#i just think it’d be a fun dynamic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

flowersandbigteeth · 2 months

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Now I’m thinking about how cute of a story it’d be if a human woman reader had a preference towards monster men, but she kept getting used by a lot of monster fetishists to fill their own fantasies. Getting her heart broken constantly as they didn’t see her as a being with real feelings. And eventually she gives up…But of course x monster comes into her life and tries his best to court her cause he actually does love her and see her as a person. Reader of course is very jaded and thinks he’ll use and abuse her too, just like all the others.

If you’re still interested in writing somber stories with a happily ever after in the end, something like this could be fun to explore. The ugly exploitive relationship dynamics taken onto human women by monster men.

Like just imagine reader is sitting in a park, having a picnic, a monster comes up to her, is pleasant, and reader thinks that this is going to be “the one” finally, and gets her heart broken again when he asks her for a one night stand. Or even worse…hands her a card to work at a human x monster exclusive private fetish club…

Um...so I ended up with something close to this, but kind of with a different spin. I've been wanting to do a mothman for soooooo long and this just came together in the right way. So here he is ^_^

Mothman (Roth) x f reader

Word Count: 9.5K

General Plot: Your gargoyle crush asks you out on a date and things don't go as planned.

TW: nsfw mothman smut, moth genetalia, a lot of teeth, kidnapping, sexy pheromones, a bit of violence, reader being tied up and gagged, revenge, mating and soft yandere vibes, bad boyfriends

“Five, ten, fifteen…fifteen,” you sighed counting your tips as you sat on the curb outside the kitchen of the Italian restaurant you worked at.

Tears bubbled in your eyes as you realized you hadn’t made nearly enough to cover the rent you were already late on.

“How you doing mite,” a deep voice rumbled behind you.

You heard a squeak and then a thunk as Tyre, the chef, dumped some trash. Wiping your eyes, you peered up at him, trying to hide the redness on your cheeks. Tyre was a handsome gargoyle with slate gray skin and piercing blue eyes. He smirked as your eyes met. Sniffling, you tried to clean up your face.

“Nothing, nothing, I’m fine.”

He glanced down at the odd dollars and some change in your hand.

“Bad night?”

You sighed.

“It’s always a bad night.”

He scratched his chin, eyes traveling from the top of your head to the slip-proof shoes you had to wear.

“There’s someplace I ought to take you,” he said, eyes taking on a predatory gleam. “You like monsters, right?”

You blushed, unsure what to say now that your secret wish seemed like it might be coming true. You’d always had a crush on Tyre. He was big and strong with a rakish smile that made all the waitresses swoon.

“Um…yeah, I guess.”

“Good,” he said, grinning. “You’re off tomorrow night. I saw it on the schedule.”

You were going to beg for another shift from one of the other waitresses, but if you were only going to make a few bucks, you figured you couldn’t pass up the chance for a date with your crush.

“Yeah,” you murmured, your breath a gasp.

He pulled a phone from an apron pocket and handed it to you.

“Put your address in here. I’ll pick you up. Wear something pretty.”

Overcome, you could hardly speak, typing your address and phone number into the phone.

“See you tomorrow night, mite,” he winked before walking back inside.

The door slam made you jump, but your heart was already pattering. Tyre had finally noticed you! Ever since you’d started that job, you’d been in love with him. It was true. You did like monsters, but not in a weird way. You were curious, but you were too shy ever to ask Tyre any questions about himself. You didn’t want him to think you were a weirdo fetishist trying to get in his pants for a thrill. But finally, he’d noticed you and asked you on a date!

Despite the lack of money in your pocket, you hopped up from the curb with a pep in your step. Maybe something was finally going right for you for once.

When you arrived home, you frowned at the yellow notice taped to your door.

EVICTION NOTICE: VACATE THE PREMISES WITHIN 15 DAYS OR YOU WILL BE REMOVED

Your breath caught in your throat, and you wondered if you should call Tyre and cancel your date. Walking inside, you frowned. Your apartment was small, if you could even call it an apartment. It was only one room with no kitchen or bathroom. You had to use the common toilet down the hall, and you either ate food you brought home from the restaurant or cooked noodles on your hotplate. Still, you couldn’t even afford this little closet.

Where were you supposed to go? Pulling out the crumpled fifteen dollars, you stuffed it in the large mug with all your tips. You already knew how much was inside. You counted it over and over again every night, hoping it would magically bloom to a higher sum.

One hundred and fifteen dollars. That’s how much you had to figure out a new home with. While tears bit at your eyes, your feet were exhausted from running around all day, so you flopped on your dipping air mattress and fell asleep.

You woke to the next morning to your phone buzzing and grinned at the message on the screen.

“Pick you up at 9.”

Scooping up the phone, you beamed. As you dropped it on your chest, you indulged yourself in a quick fantasy. You’d go on a date, Tyre would fall madly in love with you, and then you’d move into his flat, have his little gargoyle babies, and everything would turn out just fine. This had to have happened for a reason, right? All afternoon, you skipped around your apartment, trying on your meager array of outfits for just the right one.

When 9 came around, you sat on the edge of your bed, checking and rechecking the message. 9, he did say 9, right? Right. He’ll be here.

Thirty minutes later, there was a heavy knock on the door. You tripped over yourself to answer it, eyes lighting up the moment you met the cool blue on the other side. He looked you over, a meaty hand braced against the doorframe, showing off his massive biceps.

“Look at you, mite,” he said, brushing a curl of hair from your face. “You clean up nice.”

“Ah, thanks, Tyre. It’s nothing really,” you half whispered, words having a difficult time making themselves past your lips.

“Come on,” he said, taking you by the arm. “You’re gonna have fun where we’re going.”

“Where are we going?” you asked, from the inside of Tyre’s Denali, as he cruised down a dark alley.

You had only just realized it was a little late to be going to a restaurant, so where was he taking you? He only smirked at you, eyes glittering in the dim vehicle.

“You’ll see,” was all he would say.

You should have been concerned, but the truth was you were down bad. You were about to be evicted, had hardly any friends, and no boyfriend. Your last situationship with a werewolf had been a humiliating disaster. You needed this. He pulled into a parking lot, flashing a black card, and a gate lifted, allowing you inside.

“Here we are,” he said when he parked, circling the car to help you out.

When he’d set you on the ground, he frowned for a moment, scrubbing his chin.

“Let’s’ fix this,” he said, grabbing the tight skirt you were wearing and hiking it up your hips so it was more of a mini skirt. Then he yanked on the neck of your sweater, pushing it down over your shoulders.

“What? Where are we going?” you asked, getting a little more concerned.

He only looked at you lazily, reaching a hand down to smudge the makeup at the corner of your eyes more.

“A private club. Freaky girls like you love this shit,” he assured you, though he was becoming less and less assuring.

What did he mean by “freaky girls”? You were just a normal girl. You liked reading books and cooking when you had the chance. There was nothing “freaky” about you at all.

Grabbing your shoulders with his big hands, he shoved you forward through the dark lot. Around you, large, monster-sized, luxury vehicles were parked in neat rows. When you reached an odd metal door, he knocked with his knuckles. A hatch slid open, and bright green eyes peered out.

“What do you want?”

They narrowed on Tyre.

“You’re not welcome here.”

You gulped, cheeks reddening, looking between the pair of eyes and Tyre.

“Tell Roth I brought him a new girl,” he said, “Told him I’d pay my debt.”

The eyes flicked down to you for a moment, and the door squeaked open.

“Tyre, what is going-?”

You didn’t get a chance to speak as the large, man with pale skin and green eyes snatched your wrist up and dragged you away from him.

“Tyre! Tyre!” you half shouted, confused as he jerked you down a dark hall, but looking back, the gargoyle only smiled and waved at you.

“Stop screaming. You’re disturbing the ambiance,” the man holding you in his firm fist, hissed.

When he opened his mouth, you could see sharp fangs framing straight white teeth. The rest of your words caught in your throat as he dragged you through the club.

On a large platform in the center, human women dressed in skimpy outfits danced on stage to oddly alluring music. Where the bright stage lights didn’t shine, you could see monsters of all kinds with human women clinging to them engaged in a frightening variety of sexual activity.

Three gargoyles were sharing one woman, splayed on a table. A centaur had a woman strapped to him with some sort of harness, and your eyes popped when you saw the way he used her. Your heart started to race as you put two and two together.

You’d heard about these clubs. Places where well-paying monsters could play around with human women to fulfill their fetish fantasies. Yes, you liked monsters, but you would have never stepped into a place like this, not for all the money in the world! You experienced enough creepy fetishists as a waitress. It seemed the only time anyone offered you any real money was to take you home for a night of their own entertainment.

Betrayal cut you to the core, remembering Tyre’s words. He’d brought you here to repay a debt! He never had any plan of dating you at all! You were nothing more than a trinket to be traded!

Panic startled you to your senses, and you started to fight the vampire holding you.

“LET ME GO! LET ME GO!” you screamed, jerking so hard on your wrist that you thought you might break it.

He narrowed his eyes at you.

“Jesus, that bastard. He tricked you to come here, didn’t he?” he hissed, frowning.

He paused, thinking for a second, and for a moment, you thought he might let you go.

“Still, I’d better take you to Roth and see what he wants to do with you. Can’t have you running off to the cops and blowing up our whole operation.”

Clubs like these weren’t exactly legal. Along with the girls, they usually sold drugs and were the sort of place where you could hire a shady person to do below-board jobs.

To silence your screams, and to the amusement of a few of the monsters standing nearby with drinks, he slipped the tie from around his neck and tied it tightly around your head, before he stripped off his belt and used it to secure your hands. Then he flopped you over his broad shoulder, carrying you out of the larger room up a set of stairs. You bit on the gag, desperately trying to saw away at it with your teeth, but it was no use.

You couldn’t see, bouncing on his shoulder, but you heard a door open, and then you saw it shut.

“Tyre brought you a girl, boss,” he said.

Suddenly, he flopped you on the floor, forgetting you were a fragile human. You squealed as you hit the carpet hard, pain radiating up your side. Looking up, you froze in fear. The room was dim, the edges hardly visible, the only light a small lamp on a large wooden desk. Peering past the light, you met the gaze of two glowing, red orbs on the face of a dark body you could hardly make out. All you could tell was that it looked large.

“Why’s she tied up?”

The voice was almost a hiss, like silk sheets rubbing together.

“Tyre tricked her into coming here.”

The orbs disappeared for a moment, then appeared again along with a long sigh.

“That idiot.”

“What do you want me to do with her? Dump her? Put her on the floor? She’s pretty enough. She’ll make us some money.”

Your heart pounded, as your future was being discussed without you. Dump her?

“Leave,” the voice barked, sounding irritated.

You whimpered as you heard the heavy footsteps of the vampire leaving and the door slamming behind him. There was a rustling, and the big body behind the desk grew much larger. It wasn’t a shape you recognized, two large protrusions arching over either side of its head and then two more feathery-looking ones on top. Heavy steps echoed in the quiet room as it rounded the furniture and loomed over you.

A clawed hand emerged from the darkness, clutching your chin, slowly turning it from side to side as his red eyes examined you.

“Hmm. A little flame,” he purred.

You tried to scream again, but all that came out was a muffled whimper.

The protrusions jumped as the creature chuckled. The monster kneeled down next to you, and only then, you could make out his features, just barely. His neck was thick and fuzzy, as was his body, the angular slabs of muscles softened by a coating of black down. Up close, you could see the two side protrusions were actually silver wings, and the ones on top, were elegant antennae. They twitched as he looked you over. His facial features were invisible behind more black fuzz.

“I’ve been wanting a pet,” he said more to himself than you.

The red orbs narrowed to slits.

“Do you know what we do at this club?” he asked.

You’d gotten a pretty good idea when the vampire gave you the impromptu walk-through. So you nodded.

His lips cracked, and jagged white teeth glinted at you.

“Good.”

Clawed fingers slipped through your hair, scraping your scalp.

“You’ll be well fed and kept, but you are my pet. Mine.”

You let out another muffled squeal, shaking your head as tears tumbled down your cheeks. A thumb slid through the wetness before traveling to his red tongue.

“Mmm,” he said, smirking. “Even your tears are sweet.”

By that point, you were hyperventilating into your gag, the world getting spinny as you panicked. You’d started your night daydreaming about gargoyle babies, and now you were being adopted as some kind of fuck pet for a monster boss. Your breaths grew increasingly shallow until the darkness writhing at the edges of your vision merged into a large black spot, and the world went silent.

—

You jerked awake by the sound of screaming. The stone floor beneath your cheek was cold, so you sat up abruptly, only to awkwardly flop over onto your side. You were still gagged, but now you were bound by your ankles, as well as your wrists. The room you were in was dark except for a small lamp hanging from the ceiling. It put out just enough light to see the large figure of the mothman who’d taken you as his pet and an orc you didn’t recognize. You shrank back against the wall behind you, immediately afraid of what would come next, but their attention wasn’t on you.

Another scream pierced the air, making you wince. It sounded almost like…Tyre.

“Please! Please! She came willingly, I swear!” he said, his tone frantic, all the aloof coolness you’d crushed on erased.

“Did you tell her what we do here before you brought her?” the orc barked.

“She was dying to get her cunt pumped with monster cock. All those girls love that shit,” he spat. “She’s just a whore like the rest of them.”

“Tyre?” you murmured, but it only came out as a quiet grunt behind the gag.

Roth nodded at the Orc and you heard chain rattle, then a crunch as he whipped the heavy metal into Tyre’s face. For a moment, you almost felt redeemed. Like Roth might care about your honor, but his next words evaporated that thought.

“You know I don't like liars, Tyre,” he hissed, his voice still terrifyingly quiet and emotionless. “You brought me a problem. Now I've got to tie up a bunch of loose ends.”

You were shocked Tyre could still speak, though his words garbled.

“She's a slut! She wants it! Just ask her! She was ready to open her legs for me for nothing!”

Tears poured down your cheeks, hearing the gargoyle you'd been shyly admiring for a year now finally revealing what he really thought of you. He was just like your last monster “boyfriend” who’d dumped you when he realized you were more than just a doll to play with.

One night after hooking up, his phone started going nuts while he was sleeping. Unable to help yourself, you'd glanced at his texts, humiliated to find he'd been detailing his conquest to his packmates. You were just a joke.

A “monster-cock hungry slut,” in his words. You stupidly let him sleep peacefully through the night, only asking him about it in the morning. You remembered his sharp green eyes full of humor and his disgusting sneer when you'd confronted him.

“What'd you think this was? You really think a weak little human like you is good for anything but a quick fuck? Don’t fool yourself. You wanted my knot like a dirty little bitch in heat and I gave it to you. End of story.”

You broke into big, ugly, wet sobs as your whole world collapsed around you. Your body shuddered against the gritty cold floor, tears forming dark spots on the surface.

Across the room Roth’s antenna twitched. He gave the orc a look before crossing the room to crouch down next to you. He dug a thick hand into your hair, lifting your head. Your tears blurred his glowing eyes to wobbly blobs.

“You're crying for him? Is he telling the truth? Are we wrong to punish him?”

You sniffed, whimpering and shook your head. He dropped your hair abruptly, the gesture suddenly becoming something close to comfort. He patted your head a little stiffly as if he wasn't sure what to do with you.

