#whatever he's touching a saint

[beliscary]

im too slow to finish this for this solstice so have a snippet of wip ft. terence and bahamut talking

"Each time I return," the dragon wondered, pressing against Terence's pilgrim kiss, "I am astonished to find another that burns so. I should know better. There is always light."

There—the crack at last. Quicker and cleaner than he had expected. Kinder, also. Gently, Terence felt for the fracture inside himself. He pried it apart, breaking it in truth, and folded those ancient eyes within his heart, placing them beside Dion's strained, precious smiles.

No one will look here, he promised. No one has ever thought to.

“It will be a cruel work.” The proud creature did not flinch from the truth, though there was pain in it. He and Dion were well suited to each other, after all. “Do not say you did not know.”

“I've always known.” He ran a hand over the dragon's skin.

“I wonder if you will believe that, at the end."

[mariasont]

Spoiled - A.H

a/n: felt feral writing this hope y'all enjoy it as much as i did

think im ovulating or something YALL IDK

anyhow happy reading let me know what yall think 🤭

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: in which hotch overhears your conversation with penelope and decides to do something about it

warnings: 18+ MDNI, phone sex!, sex toy!, fem solo masturbation, penelope being a little instigator lmao, dirty talk, soft dom!hotch, established relationship, honestly a little bit of angst whoops, reader is slightly dramatic like hotch has been gone for prob 5 hours STAND UP!

wc: 3.3k

"Penelope Grace Garcia!"

Her comment earned her the full government name, igniting a burst of laughter that you attempt to smother behind your hand. Sinking deeper into the couch, you dismiss the absurdity with a shake of your head. You even find yourself glancing over your shoulder even though you know no one is home.

"You know, I really shouldn't be telling you this, but trust me, that's the least of our worries in this relationship."

"Look, whatever floats your love boat or rocks your bed frame is strictly your business," she comments as if that were the most casual thing to say.

You giggle, a warmth spreading through you as you tread across the kitchen tiles, the phone pressed against your ear. 

"Oh my god, Pen," you let out a laugh, feeling a soft crimson spread across your cheeks, while your thighs swell with the thoughts of your doting boyfriend. "No, no, like I said we're more than okay in that department. It just gets, well, lonely when he's away."

Your hand curls around the neck of your favorite bottle of red, easing the cork free with a satisfying pop. The liquid swirls into the glass, a little more than probably necessary, as the gentle hiss of water beginning to simmer breaks through the kitchen. 

"You, my dear, are a saint among mortals."

"Well, he makes it easy," you shrug, pouring the rice into the bubbling pot, a cloud of steam rising to paint the windows.

"Honestly, I don't know how you manage. I'd be itching for it, especially if it's as good as you say," Penelope admits with a dramatic sigh.

You laugh, propping the phone against the backsplash, its speaker projecting the conversation into the room. Aaron stands just out of sight, unnoticed, taking in your every syllable.

"When he gets back, trust me, every second apart seems like a small price to pay."

"Ever thought about getting yourself a toy? You know, for those long nights?" Penelope hints not (at all) so slyly. 

The wine almost sprays from your mouth as you stifle a surprised splutter. Aaron, still unseen, raises an eyebrow.

"Oh, um, no, I haven't really considered... a toy," you murmur, cheeks burning. You clear your throat, pretending to be engrossed in the simmering pot. "Aaron might have an opinion on that, I guess."

Your attempt at nonchalance was failing, you definitely knew that.

Aaron rested casually against the door frame, a soft smile touching his lips at the sound of your bashful laughter. He'd always had a soft spot for the way your cheeks bloom with color--a sight he wasn't afraid to go great lengths to witness. The idea of a toy seemed to pique his curiosity, drawing a pensive frown as his attention stayed fixed on you for a moment longer.

He slips away silently, his steps carrying him to the front door as you continue your conversation with Penelope.

The call disconnects with a soft click, and you're left in the quiet of the kitchen, unwittingly promising to keep Penelope updated. Turning back to the stove, you stir the sauce with a distracted hand, your lips downturned. Aaron should have been home by now.

The dining table is set, candles flickering, their glow falling on the chair he's yet to fill. You let out a sigh, stealing another look at the ticking clock. The food is ready, but with each passing minute, it grows cooler, just the unfamiliar feeling of disappointment settling in your chest. 

The audible twist of the key catches your attention, and you can't help but glance over your shoulder. Aaron walks in, his lips curving into a smile upon seeing you.

"Hi, my gorgeous girl," he greets, his voice a familiar sound that kindles a familiar flutter into your heart.

He places his briefcase down, the sound muted, and as he approaches, his lips brush a tender kiss against your temple. The annoyance that had been bubbling inside you melts away with his touch. Damn him.

You turn to him, a sheepish "Hi" fluttering out, your cheeks tinged with heat. It's a feeling that's always fresh, the way he still makes you feel like you're back in high school, hearts doodled in the margins of your notebook.

Aaron settles into his chair, the soft scrape of wood against the tile following his movements.

"Sorry 'M late," he offers, his tone warm, appreciative. "Everything looks and smells wonderful, honey. Thank you."

His fingers gently sweep a loose strand of hair from your face, his smile softening you, disarming you. He's so beautiful.

"You're welcome," you reply, your cheeks growing warmer with each word. "And, um, I hope it's okay. It might be a bit cold. I thought...I guess I assumed you'd be home sooner."

You voice trails off, leaving behind a trail of embarrassed concern, wondering if perhaps you'd somehow overstepped. 

Aaron looks at you, his eyes turning kind as he discerns the unease on your face.

"I'm sorry, baby, got held up with a little errand." He bites into the food, and a gratified hum indicates his approval. "This is delicious."

You find yourself beaming at the praise. He had a talent for that--praising you, almost as if he'd made it his life mission. This was a first for you in a relationship, and it's exactly why the late nights and time spent alone didn't weigh so heavily. 

After dinner, you're rinsing off the plates when Aaron's hands draw you close, his hands claiming your waist, the heat of his palms radiating through the fabric of your shirt. He plants a soft kiss on your shoulder.

"Let me help with that. You're spoiling me," he insists, his words spoken into your damp skin.

You lean back into his embrace, his chest flush against your back.

"I like taking care of you," you admit, heart skipping a beat under the weight of his gaze, the softness in his eyes dissolving your concentration on the task at hand. 

A deep, affectionate groan escapes Aaron as he pulls you even closer. But all good things come to an end, and the ringing of his phone seems like an icy intrusion, like a sudden draft into the kitchen.

"Hotchner," he answers, and even though the word leaves his lips, his fingers gently sketch patterns across your hip. 

You feel your heart sink. When he hangs up, his eyes lock with yours, brimming with an apology he doesn't voice. It's unnecessary, you already know.

"A case?" You hate how small your voice sounds, dipped in an understanding you wish you didn't have.

He nods, a simple stupid gesture that sends a lump of disappointment soaring up your throat, which you desperately try to swallow down. 

"Okay... just, be careful, okay? I'll miss you."

"And I'll miss you, angel. Be good for me."

There's a hollowness in the house that follows you through each room. You were well aware of Aaron's demanding job when you started dating--the unpredictable schedule, the sudden departures, the cases that required his immediate attention. Still, this awareness did nothing to soften to sting of his absence. At all. 

You found yourself wandering aimlessly, picking up a book only to set it down unread, starting a movie but not really watching. Eventually, you ended up in the bedroom, his bedroom, where the subtle scent of his cologne lingers. It's both comforting and heart-wrenching. God, you felt like you were being so dramatic.

You climb into the bed, the sheets cool against your skin, too big and empty without him. Your eyes darts to the phone resting on the nightstand. You've always been careful not to disturb him while he's working, but tonight felt different.

With a trembling hand, you pick up the phone, your thumb hovering indecisively over the screen. Reluctantly, you returned it to its place. There was no point in bothering him.

A sudden draft sent a shiver up your spine, reminding you of the blanket Hotch had bought for you a couple months ago. You sighed, rising from the bed and moving to the closet.

But your eyes skipped over the blanket, instead fixating on a shiny pink bag tucked away in a secluded corner. Compelled by a spike of curiosity, you grabbed the bag and pulled it open. Your eyes widened, cheeks burning with a sudden flush as you placed it on the bed. How long had this been hiding here? And the timing--just after your conversation with Penelope--felt almost too uncanny. 

You went back to your phone.

Hi

The message was simple. You hit send before you can second-guess yourself.

Almost immediately, your phone vibrated--Aaron's name illuminated the screen. You answer, and his voice was there, infused with immediate concern.

"Hi honey. You okay?" His question was straightforward, cutting through the noise.

You nodded, forgetting for a moment he couldn't see you. Shifting on the bed, you said softly, "Um, yeah, I'm fine. I didn't mean to bother you. Is it a bad time?"

His response is quick. "You could never bother me."

A blush flares on your cheeks, and a smile instinctively forms. You fidget on the bed, the sheets sighing with your movements, sounds that don't escape Aaron's attentive detection.

"Can't seem to find the right spot without me there, huh?"

"I can't seem to do a lot of things without you here," you grumble under your breath, intended more for yourself than for him. The bed emits a soft creak as you turn again, your breath hitching in a pout that he can almost see through the phone. "Aaron, I found something in the closet..."

You lost your words, fingertips tracing the toy's edge, as you fumbled with the strings of your shorts.

"Hmm? Care to enlighten me."

"You know."

You weren't in the mood for his teasing, because you knew he knew. You could sense his smugness, his voice dripping into that familiar, velvety register that prompted your lips to purse.

"I don't know, sweetheart."

Once again, you found yourself stirring against the linen, nibbling on your lip as a wave of exasperation washed over you, your eyes rolling into their sockets.

"Where are you?"

"Just got to my hotel room." You could hear the subtle movements in the background, accompanied by the soft groans of the mattress under his weight. "What did you find in the closet that was so urgent you needed to text me in the middle of my case?"

Your face was warm. "You said it wasn't a bother."

"And I meant it, now spell it out for me."

Your hands cautiously pushed over the toy, examining its buttons and sides. Subconsciously, your tongue swept over your top teeth. You lowered your voice as though someone else might overhear.

"The toy...is it for me? I mean, I would hope so. If not, well, we'd have a rather awkward issue."

"Yes, it's for you, baby."

You stifled a grin. How could he have known? That profiling business was really no joke.

"Why?"

His muffled chuckle filtered through, and you could almost see the flash of his pearly whites. You really missed him, so much so that you were conjuring vision of his mouth of his on places that should not be said aloud. 

"I just want to make sure my best girl is taken care of when I'm not home." You could practically hear the smirk on his lips.

You were deep in your fantasy now, your free hand sliding down your shorts as you envisioned him propped against the headboard of his hotel bed, tie hanging loosely, hair tousled just so.

"I'm always taken care of by you, Aaron," you said quietly.

You didn't know how to go about this, whatever this even was. You were treading into unknown territory; never having had phone sex with Aaron--or anyone for that matter.  It was a far cry from the occasional suggestive text.

"That's right." His voice flowed like honey in your ear, causing a shiver as your finger skimmed over your underwear, your breathing momentarily faltering. "You're going to be well taken care of for the rest of your life, yeah?"

"Yeah."

You could hardly breathe, squirming against your own touch, glancing over at the toy that sat beside your hip.

"I want you to know how much I appreciate your patience. You're a good girl, honey. Far too good for me." You weren't. It was the other way around; you didn't deserve him. You told yourself that every day. "I know you get lonely, and I know it's something you'd never admit to."

"Aaron..."

He didn't let you finish. "Why don't you tell me what you're doing right now?"

Your actions came to an abrupt standstill, thumb suspended above your clothed clit. You entertained the thought that this FBI gig might have been a front for a psychic, maybe one of those fortune teller types.

You were mumbling into your sleeve, a private conversation with the threads. "Just...um, well it's hardly worth mentioning, honestly."

Wow you're sure you fooled him.

"I'm not fond of dishonesty." The low rumble of his voice sent a tremor through your core. "I'm giving you a final chance. Tell me what you're doing, sweetheart."

A hard swallow passed your throat, your thumb rubbing idle circles into the band of flesh on your hip. 

"Well, I, uh, was touching myself." The words felt as awkward as they sounded, an internal wince accompanying each syllable at how unsexy you were speaking.

"Where, sweetheart?"

You exhaled sharply at the question, heavy with exasperation at his insistence on drawing this out. But the slickness between your legs was undeniable. Your hand slid back to the delicate skin between your thighs.

"Aaron, please," you breathed out so faintly it was almost inaudible.

He was playing a cruel game, and he knew it. You hardly cussed let alone talk about your lady parts so openly.

"I hope I've never given you a reason to feel judged, honey." There was a sweetness in his voice that masked his darker intentions. "Just tell me where. I want to help."

Your tongue flicked nervously across your lip, your finger dipping into the valley of your folds as you mulled over his offer. You were wet, far more than you had anticipated, practically coating your thighs in the process.

"No, 'course not," you said softly, biting back a sigh as your thumb worked slowly against your inflamed clit. "It's just, you're so far, Aaron."

"Why do you think I got you that toy?" Your gaze darted to the pink thing, resting against your hip. "I want you to use it. I'll walk you through it, just like I would in person."

You could melt. You could liquefy into nothingness on the spot. Your fingers pressed more urgently against yourself, a deep-seated wish for him to be here surfacing, knowing all the while it was a baseless hope.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

"There you go, that's my girl."

You couldn't hold back the whimper that fell from your lips as you arched against the bed, fingers diving into your cunt.

"My needy girl," he repeated, his laughter resonating with a patronizing tone that oddly egged you on. "Alright, can you pick up the toy for me?"

You wedged the phone snugly between your shoulder and ear, your hand closing around the pink, curved object, scrutinizing its every detail with careful eyes.

"Okay."

It was big, not as big as Aaron, but its dimensions were nonetheless imposing. You felt your chest heave in anticipation, waiting for his instructions.

His silence was stretching your patience thin. You turned it on, and it came to life, watching as it vibrated, the soft buzz permeating the space. You let it trail over your stomach, fabric gathering as your shirt rode up. Nearing your clit, you braced, taking in a quick breath.

But that breath was released in a strangled moan as you pushed the toy firmly into your sopping hole, legs spreading expansively as a taut sensation gripped your center.

"Did I say you could use it already?" he questioned, his tongue clicking in disapproval as you strained against the device, the second prong vibrations coursing against your nub, your whole-body jerking in response.

"N-No, 'M sorry," you panted, your focus narrowing as you pushed to toy in and out, your lips rounding into an 'o'. "It feels really good, Aar."

"I'm sure it does, baby," he teased, his voice carrying a certainty that your own lacked. "Let me hear you fuck yourself with it.

You loved hearing him curse, it was rare, and usually reserved for intimate moments like this. It fueled your actions, your wrist quickening, driving the device deeper, your stomach twisting in tight knots, a loud moan escaping unrestrained, suddenly you were thankful for the distance between Aaron's house and the next.

It felt so good, and yet somehow still not comparable to how it was with Aaron. Weren't you spoiled?

"Miss you so much," you slurred, your movements stuttering as the device worked your body in ways you didn't know were possible.

"Miss you too, angel. You're doing so good."

"Can you, ah, come home, p-please?"

You weren't even sure of what you were saying, all your thoughts on chasing your high and pretending the toy was Aaron's cock. Thinking about how he'd fill you up right now, how he'd press you to the mattress, how his body would cover yours.

"Your present isn't enough?" His tone was taunting, your eyes welling with tears, clouding your vision as your hips bucked against the toy. "That's a shame, sweetheart, think maybe you've been a little spoiled. You can't have my cock all the time."

You were completely dazed, his sentences barely making their way through the fog as you'd like them to. You were crying, you think, hot and relentless tears carving a path down your face as you fucked yourself harder against the toy.

The noises coming from your pussy were obscene, soaked and squishing as you tried to respond to Aaron, but nothing but small hiccups were escaping your mouth.

"It's okay, baby, I know. You're doing so good for me. I can hear it."

Your cheeks and ears flared with a heat that spelled out your shame, but it was the least of your concerns. Your walls tightened against the device, the pressure on your clit suddenly all too much and not enough at the same time. Gasping for air, your breaths came out in uneven bursts. When you tried to call out Aaron's name, it emerged as nothing more than a choked sob.

"C-Can I? Please, need to so bad." You weren't entirely convinced you were speaking English, but Aaron understood. 

"Go ahead, sweetheart."

That was all you needed. Your cunt contracted again before vaulting over the edge, nearly losing consciousness in the process, a string of moans and half-said words pouring out of your lips.

You could hear the sound of his voice, but the words were just out of reach, not fully making sense. You felt your body twitch, and you blinked deliberately, once, twice, three times, in an effort to reconnect your body to your mind.

"You're so good, baby. So good. Miss you so much."

You pulled the toy, now soaked, from yourself, cringing at the lewd sound as you laid it beside you, making a mental note to wash the sheets later. Although if Aaron had his way that wouldn't happen.

"I miss you." You hated the way your voice betrayed ever emotion you had.

"Need you to go pee for me, sweetheart."

He sounded so soft and tired, but somehow still present. You let out a soft snicker as you curled onto your side. 

"Can't move my legs," you mumbled, the sound muffled by the way your cheek was squished into the pillow. "Need you to come carry me."

His laugh was something you wished you could bottle up. "Spoiled."

"And who's to blame for that?" You were ready for his witty retort, but it was cut short by the sudden flash of your phone. You squinted at the caller ID. "Sorry, Penelope is calling me, can I call you back in a second?"

"Course, honey. Thank her for the idea, yeah?" Your mouth fell open as you scrambled for the right words. Of course he had heard. "Also, I plan on spending a few solid hours fucking you when I get home, so I suggest you get some rest."

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

[heavenbarnes]

simon's fave past time is seeing you ride his abs and thighs ITS CANON

you can expand on it if you want

the concept of riding abs has me going fucking nutty, THANKS VERY MUCH 🫶🏼

when it comes to pleasure, to older bf!simon, it’s entirely about you. he lives to serve in every sense of the word.

serve his country, serve his task force- serve you.

to him, his very existence is an answer to you.

the question being, ‘what do you need?’

that is to say that there isn’t a part of him that we wouldn’t willingly give up to you, all you had to do was ask- really, you didn’t even have to say a word.

he was already offering himself up on a silver fucking platter.

so, for simon, there’s no place he’d rather be than under you. for him to lay back, look up at you and see you eclipsing his sun.

he likes the way the bedroom light illuminates behind you like a saint, staring down at him like he’s your worshipper (he is).

it’d been lazy, half pressed to his chest as your legs tangled with his- making out in your bed like you were back in school.

simon’s perfect day.

you’d felt it digging into your stomach, he’d been hard from the moment you’d touched lips. as was his standard, there wasn’t a lot you could do that wouldn’t get him rock solid.

tongue in his mouth, spit on your chin, your hand had been sandwiched between the two of you as you stroked it through his shorts.

maybe it was because he was about to blow a load in his undies.

maybe it was because he could feel you rutting into his thigh.

whatever it was, it had him dragging you up his body and situating you on his abs. pulling his hoodie out of the way, you could feel the firm lines of his stomach beneath you.

“g’head, use me sweet’art”

so that’s what you did.

bottoms discarded, shirt hiked up so simon could have one hand play with your chest while the other held your waist. hips desperately rolling against his abs.

every time he tensed them, stomach going rigid so you could rub yourself against him- your eyes rolled back in your head.