You watched him blink, looking away for a moment before he scooped you up, curling his wings around the two of you. He carried you back across the room, turning your face into his soft chest before he spoke.

“I want his teeth when you're done with him,” he hissed at the Orc.

Tyre begged behind you, his voice brassy.

“She's lying! That bitch is lying!”

Roth didn't even flinch, striding confidently out of the room. As he carried you down a dark hall you heard screams following you until they finally faded.

Roth walked slowly up a long staircase until he reached an elevator. It occurred to you, every room you’d been in was dim, this elevator included, just light enough for someone with average eyesight not to trip over themselves.

Your stomach dropped as the elevator ascended, finally letting out an echoing DING when it reached the desired floor.

He stepped forward and you peeked out from behind his wing.

You were in a beautiful, but dark penthouse. Through the wall to wall windows you could see the stars of the night sky twinkling through. The furnishings were expensive, all black and chrome.

“Welcome home,” the mothman said, his voice ever soft.

He set you down on a black couch and you flinched as he crouched in front of you. His long nails picked at the knots binding your wrists and ankles until they were free.

The moment your limbs were your own again, you slid to the opposite side of the couch, frantically untangling the gag.

“Let me go!” were the first words that bubbled out of your lips.

Roth’s blood eyes narrowed at you. It was unnerving you couldn't really read his expression, his facial features obscured by dark fur.

“Go where?” he asked, calmly, his head tipped to the side. “I had my associates look into you. (Y/N), broke waitress, evicted…where will you go?”

Your cheeks burned that he knew so much about you.

“I don't know. Not here. Not a pet.”

“You'll live better here as a pet than on the street as a stray.”

You blinked and he was a few feet closer to you, stretching his long fingers out to drag a knuckle down your cheek.

“No matter. I'm not letting you go.”

You snorted.

“Until you get bored with me and toss me out again.”

His eyes became narrow slits.

“Did someone throw you out, (Y/N)?”

Your eyes burned into his, heavy with rage. This was just the cherry on your monster loving cake wasn't it? At least, he was honest and called you what you were to him. A toy. A pet. An object to break and throw away.

“It doesn't matter. You're all the same.”

You heard a hiss and then his claws pricked your cheeks, pinching your face. Bright eyes filled your vision.

“Are we?” He asked.

Your confidence faltered and you swallowed a lump in your throat.

“You own a human fetish club. Explain to me how I'm wrong. You see us as weak objects to be passed around.”

He bared his sharp teeth at you.

“You will not be passed around. You. Are. Mine.”

You drew your legs underneath your chin, glaring at him, but winced as a sharp pain shot through you.

“Ouch!”

His eyes widened and his fingers left your cheeks, clawing at the tight skirt you still wore. You tried to wiggle away, but his wing boxed you in so he could glide a thumb over your bare skin. It seemed impossible he could see anything in such a dark room, but he growled at the painful spot on your hip where you'd landed when the vampire dropped you.

“Don't!” you hissed, jerking your skirt down.

You watched his eyes open and shut, before he stood.

“Damian!” he said so softly, you weren't sure who he was talking to.

You jumped as an elegant Naga appeared, wiping his hands with a towel.

“You called, sir?” He asked his yellow eyes drifting to you only for a moment before they returned to Roth.

“Bring Vince. Make her some food.”

The Naga nodded sharply and disappeared.

He sat next to you on the couch, stretching his wings slowly and resting his forearms on the tops of his legs. Seeing him closely, now, you could see he was tall with broad shoulders, not including his massive wingspan.

“The girls I employ want to be here,” he said, turning his face to you. “They get paid well and they enjoy their work.”

“Is that your pitch?” you sneered.

He flashed his teeth, chuckling.

“No, you won't be working the floor, but you should know the facts,” he said. “Tyre broke a pact bringing you here. I don't kidnap humans.”

“Except me.”

“You're a unique situation.”

“I won't tell anyone if you let me go,” you promised.

He was hard to read, but you got the impression he was examining you.

“I'm not letting you go. I want you.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” You blurted, your heart starting to race again.

Roth didn't have to answer as the elevator dinged and the vampire from before stepped out.

“You hurt her. Apologize.”

Vince’s eyes found you and his eyebrows rose. Giving the mothman a contrite glance, he crossed the room, bending down to one knee in front of you and dipping his head.

“Apologies, miss, I was too rough with you. It won't happen again.”

“Good. Get back to work,” Roth said, tone blunt.

“Have a pleasant evening, miss.”

Vince stood and winked at you with a little smirk, before he boarded the elevator again and disappeared.

“Come here, you need to eat,” Roth said, gesturing for you to follow him.

You wanted to say no, but you hadn't eaten, expecting a quiet dinner with Tyre so you slowly got to your feet and crept after him.

In the dining room Damian had set the table with a little flickering candle and red roses. Roth politely pulled out your seat for you, encouraging you to sit down. Though you were hungry, you glared at the food in front of you as he took his own seat.

“Something wrong?” he asked placing a napkin in his lap.

“How do I know you haven’t drugged this?”

“Why would I?”

You blinked at him, opening and closing your mouth as you thought of what accusations to spew.

“I don’t know! So you can have your way with me or whatever!”

Though you couldn’t see his lips, a triangle of teeth appeared as if he were smirking.

“I don’t need to drug your food to do that. Personally, I would rather my lover be conscious when I have her.”

You crossed your arms.

“How many lovers have you had?”

He snorted, picking up his knife and carefully cutting his meat into little cubes.

“That’s a rather personal question little flame,” he said, before sticking a bit of meat in his mouth and chewing. “What would you say if I asked you the same thing?”

Your cheeks burned, realizing it was a very rude question. His low, scratchy voice drove you insane. Every word he spoke was soft, deliberate, and calm. None of your fussing seemed to move him, much. Unsure what else to say, you turned your attention to your food. The first bite was apprehensive, but after you’d swallowed that, your hunger took over and you quickly consumed the rest.

“Damian is a good cook,” you commented.

“I can tell he’s happy to have someone new to cook for,” he said, scooting a vegetable out of the way with his fork. “I usually have the same thing every night but this is new.”

Your cheeks burned that he’d made such an effort, but with nothing left on your plate, you weren’t sure what to do next.

“Come with me,” he said rising.

You narrowed your eyes on the vegetables he’d left behind, only eating the meat, but followed him out of the room.

The penthouse was large and airy, the atmosphere perfumed with rows of night blooming flowers arranged in planters outside of the open glass doors.

“You keep the doors open?” you asked.

“Though I enjoy my luxuries, my people rested in trees for thousands of years. I like to feel the breeze,” he explained. “Don’t be concerned. You are very safe here. I have security posted everywhere.”

Your eyes jumped to your forehead hearing that.

“Are you often under attack?”

“My business is a dangerous one, but I’ve been at it for many years. You are safe. This is our room.”

He opened a heavy door and led you into a sumptuous bedroom. A four poster bed sat at the center with silver chiffon curtains fluttering in the breeze flowing in through the open balcony doors. Moonflowers and datura swayed on an arbor framing the entrance, the moon hanging in the center. It’s blue light cast a silver glow over the plush white chairs and vanity.

“Our room?” you gulped. “I have to sleep with you?”

He chuckled.

“I don’t sleep on a bed, usually,” he said. “My kind sleep upright on a perch. The bed is for your comfort.”

You shuddered, a dark thought passing through your head.

“H-how…how did you know you would need that?”

In the darkness, you followed his red eyes.

“Damian brought it up while you were resting.”

You wrinkled your nose. Collapsed from panic on a hard stone floor while he tortured Tyre was hardly resting. He suddenly turned to you, grabbing you by your waist and placing you gently on the bed.

“W-what are you doing?” you mewled as his claws curled around the edge of your skirt, scooting it further up your thigh.

He pinned you with a glance, before turning his attention to the bedside table and extracting a little pot. Opening it, he scooped some gel from inside and carefully smoothed it over the darkened bit of skin where a bruise was forming. It tingled, easing the slight ache.

His eyes lingered on the patch of skin, before his claws split the fabric.

“Stop! Stop it!” you screeched, trying to push him away with your smaller hands.

It was only then you really understood how strong he really was. He didn’t budge, but captured your wrists in a hand while the other shredded your sweater.

“I’ll buy you better clothes,” he assured you when you were sitting underneath him in only your underwear.

You regretted wearing your skimpiest pair, as you’d planned on seducing Tyre with them. Now you felt naked and vulnerable, the red light of Roth’s eyes outlining your curves.

He swallowed, heavily, making a small grunt in the back of his throat before he released you and stood.

“Sleep.” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “The sun is rising.”

Peering past him, you could see the sky getting ever so slightly lighter. He pressed a button and heavy blackout blinds lowered automatically. The sliding door slid shut, making the room pitch black except for Roth’s eyes still shining in the dark.

You let out a yip as his wings fluttered, stirring the air in the room and he delicately perched on the rail at the end of the bed.

“Are you going to watch me sleep all day?” you barked, crossing your arms.

“Yes.”

You sputtered your displeasure, but weren’t sure what to say. Hurriedly scooting under the coverlet, without meaning to you let out a satisfied hiss as you sank into the bed. Having slept on a droopy air mattress for many years, this bed felt like you were nestled in clouds. As much as you would have liked to stay awake, glaring at Roth until he went away, your eyes slid shut and you drifted off.

–

“Miss, miss,” you heard a voice in your ear.

You pried your eyes open, taking a moment to remember where you were. Sitting up suddenly, you were met with Damian’s yellow gaze.

“Time to wake up,” he said, “I have breakfast for you in the dining room.”

You blinked, realizing you could see him fairly well, and glanced at the windows to see the blackout blinds had been lifted and the sun was well on it’s way below the horizon.

“But it’s evening,” you muttered.

He smirked, slithering around you to open a door and then another.

“We operate on the boss’s clock here. Mothmen like the dark, they don’t see to well in the sunlight. Here, this is the bathroom and the closet is here. I spent the afternoon purchasing you some new clothes, but if you’d like something else, just tell me.”

“Oh, um…okay.”

Damian gave you a slight bow and slid out of the room, shutting the door behind him. Taking a breath, you climbed out of the coverlet, first examining the balcony. Standing just in the doorway, since you were still dressed in lingerie, you could see the whole city spread out before you, streetlights flicking on one by one as the sun set.

On the deck, along with the flowers, was a swinging chair and a small fish pond. You watched the white finned fish swimming in lazy circles below a few lotus flowers before you went back inside.

Poking your head in the bathroom, you found it was quite luxurious and to your surprise when you flicked the switch a real light turned on, not the dimmed bulbs everywhere else. Damian, you guessed, had stocked it with a fresh electric toothbrush and all the essentials. Oddly, there were either the exact products you had in your bathroom or the not value brand versions. Instead of the face cream you used, there was a high end cream you’d always dreamed of buying. The same with the makeup, hair supplies, and soaps. Satisfied you had what you needed, you crept into the closet.

It was one of those fancy closets, you’d seen in magazines with clothes arranged by color and an island in the center full of shelves holding jewelry, scarves, shoes, and-

A sharp scream burst from your lips.

Damian appeared in the doorway, out of breath as if he’d been slithering at top speed.

“What’s wrong?” he gasped.

You pointed a shaking finger at what was a multi compartment jewelrybox, but instead of jewels inside there were carefully arranged, polished, teeth. Hundreds of teeth.

“What the fuck is that?” you squealed, jumping behind Damian’s body as if he could shield you from them.

He let out a sharp breath, looking relieved.

“Heavens, I thought something was wrong,” he sighed.

Your eyes darted between him and the box of teeth.

“There IS something wrong! What the fuck?”

“That’s the boss’s collection,” he said.

“D-do those teeth come from people?” you whispered. “Are they real?”

Damian nodded as if that was the most perfectly normal thing in the world.

“He likes to collect the teeth of his enemies. It’s some mothman cultural thing. It’s kind of neat if you take a good look at them. There are specimens from several species.”

“He keeps them in his closet?”

“Where else would he keep them?”

You felt light headed and slumped against the vanity sitting just by the closet door. Were Tyre’s teeth already part of the collection?

“It’s part of his culture, (Y/N),” he said. “Children in your culture put their teeth under their pillow for their parent’s to collect. Think of it that way.”

You shook your head, rubbing your eyes.

“Please, please stop. I don’t want to hear any more.”

“Is anything else the matter? Do you like your clothes?” he asked pleasantly.

“I-I didn’t get a chance to look.”

Damian nodded and slipped into the closet, returning with a handful of items.

“Why not wear this outfit,” he said. “I saw it on a Pinterest board and I think it will suit your figure.”

“Er…thanks,” you said, taking the pile as he slipped out of the room so you could dress.

You took a long shower, trying to clear your mind of the teeth cache you’d stumbled across. When it was finally time to put on clothes, you had to admit, the outfit Damian had chosen was quite stylish, though you looked a bit like a mafia wife with a diamond tennis necklace around your neck and matching bracelets on your wrist.

You crept down the hall to the dining room to find Roth waiting on you, surrounded by paperwork. You yelped when to his side you saw another monster you recognized handcuffed and gagged on his knees next to him. His nose was bloody and one eye was swollen.

“What the- Elijah…what?”

Roth’s eyes rose to you, lingering for a moment before he gestured towards your breakfast.

“Eat, your food is getting cold,” he murmured, turning his attention back to whatever he was working on as if the monster by his calf wasn’t eyeing you for help.

You hardly noticed if the fluffy pancakes Damian had provided were good or not, because you were trying to sort out what the monster “boyfriend” who’d jilted you a year ago was doing handcuffed in the dining room. It was hard to know where to look and words escaped you as your mind spun with messy thoughts.

Halfway through your meal, Roth gathered his stack of papers and tapped them on the desk to straighten them before he spoke.

“Now that that’s all done,” he said. “Time to other business.”

He stood, dragging Elijah by his collar along the table to you, leaning on it casually as if everything about this wasn’t very, very illegal.

“What would you like me to do with this one?” he asked, a clawed hand slipping through your freshly washed hair.

You stared up at him for a moment, a bite of pancake still half chewed in your mouth before you swallowed it hard. Your mind’s eye immediately went to the tooth collection in the closet.

“Um…I don’t know? What do you mean ‘do with him?’”

Elijah whimpered loudly, begging for mercy.

Roth’s eyes narrowed and he kicked him sharply to get him to sit still.

“Well, I can give him to my boys and have his teeth extracted or you can keep him around the club polishing the girl’s shoes if it makes you feel any better. They make a game of bullying miscreants. I’ll only take his fangs and claws if you’d like to show him mercy. But he’s not getting away without a punishment.”

He grabbed the werewolf, by the neck, his red eyes reflecting in Elijah’s green.

“Monsters like you make me sick. I ought to take your balls.”

He pried his lips apart, his thumb running over a fang. Though Roth’s voice was low, it was thick with a terrifying cruelty.

“All that power, all the gifts you’ve been given and you use them to trick the ones smaller than you. You could have had a willing human woman on her knees in front of you playing whatever games you like, but you get off on torturing the sweet ones.”

Elijah’s eyes were wide, full of terror. They flicked to you, begging for forgiveness.

“I don’t want you to kill him,” you said, your voice thin.

Roth looked up at you and tipped his head to the side.

“Pity.”

His eyes flicked down to his captive.

“I suppose you have a new job, hm?”

He narrowed his eyes again, head dipping down so he was close to Elijah’s snout.

“(Y/N) is very kind. I am not. If you get into trouble, I’ll take what’s left of your teeth and dump the rest of you in a ditch. Understand?”

Vince appeared from the shadows making you jump and dragged Elijah out.

“Have fun with the girls!” he called after him.

“Was that really necessary?” you asked, glaring at Roth. “Yes, he broke my heart, but his fangs? His claws? Threatening to kill him?”

Roth slipped a knuckle under your chin, his eyes arcing in what must have been a smile.

“My job is not easy and my world is not kind. Strength and cruelty are sometimes required to take care of the ones who can’t help themselves. That’s the way things are.”

You huffed.

“You’re horrible.”

Fangs flashed in the dimming purple light streaming in through the window behind you.

“I’ll happily be horrible so you can always stay sweet. My methods may be unappetizing, but it’s worth is to see the truth reflected in your eyes. You deserve to feel justice.”

He leaned towards you, searching your gaze.

“And even if you won’t admit it, I can see that you do.”

Your eyebrows jumped and your ears burned.

“H-how did you even know about him?”

“I went through your text messages.”

“You have my phone? Give it to me!”

He shook his head.

“You haven’t properly settled in yet. I’ll give you a new one when you’ve come to accept your place here.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You’ll soon get used to it. Come on.”

He beckoned you to get up, leading you towards the elevator.

“I have a use for you,” he said.

You flinched, narrowing your eyes at him as your heart tightened in your chest.

“What use?”

“The girls always have things they need. Some new brand of makeup comes out or melting spray, whatever that means. I have no idea, but I’m sure you do. Can you handle a budget?”

You nodded, more curious now that your “use” wasn’t anything alarming.

“All you have to do is receive their requests and figure out what we can afford to buy every month, what’s most important and all that. Then hand over your report and I’ll have one of the guys deal with the order. Simple enough?”

“Sure,” you agreed.

He patted you on the head and you peered up at him, trying to read his expression as the two of you landed on the first floor. The club was empty this early in the evening, except you could hear the titter of women through one of the doors that led to the back. A cyclops was restocking the bar, slicing limes and he nodded to you politely when you met his gaze.

Without writhing bodies, you could see that it was a very pretty place. Tufted benches in Navy blue velvet formed curved shapes housing glossy hardwood tables. The walls appeared to be some kind of fabric with an elaborate swag curtain arrangement softening the corners. The bar was a slick snake-like shape running along one wall, the liquor bottles lined up to the ceiling lit up by gold light.

A woman with bright pink hair came rushing through a side hallway, looking in her purse for something, almost slamming right into you.

“Oh sorry!” she squeaked, looking up.

Her eyes widened at you, then looked to Roth.

“New girlfriend, boss?” she asked, a sly smile growing on her face.

Glancing up at him, you couldn’t tell behind his black fuzz, but you almost thought he might be blushing.

“I’m Candy,” she beamed, shaking your hand.

Roth waved at you.

“(Y/N) will be taking your supply requests from now on,” he explained and she narrowed her eyes at him.

“You’re putting your girlfriend to work?” she pouted, slipping an arm around yours and pulling you close. “Shame on you! You ought to spoil this rare blessing! You’ve been waiting long enough, haven’t you? You’re going to chase her away if you work her to the bone!”

“Candy!” he growled, obviously a little annoyed, but she just waved him away.

“Mr. Roth acts tough, but he’s got a gooey center,” she said, her bright eyes filled with mischief. “You’d better take him for all he’s worth! He’s been wanting a girlfriend for as long as anyone can remember, but never could find the right one.”

She winked at you.

“The girls and I like variety but Mr. Roth is so sentimental he can’t stand the idea of sharing. He’s always wanted one little flower to spoil. It’s so cute. You’re his first girlfriend, you know. He’s never brought another woman here. We would know if he did.”

“Oh!” you said, glancing back up to him.

You were sure he was blushing now, though you couldn’t see it.

“Jesus,” Roth grumbled, hiding his face with a clawed hand. “Aren’t you running late, Candy?”

She grinned.

“I can’t wait to tell the girls about this!” she chirped before she smooched you on the cheek and ran off.

Roth sighed, looking at you for a moment, before a thumb rose to your cheek and he rubbed away Candy’s lipstick.

“Don’t listen to her,” he grunted, turning quickly and leading you to his office. “The girls pretty much run this place and they get silly ideas in their heads. Meddlers, all of them.”

“I am I really your first girlfriend?” you asked his back as he walked into his office. “I’m not really your girlfriend, though. You said I was your pet.”

He plopped down at his desk, waving you over.

“It doesn’t matter what I call you,” he griped, grabbing you by your hips and setting you on his desk. “You’re mine.”

Your head tipped to the side.

“Why haven’t you had a girlfriend before? You’re rich and powerful. Don’t women fall all over you?”

He leaned back in his chair, letting out a tight breath.

“My kind mate once, for life,” he explained. “It’s very…serious. Most women don’t like that sort of…intensity hanging over their heads from the start.”

Your eyes widened, watching the stiff personality he’d been so carefully trying to cultivate melt in front of you.

“So you haven’t had any other lovers?” you asked.

He fiddled with the hem of your skirt, refusing to answer.

“Is that why you’re so hard on sleazy monsters?”

At that his eyes lifted to meet yours, and his thumb absently slipped over your thigh.

“Being so crass and careless is a sacrilege among my people. Breaking a soul who might be someone’s sacred mate is considered a crime punishable by death.”

You looked down at your fingers, suddenly feeling an ache in your chest. It should have been a relief, not a pain. He would get bored and let you go someday. Now you knew that for certain.

“Am I just a placeholder until your real mate comes along?” you whispered, the words slipping past your lips, though you tried so hard to keep them in.

He chuckled, lowering his head to fill your vision with his bright eyes.

“I just told you. We mate to one person only. I wouldn’t have brought you to my bedroom if I intended to have someone else.”

“Why didn’t you just say that? Why be so distant? You scared me. If you’d wanted to mate me, holding me against my will is not exactly how to start a relationship.”

At that his eyes avoided yours.

“Like I said…women tend to run when they find out we mate for life. Humans aren’t like us. Your kind have lots of different partners and you break partnerships when they no longer suit you. If I don't force you to stay with me, you might leave."

You had no idea what possessed you, but you placed a hand on his cheek and pulled his face towards you, forcing him to meet your gaze. Your fingertips sank into the soft fuzz and you liked the way it tickled your skin.

“Not all of us,” you whispered. “Some of us just want one person we can be with forever.”

“Is that what you want?” he asked.

The words left your lips on a silvery note.

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

He pulled you into his lap, curling his wings around the two of you.

“I can give you that, if you let me.”

A light giggle filled the little space for just the two of you.

“I suppose I don’t have much of a choice,” you tittered. “You don’t plan on letting me leave.”

“No,” he murmured. “But if you stayed because you wanted to it would mean a lot to me. It’s okay if you don’t feel it now. I’ll spend our lifetimes trying to convince you.”

Your head tipped against his soft chest, feeling a strange giddiness a lady shouldn’t feel towards her kidnapper, especially one who had a large collection of the teeth of the people he’d murdered in his closet.

You were fairly certain monsters had driven you to madness. None of your dramatically swaying feelings made any sense… but your “enemies” had been defeated, you’d had the best sleep you’d had in a long time in a big comfy bed, and you were wearing half a million dollars in diamonds. Objectively, your quality of life had wildly improved from the day before when you were sitting on a dirty curb clutching fifteen dollars.

For the first time, you felt his soft lips against your forehead and your head tipped up, following them. When you pressed yours against his, you felt a shudder roll through his chest, making your skin tingle. His clawed hands slipped into your hair, holding your head in place while he explored.

You felt his breath fanning your face, panting into your kiss and underneath your fingertips his heart raced, causing yours to skip as well. An arm reached behind you and you heard sundry items clatter on the floor as he laid you out on his desk.

His tongue explored your mouth, tasting like cinnamon, as his fingers clutched your cheek. Fear and anticipation muddled your thoughts. Part of you was still unsure, but the other part knew it was too late for doubts. Your body was ready to surrender, panties damp and thighs sticky.

You gasped underneath him, his wings forming a silvery cave tinted with the glow from his red eyes. You ran your fingers through the soft feathers and felt him shudder with appreciation. Notching his body between your legs, he pulled only an inch away, looking at you.

“I will keep you no matter what, but this I will not take without permission,” he murmured. “Just know, if you accept me. I won’t tolerate competition. I’ll murder anyone who dares to touch you and take their teeth.”

Your cheeks burned, blinking at him through a heady veil of pleasure, his scent carrying notes of the moonflowers decorating his home. This was the key moment. You could refuse him and go back to being his reluctant captive…or you could become his.

“Okay,” you whispered, your heart answering the question before your still unsure mind. “I…ah…I accept you.”

His lips covered yours again as he let out a needy grunt, this kiss more desperate and claiming. You felt the prick of his sharp teeth as yours slid against his, the thrill of danger sending lightening bolts up your spine. You could feel the strength in his fingers as they moved over you and the weight of his body as he pressed you into the desk.

His claws curled around the neck of your blouse and he jerked ito down, exposing the tender breasts perched in your bra. You dragged in a heavy breath tasting oddly like cinnamon, the small space under his wings suddenly feeling thick with the scent.

Your body grew hot and sensitive, each brush off his soft fuzz making your skin tingle wildly. You suddenly felt light headed and needy, your mouth watering at the taste of his tongue.

“W-what’s happening?” you gasped when he pulled back to press kisses into your neck. “I feel hot…”

His hands cupped your breast as you felt his lips agonizingly brush your sensitive skin as he spoke.

“My pheromones are binding you to me,” he hummed and your heart skipped a beat.

“What?” you hummed, pushing your breasts into his big hands for more pressure.

“My pheromones are designed to make mating more pleasurable…to make me irresistible to you.”

You gasped, but your mind was getting ever hazier as the scent wound around you. Your hips bucked into his stomach, begging for what you wanted.

“Not yet,” he purred, pulling a tender nipple into his mouth. Colors exploded behind your eyelids, feeling more pleasure flood your system than you’d ever experienced before.

You’d had enough lovers and a few good orgasms, but this blew that all out of the water like a nuclear bomb and you hadn’t even cum yet. Your back arched and you screamed as his long, agile tongue curled around your nipple.

The slight prick of his claws bit your skin as his fingers played with the other one, alternating between teasing plucks and firm rolls. The small panties you wore were soaked through and your thighs ground against his hips for more friction. Every inch of skin felt as sensitive as your clit, the fuzz all over his body feeling maddeningly good against it. Your fingertips dug into the thick collar of fur around his neck, wanting to just rub him all over you.

He let our pleased hums as grunts as your fingers couldn’t decide where they wanted to be, one moment clutching his neck, then his head, then scratching at this chest. The room filled with your desperate mewls, begging him in slurred words for his cock.

“That’s right,” he murmured on a smug chuckle. “You’re all mine, little flame. Only I can give you what you need.”

His kisses trailed down your stomach, his soft, delicate antennae caressing your skin as he moved lower. Claws shoved your skirt off your hips, exposing your panties to him and his long tongue slid up and down your slit. You heard the sound of tearing fabric and then his breath on your sensitive lips. His tongue dipped inside of you and you suddenly understood the actual length of it, easily filling your weeping pussy.

“Roth!” you gasped, fingers looking for something to clutch and finding a few odd feathers to wrap in your grip.

You heard him hum as he licked you up, making your eyes cross as the vibration drew a blooming orgasm from your core. Whimpering, with tears streaming down your cheeks you felt the agile appendage lapping up your juices, while his thumb found your clit.

He circled it slowly, making your thighs tense so tightly you thought you might pop. Pleasure zapped you like a lightening bolt, the electricity lighting up every nerve until your whole body felt like it was cumming all at once. Your head dropped to the side, drool leaking over your cheek as your eyes rolled back in your head.

You weren’t sure you could take much more. Making love had never been like this. Your mind couldn’t process what his pheromones were doing to you.

Finally, Roth couldn’t hold back anymore, standing so he loomed over you, only his red eyes visible in the darkness. His fingers slipped past your open lips, holding you you in place as you felt his thick shaft investigate your pussy. It felt a little strange, your skin so sensitive it could make out every detail. Though velvety skin still covered it’s girth, the head was more elongated than a humans, ending at a slightly sharper angle with a pronounced ridge bisecting it. Smooth bumps formed a line running vertically along the shaft and something…or some things grasped your thighs like little fingers, holding them open. Your confusion as what was holding your legs apart melted away when he snapped his hips and his cock entered you.

A ragged roar filled your ears as he bottomed out inside of your channel. You could tell by the way the fingers in your mouth flexed, he was doing his best to hold back, not to hurt you. He was still for a moment, as he gathered his resolve, but you had other ideas, sucking on his fingers lewdly, your wet tongue tracing his claws.

He bent down on top of you, fingers fleeing your hot mouth and wrapping around your neck.

“Naughty girl,” he gasped as you bucked your hips, the little nubs lining his shaft making you whimper.

You could hardly see him, but you knew he could see you and you were getting annoyed with him trying to be gentle. Pulling your tits out of your bra, you kneaded them shamelessly, pressing the flesh against the arm holding your throat and arching your back so he couldn’t avoid the dirty show.

You couldn’t hold back your victorious smirk as he let out a hungry growl and his hips started to batter your soft flesh. His eyes disappeared into the darkness as instinct overtook him, rutting you wildly. Strong fingers tightened on your throat, only ratcheting up the spice swirling through every limb like a savage tornado.

Drowning in pure bliss, hot tears poured down your cheeks, your body jerking underneath his as he pounded into you. Nonsense poured from your lips, rational thought swept away in the storm. When the sensation reached it’s peak you felt like your body might shatter into a million pieces and you welcomed the oblivion that overtook you. Body shuddering violently as you fell over the edge.

Your wet, needy cunt, clamping down on Roth’s cock so suddenly made his body respond in the way it was designed. His shaft suddenly inflated to twice it’s original girth, stretching you decadently before he cursed and you felt ropes of searing cum splash against your sucking walls.

You could hear heavy panting and it took you a moment to realize it was your own breath. Roth let out a long, groaning sigh, his body slumping on top of yours, only stopped by a strong arm bracing the desk.

His bright red eyes returned, looking somehow more entrancing than before. Everything about him seemed…more. His cinnamon, flower laced scent stuck to you and his soft fur felt luxurious. Even the sound of his ragged breaths tickled your ears in a sumptuous way.

“You’re…different,” you muttered, brain having trouble putting words together.

He let go of your throat, a thumb brushing your bottom lip as his hand clutched your cheek.

“My pheramones have soaked into your body,” he purred. “You’re mine now. I’ve marked you.”

“Oh,” you hummed, eyes slipping shut, as you felt the aftershocks of your love making roll over you.

Whatever little claspers were holding your legs retreated and as his cock slipped out of you, cum and slick splashed on the wood floor.

He scooped you into his arms, pulling you into his lap as he peppered soft kisses on your forehead.

“Are you okay?” he asked, fingers, absently stroking your hair.

“Mhmm,” you hummed. “Will it always be like that…now that you’ve marked me?”