“look s’pretty up there, made f’me”

something about the way he felt under you, maybe even the way he was gazing up at you like you were made of stars. it had your mouth running off without your brain.

just straight from the heart.

“yours, si- all yours”

you felt his grip on you tighten, pulling you down harder onto him- practically dragging you against him to draw more of those heady moans out of you.

this was where he was meant to be.

under you, serving you, offering up every inch of himself to you. ask him? he was the happiest man alive.

didn’t matter that he’d already cum in his shorts.

didn’t matter that he was already chubbing right back up.

didn’t matter that he could go crazy feeling you rutting against his skin.

as long as you looked this happy? sounded this sweet? felt this fucking good?

“take whatever y’need”

[rememberwren]

I finally wrote for Gaz <3 Quick little blurb about BFF!Kyle / fem! reader. You ask Kyle to practice sucking dick. You know. On him. Ft. a rather subby Kyle Gaz Garrick. Part 2 here.

-

The first thing Kyle does after you ask to practice sucking his cock is—

—jerk off. I mean, he agrees. He showers, even though he had showered earlier that day. But in the shower, he jerks off because he knows that if he doesn’t, he’ll be spilling himself into your mouth straight away. It’s hardly the learning experience he wants to give you.  

Erection sated, what he doesn’t do is think about the why. He doesn’t think about the next person, the one you might be trying to learn these skills for. That way only leads to pain, and he’s not interested in the angst tonight, not when he’s got this opportunity in front of him packaged up neater than a gift at Christmas. 

You sit on your heels while he sits on the edge of the bed, naked. For cumming only ten minutes ago, he’s having no problem getting hard, not with the way you look at his cock: a little dumbfounded, a little curious, a little scared, a little excited. 

“It doesn’t bite. At least it didn’t the last time I checked,” he teases. He doesn’t admit that it was only ten minutes ago. “You can touch it if you want. Just stop whenever you want to stop, yeah?” 

Comforted, you reach out and stroke your fingertips along the velvety length of his cock. You trace around the foreskin, down the shaft, even brave enough to gently cradle his balls in your palm.

Kyle loves it—loves turning himself into a statue beneath your touch, loves existing only for your innocent exploration. He murmurs soft words of encouragement beneath his breath, watching as your confidence blossoms like a flower beneath rain. Until you feel bold enough to lean forward and place a chaste little kiss on the head. 

His cock jerks, a quiet moan pulled from his throat at the softness of your mouth. You pull back, laughing a little at the unexpected movement of his cock. You’re moving plenty yourself though: can’t seem to sit still, shifting from one side to the other. Anything to get a little pressure on your pussy. 

“Are you already wet?” Kyle asks. “Just from kissing my cock?”

You laugh again, embarrassed, and cover your face with your hands. Kyle reaches out to peel them away, eager to see your every minute expression. It’s important that he does, he tells himself, so that he can tell if you’re uncomfortable. It has nothing to do with enjoying the way your mouth drops open a little when you stare too long, the way your eyes get heavy-lidded when you breathe in the clean scent of him and his shower gel.

“First lesson,” he says, guiding your wrists back down to your sides. “Anyone ever asks you to suck their dick and you don’t want to, say no. If they insist, kick them right in the balls.” 

“I already knew that,” you huff, rolling your eyes at him. 

“Second lesson: don’t bite it off. That’s the end of the lessons, really. Take it from somebody with a dick, we’re just grateful it’s in your mouth. As long as we get it back in one piece, we can’t really complain about whatever you do to it.” 

Your laughter goes a long way to relaxing that last anxious part inside his chest, the one that is worried he has somehow pressured you into this (despite your insistence that this was what you wanted; that Kyle was the only man in your life you felt safe enough to explore with). When you put your hands on his thighs to brace yourself, kneeling up, he laces your fingers together with his own, smoothing the calloused pad of his thumb across your knuckle. 

“Go at your pace. You’re in charge unless you decide otherwise,” he says, watching as your mouth comes closer to his aching length. Your eyes flicker up to him, the picture you make of pure pornography as you kneel between his thighs like a sinner, holding onto his hands like a saint. 

You place open-mouthed kisses along his length, tasting him, working your way up and down his cock. It’s a test of his restraint to keep still and quiet and let you explore like this, when all he wants is your lips wrapped around him. A bead of precum wells at the slit of his cock and he watches your eyes find it, fingers wiggling free of his own so that you can reach out and drag the pad of one finger through the pearly seed. Your eyes find his, a hint of caution there, like you aren’t sure if you’re about to do something bad—but whatever you see in his face (likely something far too honest, far too open and worshipful)---settles your anxieties. You slip the finger into your mouth and suck it clean, nose wrinkling a little at the taste. 

“You don’t have to do that,” he says, breathless. “You don’t have to finish me at all, okay?” 

You roll your eyes again. “Gaz. Stop talking.” 

“Shut me up,” he challenges, holding out his hands as if to say, Be my guest. 

You take a deep breath, shoulders squaring. Your mouth opens and then the head of his cock rests against the warm wetness of your tongue. Whose eyes shut first? He couldn’t say. Your mouth closes around him, sucking softly on just the tip as your fingers come to wrap around the base, thumb stroke along the underside. Kyle mutters a curse, sucking in a breath and holding it until his lungs burn. Fuck, your mouth is like liquid heat, the little suckling motions of your tongue soft and sweet as you test out different intensities and pressures. You lean forward, taking more of him past your lips, and he lets out a long, low groan. 

He forces his eyes open, suddenly aware that he is missing it. You’re here, on your knees, sucking his cock like the best girl, and he’s missing it. You’re already watching him, a smile visible at the corners of your eyes. You take him into your mouth until his head nudges at the back of your throat where it turns soft. You gag a little, and he curses again, a sound which has you shifting against your heels. 

You set a hesitant rhythm, head bobbing. It takes you time to coordinate your hand and your mouth, but once you do, it tears a whine from his throat. You keep yourself comfortable, only taking him in to the back of your mouth, but he has no complaints, his belly tight with pleasure, breaths coming shallow and fast. 

“That’s it,” he breathes, reaching out to cup your jaw in his hand, thumb smoothing along the hollow of your cheek as you suck. “So good. Doing it just right, aren’t you?” 

You make a little needy sound, shifting on your heels again. 

“Wet, pretty girl?” he wonders. “You can’t sit still. Is this turning you on?” 

You nod, his cock in your mouth. 

“Show me,” he says, half-delirious with need. “Touch yourself and show me.” 

You remove the hand from the base of his cock and slip it down the front of your leggings. When you pull it free and hold it up to the light, your first two fingers are wet, a line of slick connecting them thin as spidersilk until it breaks while he watches. 

“Fuck,” he breathes. Part of him wants to leave you in pain, desperate for relief, to watch you squirm between his legs like you’re kneeling on hot coals. The other part of him wants to feel the vibration of your moans around his cock, and that is the part which wins. He’s always considered himself a generous guy. “Touch yourself—’s only fair. You’re making me feel so good.” 

You get clumsy once your hand is between your legs. Your other hand holds the base of his cock steady, but he can tell you lose focus on him, the slick sounds of your fingers rubbing against your clit just audible. Sometimes your mouth goes loose and lax around him, tongue aimless. Kyle groans, hips jerking a little deeper into the softness of your mouth, desperate for anything you give him. You’re the one on your knees, but you’re so far in control that it’s almost laughable. 

“Don’t stop,” he whispers, stroking where your lips are split open around him, using the pad of his thumb to feel his cock through the softness of your cheek. “Please don’t stop, pretty girl, just—please—” 

You blink, coming back to yourself a little, and the suction around his cock tightens to a point somewhere between bliss and pain. Though your efforts have been clumsy and the lesson has gone properly off the rails, he can feel his balls drawing up tight against his body, his cock throbbing against your tongue. 

“I’m close—pull off, baby,” he says. 

You stiffen, eyes going wide. He slips in too deep and you gag around him, a wet choke that shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does, your eyes slipping shut until your lashes rest on your cheeks, broken little whines filtering out around his cock as you cum on your fingers. 

It’s too much for him. He pulls out just in time, one hand cupped loosely around the head of his cock and the other stripping its length in short, quick strokes as he cums after you, teeth clenching, jaw tight around your name in his mouth. He fills his hand and some slips out between his fingers, dripping down onto your thighs below. 

“Holy shit,” he breathes. “Are you okay?” 

You nod, working your hand free from your leggings. You’re slick all over your palm. He wants to lick it clean. 

“I didn’t pay attention,” you blurt out. 

He stares. 

You continue: “Like, at all. I’m sorry, Kyle, I was so—I was distracted. But I think I’m better now. Can we…can we try again?” 

More cum drips from between his fingers. You squeal and stick your open hand beneath his to catch it before it can ruin your leggings more than they already are. After a lengthy silence, Kyle sighs. 

“Yeah, pretty girl, we can try again. Give me ten minutes.”

[jaegerbby]

➳ saint

--͙[touya todoroki x female! reader]-͙-

╰┈➤ word count; 3925

╰┈➤ rundown; your luck always has you at the wrong place, at the wrong time and touya is the reason.

╰┈➤ caution; previous NONCON ENCOUNTER MENTIONED, NONCON elements, scumbag! fratboy! dabi, virginity loss, no prep, choking, unprotected sex, rough sex, clothed sex, creampie, possessiveness, dirty talk, yn has small boobs, blow job mentioned, spitting in mouth, use of the word slut.

not proof read !!

the way you met touya is uncanny.

it is vile and putrid. you wish to wipe that moment from existence.

so why do you always end up around him? why do you now know an unprecedented amount about him?

"no doesn't hold any weight to me." his voice is low. his eyes are dark. you know that. you experienced it. he is spoilt, without a doubt. he gets his way, at least that is what everyone believes.

you should not be sitting next to him. his eyes trail from your exposed thighs to the ends of your hair entwined with his fingers.

he readjusts himself on the stiff sofa, spreading his legs wider and his thighs strain against his distressed jeans.

he looks untouchable. he looks like nothing in the world is capable of moving him. where money is present, power follows. touya did whatever the fuck he wanted.

"don't act like you get all that you want." you grit your teeth. he is infuriating. "your father has told you no. if he says no, you shut up and listen."

you can see the shift in his expression. you can feel it in the atmosphere. it crawls up your back and grips at your shoulders.

you know better than to mention that estranged relationship. you know better than to provoke him.

his hand stills, cerulean eyes narrowing. his grip wraps in your hair, it hardly looks like he is pulling but your roots sting. the tension on your strands makes you flinch.

this is the same man that had no qualms shoving you to your knees in an egregious alley. even as you protested, even as you hissed at your bloody knees. you were not there on your own volition.

you came to pick up your friend. you came there because she called for you to drive her home. she was long gone by the time you got there.

when you should have been taking your friend home, you were having a cock shoved down your throat. one so big it made your jaw ache and your eyes water.

he kept pushing and pushing until you were gargling on his cum, too sober to wipe the images out of your brain.

you were not even privy to touya's name. you never saw a cock much less had your throat stretched by one but he did not care.

touya knew you.

somehow, that was all that mattered to him.

your mind says to run. it says to bolt out of this room, maybe jump out of the window if it meant avoiding him because the look he gives you is eerily similar to that night.

"enji is the reason i'm this fucked up disaster. he knows it. my entire fucking family knows it. he would rather die than tell me no." he pauses, his gaze flickering over you like he has already decided on what he will do to you. like he already planned every scene in his head a long time ago. "he loves me."

you never should have let him drag you into this room. you were not suppose to be here in the first place. it seems touya always makes it the wrong place and the wrong time for you.

you jolt, eyes widening when his hands grip you. his palms are heavy, they are firm, from his touch alone you know you cannot escape him.

when he has you like this, all your resolve is shattered.

it does not take much for him to force you onto your back, he looks too big, too big for you. all you can see is him and he practically plasters his hard, muscular body to you.

your mind flashes with every memory from that night. where touya had you kneeling in a nasty alley. you can feel his cock heavy on your tongue and his taste throughout your mouth. you can feel hot, sticky cum being spewed into the back of your throat despite your gags of protestation.

you tried so hard to forget it, to dissolve the moment into nothingness but here you are remembering his eyes glimmering in content while he violated your mouth.

"and you love me too." there is a sharp intake of breath when those words leave his mouth. he says it with certainty, like he has never been more sure of something.

his callous hands slip beneath your skirt, you find yourself regretting your clothing choice. he grips your thighs, a wolfish expression on his face as he familiarises himself with your soft skin. places no one has seen much less touched.

touya wants to be the first, he wants to be the only one.

his thumb hooks on the crotch of your panties and he tugs them to the side. you feel cold air brushing your cunt. you hear touya's breath grow laboured, his eyes dark as they rove over your exposed pussy.

you flinch, pressing your foot against him. you try to push him away but it is hard when his body keeps you open for him. it is hard when your strength is incomparable to his.

a grin impresses on his features, pearly white teeth and dimples. it is the same smile he gave you before he had you deep throating his cock.

"i don't." your voice is warbled and shaky. his head tilts in amusement.

"really?" the sound of his zipper undoing fills your ears and trepidation settles in your bones. "then tell me your pussy isn't wet." his face nears yours, "tell me you aren't dripping like a slut."

you cannot say no.

you cannot oppose it.

you want to, you want so desperately to deny him and for it to hold an ounce of honesty. it claws at your throat, the same way you clawed at his thighs when he had you choking on his dick.

he laughs right in your face. the low baritone vibrates through your entire body.

"of course you can't, i can fuckin' see it! your pussy's so messy, could swear it's been creamed already. but it hasn't, you're just that soaking." the vulgar words elicit a whimper from you. you want to hide away but it is impossible when he has you trapped under him. he leans down to lave his slimy tongue over your trembling lips before his mouth nears your ear.

his voice tethers on a lack of self control. "you know," you feel his cock nudging your inner thigh, his pupils blown wide as he watches his dick inches away from your dripping slit. "i can smell it, i thought i was losing my fucking mind but no. all i could smell when i had my cock down your throat was your tight as hell pussy."

you should be mortified by his words, they are salacious and disturbing. instead your back arches, your body betrays you because here you are keening into touya like you want him to touch you.

"you were so shit at sucking dick, i wouldna' came if i didn't fuck it myself. i wanted nothing more than to bend you over and take your pussy because it smelled addicting." touya bites down on the full flesh of his bottom lip, his thumb pulling at the lace of your panties so hard you jerk.

"fuck, i can smell it right now. know it's all tight and ripe, know you're just waiting for me to take it."

he crowds over you more, a broken whine leaves you when the heated swollen head of his cock meets your clit. you swear you can feel it pulsing. steely blue eyes meet yours in an instant and a grin stretches across his face. you hate that the only thought in your head is how pretty his smile is and not the weight of his cock desecrating your body.

"it smells like mine. i swear if you let another man near this cunt, i'd kill him. i'd fuck you in front of him and gouge his eyes out. no one deserves to see you like that, only me." he says that while being one of the most underserving men but it's touya, he's selfish.

he would make your side his place whether you want him or not.

"i want to get in this pussy so bad." he huffs, you feel his tip throbbing against you. it feels heavy and hot where it rests on your bundle of nerves.

you cannot breathe, not with him so close, not with him on you. you have shivers along your entire body, your nerves stand on ends. all the protests die on your tongue when your cunt is slick and leaking.

you do not enjoy this.

you do not want this.

then why have your nipples stiffened so unbearably just begging to be soothed by his tongue and why are your insides craving touya to satiate you?

"what ya thinking, baby? you want to tell me no?" your lips part, your mouth webbed with sticky strands of spit. he asked you something, you should answer.

except it is hard to speak when his dexterous fingers release your underwear to instead glide along your slit. his laugh is almost mocking, your cunt soaks his digits so easily.

"i've been wanting to fuck up this innocent pussy for so long." you swear your brain has melted, it has liquified because it certainly is not operating. your eyes flick down to see his digits stroking your opening, they move away coated in your wetness. he glides his messy fingers over his cock before he brings them to your lips.

it is so easy, for your jaw to drop and for touya to sink his slick covered digits right into your mouth.

touya realises he likes you obedient.

"she's so innocent isn't she? hasn't been stretched out by a cock, hasn't squeezed around it and creamed. fuck i know she creams. she hasn't been turned into a fuck hole yet has she?"

a word has not escaped you since touya put you in this position. tears leak from your eyes but it is only from how overwhelmingly your body is begging for something you have never had before. your mouth is sticky with saliva, the taste of yourself lingering on your tongue as touya pumps his fingers along it.

you shake your head in response like he does not already know.

he pulls his hand away, reaching down to grip his heady cock, his head stroking down your cunt until he positions it at your entrance.

your entire being feels warm yet the feeling of his cock is so much hotter. your cunt drips incessantly, he smacks his tip along the mess and you jolt. touya has his cock on your pussy when you never got a good look at it before because he rawed your throat in a dark alley.

his hips shift and all you feel is pressure between your legs. he barely shoves any inside and you flash him wide eyes. he is all too pleased by the horror on your face.

"do you wanna get fucked? do you wanna know how it feels to get pulled apart and filled to the brim?" your breaths are shallow and quick, it should make you sick to be talked to like this. it should.

instead drool pools in your mouth and you want to find out, you want to know what it would feel like when touya stretches you out.

touya sees a different light in your eyes. you already look like a braindead whore before he has fucked you dumb. "you can take it, i'll make you take it."

he presses more into you and a broken moan leaves your swollen lips. now you can feel it, just how big and how hard he is. you had him down your throat before, he made your jaw ache and you know he would have your cunt feeling the same.

he groans, as wet as you are, your insides clamp down. your walls squeeze him before he has filled you completely. he made a point to not prep you, to not stretch you out. you do not know better to ask him to.

feeling you around him and seeing your watery eyes, your dewy lips moaning while he finally has you only makes him harder. it makes him want to cum deep inside you, fill you up until he is the only coherent thought in your head.

he reaches down to stroke your clit, the rough pads of his fingers make you mewl. he gives you no mercy, he keeps pushing more of his throbbing length within your walls. your hands scramble, fists gripping his jean jacket while you grit your teeth and whimper.

touya does not offer you any praise or words of consolation, he is more focused on shoving his cock inside you. he wants to feel your gummy walls all over him when he fills you to the hilt. you are soaking him, your cunt is hot and clamping down. every time you squeeze him he lowly grunts.

he does not even realise you are crying, you are silently sobbing. your eyes dart all over his features, you are looking at him but he is looking at his cock bullying your tight pussy.

this is how you lose your virginity, fucked like a dirty whore on a couch at a frat party. and the man who is taking you is not yours.

"holy fuck, you walk around with this tight as hell cunt between your legs and you think i could leave you alone?" he groans. he is not even all the way inside but he burns this image into his brain. your panties pulled to side and your pussy wrapped around his pulsing cock. you soak him in syrupy liquid, like you were waiting for him to claim you.

you grip him like you were made for him. he flips your skirt up to prevent it from obscuring his view and rough hands slip beneath your shirt to squeeze your barely there breasts.

he squeezes your tits, biting down on his lip before he thrusts hard and his entire length is forced into you. a shaky cry escapes you and your body trembles. your cunt is aching, it is stretched out for the first time and you feel unbearably full.

you should be mortified. touya violating you before was bad enough but this time you let him. you let him sink balls deep into your virgin pussy without any resistance.

and you are still crying because the man inside you has not even kissed. he is inside you but he has not shown you an ounce of kindness or affection.