“Yes,” he said, twirling a bit of hair around his finger. “Now that we’re bonded…I can’t control my pheremones. They…have a bit of a mind of their own and their purpose now is to reinforce the bond.”

A knock at the door sobered you a bit as you tugged your shirt back up to cover your boobs.

“Who is it?” he called, still so quiet you weren’t sure how anyone heard him.

“Vince,” said the vampire on the other side of the door.

“Is it an emergency?”

“No.”

“Go away.”

“Got it, boss.”

He tucked the bit of hair he was twirling behind your ear and smiled.

“Do you want a snack?”

Your eyes met his with all of the earnestness in the world.

“Yes. I would love that!”

He pulled out his phone and texted someone before setting you back on his desk and leaning back in his chair, looking deeply satisfied and proud of himself. You flopped over on your stomach, kicking your heels in the air and resting your chin on your arm.

“Do we have to work now?” you asked, batting your eyelashes at him.

He looked at you for a moment before answering.

“No…What do you want to do?”

“I kind of want to get to know you a little better…Since I’m bonded to you or whatever.”

“Okay,” he said, stretching his arms behind his head. “What do you want to know first?”

You blinked at him.

“Why do you have hundreds of teeth in your closet?”

663 notes · View notes

eupheme · 9 days

Text

— clean slate [into the fire, part v]

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | masterlist

cooper howard / the ghoul x f!reader

rated e - 4k

tags: dubcon, power dynamics, vault dweller!reader, bounty hunting, sex for favors, sub/dom elements, canon-typical descriptive violence and death, references to blood/gore, anti-ghoul sentiments, physical violence against reader, hurt/comfort, kissing

a/n: please mind the tags! this chapter got twice as long as the others (maybe I didn't want it to end, haha!) and there was a good break, so to keep things consistent, I am splitting it in half! both are being posted today though, so you don't have to wait 💖

Always said he did this shit for the love of the game. But this time - he thinks - it might just be personal.

(or - they took something from the Ghoul, and he’s here to collect)

The afternoon edges into night, and he tells himself each hour is the last one he'll think about you.

The Ghoul had waited for you to look back. Stock-still in the swirling dust that bit at his skin. A white-knuckled grip around the thick coil of rope.

You hadn’t.

His hand still reaches to scrubs at his neck, his jaw. To wipe you away or rub you in, he’s not sure.

It doesn't fucking matter.

He's stuck around a long time. Enough to see generations of families grow old and then die. The last few weeks are no more than a blip, in his far too-long life.

Hell - he's spent more time underground, than with you.

But something prickles at him. Lingering like a bad trip, leaving his teeth clenching and jaw aching as he finishes out the bounty.

It's messy.

It shouldn't have been. Should have been easy - but he's aching for a fight, something to take his mind off things. He's antagonistic.

Could've finished everything up from afar, but he ends up in close range. Another scar marring his chest, new splatters streaked across his dark coat.

It aches, a deep bruise as it heals.

Still only slightly dulling the itch of irritation.

I haven't lied about anything.

Didn’t last night mean anything to you?

It's sometime the next morning, after a night of a starless sky closing in around him, that he gives in.

Heading the way you went without thought, and when he does notice, he tells himself it's only because he needs more chems. That it’d be a shame to lose a supplier as good as you.

That it's easier, for both of you to stick together.

Maybe that's why he was careless. Knowing deep down, it would be easier to find a corpse later than to haul around a bounty, kicking and screaming.

The small sliver left of another man, from another life, knows he was cruel. That anger had turned him into a viper. Had always been good at striking first. Self-preservation beaten into him after two-hundred years - an old, festering wound.

He doesn’t know how to apologize anymore, but he can already think of a few ways to distract you.

Maybe you’ll forget completely, if he's thorough.

The Ghoul is faster than you are. Needs less rest, less food. Has already plotted just how far you can get in a day. Your footprints faded as packed earth leads to woods, but you’re not the type to wander, and there's only a few settlements in the miles ahead.

Halfway to his destination, when his eyes snag on a patch of rocks. A broken bits of branches on the trees just before it. There's something smeared across the stone - tasting like iron, when the tip of a finger brings it to his tongue.

Something ancient twists in his stomach, awakening from a slumber.

Backing up, he's able to piece together the struggle. Seeing the flattened grass, the heavy boot prints, melding with the smaller ones.

Finding a body, fallen off to the side - angling off the rock with the stain. Something familiar about the look of him.

A boot sinks into their side, rolling them over. A curl of a lip - he recognizes them. One of the two bounty hunters they’d fun into.

He had hated their eyes on you when they blew through that town.

Something had prickled at him then, but he had ignored it. A grit of his jaw - should’ve dealt with both of them.

There’s a hole in their head - red spilling down their neck, still tacky to the touch. A clean, close shot. His finger sinks in the wound, the same size as your 10mm.

"Good girl." The Ghoul murmurs.

The slightest ease of the knot in his chest.

A crunch of glass beneath his feet, the glint of the sun catching the needle. Another shape he knows well - a syringe. Probably a tranquilizer.

Three meeting one, with three leaving. The dead weight of you weighing down their steps, the footprints pressing heavily into the earth.

Easy enough for him to follow, as he slings his gun free.

Always said he did this shit for the love of the game.

But this time - he thinks - it might just be personal.

Despite being back among faces you knew, fear had been your only companion since the meeting in the forest.

Hazy memories flicker through your mind. Being dragged, snippets of light and the heat of a fire. The bright sear of dawn, and the dry embrace of the desert again.

Waking to the feeling of your arms being wrenched above your head. Coming to, hissing and spitting. Nails catching the face of one of them - Baine, you think - his fist cracking down hard against your cheek in retaliation.

Leaving you dazed, as your wrists were caught again - bound in place. A cruel curl of a lip, as they examined you like a brahmin.

“You look like a Wastelander”. It’s spit out, a wet mark against the floor, “We’ll get you back where you belong soon enough.”

You’re not sure how much time has passed. A day, maybe. Hunger gnaws at you - only a small sliver of comfort in the dried meat and fruit tossed your way.

Axton, the head of the Reclaimers - those who were tasked with bringing people back - had grown up with you. At one time, was perhaps even more than that. A distant relation of the current Overseers, his blood too thinned out to be of use - but even he won’t look you in the eye.

You both know how this will go, when you get back home.

Hope drains from you, with each hour. Eating away at the little flicker of hope in your chest, wrapped tightly around your heart.

Maybe he’d show.

But despair clouded your thoughts, soon after.

“You get hurt doing some stupid shit, and I’m leavin’ you behind.”

“You're a goddamn fool if you think I hadn’t been planning on turnin' you in the first chance I get."

Maybe he’d been truthful all along, and you hadn’t listened. Read into all those small moments, weaving them together until they had made something tangible.

The looks, stolen breaths and almost-careful touches. All fleeting, but you had caught them. Holding them close to your heart.

But life isn’t like the holotapes you grew up, back when everything felt safe.

There aren’t cowboys anymore. No heroes on horses - with their silver spurs and a shining, golden badge.

No one was coming for you.

The footprints die out, as the bleached trees grow thin.

Tall grass to packed dirt, dried by the sun. Rolling hills and then mountains, scraping against the horizon. The dipping sun casts him in a red light that bleeds to black at his ankles, his shadow stretching back long and lean behind him.

But these roads aren't wholly unknown to him.

Spent time blowing through Junktown and The Hub, a couple dozen miles away. The memory hazy, but there weren't too many places folk could stay, once the sun went down and everything wild and unruly came crawling out.

A feeling in his gut has him stopping two miles down the road. A half-dug quarry, long abandoned even before the world went to hell. Threadbare railings and platforms held together with spit and a prayer, framing the rusted building that cuts into the stone walls.

The tip of his boot taps a loose rock, sending it off the edge. Head cocked as he thinks, until he hears the faintest clatter a hundred feet below.

Two-hundred years ago, he had stood on a ledge much like this. Valley of the Gun. The final shootout had his guns lost in the dust. Fist-fighting with the leader of the gang, until they both near tumbled off the edge together.

Honorable, in the way he had caught the man's hand. Tried to haul him up, but had to let go when a knife was pulled - keeping him the hero. A satisfying death that wasn't his fault, a way to keep his conscience.

All movie tricks. Angles and the implication of falling, as the camera focused on his face that swam with regret.

Comin' after a girl then, too.

Thinks that's why the old memory has loosened in his mind.

Funny how things can change, but the bones remain. How he's still drawn back to life he's left far behind. Even if his conscience was buried, a long time ago.

Some things linger. He could go down. Take one of those ladders, work his way through the tunnels that are sure to wind through the limestone, and up through the back.

But he's never much liked being underground.

Another second of considering, before he's heading for the front door.

He used to like a script, but that was back in the day when the worst thing that could happen was a box-office bomb, not the hell he's been dragged through.

A half-cocked plan already forming. Twisting that connection between them, his own abandoned contract. Get him through the front door and to the man in charge at least, and that might be all he needs. Let years of instinct take over, after that.

Had already gotten a good look at a couple of them, when he first picked up the bounty. It had made him curious - why there was so much fuss, over so small a thing. Easy caps, he decided, when he had gotten a look at you.

Picking up that their brutality had been learned from sharpening their teeth against a silver spoon. Hardy - compared to some Wastelanders - with their filling meals and their pristine weapons.

But they sure as hell don't have the same grit as one.

Not much of anything, really, when compared to him.

The door opens with the push of his shoulder. Hand beneath the swirl of his coat, finger already fixed on the trigger. Not far in until he’s running into one of them - another Vaultie.

The man startles, wide-eyed when he sees him. Green, in his shades of blue and yellow.

“Here ‘bout a job.” The Ghoul keeps his voice light, in spite of everything.

Knows they’re keeping you alive for someone else, as much as that makes his jaw clench. No need to go rushing in just yet.

A flicker of recognition, as the man frowns, “How’d you find us?”

His head tilts, that smooth drawl slipping in, “Wouldn’t be much of a Bounty Hunter if I couldn’t, now, would I?”

The Vault Dweller’s eyes are fixed on his face, that familiar look of fear and disgust - dipping down to the pocket of his nose, the curling smile of yellowed teeth.

It’s strange how foreign it feels, after the hours spent with you looking at him so differently.

Maybe he’d been a fool, after all.

Maybe it’s more than your tight cunt that he wants to bury himself in, to claim. Something soft, bitten back behind his teeth. Something he doesn’t even know if he has a name for, anymore.

Something he didn’t know he needed , until he had chased both it and you away.

“We’ve already got her.” The man manages, after thinking it over, “Don’t think we need your services anymore.”

There’s another flash of teeth at the confirmation.

“Agreement was to find her. And who do you think rustled her up?” His brow lifts, “Would’ve been half-way to New Reno by now, if I hadn’t herded her your way.”

That sharp edge creeping in, “Think my time’s worth a little somethin ’. Don’t you?”

It’s easy for the guard to leave that decision to someone else. Standing aside, to let him pass.

“Thank you kindly.” The Ghoul tips his hat, a swirl of his coat as he passes.

Taking just enough steps past them, waiting until the man’s back turns. Spinning on his heel, after.

The knife glints between his fingers as he twirls it. A hand pressing over the Vault Dweller’s mouth, before the blade sinks into their neck.

Muffling the dying gurgle. A grunt as the Ghoul yanks the blade free - leaving the body crumpled in the shadows, as he winds deeper.

One down.

Hold on , he thinks.

I’m coming.

His whistle echoes in the chamber.

Half old-world - a long-forgotten leitmotif that fuses with new notes of his own. A part to play until he doesn't, letting the Ghoul guide him.

Down the half-lit hallway, the lights flickering overhead from the ancient generator. Everything picked clean like he figured it would be - every last piece of scrap ferreted away, leaving only dusty crates behind.

Still playing the part, as the low murmur of voices grows louder. Ears pricking up, listening for hers. Picking out at least three or four others from the layered hum.

A sneer, at the number. He’s faced worse odds. It’s in his favor really - take out as many fuckers as he can. Send bits and pieces of them back.

His intentions masked, an old habit, by the time he enters the warehouse. A wide steel grate floor, opening up to a second level below, scattered with old machinery.

There’s a table. Cards littering the top - a luxury brought from the Vault, as they bet using caps. Couple Vault Dwellers and that Wasteland son of a bitch from the town. Four total, one lounging on a sleeping pack as if it’s just another night, and they weren’t bringing you to your death.

It rankles him, teeth set on edge.

A scrape of chair legs on the floor, at the drawling condescension of his voice.

“Ain’t y’all a little old for a sleepover?”

Hands rest on holsters, but they don’t draw. The Ghoul focuses on one - a face he recognizes, the one who had sought him out.

The man’s legs spread, as if he’s got something worthwhile between them. The leader of this whole operation. Axton , or some shit like that - it hadn’t been worth his time to remember.

“Believe you fellas got somethin’ of mine.” The Ghoul drawls, “I’m here to collect.”

There’s a pause at that.

One of them, a right-hand man by the look of their padded leather armor - not a scratch on it - scowls. A face that tells another story. Pink marks start at their cheek, jagged lines that end at a thick neck.

His eyes narrow at that, lip curling. A flicker of unease in his belly - fingers clenching where they rest against his hips, close enough to draw.

“You’re too late for payment, ghoul. Heard you were dragging your feet.” His head tilts, towards the Wastelander who had gone still, “We went and got her ourselves.”

The Ghoul grins - a fierce thing, with a flash of teeth. A lilt, in his voice.

“Now, what makes you think I’m here for caps?”

It gives them pause. His question - the prospect of a ghoul showing up, unannounced.

“What else you here for?” Another grunts - eyes already back on his cards, a comfort in their numbers.

“Think you know.”

“The girl?” Atmos laughs, and the sound is cruel, “Heard she split from you. Caught her after.”

A tilt of his head towards the armored man and the Wastelander. Taunting then, “Must not be that good, if you let her slip away. What, she get tired of looking at your ugly mug?”

If they only knew the kind of things he’d done to you. What you had done to him, right back.

The Ghoul is only half-paying attention. Sticks and stones, all their insults falling on deaf ears. Too busy with eyes that flick over the top floor. Then down to the ground below.

Something flipping inside his guts, when he sees it. Cast in shadow near the base of the stairs, but his eyesight is keener than it’s ever been.

Arms bound, the knot looped around the hook of an overturned crane. A raw, split mark - swollen and bruised flesh - on the curve of a smooth cheek. Just above where your teeth cut into a piece of cloth, tied tightly around to gag you.

A tilt of your head, and then your eyes are meeting his. Round and blank with fear. Widening, when you see him.

His girl.

Muscles string tight, eyes narrowed as his teeth clench. You’d paid for what you did, and he’d be there to return the favor.

His gaze snaps back, and focuses. Whatever plan he had been working up burns, turning to ash.

“Always heard that beauty was in the eye of the beholder.” The Ghoul’s tone is conversational - although his blood boils, scalding hot, “But if you wanna see an ugly fucker , well… you best look right there.”

There’s a nod of his head, towards the man in charge. As if on cue, their heads twist to look - just as he draws, and then fires.

The Vault Dweller’s head caves in. Gore splattering against the blue of his suit. Barely a breath before his finger is tugging again, a bullet going through the chest of a second.

Always too goddamn slow.

Hesitant to take a life, even with their bravado.

Something that molted from his skin with the rest of him, over a century ago. He’s already reaching for the gun holstered at his shoulder before return shots are fired.

He can feel the flicker of something miss him, before he’s charging. Ducking under the swing of a knife, the muzzle pressed against ribs.

A hoarse shout that is drawn out by the ringing blast. The knife caught and sent spinning into the back of the Wastelander, heading towards the door.

Flinching, as something slams into his shoulder, just shy of his collarbone, and out the other side. The turn of a head - an eye fixed on the last man standing.

Padded armor won’t do much to stop him.

“That your handiwork?” The Ghoul growls, as his head tips towards you.

The man's finger twitches but he’s faster - a shot going into the meat of their thigh. Downing them as they scream, as the Ghoul saunters over to tug the hilt from where he’s buried it in the Wastlander’s back.

It glints a gleaming red in the light, as he adjusts his grip. Eyeing the scripted tattoos that cross over the man’s knuckles - as they grip at their thigh, near-tenderized from the blast.

Ones that had struck you. Could send them back, spelling out something obscene. A rough laugh at the thought.

He’s got someone waiting for him. But, he knows from experience…

That this won’t take too long.

In the hours since you parted, it’s only now that you can breathe.

For a long moment, you hadn’t dared believe. Eyes drawn to the noise above - the loud pitch of voices.

One of them - rough and low - draws your attention. Everything dark from your angle, an ache as you had tried to see.

Knowing that shadow. The brim of his hat.

The burn of his eyes, when they fixed on you. You could feel the fury in them, even from here. A muted sound of desperation from behind your gag, as you watched.

The Ghoul shoots first - the second his eyes pull away, and it’s all over in a matter of moments.

Your eyes closing at the sound of gunfire, of screaming - until it finally cuts short. Leaving the warehouse eerily silent, except for the clicking of spurs against metal.

He crouches in front of you, now - and you can’t help the whine. So much trapped behind the thick binding of cloth. All you could do is tug at your bound wrists - neck craning as you tried to watch from below.

A force of nature. Bared teeth a quick draw. Again you’re forced to admit to yourself how lucky you were to still be standing, after your first meeting.

He had blown through them like it was nothing.

“Hold on a minute, honey.” That low tone is familiar, calming you as his fingers hook around the cloth. Leaving a smear of red against your jaw as he tugs the gag free - shucking his gloves after.

“Are you hurt?” It comes out ragged. Tongue heavy in your mouth, throat dry. Eyes scanning the dark leather of his coat - all that red , smeared across it, “Thought you got hit.”

He barks out a laugh, your chin trapped between thumb and forefinger, “That’s what you’re worried about?”

Something dark swirling across his features, as he tilts your head towards the light. His thumb pressing at the edge of your bruise, denting skin.

“They got you good, didn’t they?” He murmurs, and you smile through a wince, at the dull ache of pain.

“You got them.”

“Sure did,” It’s distracted, as he cuts at the binds, next. The rope fraying and then splitting, an ache in your shoulders when your arms finally lower.

“Fuckin’ amateurs.” He mutters again, watching as you wince at the rubbed-raw skin at your wrists. The corners of his lips tipped down, lost in thought.

“Thought you would’ve liked seeing me all tied up.” It’s a weak thing. An attempt at humor, the ache in your heart at seeing him cut by the acidity of your last meeting.

He blinks. Comes back to himself, a hoarse hum of amusement.

“Only when I’m doing it, sweetheart.” The Ghoul’s eyes meet yours then, a hint of a smirk with the tilt of his head.

“Can think of a much better way of gagging you, too.”

There’s almost a softness to his tone. Just barely there, tinting the rough edges. Something like hope flutters - delicate, behind your ribs.

“You… you came, for me.” You need the clarification. To hear him say it. That this isn’t some ruse, a way to take you directly to the source, “You’re not-”

There’s a sigh, as he fixes you with a long look. His head tipping towards the platform above, a lazy flick of his finger towards an arm that dangles from the ledge.

“Well that there man’s the one I got your contract from,” The Ghoul drawls, “Said I was to return what belonged to somebody else.”

Those eyes fixing on you again, “Seein’ as you’re not , and seein’ as that man is now indisposed…”

His words trail off - and you can’t help the small smile, as he finishes.

“I’m thinkin we’re square.”

The look you give him is soft. Admiring. You don’t know how he tracked you down, but he did.

“You saved me.” It’s hushed, and at your tone his eyes pull from you.

Fixing somewhere low, off to the side, as he crouches. Uncomfortable with the way you look at him. How you see him. Not used to it, not after so many years.

You’re not able to resist.

Muscles stringing stiff when you lean forward. Lips pressed against the leather of his cheek, fingers ghosting against his jaw.

A huff then, teeth biting into his tongue with the shake of a head. His eyes dark, as you pull back, hovering.

“Darlin’ if you’re going to be stealin’ a kiss, you best be doin’ it properly.” The Ghoul rasps, eyes flicking down to your mouth.

His head tips towards yours, but it’s your that meets his first. A little sound in your throat as your lips slot against his. Warm and insistent as his knees drop to press into the cement floor.

Tugging at you, as your fingers grasp at his collar. A hungry lick of his tongue against the seam of your lips as you whine, crushing your chest to his.

His fingers at your neck, your jaw. Angling your head, a rough groan as you part for him. Turning ravenous - wandering hands as your tongue slips against his. Panting breaths and a grinding of hips when he yanks you closer.

“How many were there?” He hums, as you try to sneak a ragged breath.

The curve of a smile when you try to ignore him, a click of his tongue.

“I dunno,” Your mind is too foggy. Too focused on the hands that trace against your waist, “Four? No… maybe five?”

“You don’t seem too sure, sweetheart.” He does smile then, at the little mark between your eyebrows. Untangling himself - a hand reaching down to adjust himself, as he stands.

“As much as I’d like to take you right here,” He husks, eyes dragging over you, “The last thing I need is a bullet in the ass.”

A tilt of his head, towards the open floor.

“Come on, cowpoke. Let’s do a sweep.”

the last (final, for real this time) part will be up in just a little bit! 💖 thank you so much for reading - this series has become so much to me, and every ask or comment or tag or reblog has absolutely meant the world 💕

#please mind the tags!#cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #fallout smut #fallout tv series #fallout #cooper howard

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plleeeepppyyyy · 1 year

Text

being wally’s newest friend!

(i love this arg and hopefully it gets more pickup in the near future!! especially love wally, silly little guy.)

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

(i love this arg and hopefully it gets more pickup!! especially love wally, silly little guy.)

basically you moved into the neighborhood and wally takes notice. and is infatuated.

warnings,, wally has some tendencies of being a yandere?? possessiveness, gaslighting, possible love-bombing, kidnapping. house pretty much indulges on wally’s behavior. i actually don’t have much about house in this writing, sorry!!.,,(;´༎ຶٹ༎ຶ`) also a little short,,?

reader is g/n. (gender neutral)

what glances see first. :)

so! you’re the new neighbor, no matter how new you are, as said, you’re still an important denizen. pretty much everyone’s gotta be talkin about you, the first one to greet you though is wally, ofc. ♡︎

at first he seems a bit zoned out? chilled out? by the tone of his usual voice and his facial expression,, you probably think he’s zooted up. but nope, that’s just how he is. he’s pretty friendly when it comes to you, he greets you, tells you all about the neighborhood, and is overall hopeful.

a good charmer too, despite his tone at first and such that made you doubt it, there’s still a way to find this man charming. i mean cmon,, look at his fashion sense, that laidback expression, he definitely looks like he has it all figured out. if you want, he’d gladly show you around the neighborhood. helping you socialize with your new neighbors, despite his short answers and such, he’s still helpful.

after this good greeting, you seem him around all of the time. with barnaby, julie, or just anyone. it could take a bit before you guys get talking normally too, whether you have trouble taking at times or whatnot. you guys get on fine, he’s a pretty likable person.

little did you know, he was the one staring mostly.

___

the friendship within, ❤︎︎

when you guys are pretty good friends, he tends to show you his paintings, and art. which are impressive and cute, he offers to draw with you. and definitely likes your company, he also shows you, “house”! which is an actual legit living object, it’s a bit weird. but, ignoring that aside,,. it’s a swell time hanging around with wally. especially if you got barnaby, or one of the others around. it creates a good dynamic.

he likes hanging around with you all of the time, whether it’s doing the most or just sitting around with you. wally really enjoys the simplicity of things, especially if it’s with you.

wally is overall a nice and sweet guy to you, charming at times. he’s definitely the guy to have around, whenever you have issues and need some assistance, he’s gladly ready to help! whether it’d be a simple thing like, deciding an outfit, he’ll help you out. (listen to this man with fashion sense, he’s got a hella good one. (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ )

he’s mostly nice all of the time, but sometimes he does get a bit blunt at times. usually to others or you, which he quickly takes back. it’s strange.. but friendship with wally is worth it!

he’s an interesting little fella to have around.

the strange thing about this.

___

around later into your guys’ friendship, you take notice of how wally is getting a bit clingier? he definitely hangs around you more, definitely more touchy. like, before he sometimes puts an arm around you, but barely he would be touching you. now though, he always finds a way to touch you. (not like that ofc,,)

he for sure takes you around and brings you around his house more, in some way he sorta isolates you from the other. he insists on you being around him 24/7.

like cmon, forget those other guys,, we can have fun on our own, together.

is what he would definitely say, he’s a bit passive aggressive when it comes to others. it should only be you and him hanging out, house insists! and house knows most, so why won’t you just stay around him?

during this period, he for sure compliments you more. like, how you’re the most to him, you’re great at drawing, doing this, that.. of course he would hype his best friend up!

he tends to give you little trinkets too. whether it’s stuff he makes, or anything he finds and just thinks, “yep, they would love this, i want them to have this.”

he feels a bit threatened whenever he sees you hanging around anyone, it doesn’t matter if it’s barnaby, frank, eddie, he just doesn’t like it when his bff isn’t paying attention to him! (ง'̀-'́)ง

sometimes he rants to house about how you don’t pay attention to him enough, and house said some good advice. so of course, he would listen to house. he starts giving you stuff, showering you in compliments, even though, it still doesn’t work.

he just adores you too much! don’t you adore him too?

why won’t you just stay with him? why can’t you just focus all on him.

he does it for you, so why can’t you the same?

he just wants to be your bestest friend ever.

____

stay with him. ♥︎

this period of your relationship definitely heightens.

wally has this great idea, from house’s help ofc. that you should live with the two of them, like roommates! just without you finding out. (yeah he kidnaps you, basically.. uh)

once you wake up, he definitely is happy. and reassures you, that you’ll be with him 24/7 now, it’s like a forever sleep over, ain’t that sweet? even if you’re freaking out, he’s patient, it must be because you’re excited!

he can’t just stay in this house alone, he needs you. he assures you that he’ll always be with you.

he’s not so sure to let you out of the house though, can’t have his bff leave and run. nor does he want you lonely, so he barely leaves the house too. when he does go out, he assures everyone that you’re just sick, sad, or need some comfort.

that’s what friends do, they’re there for each other. so, he makes sure everyone doesn’t worry that much for you. after all, you’re in good hands with wally!

that’s what at least they think, wally doesn’t give you much free will. unless he’s there ofc, best friends have to do everything together.

he still showers you in compliments and gives you stuff, but he does reach limits. if you’re too angry or crabby with him, he does have to make sure you’re not anymore!

whether that’d be locking you in a room, so you can just let it all out. or just keeping you near him, but tied up. just so you don’t hurt yourself on accident.

if you’re crying, he won’t let you be. he’ll hold you, usher and coo to you that you’re fine, he’s here. he’ll never leave.

but that’s the thing, he never will. even if you’re in the other room, the looming thing that hovers you is that he’s just waiting for you. he won’t let you go. and that’s the scariest thing possible.

so, you just have to endure the near thought of him by you everyday now. even if you don’t see him, you’ll hear him talk to house, or sing. you can’t escape, anything you do, he’ll stay.

but that’s the charm, no matter what wally will be there for you. you’re his dearest friend, well besides house. he can’t just abandon you, your his and he’s yours. the bestest friends forever, even if the others did find out wally’s true intentions, it’s not like they can’t stop him. right?

well, they’re far from that.

if he’s stuck here; he might as well be stuck here with you.

his dearest friend, the one he truly loves and cherishes.

he loves you, takes care of you, so,

why won’t you just stay for him?

if he would do it, you’d do it too,

wouldn’t you? ❤︎︎

_________________

literally this is my first time writing on here, so sorry if it’s a bit weird! also first time writing wally,, soooo yeah again sorry if he seems out of touch or smth. (╥_╥)

but this was really fun to write, i literally love this arg and this silly funky dude. i might write more for this fandom, since i love it, def need some ideas.

arg by _PartyCoffin_ on twitter and tumblr!!

(pls support them and this arg, it’s underrated as of now at least,,)

#welcome home #wally darling #wally darling x reader #platonic #with hints of some infatuation?#yandere #welcome home arg

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lovelybucky1 · 7 months

Text

Smile for the Camera

Kinktober Day 6- Pegging

warnings: AFAB!reader, pegging, sex tape, feminization kink, dom/sub dynamics, breeding kink in a roleplay setting, sex toys, mentions of exhibitionism, 18+ minors dni

kinktober masterlist

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Being as big of a film buff as Neil is, he’s always wanted to make his own movies. He’s never been good at coming up with stories and he’s a terrible writer, so he never made it very far in that aspect. He has found that the unscripted, off the cuff types of movies are more his speed. Those movies just happen to be porn.

It didn’t take much convincing to get you on board with filming yourselves having sex. You trust Neil with your life, and you think it’d be fun to watch it back, seeing his face while you fucked him.

When you have sex, you’re pretty much always dominant. Weather it’s a dom/sub scene or just regular old sex, you call the shots and Neil listens to your directions. He’s a good boy like that.

Since he proposed the idea, you and Neil have made six film, all with varying scenes. Tonight's scene is something you have done together in private, but never on camera.

The camera is set up on a tripod at the foot of the bed while you and Neil face it. He is on his knees and elbows, back arched like a good boy as you hit it from the back.

You started off slow and built up the pace, just how he likes, and now you're fucking him roughly. Your hips slap against his ass, filling the room with clapping. With each thrust, Neil makes a punched-out little moan.

"Talk to me, baby. How's that feel?" you ask.

"So- fuck- so good," he says, voice high pitched with pleasure.

"This is how we should always fuck," you say as you grab his hips tightly. "You know I do it better."

"Fuck me so good," he moans.

Neil's cock bobs between his legs, useless and untouched as it dribbles precum onto the bedspread. While you can't see his face right now, you've fucked him enough to have a pretty good image of his pinched expression in your mind.

Neither of you are any good at acting, but you like to throw in some dirty talk to spice up the video- and because Neil loves it.

"You take my dick so fuckin' well, baby. Your little pussy is gripping me. You love my dick that much, huh? You don't wanna let it go?"

Instead of answering you, Neil can only whine. He reaches between his legs and grabs his dick to find that it's already wet with his arousal.

Your strap on is bigger than Neil's dick, a fact that is as humiliating to him as it is hot. You did have a smaller one that was comparable in size to Neil, but he complained that it wasn't enough. Your boyfriend is a little size queen, and now whenever you stuff him full of your cock, he's reminded of what he lacks.