"you're so fucking tight." his pelvis is flush to yours. touya did not prepare himself for this. his jaw clenches, why are you wrapped around him so perfectly? why does the feel of your cunt make him want to keep you on the end of his cock forever?

he is losing his bearings.

and you are too full to think. you feel him in your guts, you feel him too deep inside you. he has pulled you wide in a way you have never felt before.

"it hurts." your voice breaks, your chest is heaving and your grip on his clothing tightens. his eyes finally meet yours, he sees your brows knitted in distress, glassy eyes and tear streaked cheeks.

he was so caught up in your dripping fuck hole that he did not hear you crying.

"oh, aren't you just the prettiest thing?" his deep voice coos in a velvety tone.

he called you pretty. the prettiest.

he cups your cheek, his thumb wiping away a tear but the motion is rough enough to leave your face stinging.

touya leans down to peck your lips. it is the first time he has kissed you. he pulls away, nudging your nose with his before a pretty smile crosses his face.

"your pussy feels like it was made for me. you were meant to take my cock, huh?"

he has your thigh pressed between his hard body and yours. your toes curl and your jaw hangs in a muted moan as he pulls his cock out. it is so slow you feel every inch and every pulsing vein.

when touya fucks into you for the first time it is gentle, your back arches as he fills you up all over again.

"just like that." his voice is deeper, more coated in something you cannot identify.

there is a flicker of hope that he will be this soft the entire time despite how roughly he filled you. after all, it is your first time.

you think someone like touya will finally grow a heart and find his morals.

"you're real fuckin' pretty, y'know? it's so annoying." he clicks his tongue, pushing your shirt up to reveal your breasts. plush lips wrap around your nipple and his heated tongue rolls it. his saliva feels hot on your skin.

his eyes find yours, they are dark as he laves his muscle over your tit. his hands are groping the flesh of your chest that barely fills his hands.

you jerk in surprise when his lips cover yours, this kiss is different. it is opened mouth and messy. you try to match his movements but you barely follow. touya kisses you aggressively, his tongue slipping into your mouth.

he should not be pleased by your teeth grazing his tongue but it only reminds him that he is all you know. he would always be all you know.

he has you distracted but your back tenses when his hips pull back and he harshly ruts into you. so hard your flesh sting where his hits yours.

your hands find his shoulders slipping on his jean jacket before you tightly grip the material.

he does not stop there. of course he does not.

he pumps his hips at a cruel pace, you are being stuffed with his cock over and over again. your back arches off the couch, you cry into his mouth but he does not relent.

he feels you dripping on him, he feels your slick coated along his length and every time he slams into you, you clench down like you will never let his cock go.

"this is what you wanted, right?" he grunts, his features contorting as he roughly fucks you.

"you wanted me to pin you down and rip through you. i know it, you know it. fuck that's it." his sentence ends with his voice at a higher pitch.

your hands lose their grip on his clothing as he straightens up, he cups the back of your knees to keep you spread open. his cock is throbbing at the sight of him taking you. over and over, he sees your syrupy strands coated on his cock, he sees your panties stained with it. he sees your pussy stretched around him and knows he would never go a day without thinking about it.

"knew your little pussy was aching for it. take it so fucking well."

when he is pounding your slick cunt, moaning about the way he swears your insides are stroking every vein on his thick length, you decide you hate him.

you wonder how someone so gorgeous could be so disgusting. you wonder what cruel juxtaposition it was for such an angelic countenance to be the one you see when it feels like the devil is ruining you.

you hate that you are enjoying it. you hate that it feels good.

you hate that at the end of this you will not regret it.

"you act like such a good girl but you take cock like it's all you were made for." sweat has started lining his hairline. his cheeks have reddened and touya's voice is breathy.

your skin is stinging from the force of his thrusts, his cock reaching deep in your guts with every motion.

the sounds of his flesh hitting yours fill the room, you can feel the weight of his balls meeting your skin and the mess between your legs splatters every time he fills you.

he huffs hard, his touches trail along your body, squeezing your hips and gliding along your stomach before they find your throat. his hands are so big they engulf your neck entirely.

"you like this, you fucking love it. fuck, tell me how much you like me rawing your virgin cunt like this." you whimper, your trembling fingers find his wrists.

you brain had turned into a scrambled mess the longer he fucks you open. your mouth is sticky with spit and all you can do is whine. he pounds into you so hard your body jerks every time.

some part of you wishes there was less clothing. less on him to see all his muscles flexing. less on you to feel him on you completely.

his expression switches between open mouthed groans and clenched jaws.

his cheeks are flushed, sweat drips down his temple and his fluffy hair bounces with his movements.

"touya." your voice warbles.

the moan he lets out is obscene. his cock slams into you unevenly.

he swears he loses it. he needs to hear you say his name like that again and again.

he crowds over you, his body flush to yours as he gathers you up into his arms. his lips finds yours in a sloppy kiss.

your hands rest on his back, feeling the ripples of his muscles as he roughly ruts into you.

your brows furrow, he only goes harder. it hurts but for some reason you like it.

he pants in your face before kissing you again. he pounds into you at a voracious pace, like an unhinged animal.

touya swears your hot, sticky walls gripping him are akin to heaven.

"fuck, fuck, fuck." a tandem of curses fill the room then he is burying his face into your neck. he lets out a low whine into your skin, his fingers reaching for your thighs and gripping hard enough to bruise.

his movements grow less steady but they are just as deep, his cock drags along every inch of your pussy like he is making it his home.

another muted whimper vibrates against your neck and with a few more pumps of his hips touya's cock throbs within you. he presses his pelvis flush to yours, your thighs tense at the feeling of hot cum flooding your walls.

you are panting and touya is too.

he drops all of his weight onto you, squeezing you tighter like he has not just ruined you.

you are horrified.

he did not wear a condom.

he came inside you.

you lay beneath him unmoving even as he laves his tongue over your breasts, even as he sucks marks across the flesh.

his hand grips your cheeks hard, urging your mouth open before his thumb strokes along your wriggling tongue.

you think he will kiss you but a sly grin plasters across his face and he spits into your mouth.

as the glob of saliva glides down your throat, he pulls out. you flinch at the feeling and his cum drips from your slit. you feel the mess leaking out of you.

touya pecks your lips because a man like him never faces any repercussions.

a man like him never thinks about the consequences of his actions.

"i'll bend you over next time." he has the same glimmer in his eyes from that night.

haven't been on here or written in so long :/ my apologies

[liliannadelaphinehartifelt]

What Type of Kinks & Turn Ons They Have [2]

[ NSFW + MDNI ]

Alastor

Power Play (He’s an extreme dominant. You won’t ever get a chance to have the upper hand.)

Master / Servant Dynamic

Gore (Anything fear inducing for you really)

Primal Play (Predator / Prey ( IICYIFY type of thing…)

Breath Deprivation / Choking (Alastor tends to withhold physical touch in public but choking you ‘casually’ isn’t abnormal. Although, behind closed doors he’s nowhere near as gentle as he is out in the open. The marks he leaves on your throat never seem to fade…)

Knife Play / Sharpness (His claws are incredibly sharp and get even more deadly when he transforms into his larger demon form. It terrifying but the pain of a few scratches is nothing compared to the consequences you’d suffer if you ran from him..)

Light Bondage (He’ll never let you use any restraint on him…those are just for him to use on you..)

Orgasm Control / Denial (His favorite punishment for you…it’s pure torture…)

Voice kink (You have it bad for him but he’s also wildly attracted to yours as well -he will never admit that to your face.)

Branding / Biting / Scratching / Marking

Titles (He isn’t a huge fan of pet names and he uses them only to persuade or fluster you on a daily basis but when ‘sir’ ‘master’ or even ‘daddy’ slips out of your mouth the deer demon loses his mind for a spilt second. He adores it…)

Somophilia (Alastor does not sleep….its bound to happen and you don’t mind as long as he gives you a gift/treat when you’re finally awake.)

Free Use / Slight CNC. (He prefers control over everything -even when and where he fucks you..)

Breeding (This only happens during his severe ruts…he wears you out a little too fast but you can’t complain.)

Sadism. (He’s a certified sadist and can’t have a good time if he’s not humiliating you in one way or another.)

Humiliation (Alastor is never above making you feel flustered or shy and he’s definitely no saint either. If you break into tears from mere vulgar words he whispers in your ear …he’s totally fine with it.)

Aftercare (He is surprisingly efficient and gentler with you but on a few occasions seeing how weak and docile you are after the fact makes him want you all over again…)

Lucifer

DDLG (He can’t help it..)

Daddy kink.. (You called him that once on a dare and now he’s obsessed with it and quite literally gets rock hard when you do.)

Innocence / Corruption Kink (This is more of a semi-natural reaction he has to you. It’s in his nature and you play into it well…)

Oral (It’s an addiction for him but you’ll never refuse his offer to go down on you. He’s a pro by anyone’s standards. You learn how to please him properly with a few lessons from him after a while.)

Massachist (Once in a blue moon Lucifer actually gets rough with you and it’s usually because of pent of rage on his part.)

Sense Deprivation (Being denied the option to feel, see, taste, or hear you drives him insane. The same goes for you and from time to time it leads to a longer night for the both of you.)

Overstimulation

Cuckholding (The instant you leave him hot and embarrassingly bothered he’s a mess. It’s almost euphoric seeing the King of Hell collapse under your fingertips.)

Exhibitionism

Impact Play (General punishments for you specifically. A light slap across the face or backside. Maybe a rough tug of your hair as as a sign from him for you to listen. Nothing too outrageous.)

Praise / Degradation (Works both ways)

Voyeurism (Lucifer prefers to watch you pleasure yourself for him more often than not but there are times he’ll purposefully relieve himself just for you to watch…)

Spit / Drool (Similar to a blood kink, he enjoys the taste of you. There’s also the implication of your body belonging to him and willingly taking in whatever he gives it. The first time he spit in your mouth was purely on accident but when you smiled and asked for more…it became his new favorite thing to do to you…)

Aftercare / Cuddling. (Let’s be real, he’s the absolute best at aftercare and does everything within his power to make you feel comfortable again. However, you aren’t allowed to leave his side for hours and end up curled up close to his side for most of the day/night. Sometimes he keeps his hands to himself…other times…you’re back to square one.)

What should I do next? For these type of posts I mean? ❤️

[erosiism]

RAVENOUS HUNGER | YANDERE! MUZAN

prompt: muzan kibutsuji who keeps his darling locked up

character(s): yandere muzan kibutsuji, demon!reader

warnings(s): mention of violence, yandere themes.

note(s): male reader, second person, past tense, AU where muzan defeated the demon slayers and he is immune to sunlight, basically he’s the most powerful person, not beta read

Muzan Kibutsuji was no saint.

The man—no, the demon that stood in front of you was responsible for hundreds of thousands of deaths. He was the creator of human-eating monsters. He was a monster. 

And he was also the one who turned you into a demon eons ago. It had happened so long ago that the details of it had long been cast away from your memories, but the imprint of his fangs stayed etched onto your skin—it was a reminder, Muzan told you. A reminder, darling [Name], of who you belong to.

It was strange knowing that you had lived for centuries. Thousands of years, even. You fed on blood: slippery, wet crimson blood that would pulse down your throat like it was still alive. You never killed: the blood was brought to you by none other than the progenitor of Demons. You were not a corpse, yet still you rotted, confined within the room you had stayed in your whole life. Nakime made sure that you would never escape.

Technically, you were strong. You knew as much because the blood you ingested belonged to Muzan. But you were cursed with a weak body. Muzan was too—had he not been on his deathbed years back due to a fatal illness? Wasn’t he supposed to die? You had shared the same plight as him, which resulted in a close bond. But he had taken the doctor’s medicine before it was fully developed—and you hadn’t. In front of your very eyes he had morphed into some horrifically strong being; some being that craved blood, some being that had a hunger that could not be whetted. His eyes had flashed scarlet then, and he had reached out to you almost in maddening desire and hunger—

The sound of his fingernails—now grotesque sharp—against your skin had been obscene, almost. Blood had jetted out of your wound in rhythmic spurts. Each minute seemed like a ticking of death’s clock.

(“[Name],” Muzan hissed, “your blood. It is divine. Heavenly.”

“Muzan—!” You could barely escape, your fingers scrambling about desperately to avoid him. The doctor lay dead.

His fingers traveled down your throat. You choked, feeling as blood was forced down your windpipe. You struggled to breathe. And soon your heartbeat became erratic. Your body started to convulse, and inside you something was replaced. It was bloodthirst. There was a sudden urge for all things gruesome, sinful: blood, flesh, humans.

“Don’t worry, my dear [Name],” Muzan cooed, his voice slow and sweet, “you know i would never hurt you.”)

He broke his promise. Your bones had been broken countless times when you tried to escape. Your flesh had redness and bruises blossoming over it. At times, it would be horribly swollen.

And up to now, you would sit on the mat in whatever yukata, awaiting for his arrival. His blood lacerated you, but it also made you impervious to many things—your wounds healed swiftly, you could feel the power that thrummed beneath your skin. You were strong. Horribly strong. And yet in the face of Muzan, you were weak: a helpless fool.

His touch was delicate as his fingers grazed your skin. His affections at times, obfuscated you. They stunned you. Paralyzed you. He could be so dangerously tender at times, affectionate—that you would feel yourself soften under his touch, become less stilted, almost—and then you would remind yourself again, for the millionth time in a thousand years, that Muzan Kibutsuji was a monster.

His desire for you was sacrilegious. Ungodly. 

“You must understand,” Muzan said softly, before his fingers trailed down the expanse of his neck. His touch was cold. “That you are so weak, so beautiful. You must understand,” he repeated. “What I’m doing protects you.”

“It’s been years.” You said at last, “haven’t you already found the blue spider lily?” You asked desperately.

“The doctor didn’t lie about your health. You are sick. Patience is all we need.”

We, he said. He made it seem like this was what you wanted. But oh god, desperation sat heavy on your tongue. You wanted so badly to go outside; to feel cold air caress your cheeks, to feel the billow of wind once again dancing against your skin. You ached to feel alive; almost human. Sure, you would not be able to go far, but you didn’t care. Just outside. You just wanted to be outside. 

“I have searched far and wide,” Muzan continued. “And yes, I did find the blue spider lily. Nezuko was ingested. I fed you myself; in front of my very eyes, you had swallowed down her flesh. And now you will stay by my side.”

The demon slayers had almost killed him. Almost. Some of the uppermoon had been slayed. Only Akaza, Kokushibo, Douma, and Nakime remained. You had wished selfishly then, for the demon slayers to kill you. 

Muzan Kibutsuji claimed he loved you, that he adored you. But demons felt no such thing. Perhaps he liked the idea of you: of pliant, innocent, devoted you, who had been with him since the beginning. You assumed he would kill you. You assumed that Muzan would have hated the idea of someone seeing him at his weakest, at his most vulnerable.

Clearly, you were wrong. He treated you with tenderness, an evil kind of affection in which he called you by sweet endearments, in which he touched you sweetly and lovingly, on which at times, you would fall under his spell. 

Then there were the punishments. 

The thing with Muzan’s punishments, he made sure they stuck to you. If the man wasn't obsessed with keeping your skin unblemished, he might have tattooed a mark onto your skin, proving his ownership of you to everyone else. Then when you cried or begged, Muzan would soften, a small smile surfacing on his lips. He would relax—he would smile with amusement, kiss your neck.

Muzan Kibutsuji had already achieved whatever he wanted in life: so why couldn’t he let you go?

You were a bird trapped in a pretty cage, and you feared he would never let you go.

experimental work, like/reblog! comments always appreciated

[6esiree]

Gen Z Things With The Hazbin Men

Just some funny stuff I saw on Instagram. I’ll do one with the women next! Also, writing for Zestial is so hard like, why does he speak like that? 😭

Alastor:

The Dill-Doe Shirt

“Look at what my darling bought me!” Alastor announces excitedly, stretching his shirt so everybody can see, the word ‘Dill-Doe’ standing out. “Ha! Isn’t it hilarious? It’s a doe wearing a dill pickle as a costume!”

“Al, that says Dill-Doe, like, a dildo,” Angel says, trying not to laugh. “Do ya know what that is?”

“A what now?” Alastor asks innocently.

“Shut up, Angel!”

Lucifer:

The J in June

“Luci, do you know what the J in June stands for?” You ask Lucifer.

“Oh, I didn’t even know it stood for anything,” Lucifer says. “Well, what is it, honey?”

“The J in June is for the Jiggle in my ass when I walk,” You say, looking over your shoulder as you strut down the hallway.

“I believe you,” Lucifer says, fanning his face as he watches your ass do just that.

“You have no shame!”

Husk:

Spell RUN

“Husk, touch your toes,” You tell Husk, trying to keep a straight face as you discreetly record him.

“Fine, but it better not be somethin’ stupid,” Husk says, bending over and touching his toes.

“Okay, now spell ‘Run’ three times.”

“R-U-N, R-U-N, R-U—“ Husk realizes, his eyes widening as you start laughing while you hold up your phone. “Wait a fuckin’ minute.”

“HA! You’re asking if it’s in your—“ You start, but then he tackles you to the ground, shattering your phone.

Vox:

Can I Hold It While You Pee?

“I’m going to the restroom,” Vox announces as he stands up from the couch.

“Wait, let me come with you!” You say, following behind him.

“What, why would you want to do that?” Vox stutters as he turns around, a horrified look on his face.

“Can I hold it while you pee?” You ask, but he shakes his head as he backs up from you, accidentally cornering himself.

“Stay away from me!” Vox says before teleporting out of the room, leaving you pouting.

Adam:

Throw Cheeks, Bbg

“Throw cheeks, babygirl,” You tell Adam as you walk into the room.

He instantly turns his backside away from you, covering his ass with his wings.

“NO! I’M NOT THROWING CHEEKS,” Adam yells, folding his arms and shaking his head. “I DON’T WANNA!”

Angel Dust:

Impregnating A Man

“Ya eva’ love ya man so much ya just wish ya were seahorses?” Angel sighs as he looks at you, but you’re too busy scrolling on your phone to notice. “Ta get him pregnant, I mean.”

“Just because he’s a man doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try,” You tell him.

“Huh, yeah, ya right!” Angel says, grabbing your chin and making you look at him. “Wanna try, sweetcheeks?”

“Oh no, I forgot that was me.”

Sir Pentious:

The BBL

“Hey, Pentious!” You greet the serpent, an innocent smile on your face. “Can I give you a BBL?”

“A BBL? What isss that?” Sir Pentious asks you, confused. “If it’s nothing bad, perhaps I could allow you to—“ He continues sheepishly.

“DON’T SAY YES, THEY BOTCHED MINE!” Angel screeches, barging into the room, two small pillows falling from his skirt.

“Wait, Pentious, DON’T GO!” You whine as you watch him slither away in fear.

Valentino:

I Don’t Take In Strays

“What’s your address?” Valentino texts you. You only gave him your number so he could leave you alone. “I’m spending the night.”

“4351 Pasadena Ave,” You text back.

“That’s the animal shelter?”

“Yeah, they take in strays. Not me, goodnight.”

Saint Peter:

When Did I Ask?

“So, uh, Emily was telling me about this new restaurant that opened up,” Saint Peter starts, nervously wringing his hands together. “And I was wondering if you wanted to go?”

“When?” You asked, trying not to laugh.

“Oh, well, how does Friday—“

“Did I ask?”

Saint Peter’s face drops, his cheeks flushing in embarrassment, losing whatever confidence he had built up to ask you out.

“Oh my God, you poor baby! I’m so, so sorry, I have no self control,” You said, rushing to him and holding his face in your hands, a relieved sigh escaping his throat as you litter him with kisses. “Yes! I’ll go out with you, a million times yes!”

Zestial:

Mike Who Cheese Hairy

“Good morning, sweetness,” Zestial says, leaning down to look at your shirt when you approach him. “Oh? What art thee wearing today?“

He squints as you stretch it, four words in bold staring back at him: Mike, Who, Cheese, and Hairy. Carmilla’s daughters are trying not to laugh.

“Repeat it and you’ll find out,” You say, a wicked smile on your face.

“Mike…Who…Cheese…Hairy,” Zestial says out loud, still confused. “I don’t understand?”

“Who said ‘My coochie is hairy?’” Carmilla asks as she walks into the room.

“Zestial!” You burst out laughing, but then she throttles you, leaving the older man horrified.

[le16erc]

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 ✩ 𝐨𝐩𝟖𝟏 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐚𝐲. <𝟑

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞. ’𝐭𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 !

• 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐩𝐢𝐜 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 <𝟑

𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤’𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐜: 𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐲 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐨 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐢! <𝟑 ……………………………………………………………………………

the moment was perfect. he was more than absolutely sure that he was dead, residing in the divine above with an angel shaped like a girlfriend. jazz was playing as he held his lovers waist, humming along to the smooth sound as he rambled through his overbearing day.

“missed you. we both did.” she cooed, batting her lashes up at her boyfriend as he caressed her stomach.

“I know you did, I missed my girls, too.” he smiled as their puppy, miss grapes, nuzzled happily at his legs. watching his girl prepare dinner while their shared puppy played with her toy should have been more than enough to wipe his brain clean from anything else. still, his mind was running wild with the previous hours of his day.

“maybe if I burned my phone, zak would still find me.” he scoffed, sitting on the bar stool as he watched his pretty girlfriend bake. or cook. or whatever she was doing, he was never kitchen privy anyway. “maybe if you considered that you’re one of the only two McLaren drivers in the world, and that you’re painfully essential to the team, you’d understand why zak needs to reach you.” she teased, shoving a spoonful of frosting between his lips. he groaned appreciatively, taking the small silver spoon between his fingers and sucking happily.

“maybe i should stop waffling on and on. that could be a possible solution.” he groaned existentially, leaning back in the plush stool as he resigned all negative thoughts. he was home, and his heart was focused on his pretty wife girlfriend. he stood up, his long legs easily carrying him over to meet her.

“i think it’s cute when you waffle.” she smiled, welcoming his touch as he held her from behind. their hips swayed to the light jazz playing, the golden hour’s beams kissing them through the kitchen windows. “it proves that my boyfriend isn’t a broody, antisocial near-emo.” she grinned. “boyfriend is a funny word, no?” he said softly, moving her brown waves to the side so he could admire her back. whatever dessert she was making was momentarily forgotten as he lost himself in her softness. “it’s painfully temporary, is what it is.” he concluded.

“this pretty finger would look so much better with a ring.” he hummed softly, more to himself, nuzzling into her shoulder as she resumed her stirring. “you know, ‘m gonna make it happen real soon, babe.” he purred, hands trailing over her stomach as he inhaled her warm scent. it was a new favorite mix of tom ford and yves saint laurent, he learned a few days ago when she excitedly recounted her recent saks fifth avenue spree.

“don’t make promises you can’t keep.” she said softly, tilting her head back to grant his lips more access to lavish her skin with the upmost affection. her hands continued to work, stirring the mixture as promises of devotion and obsession spilled from the australian’s lips. “id miss you far too much if you dipped.” she said softly.

“ouch. i’ve never broken a promise that i have made to you, smarty. i can’t say the same for others, but for you, im honest.” he mumbled, leaving a soft bite on her jaw just to spite her. “you make it sound like you don’t wanna be mrs. piastri one day, which im sure isn’t true because ive got child bearing hips, and you of all people would never turn that down. you do want to marry me, dont you?” he asked gently, dropping the jokes as his lips stopped their way along her neck. he genuinely worried for a moment.

“honestly?” she sighed, looking back at him.

“honestly, sweet thing.” he held a breath, lifting his head to watch her face for any sign of truth.

“i honestly can’t ever see myself being mrs. piastri…” she said softly, looking to the ground.

“you can’t?” oscar’s voice broke slightly, the tears forming in his eyes threatening to realize the moment. if that’s how she really felt, he was NOT stronger than that and was willing to convince her to hear him out. he could cook, clean, learn how to make those damn towel swans. anything to keep her with him and happy.

“no. i don’t know, ive just always seen myself as more of a mrs. pastry. i hope you can understand. it’s not me, it’s you.” she said, feigning seriousness as she tried to hide the prettiest smile. he released a breath held from his innermost workings, coming down from a near heart attack.

“see what I did there? huh? pastry? piastri? you know, because im baking?” she smiled stupidly, playfully gesturing to the unfinished tiramisu sitting on the marble counter.

as he adored her cheesy smile, he knew he was done for in that moment. he knew he wanted to end his days with his soul wrapped around her heart, keeping it warm until its final beat. and even then, he’d love her in whatever came after the grave. he was ruined.

𝐟𝐢𝐧.

𝐚/𝐧: 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝!!!! 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬, 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐚𝐳𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐤! 😃

[yandereend]

Yandere Househusband

The wedding

P. 2/?

TW : normal yandere stuff, dubcon, reader is into it?, Tyler talks about children, both are like 18 or 19

Btw English is not my first language so please keep that in mind

🩵Also thanks to everyone who wrote nice comments under the first post🩵

You sometimes watched those trashy shows about the bridezillas who were obsessed with their weddings and made everyones live hell. Like many people you hopped to never be in a situation like this. But here you were sitting besides your fiancé while he discusses flower arrangements, acting like a giant brat.

Is it so hard to put together bouquets with ALL pink flowers?!

Sir we dont have enough pink lillies for all your decorations. You should reconsider some of your choices-

I‘m surrounded by idiots!! My spouse wanted pink lillies so i don’t care if you don’t have them stocked!! Just buy them!

That would be even more expen-

Just do it !!!

And with that Tyler took your hand and you both exited the flower shop. It was almost comical how such a small thing could affect a grown man so much, but hey it’s his day. Tyler had a big pout on his face so that called for your attention and pampering.

Tyler don’t be upset.

But its our day my darling, everything should be perfect! We spend so much time picking out your (suit/dress/whatever you want its your wedding) and my suit. The flowers have to match or everything was for nothing my dear!

Not everything has to be perfect.

Oh yes it does! Have you never been on pinterest ?

That was the whole wedding planning in a nutshell , just an avid pinterest user placing together the wedding of their dreams( yandere style). Sometimes it was cute seeing Tyler being so invested in the wedding, other times it was more than annoying to cater to his perfectionism.

You also often thought about how quickly things progressed. I mean you just graduated high school and are already engaged and working for your fiancés father. Tylers father, Eric, was a great boss, you often wondered why people were scared of him. It’s just your nice father in law! Always explaining everything to you and hyping you up as the next in line of the family business. I mean you’re almost a part of it.

And Tylers mother, Ramona, was the same, always acting like she’s your real mother and caring for you. Not to mention Tyler himself. You were not suprised when he didn’t went out to look for a job or university, he always promoted the idea of a traditional family with you as the breadwinner in the center. And hey, his parents gifted you a house as an engagement gift, so its safe to say that you wont suffer in the presence of those saints.

At least that’s what you thought of them, little did you know that they were the reason why most of your friends cut contact and your family hardly called after you moved out. But hey who needs them anyways.

So while all these thoughts ran through your mind here you were, walking down the aisle with your father and finally seeing the man of your dreams in his perfectly tailored suit and styled hair, with tears in his eyes witnessing your beauty.

Your wedding vow was rather short but still packed with the love you felt for your husband. And after he put himself together, because of his happy tears, he read the most beautiful wedding vow you ever heard touching your heart and everyone else’s in the chapel. So when you finally get to put the rings on each other’s fingers you both stand up there with tears in your eyes.

And when you both finally unite in a grand kiss your fate was finally sealed. Tyler had you finally completely in his grasp, even if you didn’t realize it. And he,as well as his family, will never let you go. So enjoy your wedding party with your family and friends, you won’t get to see them any longer my dear.

Till death do you apart.

🩵Thanks a lot I hope you enjoyed it, I am planning on making this a series so please comment ideas for your life with your new husband 🩵

[shaisuki]

📌 day four: body worship + taiju shiba

for a man who can easily destroy someone with his fist, he sure is tender with you. treating you like you were a fragile glass. easy to break, cracking under the pressure of a touch.

taiju can be everything but he doesn't fit in the definition of gentle and befitting the synonyms of soft. he's rough, brutal, a sadist. who relishes in the cries of his opponents, laughs at someone's demise and no ounce of mercy to his enemies. took a hundred of beatings still he wasn't one on the floor bleeding as they cling for their life. you saw how violent he can be and how dangerous he is and if he allows it, he can hurt you in many way but taiju was never the reputation he upholds when it comes to you.

the room's dim but it was enough to see each other in his spacious bedroom. sitting in the foot of his king-sized bed, wearing a sheer silk night gown. the length stopping at the middle of your thighs and the man who claims to be your lover towers over your form. silent and calm unlike to his usual expression that is ready to snap at any moment and to crush the bones of whoever provoked him.

he leans down to cup your face. not doing anything but to admire the soft features of your face. the innocence is plastered on them and he slowly kneels in front of you. his hulking figure still dwarfing over you despite being in the half of his height.

the former leader of the black dragon is kneeling in front of you. it was like a sinner and you were the saint he's confessing his sins to. praying for forgiveness and was ready to do whatever you want just to bestow the forgiveness he longs for and you were baffled. taiju had never shown you this side of his despite the multiple intimacies you both shared. he was dominating. controlling whatever he set in motion and you will only be molded as he wants.

“taiju?” you call out to him. confused at what he was doing. you were nervous about it. the swirls of his tribal tattoos are a delight to see in his skin. everything's huge about him. hus muscles bulging at whatever place it was meant to be. he didn't respond to the call of his name. the low rumble akin to a growl coming to his throat is all you received.

a woman like you should be worshipped. it took him many tries and blamed it on to his blindness of the truth. took him a long time to fully see what really you are in his eyes and he was on the brink of insanity how he have ignored you for long and as an act of repentance for the sin he committed. he will adore you, rever in your presence and he'll reach the heaven with you.

he knelt before you. cradling your foot in his hands. raising it for him to kiss it. his lips brushing to your toes. he slowly ascents to where your calf is. his nose brushing on the skin and leaving featherlight kisses. his rough palms grabbing the flesh in your calf before putting your foot on the ground again. your breath hitched when he looks at you lwith those golden yellow eyes of his. his gaze leaving yours to resume kissing all the place untouched by his lips.

you were slowly losing yourself when you feel him nibble the skin inside your thighs. his palms splayed to the surface of your outer thighs and it made you giggle a bit. the size of his huge hands isn't enough to cover the expanse of your thighs doubling in size at the placement.

the small lingering touches was enough to drive you crazy but to taiju, it wasn't enough. he needs to feel every inch of you. show that every part of your body is loved. despite the callousness in his hands from years of brawling, he knows the every bump of your body. the scars and the stretch marks decorating your thighs like it was lighting streaks. he made sure they are kissed, properly worshipped. it belongs to you and when taiju decided that he loves you, loving you wasn't enough. he needs to breath in the air as same as you and if you decide to betray him like what delilah did to samson, he'll ask you to do it again. the difference you weren't delilah and he wasn't samson. if you can't love him, what's the point of his life.

the strange feeling and yet, familiar slowly engulfs him. the coldness of your skin warm against him. he hears every breath you take from his ministrations and the low curse coming from your sweet mouth. he slowly lifts up your nightgown. revealing your soft, fat pussy glistening in wetness of your own slick.

his large hand grabs the underside of your thighs and lifts it up, placing your soft legs in his shoulders. the skin in your thighs are smooth. he just rubs his cheek to feel them before taking a lick until his tongue slowly inches towards your glistening cunt. slow, deliberate licks are what his tongue are capable of, he can do better than this but he only wanted to take it slow this time. feel the softness and the taste in his tongue. warm and saccharine sweet it is and he stops. it's only a taste and he can do more of it later.

he must be god's favorite child. the divine one have given him you and despite all the things that he had done — he was blessed with you and taiju was more than happy to please you with whatever your heart desires. spoils you to the highest of heavens that there's always a smile on your face.

the bed dips with the added weight of his body. hovering above you was taiju. the blue and white strands of his hair dangles above you. his stare intense while looking at his wife beneath him. he could lose his self forever to you before that he needs to feel you. worship you with his lips that you will know tonight and for the rest of the days that he's only devoted to you and only you.

the straps of your night gown is flimsy similar to a thread to his large hands as he slid them down from your shoulder to your arms. slipping it off below your body until your upper body is exposed to him and taiju known for his appetite, licks his lips in delight. he leans down to meet the soft skin of yours begging to be licked and touched by him. leave them with his hickeys and bruises. a reminder that it belongs to him. a lifetime of devotion a man can give to someone but to taiju, a night of devotion to you is worth a lifetime. and he had loved you for many lifetimes that could exist.

taiju leans down. the tip of his nose brushing to the pulse in your neck. descending down to your collarbones covered by your supple skin and then his lips dragging between your breast and stopping until he reaches your round stomach.

the flesh around the areas flat when you're laying in your back but in the slightest movement it moves. it ripples and it jiggles and you feel hot under the gaze of your husband. he had shown you many times how much he loves the part that you sometimes deemed as ugly but it was his favorite and you let him do whatever he wants with it.

the flesh spills in his thick fingers when he grabs them and taiju revered on it. he makes sure to love this part of your body the same he loves. so he makes love to it. his tongue's hot. leaving hot trail marks, he sucks on the parts where your stretch marks is prominent. kissing the scars on them and he didn't stop until he was contented.

the weight of your body is he welcomed a long time ago. you were only a mere centimeters taller than him in this position. his lap as your seat. eye leveled with your chest and this is the only time you can look down on him. his hand rubbing circles on your plush stomach and other is on your back.

“fucking divine.” he speaks and you've gone bashful when he compliments you. there is nothing more beautiful to taiju with your expression. he kisses you on your jaw and groaning when you tug on his hair. “make love to me, tai.” you murmur. kissing his cheeks and he melts at it. a man's weakness is his wife.

grinding on his erection, soaking it with your juices and he curses cause you're asking so sweetly for him and what kind of man he is if he couldn't give what you want and with the guidance of his hands, you finally sank to his cock. he slowly moves his hips. kissing your arms and then, then.... he couldn't think no more. being plagued by his thoughts of you and this sensation that he's connected to you.

he wants it to be like this every night and day and he'd worship you again and again until his last breath.

[spicy30]

Modernness of 1400s 004

Pairing: HOTD x Fem!Modern!Reader

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

cw: suggestive themes

Rating: 18+

Not proofread

Tags: @fan-goddess @meowmeowmothermeower @bunxia @your-favorite-god @coolalienstatesmansports @qwerrtsworld @wegottastayfocus @dakota-rain666 @talilosha

WC: 10.7K

Your nails dug into your palms and your jaw was clenched. It was silent as you and Aemond walked beside each other. 

“Was my uncle the one to strike you?” Aemond asked beside you and your eyes twitched at the mention of your latest humiliation. 

“What do you think?” You spat out not even bothering to look at him as you stormed down the hall. Only one whole day here and you had gotten bitch slapped and then humiliated in front of potential boy toys. It was unacceptable! Not to mention you hadn’t eaten anything because you were scared that you would contract something. 

“Yes, Daemon backhanded me, and then he-” You took a deep breath calming yourself. It’s not cute when you get mad. “Sorry. Yes, Prince Daemon was the one to strike me as you say.” You turned to face Aemond who had no expression on his face. It unnerved you. 

“Why?” Was all he said before walking beside you at a slower pace. 

“Because I’m not a messiah, or a saint, or whatever it is you guys have here to perform miracles. What do I look like saving someone without an eye-” Oooh, yikes. You cringed at your wording suddenly remembering Aemond had an eye patch. “Sorry.”

Aemond didn’t acknowledge your apology. In fact he didn’t say anything. What went on in that head, you couldn’t say. The man never let out anything but a smile that always looked condescending. 

You cleared your throat to speak again instead of being in the awkward silence. “Anyways, he told me if I couldn’t heal him, he’d kill me. I told him there wasn’t much I could do and he was going to chop off my head and I stopped him, then he backhanded me.”  

“You? You stopped my uncle?” You could hear just a little bit of surprise in his voice and for some reason it filled you with pride to know you could evoke something like that out of him. 

You smiled towards him and you felt your cut split open once more. “Why do you think he had those bandages on his hand?” 

As you reached your chamber doors, you both stood looking at each other. That small smirk on his face he always had now slightly more pronounced and of course you with an innocent little smile while blood coated your bottom lip. 

“Well, thank you for walking me to my…” You fought the urge to say room. “Chambers.” You let a small silence fall before taking a deep breath and looking at him with a sincere expression. “And thank you, for pulling me away from Daemon.” You opened your doors and before you stepped inside once more you looked back towards the Prince with a small smile. “Goodnight Prince Aemond.” 

“Goodnight my lady.” He gave a nod before you turned away, closing the door. Walking inside the candle-lit room you sat down. It smelled like candle wax and not the good kind here, you needed to circulate the air but if you opened the window it’d smell terrible because people here lacked basic hygiene and still throw their bodily fluids outside windows. 

Like really? Out of all the places, you somehow ended up in medieval times? It couldn’t have been during Roman times when there were aqueducts and running water, public bathhouses, and a pretty good sewer system?

You sighed and sat down on a chair refusing to touch your bed until you were out of this dress. You looked around your room or chambers as they called them here. Standing up you went to the window touching the curtains. Well at the very least they had good windows. Opening up the curtains you watched the lights of the city. 

What were you doing here? What could you do here? Why were they keeping you around? Did they really think you were some sort of god-sent messenger? You already couldn’t heal the king and Daemon made it more than clear that he was willing to kill you. Would others? 

You just wanted to go home. You felt as if you were going mad without music. You’d kill to listen to some modern music but if you did your battery would go down and wasting the only thing you had left from where you came from and wasting it on music was not something you were going to do. 

“Oh god, I can’t.” You sighed out in frustration. The smell of candles was provoking a headache. Bad enough you were sensitive to smell, but now living in a smelly city!? God you just couldn’t! Walking away from the window you opened the doors. “Oh!” You let out a small yelp. 

Queen Alicent and her father stood there seemingly ready to knock. “Your grace, my lord.” You nodded, greeting both. “Please come in.” You invited them in and both entered as you closed the door. 

You cringed internally hoping your room wasn’t too messy. Your suitcase lay open showing countless bottles of shampoo, soaps, and conditioner among other things. 