You reach forward to twist your fingers in Neil's hair and pull his head off the mattress. You force him to look straight at the camera, showing off his undoubtedly fucked-out expression.

"Blow a kiss to the people at home, baby," you instruct. There isn't actually anyone at home; the two of you are the only ones who will ever watch this. The fantasy of an audience is enough to get Neil going, however.

"Maybe I'll hide this tape on the shelf at the video store. Bet the pervs in the porno section will never expect to see the store owner getting fucked in the ass by his girlfriend," you laugh.

You let Neil's head fall back on the mattress and you drag your nails down his spine, making his back arch. He's so sensitive to your touch, especially on his back and sides where he's ticklish.

You wrap your arm around his waist and drape yourself over his back to rut into him deeply. From the pitch of his moans alone you can tell that Neil is close. He jerks his cock roughly, but you don't care enough to chastise him for getting himself off. You want to see him cum on your cock.

"I'm gonna cum in you, baby. Want me to fill you up?"

"Yes, yes!" he whines.

"Yeah," you say into his ear. "Gonna knock you up. You're gonna be a mommy. You want that, Neil? You want my cum bad enough?"

He nods with his forehead pressed against the mattress. One day you’ll get a strap on that actually cums, but for now you’ll just have to play pretend.

“Cum in my dick, Neil. Make that pussy cream all over me.”

Like the good boy he does, he clenches around your length and jerks himself roughly to completion. He cums all over his fist and the bed with a strangled moan.

“Good fucking boy,” you whisper against his neck.

He falls limp onto the bed and you remain on his back while you both catch your breath. Neil’s breathing is shaky and erratic as he comes down from his high and for a moment you wonder if he needs his inhaler.

“Thank you,” he breathes out.

You press a kiss to his neck before slowly pulling out of him. You spread his cheeks to look at his hole and trace the rim with your finger.

“Can you turn around for me, baby? I want to show everyone your wrecked little pussy.”

Neil nods weakly and sits up on his knees to turn around. He bends back over and allows you to keep him spread. His hole winks, clenching around nothing.

“Is it messy?” he asks. He’s not even playing it up for the scene, he’s just that much of a slut.

“You’re ruined, honey.”

“Good,” he says.

With a smile and a gentle pat to his hip, you get off the bed and shut off the camera.

#neil lewis #neil lewis x reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #neil lewis smut #watching the detectives #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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theharddeck · 1 year

Text

can't unfeel that // Jake Seresin x fem!reader

pairing: hangman x reader (no y/n)

synopsis: jake and his FWB are going strong, totally not developing feelings, totally unaffected and happily still in friends territory...in completely unrelated news, Jake discovers a breeding kink

word count: 8k of smut interspersed with feelings

A/N: This fic is a follow up to kinda might, sorta like, love you a little bit; it’s not necessary to read that first, but it is the dynamic (if you haven’t read it, that’s where Jake discovers choking so it’s a fun time) (also the title is another line from the same song). Thank you to @gigisimsonmars for the inspo and beta-ing, and @laracrofted and @bradshawsbitch for opinions, moral support, and straight up coaching!! 💙

Warnings: 18+ explicit content, minors DNI explicit PiV, unprotected sex, non negotiated breeding kink—friendly reminder this is a work of FICTION oh my god use protection and communicate explicitly with your partner beforehand please please please— f!receiving oral sex, hint on condescension, denied/delayed orgasm, overstimulation…if none of that phases you, there’s also swearing.

This was friend behavior; friends totally go grocery shopping together.

It definitely wasn’t a big deal that you and Jake were at a Whole Foods, him looking for some kind of weird protein powder while you picked through cartons of blackberries.

It was absolutely casual that he’d moved into a small house off base, and you were spending the night more often than not.

Your friends with benefits situation was continuing as expected, and the domesticity of it all was not, in any way whatsoever, throwing you off.

You wrinkled your nose at your reflection in the mirrors over the produce section, wondering who you were convincing. In the mirrors, you saw a man with a child on his hip come up to peruse the bell pepper section, and you stepped aside to give them more room.

“I’m so sorry to bother, but would you mind?”

You were surprised when the man spoke to you, and you turned to see him sheepishly looking between the rows of bell peppers, and the toddler who wouldn’t let go of her father, her lower lip quivering dangerously each time he readjusted his grip to reach for some vegetables.

“Of course,” you said, pulling down a produce bag. “What can I grab for you?”

“Actually,” the man shifted the child on his hip, “could you just take her for a minute? My wife sent this massive list and I have like a dozen things I need to get, and it’d just be faster…”

“Oh,” you said, looking at the girl who looked dubiously back at you, trying not to read gender roles and expectations into someone just asking for help. “If it’ll help, sure.”

“Thank you so much,” the man sighed in relief, handing over the child with little fanfare. The kid looked at you suspiciously, and you settled her onto your hip, not giving her a chance to second guess the arrangement. The man moved quickly down the aisle, pulling out a list to consult and grabbing different vegetables, as you narrated to the child, hoping the steady flow of information would be enough to offset the fact that she was being held by a stranger.

“Did you know,” you told her quietly, “that Brussels sprouts grow on stalks, like almonds? They look like little cabbages, and they’re technically related, I think, but they don’t come out of the ground like that. The pattern they grow in is actually called helical—which I’ve never said aloud until this moment, but it’s the same base word as helix, so I hope I got it right—around the stalk…”

You rambled on as the father continued to dart up and down the aisle, coming back occasionally to drop the bagged produce into the trolley. You heard a familiar footstep on the linoleum, and turned both you and the child towards it.

“And that man over there,” you told her, smiling conspiratorially as Jake rounded the corner, his boots giving a distinctive cadence to his step, “didn’t believe me when I told him it’s actually Brussels sprouts, with an ‘s’ at the end.”

Jake’s face went on a journey when he found you, then registered that you were holding an unfamiliar child, and his eyes slid over to the father running frantically up and down the aisle. A strange expression settled on his face when he looked back at you, almost frowning, as he walked closer to you.

“It’s not his fault,” you continued to the toddler, who was watching Jake with open fascination as he approached. “He’s a cretin whose unpopular vegetable of choice is an asparagus.”

“Ha ha,” Jake deadpanned as he stepped beside you, looking between you and the child with that same unfamiliar expression on his face. “What’s this?”

The father chose that moment to reappear, dropping a mesh bag of yellow onions, a carton of fingerling potatoes, a bundle of scallions, and a couple heads of garlic into the trolley, and nodding at Jake before turning back to you.

“Honestly, you’re a lifesaver,” he thanked you fervently, reaching for his kid. She went without complaint, and you briefly envied her unflappability, before you were preoccupied by other things.

Things like Jake stepping way into your personal space, and leaning forward to brush a kiss on your cheek. You shivered, surprised by the contact, but Jake stared intently at the man’s retreating figure, juggling his daughter and the trolley, either unaware of or unbothered by the heavy gaze following him.

“What was that?” you asked him, as soon as the man finally rounded the corner. Jake’s nose wrinkled, before he shook his head and stepped out of your personal space. He wasn’t looking at you, but held out the shopping basket towards you, showing a brown envelope labeled Organic Pea Protein on top of the groceries you’d already picked out.

“I found the powder,” he said, his voice level, and you weren’t sure if you were crazy or if he was suppressing. But Jake didn’t look like he was going to divulge any additional information, so you reached behind you haphazardly, grabbing the first carton of berries your fingers closed on.

“And I’ve got the berries,” you announced. You checked your selection as you dropped it into the basket, mentally grimacing when you saw you’d picked blueberries.

“You hate blueberries,” Jake said, frowning slightly.

“Sure do,” you muttered, looking at them, before pasting a smile on your face to look back at Jake. “But we’ve committed at this point. Anything else we need?”

Jake looked at you for a long moment, then shook his head tersely. “Uh, no. No, let’s go.”

You were both quiet as you stood in line to check out, making cordial conversation with the cashier, and then fading out as you carried the paper grocery bags out to the truck. The silence was almost disconcerting, but Jake didn’t seem upset, just like he was focusing intently on something, you weren’t sure what. You were loading the groceries into the backseat behind the passenger door when you realized Jake wasn’t opposite you, and that his bags had already been loaded. You were looking around for him when strong hands closed around your waist, and Jake pulled you to him, closing the door in front of you, before pressing you against the side of his truck. You expected him to turn you to face him, but you braced yourself against the truck when he didn’t, his broad body caging you against the door.

“Jake?” you asked softly, unsure what he needed, or was looking for, knowing that sometimes it was easier for him to feel you than to tell you. You could feel him drawing in slow breaths from the way his chest expanded against your back, and his hips pressed slightly forward at your soft question.

“Just a sec,” he said gruffly, his voice muffled as he turned his face into your hair. He wasn’t kissing and he wasn’t nuzzling; it just felt like he was grounding himself by touching you, and you knew that, despite trying to convince yourself otherwise by the bell peppers, your heart was in trouble. Because not only only did you not mind, you wish he’d let you do this more.

You nodded, sliding your hand up the side of the truck so you could rest your face on the back of it, while you waited for him. Jake drew in a couple more breaths, and then his hands on your waist loosened, as he turned you to face him.

You went easily, arms dropping from the truck to his shoulders, hoping if your presence had steadied him, your touch could do the same. His eyes were stormy, the green of them clouded over by something complicated, something messy, and your hand snuck up from his shoulder to the back of his head, pulling his face down to you. You didn’t kiss him, but you watched his eyes slide closed as you pressed his forehead to yours, and his shoulders dropped slightly.

“Want to tell me about it?” you asked quietly.

He didn’t say anything, but you felt him shake his head, his hair scratching your forehead from where it was trapped between you.

“Want to get out of here?” you asked instead, and this time felt him nod, causing something like pride to well up in your chest, relieved that he’d trust you enough to be able to voice what he wanted.

“Okay, then,” you said, gently as you could, “ let’s go.”

Again, Jake nodded, and you felt his hands tighten on your waist.

“When we get home,” he said, his voice rough, “I’m unloading the groceries. You’re going straight to my bed, changing out of this, and into my old Staubach tshirt.”

Jake didn’t phrase it like a question, but you knew he was asking it anyway, so you nodded. You felt him exhale a long breath against your cheek, like relief, and then he released you suddenly, like he had to do it at once or he wouldn’t at all.

He stepped away from you to open the passenger door, made sure your feet were tucked in before shutting it, then crossed in front of the truck quickly, pulling the truck out of the lot before his word choice snagged in your mind—home.

You looked at Jake out of the corner of your eye and he wove the truck in and out of traffic. His eyes were squinted against the bright sunlight, but the expression on his face was unfamiliar to you. His jaw was clenched, and his hands were tight on the steering wheel, and when one dropped to the stick to shift gears, the movement was terse, precise. You wanted to be a more altruistic person, you did, but realistically, something warmed deep in your stomach as you anticipated what that meant for when you got home.

When he pulled into the driveway, Jake was out of truck before it’d fully stopped, yanking open your door and turning you to face him, on the edge of the seat. You fumbled to undo your safety belt as his hand on the back of your neck drew your mouth to his, his lips claiming yours in a hungry kiss.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you reached a hand up to his jawline to steady yourself as he pressed you back against the seat. He kissed you hard, heavy, and you knew there was something he was saying that he wasn’t telling you, but you couldn’t quite read it off his lips. His mouth moved hungrily over yours, then he pulled himself back, pressing chaste kisses on the corners of your lips, your chin, across your cheekbones.

“Upstairs,” he said, his voice low. “Be ready for me.”

The heat that had been curling in your belly since the parking lot fanned into a flame in his words, and you nodded mutely. Jake helped you out of the cab of the truck (a couple more kisses and a smidge more of that voice, and you probably would’ve slid off the seat), and you walked on unsteady legs towards the house.

Upstairs, you rooted through Jake’s pajama drawer, looking for the worn navy tshirt he’d requested. You could hear the refrigerator door opening and shutting as Jake shuffled groceries around the kitchen, and you stripped unceremoniously, before pulling the tshirt over your head. The material felt soft, the hem falling just to the tops of your thighs. Jake’s footsteps sounded on the stairs and you darted over to the bed, perching on the edge of it as he came into the room.

At the sight of you, something softened in his demeanor.

His shoulders lost some of their tension, even as he pulled in a deep breath, looking at you. Your thighs pressed together as you fought the urge to squirm under the intensity of his gaze, no less unsettling for its familiarity. He noticed, of course, his eyes darting down to your thighs, and an almost-smile growing on his lips.

He walked into the room slowly, each step measured, and by the time he made it to the bed you were practically vibrating with need. To hear his voice, to feel his touch, to know you’d generated some kind of reaction from him, while you sat fidgeting.

Jake stopped in front of you, running a finger along the neckline of the shirt, and you couldn’t help but lean towards him.

“Thank you.”

He said it quietly, and it surprised you. You weren’t sure if he meant for changing, for waiting, for understanding that he couldn’t say whatever it was, but as you met his eyes as he stood over you, you nodded an unspoken ‘you’re welcome’.

Jake’s hand trailed down the front of the tshirt, his touch warm even through the cotton. His fingers stalled when he reached your breasts, his thumbs passing languidly over you as he confirmed you weren’t wearing anything underneath. Your nipples hardened under his teasing touch, light and unhurried, even as his eyes darkened.

“So good for me,” Jake murmured, and his hands dropped farther. He tapped the tops of your thighs and you opened them obediently. There was no pretense here, no point in pretending his words and his authority didn’t affect you. As you parted your legs, Jake sank to his knees beside the bed, his eyes flashing as he bent level to your hips.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered, his warm breath ghosting over you, the endearment falling from his lips like it was natural, even if it was only when you were like this, “is this for me?”

He pressed a feather-light kiss to your core, his tongue darting out between his lips to taste you and you knew what he meant—you were already glistening with arousal. Jake’s fingers came up to grip your thighs and he inhaled deeply as he spread your legs farther, sending a flush of color across your chest. You always felt desired with Jake, but sometimes it felt carnal, the way he needed you to fill all his senses.

Another light kiss, another sweep of his tongue, tantalizing promises and teases for the both of you. You leaned back on your hands, braced on the bed, as Jake’s gentle touches continued. It wasn’t at all what you’d expected, this soft exploration, and your hips lifted towards him, asking for more.

He pulled back.

You whimpered at the loss of his mouth, looking down to see him licking his lips. Jake’s chin was wet, shining with your arousal, and he’d barely touched you.

“Jake…” you started, your body canting towards him, but his hands on your legs stilled you.

“Asked you a question,” he mumbled, holding your eyes while he leaned in to place another chaste kiss on your cunt. His lips closed over you, his tongue curled against you, and you trembled at the dark look in his eyes.

“Yes, fuck,” you breathed, and Jake sucked where his lips had sealed, a reward. “All for you, Jake, only you.”

He hummed, the vibration causing your head to fall back as he placed another maddeningly controlled kiss on your core. He lapped at you slowly, pulling your arousal into his mouth, savoring your taste, taking his time. You realized you were trembling, your body shaking as Jake took what he desired, finding his pleasure between your thighs.

He kissed you, again, again, a soft trail up to your clit. When he rolled his tongue over that tight mound, your arms gave out, one of your hands tangling into his hair while you fell back to your other elbow.

Jake chuckled against your core.

“Need something, sweetheart?” he asked, licking a long stroke up your cunt. Your back arched and you cried out as Jake smirked into you, his tongue circling your clit. “Use your words.”

“More,” you gasped, your hips bucking into his touch. “Please, Jake, I need more.”

“More?” Jake asked, his voice low, and his teeth brushed over your clit as he sucked. You moaned, and Jake soothed you with more light kisses before you felt him shifting. A moment later, a thick finger traced along your folds, and you nodded feverishly.

“Please,” you begged, “I need—”

“Oh she needs, does she?” Jake mused, and you whimpered as he pulled back. You felt his cheek press against your thigh as he watched his fingers pulling through you. He spread you with his hand, holding your folds apart so he could lick deeply into you. The pressure of his tongue, the sureness of his touch, it felt so good, but it wasn't anywhere near enough.

And he knew it, the asshole.

“Yes, please, I—” you broke off with a yelp when Jake pinched your clit. He leaned in to soothe it with another frustrating kiss, but your body echoed with the throbbing pulse.

“Most people would be grateful to have their man on his knees, wouldn’t they?” Jake said, his voice muffled as his lips trailed over your core, but the teasing derision still present, sending a tremor through you. “But not you, hmm, honey? You want more.”

Your breath caught at his words; surely he hadn’t meant to say your man.

He wasn’t yours like that, hot as it was for him to say it…but the illusion of it was enough to set your reeling. You looked down at him—hair mussed from your fingers, pupils blown wide from your taste, shoulders panting as he chose between air and more of you—and this afternoon you liked the idea of him being yours.

“Greedy, greedy girl,” Jake chastised softly, when you didn’t correct him, but if you closed your eyes, you could pretend there was a fondness hiding in the gentleness of his voice.

He thrust two fingers into you.

You arched off the bed, a wail falling from your lips as Jake curled his fingers inside of you.

“And I take care of you, don’t I,” he said, kissing your cunt sloppily as his fingers worked in and out of you. “Every damn time, satisfy this needy pussy, this fucking perfect cunt.”

The stretch of his fingers, the wet drag of his tongue, the dirty sting of his words, washed over you and you moaned as he wrecked you.

“Yes, Jake,” you practically whined. “You’re so good, you feel so good, please—”

“That’s right,” Jake gritted, his fingers working faster. He thrust into you, stroking your walls and kissing it better with his warm mouth. You felt your thighs shaking and heat building in your center and you didn’t remember falling back onto the bed, but you didn’t remember anything other than the torturous, teasing, all consuming need that Jake was stroking between your legs.

“Fuck, honey, squeezing me so tight,” Jake panted. “You gonna cum for me? After all that needing, you gonna let me make you feel good? Come on, sweetheart, let me have it; it’s mine.”

His fingers continued stretching you, thrusting into you with perfect, intoxicating, precision and Jake leaned closer to your core again. His nose brushed against your clit before his lips closed around it, sucking messily, and you felt the building pressure inside of you shatter.

You heard yourself sobbing like something in a dream, distant and echoing, but all you could feel was the tremors wracking your body, and Jake’s tongue pulling you through it.

“Pretty girl,” Jake was murmuring between kisses. “You’re so damn beautiful, all the time, but when you come for me it’s something else. You did so good, sweetheart, so good, and you taste like fucking heaven…”

You whimpered as your head cleared, pulling weakly at his hair as he continued to kiss your sensitive core.

Jake continued to lap up your release, unrelenting, unsatiated, and you both groaned when he eased a finger back into you.

“How we doing, sweetheart,” he asked, and when you opened your eyes, he was watching you carefully. You realized he was holding his finger still inside of you, and it was your hips pulling him into you, rocking into his hand.

“Good,” you whispered.

Jake nodded, and his finger curled. “That’s my girl.”

His words soothed over you, and you felt them settle warmly over your skin, the same as when he’d called himself your man. It was probably pheromones, nothing more, but God it was a lovely thought.

“Sweetheart…” Jake’s voice was quiet, dangerous. “You know what that look does to me.”

This was happening more often than not, little moments where you wished for more, and Jake had to remind you that that wasn’t the deal you’d both agreed to. You clenched your eyes shut again, trying to make it go away.

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

When you looked at him again, Jake’s forehead was pursed in a frown, and he shifted his weight to climb up onto the bed. He lowered himself over you, his hard body pressing over your soft one, and his mouth found yours. He kissed you and you tasted yourself on his tongue, even in the gentle insistence of this kiss.

Jake pulled back, his lips trailing along your jaw, your neck.

“Don’t apologize, honey, please don’t,” he whispered against your skin. “I can’t…please don’t.”

And you pressed your lips tightly together to trap the words, but when he pulled back to look at you, you knew you couldn’t look, not without showing him what he didn’t want to see. You could feel him watching you carefully, gauging your reaction as he added another finger inside of you. He groaned when you clenched around him, his hips rocking into you slowly as yours spread wider, to cradle him.

“Feels good, Jake,” you gasped, loving the weight and motion of him.

He sucked on your neck, nibbling lightly and letting go as he rocked into you again. “Why’d you have to do that,” he mumbled into your collarbone, “look at me like that, then tell me it feels good. Makes me want to keep you, honey.”

Your hips stuttered against his, even as you knew he didn’t mean it, he couldn’t. Before you could ask and before he could take it back, he surged up to kiss you again. There was something almost frantic in his kiss, desperate enough that you knew this was it, whatever had gotten into him back at the grocery store.

“Sweetheart,” he groaned, pulling his fingers out of you, settling his hands on your waist, squeezing tightly to orient himself. His face was buried in your neck, hiding, even as his clothed hips rutted harder against you.

“Tell me what you need,” you asked, one of your hands coming up to card through his hair. He shivered, this enormous pilot, shivered at your words and your touch. He pulled back to look at you again, carefully, for a long moment.

The afternoon sun was fading, and he looked golden in your arms, crouched above you. He hadn’t pushed your hand from his hair, and you smiled when he moved his head, adjusting where you were scratching him, working up the gumption to say whatever it was he needed.

“Can we pretend?” he asked at last, his voice holding something almost vulnerable. “I…maybe I can explain it later. But for now, can we just pretend?”

You didn’t know what he meant, but, irrationally, you trusted him anyway. If this was what he needed, and you could provide it, then you would. You nodded, and he let out a slow breath, nodding back. Beyond that, he didn’t move, looking almost uncertain with what to do next, so you pushed at his shoulders lightly.

“Let’s start here, yeah?” you prompted, pulling his shirt over his head.

Jake helped you, shifting to his side so you both could work on getting his pants off. Then he was in his boxer briefs, and you were in his shirt, and then he pulled that off of you too. The air was thick for a moment as you lay looking at each other, waiting.

You ran a hand down his chest, over the smooth skin and coarse hair, thickening as you trailed lower. You brushed your fingers over his length, straining against his underwear, and looked back up at him through your lashes.

“Don’t you want to fuck me, Jake?” you asked softly. He nodded, eyes closing as you ran your hand over him again.

“More than that,” he whispered.

He felt good in your hand, hot and thick, and you watched the outline grow as you waited for him to finish the thought.

You felt him brush some of your hair out of your face, before he said quietly, “Want to get you pregnant.”

You froze.

When you looked back up at him, Jake was watching you closely and your heart felt like someone had it in a chokehold because that was what he’d meant by pretending?? You’d mentally prepared for some variety of roleplay, maybe even an admiral or rank kink, but this? You, just with a future together?

While your mind was screaming that it was unintentionally cruel, your body was sighing that it was so. Damn. Hot.

You had an IUD so it wasn’t a possibility, but the fantasy was admittedly one that sent a pulse of need straight through you.

“Color,” Jake asked softly, and you bit your lip.

If you said no, he’d be apologetic, probably fix you a bath or go downstairs, give you some space while he fixed something from the grocery run earlier. You’d eat together, pretend it hadn’t happened, and he’d help you get back to base, whatever you needed. Unless what you needed was to be here with him, like this, only not pretend.

It was that simple, wasn’t it: there was no way you were walking unscathed away from knowing how Jake fucked you when he wanted a future with you.

But you looked at him, into his soft eyes that were waiting for you, hoping for you, and there was only one word in your mind.

“Green,” you whispered.

Jake’s eyes closed.

The hand that had brushed your hair away settled on your neck and he pulled you to him.

“Thank you,” he said, and before you could process that, he kissed you.

This kiss was different.

It wasn’t possessive, it wasn’t hungry. It was almost tender. It was gratitude, honest and insistent, pressed against your lips as Jake thanked you for something he had no way of knowing you wanted.

It was too gentle, but when you tried to deepen it, Jake held back, soothing you with soft caresses. His hands were light on your shoulders, your waist, the side of your face, embracing you with more than just his kiss. You melted into it, the gentle slide of his mouth against yours, his sweet taste, the strength of his arms around you. Jake kissed you until he felt you trust him with it, and then he rolled you both over.

He settled over you, his long body draping over yours, and you wanted to melt into the bedspread. Your arms were wrapped around him, pulling him closer to you, and one of your hands ran over his stomach to slip into his underwear. You hummed into Jake’s kiss as your fingers wrapped around his cock, warm and heavy in your hand, and his hips pushed further into your grasp.

“Honey, hold on—” he muttered against your lips, but you shook your head. His touch was too good, there was too much unspoken, and if you let the tenderness fester unchecked, you weren’t going to be able to handle this.

You could lean into this, you could do it. You slid your hands around his back, pushing his boxer briefs down to his thighs before your hand returned to his cock. You knew he always got a little worked up when he went down on you, and as you stroked your hand over him, precum beaded on the tip of his cock.

“Waited long enough, Jake,” you whispered, “want you to fill me.”

Jake drew in a sharp breath at your words, and he nudged your chin with his nose, moving your face so he could kiss up your neck. His mouth was more desperate than focused; you knew he’d leave marks and you tried not to think about why you wanted him to. You shifted under him, moving to guide his cock towards your entrance, brushing against your thighs, slicked with his spit and your orgasm.

“Sweetheart,” he groaned, words muffled against your neck, a warning and a promise as you ran his cock through your folds. “You’re so warm and I’m not even in you yet.”

“Want to feel you,” you told him, wishing your voice was wrecked because he’d asked you to pretend, not because the thought of him having you like this sent your head spinning.

“I know, honey,” Jake said, voice low. “Just give me a sec.”

You could hear his breathing, measured like he had to count it, like it was overwhelming for him too. You licked your lips as you lined him up with your core.

“Come on, Jacob,” you cooed, letting go of his cock and running your hands up his side, settling under his shoulder blades, “don’t you want to breed me?”

“Fucking hell,” Jake swore, and his hips slammed forward.

Your head fell back as he shoved his cock into you, stretching you, deep and hot and sudden. You whimpered his name as your body ached in the most delicious way, stuffed, full.

“What’d you think would happen, honey,” Jake said, his voice hoarse, but his tone sharp. His arms caged around you, and he pushed off the bed to pull out slowly.

The drag of his cock through your cunt was devastating, but not half as much as the look on his face, when you opened your eyes.

Fuck, he looked so good.

Sandy hair in his eyes, expression strained as he held his body in check, his eyes blown wide with desire. His head dropped when he pulled nearly out of you, just the tip still in you, and you felt yourself clenching down on him, needing him. His lowered head draped his dog tags against your chest, the cold metal causing you to gasp.

Jake chuckled, a rumble of a laugh, and the tags dragged across your chest, then trailed up your neck as he leaned forward while he pushed back into you. You looked down your body, down to where his thick cock, shining with your joint arousal, was pressing back into your entrance.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart,” Jake said, and you looked up at him. “That’s right. Look at me while I feed you my cock.”

You whimpered, every impulse telling you to close your eyes, let your head fall, focus only on the stretch of his cock and your body adjusting to him. But you let your eyes burn as you looked up at him, and Jake almost smiled.

“That’s it,” he murmured. “Beautiful girl, doing so good for me.”

Your nails raked up his back as he bottomed out in you. He felt so deep, like you could feel his heartbeat, or maybe that was just the way his chest was pressed up against yours. It felt like every inch of your body was connected to his, melting into him, as Jake waited for you to adjust. His eyes darted over your face, watching you carefully, and it warmed you just as much as his body over yours.

“Need you to move, Jake,” you gasped, when you were ready. “Need to feel you move.”

“We’re back to need, are we?” Jake asked wryly, but he rolled his hips, pushing deeper into you before pulling himself back out. He thrust back into you, your body accepting him, craving the push and pull and the fullness of him. Jake set a steady pace, deep and thorough and you felt like every time he pressed into you it was too much, and when he pulled out, like you needed him all the more for it.

So, yeah, you were back to need.

“Fuck, those sounds you’re making,” Jake groaned. “You sound so good, sweetheart, I could come just from hearing you.”

You hadn’t even realized you were whining, each thrust of Jake’s hips punching sounds out of you. A layer of sweat coated his skin, soothing the abrasion of his chest hair as he moved over your and the juxtaposition of it all—his words, his cock, his sweat, his chest—clouded your mind so all you could do was keep making whatever noises he pulled from you.

“But not today, huh?” Jake continued, pushing back into you. “Not today, because today’s not just about getting us there, is it, it’s about fucking filling you.”

You moaned at his words, nodding desperately, feeling yourself clenching him tighter at his words. God, you wanted to feel that, wanted to feel him.

“‘s that what you want, baby?” Jake gritted, his hips slamming forward. “To be so full of me, with my seed, not just when I can give it to you like this. Fuck, you’d always have me in you, wouldn’t you, carrying me.”

You felt yourself sliding up the bed, being pushed up by the force of his thrusts. You reached back for the headboard, finding it closer than you’d expected, pushing back to meet Jake, and he moaned.

“That’s right, sweetheart, push yourself back on this cock. You need that don’t you, to milk it till you’re full of me?”

You cried out as you nodded, needing that, just like he said. Jake swore under his breath, reaching down to rearrange you. He pulled your legs out from your hips, hooking his elbows under your thighs and easing into you again.

“Jake, fuck,” you groaned, the new angle pushing him impossibly deeper. Pleasure curled hot in your core, stoked higher by the friction of Jake’s thrusts. Your body was still sensitive from your first orgasm, but his cock and his words had you hurtling towards that precipice again, sooner than you could’ve imagined.

“You too, sweetheart,” he gritted, but he couldn’t know, couldn’t feel this as much as you did.

“Jake,” you whimpered. “I’m want to come, please—”

“No,” Jake gasped, and your eyes flew open. His jaw was slack, his eyes hooded, but his expression was intense as he looked down at you. His mouth opened slightly when he pressed deeper into you again, but he gained control when he pulled back, your body protesting the loss of him.

“No?” you echoed, and he shook his head.

“We have to time it right,” Jake murmured, his cock shoving back into you, “if we want this to stick, honey, you have to come with me.”

Your eyes rolled back, at his words or from the steady press of his cock. “Jake—”

“Count us down, sweetheart,” Jake said, voice stern. He braced his hands on either side of you, his arms shaking as he held himself in check, but his expression steady. “I’ll get us there, but you tell me when you need it.”

Fuck, you were pretty sure you could come just then, if he told you to. But you bit your lip and nodded, rewarded by a slow push as Jake rolled his hips into you.

“Ten…” he prompted.