“Sorry for the mess, I was not expecting visitors.” You spoke as you quickly went to close your suitcase. “You turned and smiled and fought the urge to hiss as you felt your lip crack again. Had to apply something to it. 

“How may I help you?” You asked as you gestured for them to sit down and you sat on the side of the table. (Was it a coffee table or a tea table? Did coffee exist here?) 

“I do hope you have been enjoying your stay here…” Otto trailed looking around your room. He spoke with such a tone that it made you sit up right. “You seem to have taken quite well with your quarters.” He made an off comment as he looked towards your clothes which lay on the ground. 

“I have, and I am grateful for the crown’s hospitality.” It was clear what the implication was. The only problem was that in all honesty, you were not one to enjoy such word games. You lost your temper too quickly, but here you were a guest, you had to comply with whatever rules they had. “Should there be a day the Crown may have use for certain knowledge I possess I would be most happy to oblige.” This is probably the most formal you have ever spoken to since arriving here, but it was necessary.

“Good, now earlier today you spoke of genetics I believe.” You nodded. “You said it determines offspring coloring…”

“Yes the phenotypes and genotypes, is there someone who you would wish to know their parentage?” You knew bastards were unwelcome here but to go as far as this? 

“How accurate would you say you can get the answer?” 

“It depends on how much information I can attain. I would need the appearances of as many relatives. Mother, father, alleged fathers, alleged mothers, grandmothers, grandfathers and so on. The more the better. My method is considered extremely accurate. I can give the possibilities of the phenotypes that a child would have depending on the parents, this of course can also be used to prove…” You leaned forward and looked through your lashes towards the father and daughter. “Bastardy, if one so wished of course.” 

“Such information is sensitive, I’m sure you can understand,” Otto murmured, looking at you with serious eyes. 

You looked towards Alicent with a stern look on your face. “Queen Alicent saved my life. I assure you, that hasn’t been forgotten. Now, who is my investigation on?”

“The children of Princess Rhaenerya.”

…

You groaned as the maids opened the blinds. “No stop! Don’t open the windows, it stinks out there, just leave the door open.” You sat up on your bed stretching. You looked over towards one of the two maids who had opened the curtains. “Get me…two bowls of freshly boiled water and one cup, please.”

“Would you like me to bring you one of the dresses the Queen has gifted you, my lady?” The second maid asked and you shook your head. 

“No need, I won’t be leaving my room today but what you can get me is fruits or oils. Oh, and get me a pot to melt things plus some scrap rope, I have work to do today.” You spoke as you yawned standing up and looking down towards the family tree you had made last night, a whole lot of incest in there. 

When the second maid left you sat down and stared at the family tree. Of course, you did not know whether white hair was recessive or dominant nor if black hair was recessive or dominant, usually however, black hair tended to be the dominant trait and of course, the hair color genotype was incomplete dominance. There were too many possibilities and just thinking about it you felt overwhelmed.

“Oh my god, I don’t wanna do this.” You groaned out and just then both maids came back. You smiled and stood up walking away from your desk. “Beautiful. Leave me, I will call you when I need you.” Both maids bowed and left. Skipping to your suitcase you pulled out a tube of toothpaste and your toothbrush. “Oh, yuh!” You grinned and set your things down. You rinsed your face with the warm water cleaning your face. Then squeezing out a good amount of toothpaste you happily began brushing your teeth. 

After brushing your teeth feeling clean and refreshed you went over to smell the oils they brought you. Each with its own label. You squint your eyes muttering a curse. It was hard to read cursive written like this, though eventually you got the name. Six oils they had brought you, lavender, thyme, meadowsweet, marjoram, germander, and hyssop. All smelled quite nice so you’d make them all into scented candles. Going around the room you look at all the candles from the candle holders and dump them into a pot where to proceed to melt them all. You’re sure that scented candles already existed but honestly, you didn’t want to do the whole genetics equation just yet. You’d rather do a thousand other things than work on that stupid problem. 

You spent the better part of the day making your little candles, though you didn’t like the humidity that crept into your room. But now at least it didn’t smell bad inside your room, you didn’t want to ruin that by opening the window. Besides you were familiar with humidity, it never got better when you opened a window. 

Every day seemed to be a cruel monotonous day. You thought that being in a different era of time would result in more than you slaving over a desk testing out different possibilities of punnett squares so you get the most accurate answer you can. After all, if you got this wrong, well you’re sure it’s going to be your head on the chopping block. You got close enough last time and after nearly dying once, you can confidently say, this was NOT worth your life. 

You had initially thought that the white was received but that changed due to Jocelyn Baratheon being able to pass on her hair color to Princess Rheanys, but it was a different story when you looked at the Queen’s children, all white hair. 

“So what is it!? Okay, we know it’s heterozygous, but is the Queen’s brown hair homozygous recessive then or is it also heterozygous? Does that even matter?” You gave out a yell of frustration. “Ugh! Where are the French when you need them!? That one song, Ah! ça ira, ça ira, ça ira, les aristocrates à la lanterne! Ah! ça ira, ça ira, ça ira les aristocrates on les pendra!” Standing up from your spot you felt a sweat bead fall down your back. It was so hot you felt like you were going to die. 

On the fourth day, however, the heat became unbearable. “Fuck! I need a fan or sum!” You went and plopped yourself on your bed sighing. As you laid out you groaned as your back straight out. You don’t know how many hours you spent hunched over that stupid equation. You looked at your phone which was on the stand. “I deserve a song, maybe a movie.” Crawling you grabbed it and turned it on. Scrolling through your downloaded songs you fanned yourself. Finally, you settled on a song and as it began playing you walked around your room fanning yourself. Mid-song a huge grin grew on your face. Rolling up that damned family tree you pulled out another piece of paper and began sketching whole loudly singing the song that played in the background. After about an hour of your playlist playing a rough draft of a fan was born. 

You had no electricity, but a little inertia should do the trick. You went to your phone and powered it off once more before stepping outside and calling in the nearest maid ordering her to dress you. 

After being dressed you took your plans and headed off to find the blacksmith. Though mid-way walking through the castle you paused. You didn’t know where you headed. Walking around trying to find anyone, a door suddenly opened on your right. You backed away and Aemond came out looking towards you. You smiled. “Hey! Prince Aemond, where are you coming from?” You looked behind him to see a large dark room but before you could see anymore the doors closed. 

“The library.” He answered with a flat tone looking you over. 

“Oh! I didn’t know you guys had one, I’ll definitely have to check it out later.” You spoke in a cheery voice. This was perfect. A prince would certainly know the best blacksmith around. 

An awkward moment of silence passed. As he kept his eyes on you, you felt self-conscious and were suddenly aware of the fact that you had no makeup on and that the ugly bruise on your face was showing. Eager to have him focus on something else other than your face you spoke up. “Well! Prince Aemond, you wouldn’t happen to know a blacksmith…would you?”

“A blacksmith? Why would a lady such as yourself, require a blacksmith?” He looked you up in a questioning manner. 

“I need something made.” You answered and you could feel the judgment radiating off of him.

“Armor?” Aemond scoffed out.

“Goodness no. I’ve never even swung a real sword. I need other things made, and a blacksmith is the best I could come up with.” You ignored his tone and responded with a smile. You needed that blacksmith.

“What do you need to make?” Aemond pressed.

Rolling your eyes you responded. “Six spheres, two annuli, and five blades.” You watched his face and saw confusion on his face and you resisted the urge to give a smug smirk. 

“Hm.. and do you have money for a blacksmith?” He smiled down at you and you paused. No…you actually didn’t have any money.

“Hmmm…no.” You purse your lips and squint your eyes at him. You stepped away from him and pointed at him. “I’ll be back tomorrow or sometime.” That was all you said before you walked away. 

“My Lady, the King requests your presence.” A maid told you as we were just about to enter your room. You sighed and nodded letting the maid guide you to the King’s chamber room. 

“Your Grace,” You greeted looking towards the old man in the bathtub. “You summoned me?” You walked over to stand in front of the naked man. You tried not to let your eyes wander. It was not something you wished to see.

“The hot baths and the daily disinfecting work fine, but you have forbidden drinking wine. What am I to drink? Just water?” King Viserys heaved out and pursed your lips in thought. 

“A drink?” You observed the King, his skin was weak, gray and his bones were showing. He lacked nutrients. IV would work, but you didn’t know how to administer it and would rather not risk your first time putting a needle into someone who could have your head. “A juice of berries is something you can do. However, I will do my best to create a drink that helps your condition.” 

Great something else to add to your already long to-do list. Couldn’t the man just die already!? The Princess ascends to the throne, and you figure out how to return home without killing yourself.  

As you looked down towards the sickly man the gears in your head turned. Coffee could maybe give the allusion to feeling better, but where did coffee beans even come from? You couldn’t recall. Energy drinks were out of the question, and you had no clue how to even make them. Excess sugar? You didn’t know. Maybe some coconut water would help him. Coconut was good for people no? Maybe some milk? 

No wait, what if he was lactose intolerant? You saw their versions of toilets. Not cute, you hated using them. It was disgusting. 

“How long will you have me wait?” Viserys spoke out once more in a heaving tone. 

“I’ll have it for you by tomorrow.” You stood still and the room full of Maester stared at you. “Oh umm, your grace. Excuse me.” You corrected yourself before leaving the room. As you walked down the hallways you saw a familiar green dress. 

“Queen Alicent!” You greeted me with a smile. She only nodded towards you. “A small update on my work, I have figured out several potential linkages of genetics, I won’t be able to calculate percentages until next week give or take.” 

Alicent sighed and nodded. 

“...Along with that, can I ask for some…money?” You looked away from her as you asked. You hated asking for money. It was not something you were raised with. When given money it was polite to refuse it until you couldn’t. Asking for money was always out of the question. You even hate asking for your parent’s money. 

“Money? What for?” She responded and you played with the rings on your fingers.

“I am making something, it is to help me with my work.” You looked up from the floor and towards Alicent. You saw her give a small nod. “My deepest gratitude.” You bowed. 

“I will arrange a meeting with the master coin this afternoon.”

…

“Who’s that for?” A familiar voice sounded next to you. You rolled your eyes as you continued walking forward away from Aegon. 

“Not for you.” You had not spoken to Aegon since the dinner. After all, the man had pushed you. Granted, you did land in Jacaerys arms, which was not a bad thing, but still. It was the principal, and recently, you had heard of bad things he had done. Abusing maids, bastard children, and he was an alcoholic. Not the company you wished to keep. 

“I haven’t seen you in a week, not since our dance. I quite enjoyed our time together.” He spoke walking beside you trying to see what was inside the pitcher you were holding.

“I’m sure you did.” You answered in a flat tone and he stopped walking with a small frown on his face. 

“Are you upset with me?” He asked you, looking you up and down. 

“Did you do something to upset me? Because if you did then I am, but if you did not then I am not upset.” You looked away from him hugging the pitcher closer to you.

“What is with these riddles, woman? I asked you a question. Answer it plainly.” He rolled his eyes at you running to catch up with you.

“I did.” You gave a hum and walked into the chambers of King Viserys. 

Leaving Aegon behind you walked over to King Viserys who was on a table having his wounds disinfected. “I’ve brought a drink, it improves hydration, muscle health, nerve function, blood pressure regulation, pH balance, and heart health” Or at least that’s what your health teacher told you when you had a class assignment to make electrolyte drinks from scratch. 

You poured a glass for him and gave it to him as he sat up drinking it. He let out a sound of contentment while nodding. “This is good. What does it have?” You smiled, setting down the pitcher filled with electrolyte water. 

“Ah, just basic things, a little bit of sugar for energy, then some sea salt, then finally some orange juice. Nothing too complicated. I’d drink it once every two days, it’s filled with a lot of nutrients, and too much can cause damage to the body. However, when you wish to drink it, simply ask the kitchen for an energy drink and they’ll make it.” You walked around, filled another chalice and offered it to the head Maester who took it drinking just a bit to test out your latest concoction. 

“Thank you,” Viserys spoke with a more steady voice than he had in the last week you had spoken to him. He also seemed to sit a lot straighter. Maybe the old man had more than just a couple of weeks. No casket just yet! “I need less milk of the poppy these days to help me sleep, though I do occasionally have trouble, do you have anything for that?”

Damn! Damn, that old needy man! 

There were melatonin gummies but you didn’t know how to make gummies, much less what melatonin was made out of. “Em…drink…lavender tea or have the oils sprinkled in your room. It relaxes the body, and uhh… read a boring book. It’ll knock you right out.” You gave a grin at your joke.  

Viserys smiled and nodded, giving thanks. 

“Of course, it is the least I can do for the Crown's continued hospitality towards me.” With that, you bowed and excused yourself to start your search mission for a certain one-eyed prince. You needed that blacksmith, this heat was killing you and honestly, you can’t stand sleeping without a blanket but it’s too hot with one. 

You walked around till you finally found the library and entered. The first thing you smelt was dust. “Ugh! Goodness, do I have to invent dusters too!?” Sniffling you walked around searching for long white and impossibly straight hair. You smiled as you saw him reading a book. Walking up to him you set the bag of gold you had recently gotten from Alicent in front of him. “I have the money, now, about that blacksmith,” 

Aemond gave a sigh closing the book. “You’ll find blacksmiths on the street of steel.” 

“Seriously?” Your unimpressed expression said it all. “That's what the street is called? M’kay.” You turned around and as you went to walk off. 

“Not many women buy armor.” Aemond pointed out and you stopped thinking about his statement. That’s right, this was an…unevolved society, not that yours was super better, but still a little. They’d probably try to upsell you…like a car dealership when a car needs an oil change or when the tires need to be rotated. (As if the tires didn’t rotate when you drove.)

You walked over to Aemond with the sweetest smile you mustered. “You’re right, I need a man to come with me. Maybe someone from the city will watch?” You batted your eyelashes, it was just your luck that you did put on a little mascara and some blush today. “Unless,” You leaned over the table and walked your fingers to his book while looking up towards him through your lashes. You’d probably get a better deal and a better blacksmith while having the prince. 

“I have better things to do.” He responded in a flat tone but you didn’t miss the little smirk on his face. Though you didn’t know if that was just his resting face or something else. 

“Aren’t curious to know what I’m inventing? I know you don’t know what an annuli is. I am the next biggest step in technology, aren’t you supposed to be the smart one or something? I thought this would elicit some kind of reaction.” You sighed looking away from him and instead looked towards the ceiling leaning back on the table. “I guess not. I wonder who the smart one is then, perhaps the least expected one. Aegon? Maybe the woman, Helaena, wouldn't that be something?” 

“What are you inventing?” He spoke as you stood upright to leave. A smile grew on your face and you turned to him. “You’ll be the first one I show once it’s done. Promise.” You held out your pinky. He only looked at it. You grabbed his left hand and formed a fist on his hand leaving out the pinky. “You just wrap it around mine and this…” You looked at your pinkies intertwined with a smile. “Means a promise.” 

…

You sighed with a big smile on your face as you wiped the sweat from your brow away. You grabbed some small bottles of shampoo and filled each one with water before you attached it to one of the five blades until each had its own bottle. 

“Moment of truth.” You sighed out feeling jittery hoping that your hypothesis was right. You spun it as hard as you could and your makeshift fan spun fast blowing sweet cool air toward you drying the sweat from your face. You stood there for a couple of moments taking in the air seeing if the fan would slow down and to your satisfaction, it didn’t. 

You giggled with excitement as you jumped and pumped your fist in the air. “Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Nikola Tesla who!? Who needs electricity? Not me! Yes!” You relished your victory in front of your fan as the cool air flowed and gave you a nice breeze under your night clothes. Finally being able to relax you sat down sighing out in contentment. “This…this deserves a song!” You jumped onto your bed and began playing a song on your playlist as you danced around your room singing along. Mid celebration dance your stomach rumbled. Stopping you raised a brow realizing that your maids hadn’t brought you breakfast yet. Sighing you opened the door only to see Prince Jacaerys and his betrothed Princess Baela looking rather suspicious. 

“Your grace? Graces?” What do you call multiple royals? You made a mental note to ask Alicent when you met her later tonight. Though Jacaerys was quick to look away. You understood the guy probably didn’t have much experience with girls, but this was a bit much no? 

“My lady! You are a nightgown!” Baela spoke in a shocked tone and you looked down. It wasn’t like you were naked and this was rather covering, besides, you had shorts on under the dress. 

“Oh, so that's what this is called. I thought it went under the dress.” You spoke in a nonchalant tone. Why would this be such a big deal?

“No, you wear those to sleep. My lady it is midday.” Baela spoke once again, clearing her throat. Has it really been that long? You had begun assembling your fan in the early hours of the morning when you couldn’t sleep due to the heat. 

“Oh really? I guess time does fly by. Anyways I wear this all day, it provides good airflow, but I’m guessing this is not appropriate attire by his reaction….” You eyed Jacaerys if this was perhaps the first time he has seen calves and ankles on a woman before. That thought made you giggle. He’d faint if he saw the shorts for women’s sports. “Well I came to ask the maids to deliver me breakfast or I suppose lunch now. I do have a lot of work to do.”

“Breaking your fast? At this hour?” Baela asked and you gave a little annoyed sigh. You always ate late due to pressing matters. (Stupid genetic problems.)

“Yeah, they got me slavin’ me away. The work I’m doing right now takes priority and I’m allowing myself a small break to eat a bit.” You complained. You’d talk anyone’s ear off if given the chance about how much you didn’t want to do that stupid little genetic equation. 

“Okay well… if you see any maids.” You snapped while pointing at them both with a small smile. “Send 'em my way.” You then pointed to yourself and with that, you turned around and went back into your room. 

Finally happy with the fan in your room you sat down going back to the genetic problem. However, before you even picked up your writing utensil you promptly dropped giving a loud groan. “Argh! I don’t want to do this.” You said to no one before leaning back on the hard chair. “I’m actually not gonna do this, I’m gonna try something else.” You sighed and stood up not bothering to close the equations. Not like anyone could understand it at first glance. Hell even when you looked at it you got lost, and you made it! 

You didn’t bother writing out the names and only followed the main branch of the family. What it looked like was a whole bunch of random letters with squares and some math. Total mumbo jumbo to anyone else. At least you hope, you know Otto assigned illiterate maids to you, that man really did think of everything, and no one else ever came into your room aside from Otto and Alicent who would look and give a hum before leaving. You doubted they understood this. Besides the initials of the family blended in with the punnet squares. 

The door opened and there stood a maid who looked like she was shaking. You raised a brow. You never had maids before but quickly came to understand that people here saw them less than human. Therefore, due to never having maids, you treated them fairly well, why this one was shaking you couldn’t say. “Bring me more bed covers. The white thin ones, a needle and thread, and bring me something to eat.” But alas you had bigger problems than a maid who looked scared of you. If anything, a fearsome reputation was better here. “Remember no meat, preferably vegetables and fruits washed with boiled water.” You didn’t trust the meat here, there was no refrigerator to keep the meat fresh and that meant bacteria. Now you were rarely one to get sick but your immune system, you reckon, was a lot weaker here and you were vulnerable to any sickness so keeping yourself healthy and clean was paramount especially because modern medicine didn’t exist here.

While the fan was nice you definitely wanted a cooler spot and you also needed a cold place to sleep so that you could cuddle into your blankets, relishing in your own body heat. For that, you were going to create a little pod that would have a constant flow of cool air. 

Soon that scared little maid from before came with bed sheets and a needle and thread. You smiled and walked over to her, going to take the things from her. Your hand brushed her hands and she flinched away before apologizing profusely. Alright that was doing a bit much. “What is it? Why are you scared?” 

She shook her head incessantly. Your patience was thinning and you tossed the things onto your bed. “You either tell me why you’re scared or I’m gonna give you a reason to be really scared of me.”

“They say you are rabid.” She spoke and looked like she was gonna start crying. This girl couldn’t have been more than fifteen years old.  

“Whaaaat?” Your brow lifted and you tilted your head looking at the girl. 

“They saw your mouth foaming every morning when the maids come to take away the bowls you have every morning. Not only that but they all claim you are mad as well. The mysterious symbols on the paper and of course you spend ample time talking to yourself and some even claim that being around you for too long makes them go mad as well as they can hear melodies coming from your room and then they begin humming the melody.” The maid spoke. 

You looked her up and down giving a slow blink and your mouth was open. No way, they're going to claim you are a witch! “Seriously?” You asked the young maid nodded feverishly. 

You scoffed and laughed. “What’s your name?” You asked with a grin on your face. 

“Dyana if it pleases m’lady.” She spoke out quickly while keeping her eyes on the floor. 

“Oh, like Wonder woman.” You commented looking her up and down and she had a confused expression on her face. “Well Dyana, let me show you something.” Your bowl of water was still here when you pulled out your toothbrush. “This is a toothbrush, it is to clean your teeth.” You gave a wide grin to give her a good look at your white clean teeth. “My teeth are in much better condition than everyone here and I’m sure my breath smells better, at least I hope. Does it?” You tilted your head with a brow raised.

Dyana nodded and you smiled. “Okay now look here, this is toothpaste.” You showed her the tube and squeezed a very small glob out. You already brushed your teeth today and your supply was limited. You made a mental note to discover how to create toothpaste. “Okay now you wet it and,” You began brushing your teeth and you saw Dyana’s eyes widen as white foam started to form on your teeth. “See?” You spoke with a mouth full. You spit it into the water and then began fully brushing your teeth. Once you were done you cleaned your face and rinsed your toothbrush. 

“I’m not rabid, I’ll have you know I am fully vaccinated. This is just part of me keeping clean. Along with that, people and animals with rabies are hydrophobic.” Dyana only stared and you gave a disappointed sigh. You can’t blame her for being uneducated but it got to a certain point where you were tired of explaining basic things. “Hydrophobia means one has an irrational fear of water and cannot physically consume it or even touch it. I would’ve died by now if I was rabid. The human body can only go about two days without water and as you can see it’s been well over a week.”  

She nodded trying to understand. “It’s in the name. Hydro is derived from the Latin root of the word "hydro" is hydr-, which comes from the Greek word hýdōr, meaning "water" then there's phobia meaning fear which is also derived from Latin as well and there is also a Greek version. Though that one is phobos which is fear in old greek. So if you put both together you get hydrophobia. Yeah?” You nodded trying to explain this to her and to your surprise she seemed very interested. Though a small hint of confusion clouded her face. 

“Latin and greek?” She asked almost like tasting the words on her tongue. 

“Yes, Latin is a base language forming other languages like Spanish, French, Portuguese, Italian, Catalan, and Romanian among others. It also is in some English or what you all call the common tongue. I just happen to be fluent in one the latin based language and so then that leads me to be very familiar with other latin based languages like the ones I just listed.” As you explained Dyana’s attention was on you absorbing everything you said like a sponge. Maybe this wasn’t so bad.

“So how many tongues do you speak?” Dyana asked and you gave a smug smile. “Fluently, two, but I can carry basic conversations in French, Portuguese, and Italian.” It was a point of pride for you. 

“Very impressive m’lady. The royal family and the Valeryrons also speak another tongue, one from old Valyria. Majority speak Valyrian, like they do in the free cities.”

“Hm, I wonder what the base language is for it.” You nodded looking around the room. “Well did you have the kitchen prepare my food?” 

“Oh yes m’lady. Another maid should bring it.” Dyana responded by letting herself out. 

“No. I want you to bring it to me, Dyana. From now on, I only want you in my service. I will show you new things, if you want extra payment. Knowledge, especially here, is invaluable.” If everyone thought you were mad you couldn’t risk anyone messing with your food. Besides you didn’t know how hygienic the other maids were, at least you could teach Dyana basic hygiene and maybe she could spread it. You heard maids always gossiped. 

…

A scream woke up and you shot up shivering and wrapping your warm blanket around you but all you saw was white. “M’lady!” Dyana ran to you looking inside your little make-shift pod. 

“What is Dyana!? What is this madness!?” It was your first night trying out your latest invention. It had surprisingly taken you quite a while to sow everything tight enough so that now air would escape from the back or the sides. 

“Please forgive me m’lady I was simply surprised to see..this.” She gestured to your little pod. It must’ve looked strange seeing a white thing and not seeing you. Sighing you shook your head, though you quickly got out of bed to start preparing yourself for today.

As you were brushing your teeth you told Dyana to prepare a carriage for the dragon pit. 

“Why are you going to the dragon pit m’lady?” You looked up to her and smiled foam covering your mouth. 

“I’m going to go claim my winnings, Dyana and perhaps the favor of a Prince.” You spit and rinse your mouth. 

“Do you need help dressing?” Dyana looked concerned looking towards you. She hadn’t had the best experience with the one prince she had worked for, though you didn’t know that. She hoped it wasn’t Aegon that you were meeting. 

“No, but once you’re done arranging for a carriage or horse, it doesn't matter, bring me a cloak.” You ordered and Dyana bowed as you began preparing yourself for the day. Doing light makeup and taking out the only other outfit you had in your suitcase. Pulling out black capris and a brown ​​sleeveless halter top with a draped neckline you smiled. If this went right, you’d score more than the spoils of a bet. 

Fixing the small bits of hair you looked at yourself through your hand mirror. A shame they didn’t have bigger mirrors. You heard a gasp from behind and you saw Dyana with a black cloak in her hands. “M’lady, are you sure you should go out dressed in such a manner?”

“He told me to come in pants and I haven’t washed my other pants yet.” You shrugged, took your coat and slipped on the only shoes you had which were some sandals that you wore the day you fell off that bridge. Goosebumps coated your body as you thought about the unfortunate events that took place that day.

“Okay Dyana take me to the carriage. When you come back, clean my room, but don’t touch the desk, also please wash the sheets and once you’re done take the rest of the day off and when I return we can resume your lessons. If you finish before I’m back then feel free to continue learning the basics of English literature or simply relax, okay?” You spoke as you both walked to the courtyard where your ride was waiting. 

As you stepped outside you gagged. “God it smells like shit.” Taking out a small perfume bottle you always kept on you, you sprayed some on the collar of the cloak so that you could smell it while you rode through the city. Walking to the carriage you covered your nose while the coachman greeted you. You have a smile but you doubt he saw it. 

“M’lady.” He opened the door for you and you nodded speaking out a muffled thank you. As you sat in the carriage you closed all the windows and kept your nose covered but as it moved you began to feel sick. The smell and not being able to see that you were moving were doing a real number on your motion sickness. You heard the clattering outside and you wished you could go faster. 

You simply closed your eyes trying to recenter yourself and inhaling the perfumed cloak. It was the longest thirty minutes of your life. The door opened and instead of the smell of feces it now smelled like a cow farm. 

“Good Lord! Is there anywhere that smells just normal?” You muttered out making your way out. As you stood a wave of nausea hit you like a bus and you gagged once more. A hand extended and you took it. You looked up towards Jacaerys and he gave a smile while greeting you. You’d return it but you turned around before you could and gagged once more, only there was nothing to throw up as you gripped the side of the carriage. 

Damn medieval times. 

“Yeah, just uh…give me a second,” You gagged again. Desperately you wanted to throw something up to get rid of this headache that was starting to form.  “Sorry, motion sickness, and the city doesn’t exactly smell the best.” You reassured him. 

“You’d like it better on Dragon Stone.” He spoke in a low-tone and your brows shot up, not that he could see and if it wasn’t for you trying to throw up you’d say something back to encourage his implications. Instead all you could offer was a small hum before composing yourself and turning around facing him with a smile as you took off your hood. 

Time to focus, you were winning this bet and reaping your reward. “Sorry. Okay now, let's go see that wager.” Jacaerys offered his hand with a smile and you took it. You walked to the Dragon pit. 

“I want you to meet my dragon, Vermax.” You fought scoffing. Yes, it would be cool to see a komodo dragon but come on, if that was the best he could offer you so had this in the bag. Though you were quickly made to eat your words as the ground shook below you and your jaw dropped as a big olive-green with orange frills and orange eyes walked out from the dark pit. The only thing you could say was ask the most obvious question with the most obvious answer. 

“IS THAT A DRAGON!?”

“It is my lady.” Jacaerys let go of your hand walking to his dragon as it bumped its snout against Jacaerys. You stood still unable to process what you were seeing. This was a dragon, a real dragon. With wings and everything. Your words were caught in your throat and you felt like crying. It was overwhelming and you didn’t know what you were feeling. You felt your eyes water just a bit before blinking them away. 

Jacaerys frowned and quickly went to your side to ask if you were alright. As he stood next to you, you were quick to smell the dragon’s scent on him, but honestly that was the last thing on your mind. “Are you crying? I do apologize to my lady, I swear it, he will not harm you. We can leave if you’d like.”

“No! No, it’s just, that.. that’s a dragon!” You looked towards it with a smile. “A real dragon, like with…like, like, like with wings and, and…wait! Can it breathe fire?” You asked him and the smile on Jacaerys’s face said it all. 

He pulled you to the side. “Vermax! Dracarys!” You watched in awe as the dragon breathed hot flames that you felt the heat even if the dragon was blowing them in the air. 

You laughed looking towards Jace who shared your smile. “Oh my god!? Oh my goodness! This is- wha-!?” Words escaped you. You didn’t know how to describe this. “I fear the words I feel right now have not yet been invented.” 

“Yes, a dragon certainly makes for quite a sight.” He laughed as he held you close to him making sure Vermax knew not to harm you.

“Quite a sight!? No this is- this is! I can’t even say!” You tore yourself from Jacaerys’s grip and you turned to face him with a smile. “Y’know, imma pretty sore loser and I don’t admit defeat often, but this-” You turned around gesturing to his dragon. “I reckon you might just have me beat.”

“I thought you had dragons,” He spoke with a smug smile on his face but at this moment you couldn’t bring yourself to comment on it.

“Not like this. This is something straight outta a fairy tale.” You smiled looking towards the majestic creature. When you first woke here, you saw silhouettes but you thought you were just hallucinating. It was unthinkable that dragons were real. You paused to think. If dragons existed here, then what else was here in this world. Was there actual magic here? There was so much to learn!

“I was going to take you on dragonback. Of course if you-” Jacaerys coaxed you looking down towards you. 

“Say no more, say no more, say no more,” You spoke rapidly. “How do I get on?” You smiled towards him. Like hell you’d miss the chance to ride a dragon.

“Are you sure you are ready for it?” Jacaerys offered you a chance to back out. Were you scared of heights? Yes, but this was a once in a lifetime opportunity. If you fell, you’d die happy or maybe you’d get sent back home. Either way, no way you were missing this chance. 

“You could even take me Dragon Stone and show me why I’d like it more than here.” You offered with a teasing smile to encourage him. You saw him stiffen just a bit before giving a small shy smile and nodding. 

Walking behind you he took your hand extending it to the dragon. You closed your eyes looking away as you kept your hand out. You felt like Hiccup from How to Train a Dragon. 

You felt warm scales on your hand. Opening your eyes looking into the orange eyes. You breathed out a sigh of relief as you rubbed the dragon, a smile growing on your face. 

“Hi,” You spoke in a sweet tone like you did to all animals that you came across. “Hi baby,” You stepped closer pressing yourself against the dragon petting it and giving small scratches where dogs usually enjoyed it and you felt your body rumble as the dragon let out a sound. You gave a giggle, mumbling out praises in Spanish with a baby voice. You had forgotten Jacaerys was behind you until you heard a little laugh and you cringed. 

Damn!

Your face felt hot as you felt shame creep up on you. You cleared your throat giving one more pat before turning around. “Okay… you didn’t see that.” You walked away from him and Jacaerys followed.

“I’m afraid I did, My Lady.” He spoke with a smile and you rolled your eyes. 

“Kay, let's not. Now how do I get on?” You spoke trying to erase the embarrassing moment away. 

“Here my lady.” He climbed up the dragon helping you up. You sat behind him looking around for any kind of safety measure and to your displeasure there wasn’t any. Listen, yes you had just said you’d be fine dying but that doesn’t mean you wanted to.

“Where are the seatbelts?” You asked him and he turned to you, raising a brow. 

“Seatbelt?” He laughed out loud. He didn't know what those were.

“Safety measures?” You tried again only to be met with the same look. 

You sighed. Of course that didn’t exist yet, but they had to stay on somehow. “How do you stay on?”

“You hold on tight.” He gave a grin. 

“What!?” And before you could register Vermax moved forward. You gave a scream and hugged Jacaerys’s waist holding yourself close to him. “This is barbaric!” You yelped out and the only response you got was his laugh.

“Soves Vermax.” Jacaerys called and you recognized the wording it sounded similar to some word that you know meant fly. As Vermax continued forward and opened his wings, you definitely now knew what the word meant. 

You groaned as the wind pushed against you and you felt gravity push you down as Vermax lifted himself into the sky. You gripped Jacaerys clothes as hard as you could and suddenly your cloak flew off. 

“Oops!” You turned and watched your cloak fly off in the distance. “Oh well…” You murmured turning back and pressing the side of your face on Jacaerys back. 

You felt him look back towards you. He saw your face pressed against him as your eyes were squinted trying to adjust to the harsh wind.

“Not many can keep their eyes open on their first flight.” He spoke as Vermax finally steadied in the air. 

You furrowed your brows looking up towards him. “You’ve brought other women up here with you before?” 

Jacaerys stiffened and shook his head. “No.”

“Then how do you know?” You asked him. 

“When I first took my brother Joffrey up with me, he couldn’t keep his eyes open.” He responded with a smile recalling the memory. 

“Oh.” It was all you said before resting your face against him once more looking down towards the ocean. “How far is Dragon Stone?” You asked and he leaned back looking towards you again. 

“Not far on Dragonback but about a week's trip on ship.” He responded, turning back to steer Vermax up again to feel you hold on to him tighter. It was a little mischievous but he figured no one else was around to see, so it was fine. 

Finally breaking through the clouds you let out a sound of wonder looking through the clouds. “Yeah I think you might’ve just won this wager.” 

Jacaerys only responded with a laugh. 

You inhaled the clean air. Much better than King’s Landing. “It is better up here. Fresher…” You breathed out a jittery breath. “But colder.” You missed your cloak. 

“We’ll be there soon.” Jacaerys spoke and you hummed and nodded trying to take in the rays of sun trying to ignore the cold air. 

For the flight you both stayed quiet as you took in his body heat trying to warm yourself. The sight was truly breath-taking. 

“We’re here.” You heard Jacaerys speak and you looked over his shoulder seeing the grand castle. 

“Woah, nice place.” You commented but you felt your stomach drop as you saw Vermax’s head angle itself down. “Wait wait wait!” You screamed as Vermax dove. Just as you dove, you felt him steady out and you shook as Vermax landed. “Oh god,” You breathed out as you kept your tight grip on Jacaerys even though Vermax had now landed. 

A cold gust of wind chilled you. You regret wearing this sleeveless halter top. You don’t how long you stayed attached to Jacaerys before he asked if you were okay. You didn’t trust yourself to speak so you only nodded into his back. 

“Ready to get down?” He asked and once more you nodded. He slid down Vermax’s wing landing on a soft patch of grass. As he looked up his breath hitched. Once again Jacaerys looked away while helping you down. 

He heard a laugh from you and turned to you. “Don’t be such a prude, they’re just clothes.” You flicked his forehead and he rubbed it when you turned away as Vermax flew away. 

“So this is Dragon Stone?” You asked, looking around. He had taken you to the highest point of Dragon Stone away from the actual castle. He’d rather his mother didn’t find out about this little flight you two took. Daemon already didn’t like you and his mother was skeptical of you ever since you showed up that night in a green dress. 

“It is. Do you like it?” He mumbled as he stood behind you. He saw you nod and turn to him with a smile. You looked quite nice today, even if your hair was messy from the wind and your clothes brought up a feeling he’d rather not look into. 

“I do. You were right, this place is much better than King’s Landing. Smells a lot better here.” You sat down on the grass looking towards the sea and he saw your face drop a bit. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, sitting next to you. 

“I came here by sea. Sometimes I wonder if I can go back by sea.” You spoke never facing him. 

“You want to go back?” Jacaerys asked and you turned to him with furrowed brows.

“Why wouldn’t I? I miss my home, my family, my friends, and there was a guy I was pining after too.’ You purse your lips nodding looking at him. 

Once again another emotion Jacaerys would rather not name came up when you mentioned you wanted to be courted by someone else. This was wrong. He was promised to Baela. He shouldn’t feel this way, he shouldn’t have brought you here. Though Jacaerys could not find it in him to regret bringing you here. 

He sighed and turned away from you. “What is..your home like?” Would it hurt to know more about you? No he doesn’t think so. (Yes it does.)

You smiled. “My home is…very different from here. We don’t have dragons for one.” You giggled out. “But we have airplanes and cars. Modern technology I think would really shock you.” You turned to him only to find him already facing you. This time however, Jacaerys did not look away from you and all of a sudden you felt your face grow hot. You coughed out a laugh. “Obviously as you can see our clothes are different and our music is different and we have movies and TV shows.” 

“What are cars and airplanes, and movies and TV shows?” He asked. They were words he never heard before but was eager to learn. 

“Well…” For the next couple of hours you both spent speaking to each other about where you came from and explaining how your modern life was. Everything from schooling systems, water systems, judicial systems, the government and of course spoke about global issues such as wars and global warming. 

“It sounds…complicated.” Was all he could say. Weapons of war that could wipe out an entire city four times the size of King’s Landing, cities that housed millions of people, the planet heating up too fast, and the obvious power struggle between countries among other things you mentioned. Of course there were also the good things such as it smelled a lot better where you came from due to ‘sewer systems’ and proper hygiene. 

“It is and sometimes it is overwhelming thinking of it. It takes a lot to make an impact in the world now, but it’s what I want to do. That’s why I have to go back. I need to continue my schooling so that I can specialize in a field and perhaps one day develop something new that will have my name in history books and something will make me a lot of money.” You smiled towards the end of your sentence. 

“Can’t you do that here?” He mumbled out looking away from you. “The King already looks much better since you’ve arrived.” It was wrong, he shouldn’t try to convince you to stay here. You had a home and that was where you belonged, though a part of him wished to see you here. He was curious about you and for now that was all Jacaerys was willing to admit.

He began to grow nervous as you stayed silent. Perhaps he had offended you. “I apologize my lady, I misspoke-” 

“No—you’re right.” You cut him off looking towards him and slowly a smile grew on your face. “Here, I can…I can change everything. If I change the course of time, I can start feminism early! I can name the Roman water system after me and no one would think anything of it!” You leaned over to Jacaerys and grabbed his shoulders with a grin. “Do you know what this means!?” 

He only blinked towards looking towards you trying to process your touch on him and of course your words. “I can basically be Barbie!” You let go of him and covered your mouth. “Why haven't I thought of this before!? I’d be like a legend here! The things I can make! Pray tell I’m not the best at plans but…just maybe,” Yes you wanted to go home, but the chance you could make a big change was less likely there. But here! Here you could be whatever you wanted because you could make the rules here, all you would need is a position of power and influence. Make good deeds with commoners and you’d become one of the most important figures of history while being a woman. Big plus for feminism and while it wouldn’t all change in one life-time, if you can plant the seed here and now, there's no telling the impact it will have in the future and it would be all because of you. 

Jacaerys watched you go deep into thought and while he didn't know what a ‘Barbie’ was or feminism he did know that he no longer felt guilty for bringing you here if it convinced you to stay. 

“You’re a genius, Jacaerys , you know that?” You asked him, smiling. “You just gave this place the best gift you could ever give. It’ll for sure elevate the opinion of the common people for you since you’re in line for the throne. I’m going to introduce so many things! Mendelian genetics? No genetics! Darwinism? No, me-ism, I’m gonna name everything after me!” You smiled. “I’ll probably have to get creative so that not everything sounds the same, like Alexander the Great did with the library of Alexandria and all those other cities. Yes…” 

Jacaerys smiled and stood up offering his hand to you. “It is getting late, perhaps we should return to King’s Landing.” He watched you put on a bit. 

“I don’t wanna go back yet. I like it here, it’s cold and well the air is cleaner.” You looked up towards him as you laid back onto the floor looking at the darkening skies as the stars became visible. “The stars are never this clear where I come from…” You trailed off looking up with a small smile. Jacaerys sighed and laid down beside you looking towards the stars that became more visible by the minute.

“We’ll get in trouble if we don’t return soon.” Jace spoke and while he would rather stay here, he’d rather not have his mom ask him questions about why he was with you. 

You turned to him with a smile on your face and you touched his hair that was becoming overgrown. “You should keep growing out your hair, it looks better longer.” Jacaerys breath hitched as he felt your cold fingertips lightly graze his forehead. He watched you smile once more before looking back up towards the stars. 

He coughed and looked away from you.

Jacaerys doesn’t know how long you both stayed laid out on the grass watching the stars. It was only when he felt his eyes closing that he realized how long had passed as he now registered how dark it was. He jerked his head over to you seeing that your eyes were closed and your breathing was slow. He called your name a couple of times before you finally opened your eyes. 

“Hm?” You looked over as your eyes adjusted to the dark. You began stretching and took a deep breath of the clean air before relaxing once more looking up at the starry night. 

“It’s really late…” Jacaerys whispered. 

“Oh yeah…” You sat up looking around. You took in a shaky deep breath. It was cold. “Welp let's go back.”

“You’re not worried?” He asked as you both walked down the mountain. 

“No, why would I?” You were a little, surly Otto and Alicent would have questions. 

“What others would think about you being out so late with a man. Rumors spread when an unmarried man and woman are together.” He walked next to you seeing you shiver just a little. He was unsure if he should give you his coat, after the comment he just made. 

You shrugged. “Let them speak. What does it matter? You’re a prince and I am someone who they will never hope to reach. If I began to care what others thought of me, then I would not be someone who is ready for the success I am to bring here.” 

Finally you reached Vermax.

“Naejott Vermax” He spoke and you looked over. That’s right, Dyana had told you Targeyens spoke a different language. 

“Is that Valyrian?” You asked as Vermax came closer to you both. 

Jacaerys nodded. “Do you speak it?”

“I think I could recognize some words.” You smiled up at him as you grabbed onto Vermax taking in his warmth.

“Can you?” Jacaerys challenged.

“I’m pretty good at Latin languages, give me your best shot.” You grinned. Surely if you could recognize ‘songs’ you’d do pretty good.

“Rytsas.” Jacaerys spoke and your confidence went down slightly. You had no idea what that meant. 

“I need a sentence.” You tired again, no way you’d get something from just a word.

“Ñuho lento naejot guēse rōvēgrie issa.” Jacaerys spoke once more with a smile. 

“Damn…gotta stop setting myself up for failure.” You mumbled. Thankfully it was dark so he wouldn’t be able to see your shame creeping onto your face. “...I don’t know.” You tried to give a little laugh at the end. 

“The first phase was hello and the second I was telling you that there was a big tree in front of my home.” He laughed starting to take off his coat seeing as you were clinging to Vermax for dear life trying to warm yourself. 

“Never would’ve guessed.” You gave a smile trying to keep yourself from shivering. 

“Here,” Jacaerys offered you his coat and though you wanted to take it, it felt wrong.

“You’d be cold then,” You objected.

“I have more layers on.” He reasoned and nodded as you took the coat, wrapping it around yourself. 

“Can I go in front this time?” You asked as you climbed onto Vermax. 

He gave a hum thinking it over before nodding. “I’ll be steering though.” 

“That’s fine, I just want to be in front.” You nodded as Jacaerys sat behind you and suddenly he began to regret letting you sit in front. He would have to reach over you to keep a hold of Vermax meaning he would have to lean on top of you, but it was too late to say anything. 

He leaned over you and you bent forward consequently pressing your backside against him. He gave a cough trying to cover the groan. He’s never even been this close to a woman, much less in this position. It was going to be a rough ride home. 

…

“Thank you, it was nice.” You whispered out as you both snuck back into Red Keep. You both stood still in a dark corner to avoid being seen by anyone who roamed the halls. Jacaerys nodded fast hoping to leave his room and fast. He had grown painfully hard as the ride kept you snuggly against him and honestly it was starting to hurt. Though a part of his hopes you felt him against you. 

Looking down towards you while you were in his coat and smell of his dragon with your sweet scent tangled with each other, his mind was quickly becoming clouded with lust. Perhaps that is why he spoke in such a bold manner. “You told me you’d give me anything, no? As for our deal?” He whispered out looking around. 

He watched you smile. “You haven’t seen my surprise yet.” 

“I thought you said I won?” He breathed heavily clenching his fists trying to keep himself in check. 

“You still haven’t seen it, tell you what though, tomorrow night, come to my chambers and I’ll show you. I’ll make it worth your time.” You smiled and walked unknowing you left him with a very big problem to solve when he got to his own chambers. 

Note: This was a lot longer than I thought it would be. Also pls keep asking me things I quite enjoy responding to them!

Previous I Next I Masterlist

To be added to Tag list: !(•̀ᴗ•́)و ̑̑

[popamolly]

CAN WE PLEEEASE PRETTY PLEASE HAVE PLAYING VIDEO GAMES WITH THE VOX, ALASTOR, AND LUCI (AND ANYONE ELSE YOU WANT) AND SITTING ON THEIR LAP AND WHAT GOES DOWN FROM THERE (IM GOING INSANE)

have a nice day, love your writing, drink lotsa water!!!<3

៸៸ ﹟PLAYER NUMBER TWO!

characters. Vox, Alastor, Lucifer and Adam

warning. fem!reader, video game references, smut, 18+ minors dni

author’s note. i’m licking the plate clean at this idea because i just love it so much. thank you for the request anon, you’re so sweet and make sure you take care of yourself too, treat yourself to something nice! i added games to their personality so lmk what y’all think, did i match them correctly? also i have to say thank you sooooo much for 200+ followers??? like what??? i gotta come up with something very juicy for y’all. now enjoy sinners.

ALASTOR

“Ah!” The jumpscare from the scary game had you jolt in Alasto’s lap, making the usually cynical man grin down on your mischievously. You both had wanted to spend some quality time together by playing video games and of course Alastor picked the game, Tormented Souls.

Not only was it scary but it had a jumpscare at every damn left turn. It had gotten so bad to the point that you were sweating like a sinner in church— anticipating it, expecting it, and yet you still would jump. Though your lover Alastor had barely bat an eye to the scary bits as he controlled his character with delicate composure, progressing through the game with expertise.

Alastor wasn’t a saint, he had not only picked this game because it was scary but because he knew you would jump and every time you would squirm in his lap your hips would brush against his cock in the most delicious way. Call it a ploy to get you to grind on him or whatever you wanted to call it but he was too busy reaping the rewards of you in his lap during this gaming session, “Fuck!” You jumped again this time moving in such a way that you felt his hardening dick press against the panties that you wore, teasing you.

“Oh what is this my dear?” Alastor would grin, dropping his controller to grip your hips so he could force you grind on him. One thing led to another and you were moving your hips which such reckless abandon as he clothed cock just rubbed against your clit the right way, making your sopping pussy closer to an orgasm, “What a vixen you are! I barely even touched you and you’re already soaking wet. How entertaining.”

VOX

You were sitting in Vox’s lap, the both of you indulging yourselves in playing video games to take a break from everything at the V tower until you both were freshly rejuvenated for the next day. Though playing Minecraft might not have been a good idea because it caused for more stress than relaxation for some, especially Vox. “Why the fuck are my chickens escaping?” “Did you make a fence?” “It won’t even follow me, the fuck?” “They will follow you if you hold seeds.” “Where the fuck do I get seeds?”

He’d be yelling in your ear but the sound of his voice right on your earlobe and neck made you shiver. Vox noticed this and couldn’t help but smirk, “You enjoying being in my lap, sweetheart?” You turn around in his arms so you could straddle his waist with a suggestive smile. Before you knew it Vox was digging in his fingertips so harshly into your hips as he controlled your movements, impaling you with his cock and enjoying the way your pleading words fell from your soft lips. He bounced you up and down his length not giving a damn if your just came already. “V-Vox! It’s too much! Please…! Ah, fuck!”

Your pussy sucked him in greedily, velvety wall clenching around him as if you didn’t want to let him go. Vox drank in your form like a pure alcoholic. The breathless pants escaping his mouth was barely enough to make coherent sentences as his mind swimmed with bliss. With half lidded eyes, he watched you bounce along his cock, his eyes drifting downwards to watch it stretch you impossibly wide as you sank back down with a loud moan, “Such a naughty girl, enjoying my cock like a little fucking whore. Now tell me while you bounce on my cock,” Vox was in your ear again, groaning loudly but kept his serious tone, “How do I keep my Minecraft chickens?”

LUCIFER

“(Y/N) I finally got Ketchup to complete my duck island, come look! She is soooo adorable!” Lucifer held out his Nintendo switch for you to see the duck villager move onto his island. Your boyfriend— the King of Hell was currently obsessed with having a duck only Animal Crossing island and instead of taking the easy route he had spent weeks in search of Ketchup in the game and thanks to him manifesting it for himself sure enough he found the infamous Ketchup the duck.

You place your own Nintendo switch down to crawl into his lap, full expecting just to be all cute and cuddly but Lucifer had other ideas. How could he focus on creating a duckie empire in his game when your ass rubbed on him in all the right places. The man had been alone for 7 years— surely you knew he lacked physical touch and intimacy for a long time and now? Oh now he was touch starved.

“Her design is to die for! Lucifer now that you finished you could—Lucifer..?” Your eyes widen slightly when you felt Lucifer reposition you two with ease. You were now on all fours with your ass on full display for him, you turned on your cheek to glance back at him with a teasing smile, “What are you doing, Lulu?”

“I think you know my love,” With a snap of his fingers your clothes dissolved into nothing but smoke, leaving you naked and completely at his mercy, “Now don’t be shy, open up for me.” Suddenly your moans were filling the room, bouncing off the walls, leaving you nothing but a drooling mess beneath Lucifer. His grip tightened around your waist, giving you slow and deep thrust that had your eyes rolling into the back of your head. The lewd, squelch! sound coming from your pussy echoing throughout the bedroom, sounding like a sinful melody to the Kings ears. He picks up his pace, his balls slapping against your clit repeatedly as he hit that spot within you that made you arch your back more in desperate need for him to hit it again.

ADAM

“(Y/N) babe, I’m going to need you to stop shooting at the walls and actually shoot another player, please and thank you.” Adam was getting a bit annoyed with you during your gaming session of Call of Duty and it didn’t help that you were on his lap, blocking his own view— and getting himself distracted. Why did you have to sit in his lap again? Something about wanting to feel closer to him or whatever cheesy shit you said he wasn’t really paying attention. He was complaining about it but he just wanted to tease you, in reality he loved it, “Pay attention (Y/N), this is a team effort, can’t have you going down first, danger tits.”

Your back was to Adam’s chest and your boyfriend couldn’t help his cock straining against the fabric of his red apple print pajama shorts at the feeling of your warm cunt pressing against himself you didn’t mean it in the way but he took it that way. With a devious grin, he would bring his long slender fingers to rub your clothed sex teasingly, making you nearly jump slightly from the contact, “Adam—!”

“Focus on the game babe, I’m not doing anything.” Adam was such a liar. He had now snaked his fingers past the waistband of your leggings, groaning softly to himself upon making contact with your slick folds. He rubbed your clit making you completely submit to his ministrations with a soft moan, letting your body relax against him as you clutched the controller in your hand. Your toes curled and legs began to slightly close as Adam added a finger, then two, then three. “Spread your legs wider gorgeous, let me play with that pretty pussy.”

© POPAMOLLY 2024 all fanfics belong to me, do not copy, translate, or repost on any other social media.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Perfect Life || CL16 {3}

Summary: Charles is beginning to see the cracks in your facade and it only leads to more questions than answers in his quest to get to know you. Warnings: angst, swearing, sarcasm, abusive parents, flashback to Jules WC: 2.1k

One || Two || Three || Four

Ten Years Ago The nurses greeted you by name as you walked into the ICU ward with a book in your hands and your school backpack slung over one shoulder. For the last six months you had visited your friend twice a week and learned the names of all the staff while you sat at his side. 

“I have the new, unreleased, Jack Reacher,” you said as you took your seat between the bed and the window. The only other sounds in the room were the quiet whoosh of the ventilator and the rhythmic beat of the heart monitor. “Father knows the Editor at Bantam Press.”

You dumped your bag on the floor and opened the novel. The action thriller wasn’t something you would choose yourself but Jules had liked the series so you read it aloud. The neurologists seemed to think it could help him and the psychiatrists seemed to think it could help you.

“Moving a guy as big as Keever wasn’t easy,” you began the story. Time slipped away as you turned each page and you were so engrossed in the words that you didn’t notice your phone vibrating in your bag. You were late to your piano lesson, but more importantly someone else was arriving for his weekly visit.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Charles snapped as he breezed into the room and crossed his arms. 

“Same as you, visiting,” you murmured as you packed your bag up, leaving the novel on the table that had a vase of fresh flowers. You touched Jules’ hand with a silent farewell and kept your eyes low as you made your escape. 

You were almost to the door when an arm blocked your way. “Don’t come back again,” Charles growled. 

Your fists clenched at your sides as you dared to lift your head and meet his glare. “He is my friend too.”

Charles rolled his eyes. “You’re just a stupid little girl. He avoids you because he finds you annoying.”

“You don’t know what you are talking about.”

“I know he wouldn’t want you here.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded because he was probably right. That was the last time you visited Jules, and the first time you truly hated Charles. 

“That was harsh,” Lorenzo stated as you passed by on your way out of the room. 

Charles waited for the door to close before he asked his eldest brother, “Were they friends?”

Lorenzo chewed his lip and shrugged. “They weren’t friends,” he admitted and Charles turned his back with a scoff as he made his way to Jules, missing the quiet confession tacked on to the end, “They were closer than that.” 

You had been so furious when you left the hospital that you smashed your fist into a wall in the car park where your driver was waiting. 

“Phew, that’s quite the punch you pack, little lady,” a stranger had chuckled between the drags he took on his cigarette. “With a bit of training you could do some serious damage.”

You looked at the blood running over your knuckles but you were numb to the pain. “I like damage,” you commented quietly. “Do you know any trainers?”

Present Day Charles drove along the scenic coastal road towards Saint Tropez rather than the faster highways. He lowered the windows and donned a pair of sunglasses as the breeze whipped his dark hair back. Everything about his ostentatious image screamed old money until he smiled and it was too carefree. Old money didn’t show such emotion, your mother said it was uncouth to feel anything except superiority. Those weren’t her exact words but it was the gist of the conversation.

“You frown too much,” he commented as he handed you his phone. 

“I hardly have anything to smile about.”

“For starters, we escaped that - whatever that was, because it certainly wasn’t charitable. And now you are in control of the music. I think that is enough for a little smile.”

You tossed his phone back on his lap and turned your attention back to the waves breaking against the rocks. “I don’t listen to music.”

“Everyone listens to music.” 

He fiddled with the stereo and the slow melodic beginning to Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata filled the car. Each note sent echoes of pain shooting through your fingertips and you closed your hands as they began to shake. Your knuckles throbbed with the memory of sitting before your mother and reciting the classical greats you had been made to learn. You were constantly showcased to her friends, placed on a pedestal to flaunt skills that had no real purpose other than to illustrate the other families' mediocrities.

Until you made a mistake. 

You flinched as the allegretto movement began and your hands snapped close to your chest as you felt the piano lid come slamming down on them again. It was like falling in a dream and startling as you woke up. Charles was watching carefully as you found yourself back in the leather seat and not the velvet bench.

“Turn it off.”

He hit a button on his steering wheel and silence descended in the small space. “Want to talk about it?”

“No.” 

Charles thankfully let it go and concentrated on driving to Monaco. You didn’t even bother to argue with him when he passed around the outskirts of Nice without stopping, you had found a small distraction by making shapes out of the clouds. It was only when he slowed to drive through the signature winding street that passed the casino that you looked down at your chiffon gown and frowned. “I am overdressed, even for this place.”

“You can wear something of mine.”

“No thanks,” you said, quickly shutting down the offer with a shake of your head. You grabbed your phone from your clutch and sent a quick message to Arthur. “I have some spare clothes at your brother’s place, we can just pick them up.”

Charles’ brow lifted. “Why?”

“Because I don’t want to stay in this dress all afternoon?”

“No, why do you have clothes at Arthur’s?”

“For when I stay there, obviously. Do you think I stay in a hotel here?” You rolled your eyes. “No, wait, you probably thought ‘Daddy bought me a penthouse’.”

He had the good sense to look guilty but it also confirmed your suspicion. 

You knew the small city almost as well as Nice and found your bearings as he made his way to Arthur’s apartment complex. It wasn’t far from Charles’ but you had never been there, Arthur had just pointed it out on one of the many outings into the city. 

“You have a key too?” Charles asked as you unlocked Arthur’s door instead of knocking.

“You’re starting to sound a little jealous now.” The door swung open and Arthur waved as you shot past the sofa he was relaxing on and ducked into his bedroom to change into a pair of leggings and one of his old Prema shirts.

“Who’s jealous?” he asked as you flopped down beside him and used his thighs as a pillow. 

You draped a hand over your forehead and sighed dramatically. “Your brother is madly in love with me, but he can’t get over how close we are, Tur. There may be a duel at dawn, ready your pistols and kiss your mother in case it is the last time.”

“You really need a nap don’t you,” Arthur teased. His fingers carefully plucked the bobby pins from your hair and Charles watched on silently as the haunted look that had been in your eyes the entire ride faded away. “Dare I ask why you are here? You didn’t kidnap her did you?”

“I’d probably be floating facedown in the riviera if I tried that,” Charles replied with an indignant snort. “She voluntarily got into my car.”

“Ah, that’s progress, I suppose.”

“It was the lesser of two evils,” you corrected as you closed your eyes. The late night was beginning to catch up with you and a yawn cracked your jaw before a soft blanket fell over you. “Mm, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” 

Your brain hadn’t realised Arthur’s hands were still busy and the voice came from the blanket box where Charles had stood. Rather than question the goodwill, it was easier to pretend he hadn’t been nice because it was starting to really confuse you. 

“Did your genius brother tell you his plan?” you asked as you shifted around until you were comfy and looked up at your best friend. 

“He may have mentioned it on the drive home last night,” Arthur said. “Honestly, it was all he talked about.”

“Was not.”

“Was too.” Arthur turned his attention back to you. “Are you actually considering it?”

You barked a laugh that was a big enough ‘no’ but followed it up with, “Absolutely not. It wouldn’t even work anyway.”

“Why not?” Charles asked, taking a seat in the armchair opposite.

“No offence, but what do you bring to the table? Outside of F1 your name doesn’t mean anything.”

Growing up in Monaco where one in three people were millionaires, Charles wasn’t blind to reality, he knew first hand how elitist the ‘old money’ families were. “So why marry Jules?” 

You heard the pain that one question held and sighed as you sat up, woefully abandoning the idea of sleep. Charles didn’t like how the question made him sound petulant, or that he was somehow a better choice than Jules was - he didn’t think that at all, he just couldn’t understand why the plan wouldn’t work.

“It wasn’t about Jules. You forget that while he raced under the French flag the Bianchi’s came from Milan. The Italian market is one Father wants to break into.” You got up and went to the kitchen, pouring yourself a glass of Prosecco from the fridge. It was a little flat after being open a few days and you swirled the drink around, watching the bubbles rise to the surface. “Father’s five year plan was for Jules to win a championship with Ferrari, cementing the name back into Italian households, and then train his new son-in-law to join the family business.” 

The silence was heavy but Charles eventually recovered from staring out the window deep in thought. “Did Jules know this?”

“He knew enough.”

“What does that even mean?”

“He knew he was important enough to blackmail my father, kind of ballsy if you ask me, but it worked. Jules threatened to quit racing if he revoked the funding for your driving academy.” You drank down the Prosecco in a few unladylike gulps before refilling it as the bitterness in your belly grew. “Must have been nice to have someone fight all your battles.”

“I’m trying to help you now, but you’re being stubborn,” Charles said as he crossed the room and took the bottle away. “I don’t understand why.”

“You don’t understand? Maybe it’s because you treated me like shit for years and I can’t trust you.”

“I thought Jules didn’t like you, I figured it had to be for a good reason.”

“No, you figured you could judge me without even trying to get to know me. That’s pretty fucking shitty, but you know what? I’ve come to expect it from everyone. The only person that’s ever treated me like a fucking human being is sitting right there.”

Charles followed the angry point of your finger to his brother and sighed. “I can’t change the past, okay, but I am trying to make up for it now. Please, just let me help you, it’s the least I can do - for you and for Jules. It’s just a job.”

You crossed your arms and tipped your chin back to look him in the eyes. “What makes you think I would even protect you? I could let you get mobbed and point them in the right direction.”

Charles smiled and you realised you were no longer impervious to the fact he was quite handsome but it was his words that shocked you more. “Because I believe you’re better than that.”

“That might be your biggest mistake.”

Charles held his hand out. “We will have to test it and see. Deal?”

You looked at Arthur and so much hope filled his face it was impossible to stomach the idea of watching it fall away. So, you shook Charles’ hand and swore you heard Jules’ laugh in the seagulls' cries. Yeah, he would probably be laughing, he always laughed when you made a mistake. 

“There’s no use crying, lapinette, might as well laugh and learn,” Jules would say.

You only wondered just how bad this latest lesson in the school of hard-knocks would be.

Part Four.

[joelsrose]

Dust & Devotion

This was heavily Ethel Cain inspired I listened to Strangers by her on repeat

You lay on the mattress pressed against the worn wooden floor, your fingers tracing the deep cracks in the old boards, feeling each rough edge beneath your touch. The room was small, but in its quiet, it offered refuge from the nightmares lurking beyond these walls. You and Joel had found this place by some stroke of luck, an ancient cottage that felt torn between being a chapel and a farmhouse, unable to settle on either, caught somewhere in between—a sanctuary for the weary.

As you had stepped into the house, a strange kind of stillness fell over you, broken only by the crunch of glass beneath your boots. The walls were lined with worn, faded crosses, their wood splintered and edges chipped as if they’d borne witness to countless silent prayers over the years.

Religious memorabilia dotted the room—small, withered icons coated in dust, a cracked rosary tangled around a rusted nail, and framed portraits of saints, their eyes gazing somewhere far beyond this broken world. Many of the pictures hung askew, their glass frames shattered, jagged edges catching what little light crept through the boarded windows, casting fractured reflections onto the floor.

The hall itself was narrow, and every step brought a quiet symphony of decay—the soft groan of the floorboards, the creak of loose nails. A faint smell of mildew clung to the air, mixed with something old and faintly metallic, as though time itself had grown stale within these walls. You felt almost like an intruder here, disturbing something sacred, though forgotten—a relic of faith left to wither in the shadows.

Joel muttered his usual “Stay here,” his voice low and gruff, a command softened only by the familiarity of it. As always, you waited, lingering in the entryway as he moved further in, his steps deliberate and cautious, each one carrying a quiet vigilance. You watched his broad frame melt into the dim shadows of the room, his shoulders tense, every movement precise.

He scanned each corner, his head tilting just so, eyes narrowing as he checked every possible hiding place. You held your breath without meaning to, a small ritual of your own, waiting for that assurance, that single word that meant safety.

And then, after what felt like an eternity, his voice cut through the silence, firm and unmistakable: “Clear.” Only then did you feel your shoulders relax, the air finally leaving your lungs as you took a tentative step forward, drawn by the quiet relief that came only with his presence.

Now as you lay, you heard the familiar creak of footsteps from downstairs. Joel was moving around, probably hunting for something to sharpen his blade with. You could picture him clearly, brows knit together, that perpetual scowl etched into his face like it was part of him.

More movement followed, his footsteps a steady rhythm, growing louder with each step as he climbed the creaky stairs. You could feel the weight of his approach, the subtle tension that always came when he was near.

When he finally reached your door, he gave a soft knock—a restrained sound, just enough to announce himself without breaking the stillness that lingered in the room. You shifted, pushing yourself up onto your shoulders, back straightening as you awaited him, anticipation pooling in the quiet space between his knock and whatever he might say next.

“Come in.” Your voice barely escaped you, soft and fragile, as it always seemed to be around him.

He pushed the door open just a crack, enough to meet your gaze. “Water’s working,” he said in that low, gravelly tone. “But it’ll only be hot for a minute, so if you’re wantin’ a shower, better take it now.”

“Okay,” you murmured, your voice barely a whisper, and he nodded—a silent answer, as usual. Joel had a way of saying more with a tilt of his head than most could with words. You’d come to understand it in the time you’d known him.

You padded softly down the narrow hallway to the single bathroom, a neglected relic from another time. It was grimy and unkempt, the tiles chipped, the porcelain stained from years of disuse. The mirror was fogged with age, and something blackish lurked in the corners of the tub.

Yet, it was water, a rare luxury out here, and that was enough.

You paused, catching sight of yourself in the mirror. How long had it been since you’d seen your reflection so clearly? You tugged off your clothes, frowning as your gaze lingered on the hair on your legs—a trivial thing, but somehow, since Joel, it felt like something.

You caught yourself eyeing the counter, wondering if, somewhere, a clean razor lay forgotten, a stupid - pointless hope.

With a sigh, you stepped into the shower, feet curling against the cold, gritty surface. You turned the knob, anticipating the rare reprieve of hot water, but nothing came. Just the creak and groan of the pipes, the faint splutter of disappointment.

Frustrated, you stepped out, cracked open the door, and called out to Joel.

“What?” His voice bellowed back from some corner of the house, thick and unmistakable.

“Shower’s not working,” you shouted, annoyance leaking into your tone.

You could hear the muffled groan of him rising, could imagine his joints protesting as he pushed himself upright. His footsteps grew louder, and you realized suddenly how exposed you were, grabbing for your sleep shirt and hastily pulling it over yourself.

“You decent?” he asked, voice closer now, rough around the edges.

“Yeah,” you muttered, tugging the shirt down over your thighs.

He stepped in, casting a quick, assessing look over you. Your hair was loose, tumbling down your shoulders, ready to be washed. You caught him looking, just for a second, something shifting in his gaze. His eyes lingered at your legs, and you felt a pang of self-consciousness—the pricks of hair, the way your arms instinctively crossed over yourself.

He’d noticed, in those small, fleeting ways, how you’d started to care about the tiniest things—things he knew wouldn’t have crossed your mind before. The way you tugged at your sleeves when your hands felt rough, or how you’d sometimes run your fingers over your legs absently, a flicker of irritation passing over your face when they weren’t smooth. He saw it in the way you’d bite your lip and avert your gaze whenever you felt exposed, adjusting yourself, hiding those little imperfections you’d never have thought twice about.

Joel noticed, too, how you seemed to eye the worn-down counters in each place you landed, almost as if searching for some scrap of luxury—a mirror, a razor, a brush that hadn’t been cracked by years of dust and grit. He couldn’t quite explain why it mattered to you, but he noticed it all the same.

Joel couldn’t give a damn if you had hair on your legs or if your hands were rough from calluses.

He was a man, not some boy caught up in a picture-perfect idea of what a woman should be. He knew better. Life had taught him that women were more than delicate, pretty things meant to be displayed; they were fierce, resilient, built from the same grit that held the world together. But still, a part of him felt that quiet ache, that twinge of regret that the softness you’d once carried—the gentle things you’d once let yourself want—had been taken from you, piece by piece.

But as always, Joel said nothing, just knelt down with a quiet exhale, hands deftly working the knob until the pipes coughed and sputtered back to life.

You watched his hands, rough and weathered, calloused from years of hard work and survival. His fingers were thick, his nails perpetually rimmed with a faint trace of dirt, as if they carried the remnants of every struggle he’d ever faced. Those hands—hands that could grip a weapon, hold the collar of a man with an unyielding strength, fend off whatever the world threw at him. And yet, despite their harshness, you couldn’t help but wonder if they’d ever be gentle enough to cradle you.

You found yourself drawn to the thought of them, of what it might feel like if he allowed his touch to soften, if those hands could lay down their burden, even just for a moment. It was a ridiculous, hopeless longing, yet it lingered there, deep in the marrow of your bones—a wish that those same hands, capable of such violence and grit, might one day trace your skin with a tenderness they seemed almost incapable of.

There was something in their roughness that beckoned you, a quiet desire for the impossible, for warmth to spring from what had been hardened and scarred. And it haunted you—the idea that those hands, fierce and unforgiving, might hold you like something precious, just once.

The water finally trickled, then flowed warm. He held his hand beneath it, testing the temperature, his voice low. “It’s warm now. Better get in while it lasts.”

You nodded, avoiding his gaze, murmuring a soft “Okay.”

As he left, he left the door slightly ajar, his figure starting to disappear down the hall. But before he turned away, he glanced back, catching a glimpse of your bare shoulder and the slope of your back as you stepped beneath the stream, the thin pink curtain closing around you like a final curtain on the only softness left in this world.

[mikkomacko]

blurb of when mob boss! nico and reader get their dog

Muscles aching and tired, you shove the last of the moving boxes into the oversized trash bag on the kitchen floor. You look around the space, heart fluttering happily.

You have a house. Yours and Nico’s home, a forever home. A place that’ll hold dinners and parties for your large family, will fill up with stupid trinkets and legos that you two collect. One that’ll hopefully one day hold wedding photos and then baby photos, that’ll protect and raise your family in whatever way you choose to grow it.

Biting at your lip, you move back into the living room, mentally thanking Nico for having the boys set up all the furniture this past week. All you and him had to do was overlook everything, and unpack the boxes of personal things from the apartment.

“Hey,” Nico calls from the living room where he’s supposed to be setting up your takeout dinner on the coffee table. “There’s another box in here for you.”

Any sense of peace or relief you felt at finally being done fades, irritation filling the space instead. “No I don’t,” you grumble, but he’s right.

Right in front of the fireplace and tv is a large box, unmarked except for the thick black sharpie on the side that reads FRAGILE and your name underneath it.

It’s Nico’s handwriting.

“What is it?”

He’s sat on the couch, Gatorade in hand and he laughs. “I don’t know, s’yours.”

You glare at him, tired and even more annoyed when you see how good he still looks after a day of moving. You feel gross and sticky, hair a messy knot on your head and eyes heavy.

“You really couldn’t check for what’s in there?”

Nico shrugs, a sly smile on his face and you groan. All you want to do is sit on his lap and enjoy your favorite ramen place, watch tv and soak in your first night in your new home before Alex moves in tomorrow.

Dragging your feet over, you frown in confusion when you see the box move. The top of it isn’t even open, in fact it looks like it’s been placed upside down. You prod at the box, startling when the box feels like air and a tiny snort creeps out from the cracks underneath.

“Oh my god Nico I’m scared.”

He gets up from the couch, touching the small of your back with his warm palm. “Of what?” He laughs, nudging you forward. “Just open it.”

Sighing, you press into Nico’s side, stretching your leg out to kick at the bottom corner with your sock clad toes. Tentatively, you lift it with your toes, leaning down to get a peek at what’s in there.

Four large paws, white and fluffy. You gasp, scrambling back from the box and turn to look at Nico.

“No,” you say, shoving at him not that he budges. “You did not.”

His eyes crinkle, a laugh shaking his chest and he motions to the box. “Well let the poor thing out, Jesus Christ.”

As if knowing that you’re talking about him, the box snorts again and you giggle. Crouching onto your knees, you gently lift the box again. This time you keep going, smile widening when the white paws extend to furry little legs, and then a chubby little chest, and finally a big black nose. Two dark brown eyes stare at you, a dark fluffy tails wagging.

And yet the Saint Bernard stays perfectly still, like he’s waiting for you to reach out and touch him.

“Nico,” you murmur, tears welling in your eyes. His hand touches the top of your head, fingers stroking through your hair.

“Sprechen,” he says, and the dog tips his head back, yelping in greeting. You giggle wetly, looking up at Nico and he smiles proudly. “It means speak. You try,” he encourages.

You peer at the dog, “sprechen,” you mutter quietly and he yelps again, tail wagging even faster when you laugh in delight.

“Oh he’s so cute Nico,” you cry, finally reaching out to pet him. He nuzzles into your fingers when you scratch between his ears, the tag on his collar jingling. You grip it in your fingers, lifting the silver tag. It’s a smooth silver circle, a devil engraved into the front.

You flip it over, lip wobbling when you see the name engraved.

Moose Hischier

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I don’t know how you live here,” Nico grumbles, glaring at the roof of your apartment where the neighbors dogs are howling.

You laugh, stroking your fingers over the back of his hand and turning up the volume on the movie. The dogs have never bothered you, but Nico hates how loud they are. You think he’s just gotten too used to his soundproof penthouse because you find the dogs comforting.

They’ve never kept you up at night or interrupted your studying or woke you up too early.

“I think they’re sweet,” you murmur, and he runs his fingers through your hair, twirling a strand around his finger. “And I like to baby sit them for extra cash when the family is out of town.”

Nico snorts. “They sound vicious.”

“They’re not,” you insist, “plus I’ve always wanted a dog. But my mama is allergic and it’s too hard to have one in school.”

“Yeah?” He hums, “what kinda dog? I hope not one of those rat ones that always look dirty.”

“No,” you laugh, tilting your head to look up at him. He’s leaning against the headboard of your full size bed, looking down at where you’re laying in his lap. “I want a big one. A Saint Bernard.”

His eyebrow raise in surprise, but he looks delighted to hear that. “Really? You need a big yard for a dog like that.”

“I know,” you say proudly because you’ve done extensive research on these dogs. And you know how expensive it is to adopt one let alone raise it. “S’why I’m waiting. But I know I’m gonna get him one day.”

“A boy?”

“Yeah,” you look back at the movie, “and I’ll name him Moose.”

“But he’s a dog?” Nico asks, amused.

“That’s why it’s cute.”

He’s silent for a moment, fingers still playing with your hair and you think he’s dropped the topic, invested in the movie again.

“Saint Bernard’s are from Switzerland, ya know?”

You grin. “I know.”

“We use them for avalanches because they’ve got good noses.”

“Yeah,”

“They’re really loyal too. And protective.”

Teasingly, you look up at him. “It seems I have a type…”

Nico raises an eyebrow, cheeks tinging pink and he shakes his head, trying to bite back his pleased grin. “My nose good be better.”

You reach up, stroke your finger down the bridge of straight nose. “I like it,” you whisper earnestly. “I like you.”

“I like you too.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I can’t believe you remembered his name.”

You let go of the tag, stroking over Moose’s fluffy little face. He licks at your hand, steps closer to you and you scoop him up in your arms.

“Course I remembered,” Nico says incredulously, “you talked about that dog like he was your long lost child.”

You dig your fingers into his fur, squeezing him to your chest as you stand up to look at Nico with teary eyes. “Moose,” you try, and he wiggles excitedly, nuzzling into your neck. “Sweet boy.”

Nico reaches over, pets at his back softly. “You like him?”

Nodding, you sniffle back tears and hug Moose even tighter. “How could I not? Oh he’s perfect Nico.”

Your boyfriend beams with pride, dimples in his cheeks and teeth biting his bottom lip. “He was trained in Bern,” he tells you, “German commands but he understands English too.”

“He’s bilingual?!” You gawk, “what?!”

“Yeah,” Nico chuckles. “I wanted him to be able to protect you. Certain commands in English will make him more protective, vicious, ya know? That way if you say them in a dangerous situation he knows to protect you. But in German he knows it’s just regular behavioral ones.”

Your eyes sparkle, so enamored and in love with Moose already. Peeling him away from your neck, you look into his pretty, brown puppy eyes. “You’re already so smart,” you coo emotionally, “so smart and so pretty.”

You hug him again, looking at Nico with sweet eyes. He can’t help himself, he wraps you and the dog up in his arms and squeezes you into his chest.

“Thank you so much Nico,” you mumble, “I love him so so so much.”

“You’re welcome baby,” he kisses the top of your head. “I love him too.”

Preening, you pull back from Nico and skip towards the couch with Moose in your arms like a baby.

“Now I just need your daddy to teach me German words, huh?”

His chest warms, fuzzies and pleasant prickles fluttering where his heart is. Nico swallows heavily, urging the butterflies to go away but he can’t help it.

He loves you so much.

“Moose,” he calls, following you over to the couch. The dog’s ears twitch, looking at Nico expectantly. “Kuss.”

You giggle like a child on Christmas when Moose licks a wet kiss onto your cheek. Shyly, you tilt your cheek to him again. “Kuss.” Nico laughs when Moose licks you again and you gasp in surprise.

Tilting your head up at Nico, you flutter your eyelashes at him. “Nico, kuss?”

Chuckling, he leans down and kisses you. And again when you repeat it because really, who is he to deny you?