“Ten,” you repeated, not sure if you could make it that long. Jake pulled back as he stroked out of you, and you heard him spit a moment before a cool wetness covered your clit.

“You look so beautiful,” Jake whispered, his thumb brushing over your clit. “God, how unreal you’re going to look carrying my child.”

“Nine,” you gasped, your vision blurring as his finger worked over you.

“Fuck, with your stomach all round,” Jake broke off as he thrust into you sharply, “filled, carrying my child...”

His thumb moved in a circle with delicious, maddening pressure, and you moaned as his words settled over you. “Eight.”

“These tits,” Jake leaned forward, his shoulders pressing your thighs flat against the bed and his mouth closing over your breast, messily kissing you, “they’ll be fucking swollen, won’t they, as you get ready to nurse our child.”

Your back arched off the bed as his tongue worked over you, mirroring the motion of his thumb. His mouth was wet and warm and perfect, and heat pulsed through your body. You could feel everything and you keened as you tamped it down, knowing you had to wait.

“Seven,” you managed, and Jake hummed, you could feel it.

“So soft, swollen, and all full of milk,” Jake mumbled, switching to the other breast. “And when you’re aching and sensitive, I’ll be there for you—bet you’ll taste so sweet like that, won’t you, darlin’.”

The thought of nursing Jake was stunning, and you moaned when you realized he was sucking at you, nipping and miming milking your breasts. You felt your body tighten, your toes curling and you shook your head against the pillow.

“Six; I’m not going to—”

“You’ll make it,” Jake soothed, releasing your breasts and shifting back, returning his attention to your clit. “You’re doing so good for me, sweetheart, I know you can do it. Just a little longer, have to make sure you’re ready for me.”

“Five,” you gasped, “I’m ready, Jake, please–”

Jake pressed more firmly on your clit, stealing your words as your breath caught. “I don’t know, honey—you’re doing so good for me, but it’s a big fucking load. That’s what you need, that’s what I need, so much fucking cum, to get my girl pregnant.”

You could only moan, surrendering to the feelings and emotions he was caressing out of you. Your skin felt white hot, and you could feel your legs trembling; it was only a matter of time before you lost control entirely.

“Four,” you whimpered, and Jake thrust into you again.

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” he soothed, his own voice tight as he fought off his orgasm. “You’re milking my cock so good, honey, can you feel it? Feel how hard you make me, how bad I need you, how I need to fill you?”

His rhythm faltered as his pace sped up, his cock plunging into you. Jake grunted at the top of every thrust, a sound of deep satisfaction that curled through you, gave you strength you didn’t know to hold off, to wait for him, to do it together.

“Three,” you cried.

“That’s it, sweetheart, because I do need to feel you, need to fill you, pump till you’re full of me and see me dripping out of my pretty cunt. Christ, you feel so good, you’re so good, how are you—”

Jake broke off, his hips slamming into yours, his cock reaching a place that had you seeing stars. Your eyes rolled back and you reached for him blindly, anchoring yourself with a hand in his hair, the other closing around his dog tags, moving with him as he thrust over you.

“Two,” you moaned.

“Almost there, sweetheart,” Jake groaned. “Almost there, almost time for me to fuck a baby into you. Fuck, you’ll be such a good mama, won’t you, so smart and beautiful and glowing when you’re carrying my child, all contented because I gave you everything, always will, and you can’t leave then, not with my seed—tell me you’re close, honey, are you almost there?”

“Jake,” you wailed, your count forgotten as your body trembled, his words closing around your heart like a vice. Jake’s pace was bordering on erratic, rhythm lost, his sweat dripping down to your joined bodies every time his hips met yours.

“Gonna give you a baby,” he gritted, “but you have to come with me, come with me now, please, fuck, sweatheart—”

Jake came with a shout, hoarse and sharp and he pressed his hips into you. He pulsed inside of you, his hips shuddering, and you could feel his cum streaming into you, hot and deep and what you needed. His head dropped to your chest as his body loosened with his release and you felt your orgasm break over you, like a thousand fuses lit at once.

The room swam, blinding light and senseless heat, pulsing over your skin like a heartbeat, and your awareness was distilled to him—Jake.

Jake’s beautiful groan when he finished, echoing around in your head, the holiest sound you’d ever heard.

Jake’s hips stuttering weakly against yours, thrusting even after he’d cum, like he couldn’t stop.

Jake’s voice, hoarse, whispering words you couldn’t discern, phrases you must’ve heard incorrectly, promises pressed against your skin.

Jake’s hands, shaking with the force of his orgasm, but smoothing over your skin, checking you, soothing you.

The light faded and you fell back into yourself, into your wrung out body, drenched in sweat and pleasure. The room felt hazy, heavy, and you realized Jake had matched his breathing to yours. You reached down, pushing the sweat-dampened hair off his forehead, smiling reassuringly when he looked up at you.

You could see it on the tip of his tongue, wanting to ask if you were okay, but he held it back, and you watched him shut down the part of him that was nervous about what had just happened.

“Hi,” you whispered, your voice hoarse.

“Hey,” Jake said back, clearing his throat. “Um, I can get a towel—”

“Can we stay?” you asked, hoping it didn’t sound too desperate. You just needed a minute, just a moment to bask in the warmth of what you’d pretended to feel, before your mind could catch up enough to pretend it away.

Jake hesitated for a moment, before nodding, and gently rearranging your legs, laying them down beside him before he shifted onto his back, pulling you with him. You went easily, resting on his chest and drawing a deep breath, thankful for the borrowed moment.

He probably wasn’t pulling out to avoid making a mess, knowing a washcloth was far away, but you could almost imagine it was because he craved the closeness as much as you did.

As you settled against his chest, one of Jake’s hands came up, absently running up and down your arm. You thought it had to count for something, the ‘friends’ part of ‘friends with benefits’, so you steadied yourself before you asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Jake’s hand stilled, then resumed its slow brushing as he petted you. You knew he knew what you meant—you weren’t asking about the sex, you were asking about before.

“Not really,” he said quietly.

You’d expected as much. “Okay.”

Jake’s fingers drummed against your arm, and the room was quiet again. The sun was setting, casting the room in an orange light, like the inside of a lamp.

“I mean, if you want to, we can,” he hedged, after a minute.

You scoffed. “That doesn’t mean much; I always want to talk with you.”

Shit.

The words had slipped out before you could stop them, and you squeezed your eyes shut, wishing you could take them back.

“We can ignore that,” you mumbled, and Jake chuckled softly, before sobering.

“If I tell you why,” he said, “can we ignore that, too?”

Ignoring and pretending, how you’d always expected falling in love to be.

Even though no one could see you, you rolled your eyes at yourself, and your malaise. You nodded into Jake’s chest, knowing he could feel it.

His hand was back to stroking your arm, like he wasn’t even aware he was doing it.

“You kinda looked like that kid,” he said.

Your heart stopped.

“What?” you managed.

“At Whole Foods,” Jake said, “when you were holding that little girl. I just came around the corner and it was like…like I saw a whole parallel life, one where someone married you, gave you kids. And I’d just walk by you in a grocery store, without knowing. Hell, even knowing, you looked like a family, like you fit together, like…”

He trailed off and your head physically ached as your mind whirred, processing his words. “Jake, she didn’t look anything like me.” “Her hair was similar,” he continued, a stubborn lilt to his voice, and you knew he wasn’t looking to be reasoned out of this.

“Okay,” you said, wetting your lips, waiting for Jake to finish the thought.

Only he didn’t.

He simply lay there, with you, his hand moving gently up and down your arm, seemingly content.

“So you decided you wanted to roleplay us getting pregnant?” you prompted, when it became clear that he wasn’t going to say anything else.

Jake sighed. “I hated it.”

You jolted at his words. “What?”

“Shit no, sweetheart, not that,” Jake said hurriedly. “Not what we—no, are you kidding, that was so damn hot—I meant seeing you in the store. With him. And holding her. It…I don’t know, it made me mad it wasn’t me.”

You pulled in a sharp breath, trying to find a platonic way to interpret that.

You could feel your heartbeat in your temples, so loud you couldn’t think, much less rationalize and you pushed yourself off of his chest. Your hips ached as you spread them again, settling your knees on either side of Jake as you looked down at him, still joined. Jake’s expression was guarded, but he let you look, shifting his shoulders on the pillows but meeting your eyes. Without your arm to stroke, his hand fell to the top of your thighs and resumed its motion there; you could tell the silence was making him nervous.

Well, that made two of you.

“I need you to be so fucking honest with me, Jake Seresin,” you said, proud of the way your voice was steady. “What does that mean?”

A hundred emotions flashed across Jake’s face before you could name them, and then he pushed himself up, settling you firmly on his lap as he brought his eyes level to yours.

“It should be me,” he said, “not with a kid, per se, and not just in Whole Foods, but people should look at us and see we fit.”

And then he kissed you.

For a moment, you were frozen.

This couldn’t be happening.

It had to be a weird, sex-induced dream where Jake told you he was jealous of an absolute stranger, jealous enough to admit he had something dangerously close to feelings for you.

But even as alarm bells sounded in your head, you knew this wasn’t a dream.

Because your body was sore in a very real way, the man in front of you was flushed, his fingers digging into your thighs with nervous tension, and he was kissing you carefully, so carefully, like he could pull back at any moment if you told him to.

Like hell.

You leaned into him, your hands wrapping around the back of his head to pull him closer to you. You felt him relax, felt his shoulders loosen and his arms wind around your waist, pulling your body flush against him. And this kiss was new, it was different, it was excitement and a little bit of embarrassment, at the foolishness of waiting so long.

You broke away, panting, and Jake rested his forehead against yours, his chest heaving. In the orange light, he looked gilded, too good to be true, like maybe he was Midas but you didn’t care if your skin turned to metal, so long as he didn’t stop touching you.

His long lashes fluttered, and your heart flipped at what you read in his green eyes as he opened them.

“Jesus, Jake,” you muttered, teasing, “you could’ve just told me you wanted to go steady.”

He chuckled, a warm low sound that you felt shake his body at the old-fashioned phrase.

“Yeah,” he said, turning his head to press a kiss to your temple, “but then we would’ve never discovered you had a breeding kink.”

Your jaw dropped and you pulled back, sputtering. “Excuse me—”

“I know, I know,” Jake shook his head, grinning, incorrigible. “But admit it: you loved it.”

You snapped your mouth shut, trapping the response that threatened to bubble out, words you hadn’t dared think, much less speak, before this moment. Jake looked at you, at your pressed-together lips and eyes that always said too much, and his smile softened.

“I know,” he said again, quietly, and he kissed you gently. Jake’s arms were tight around you and you leaned into him, letting it—whose kink it was, what you loved, what he knew—all go, knowing there was nowhere else you’d rather be.

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marthawrites · 1 year

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Could you do inexperienced Aemond with an experienced partner

Teaching A Dragon New Tricks

Aemond Targaryen x fem reader

Word count: 3.2k+

About: You and Prince Aemond have been giving each other eyes for some time now, and he finally makes the first move. After that, you feel comfortable showing him a few things. His drive for knowledge extends beyond books.

Includes: Aemond being a cute noobie (nerd), having an awakening to the magic of women, and explicit sexual content! Featuring male masturbation, vaginal fingering, and fem receiving oral.

Note: Hello lovely reader! My first ever request ahhhhh! This was seriously so much fun to think about and write. It's my first time writing this dynamic. I hope I did your request justice! As always, please enjoy! ♥

The first time Aemond kissed you he almost missed your lips. That’s not how any prince in the storybooks acted – they always knew how to make pretty maidens swoon.

Surely Aemond’s misaim was a jest? Although… you’d never known, or witnessed, him being the jesting type.

You looked up at him wide-eyed and surprised. You held your breath high in your throat, and Aemond must have too, judging by how his nostrils flared. Blood bloomed beneath his alabaster cheeks. His single eye desperately searched yours.

Had he misunderstood all of your shared experiences? Brief and in passing as some of them might have been? Had Aegon told him to “kiss her, brother. Why haven’t you yet? When you do, make sure to hold her throat like this and move your tongue through her mo–” he’d stopped listening at that point, blinking puzzlingly at the mental image of choking you for a kiss. He couldn’t imagine how that’d be enjoyable.

Yet, now he wondered if he should have done exactly what Aegon said.

“I– I’m sor–,” he started, taking half a step back. Embarrassment burned his pride.

You blinked, then, eyes sparkling with some sort of secret amusement. “Aemond Targaryen… dragon prince and rider of Vhagar…,” you said slyly. “Have you never kissed anyone before?”

If he blushed before, he damn near combusted with the absolute ease in which you read him. “Am I that obvious?”

A giggle answered his nervous question. Light, and airy, the sound full of magic like spring-pink flowers twirling in the wind. Were it anyone else you might have turned away with no intention of seeking a second. But, with Aemond? Since becoming a lady-in-waiting for Helaena you’d been smitten by him. You stepped forward, toe to toe with the tall, lithe, sheepish prince, and placed your hands on his chiseled face. “Let’s try that again, silly prince…,” you said before standing on your tippy toes to press your lips to his in a much more well-aimed kiss.

It was that day, in the soft sunbeams of Helaena’s empty bedchamber, that you showed Aemond the art of kissing until both of your lips were swollen. He learned wickedly fast.

After breaking fast it was a ritual for Helaena and her children to spend time in the gardens – rain or shine. Luckily it’d been sunny for a few days and last week’s downpour finally dried from the top soil. During these hours there never seemed to be a dull moment. You were sent off by the kids with nothing but a linen bag and a mission of finding bugs. They were putting together an insectarium and needed any and everything that crawled. It was a fun break. Fresh air and sunshine brought out the natural colors of your hair as it slowly loosened from its careful bun.

Before you knew it you were away from the main crowds and pathways. Insects buzzed in the air; quiet and secluded.

Just as you crouched down, a familiar voice called your name right when a jumping spider inspected your palm. “Shouldn’t you be training, my prince?” You asked as you looked over your shoulder to regard Aemond with your little bug friend.

If he cared about the spider he showed no sign of it. He crouched beside you and gently pushed you onto your back, grinning down at you like the trickster you were learning him to be. Sunlight hit his face and softened his otherwise sharp features. “Not with the sword. I’d rather train other things,” he said in a voice much too huskily. His mouth was on yours. With any luck the spider successfully jumped away and not into yours or his hair. “I haven’t stopped thinking about kissing you since the last time I did.”

For someone who literally just learned how to do that he was really good at it. A soft moan vibrated your lips against his. Your hands trailed up the front of his chest and neck, pushing away a stray bit of hair that tickled your collarbone. “Greedy prince…,” you giggled against his mouth, daring to nip his bottom lip.

“Perhaps you should have thought twice before showing me such things,” he replied. His free hand lifted to carefully lay over your throat; putting to first use the trick he learned from Aegon. Your reaction – arching beneath him – had his pupil swelling. "You like that?"

You nodded with a breathless smile. "Yeah. Not too hard though. It feels good just there," you purred, thighs pressing together as warmth built and collected in your core. The heavy kissing and exploring nibbles felt as if you were making up for lost time; Aemond One-Eye starved of affection. Muscles in your belly tightened and it took all you had to pull away from him, eyes dreamy and half-lidded. "Aemond… I want you to touch me. Please," your voice rasped. Wanton.

He looked at you curiously. "I am touching you," he answered, dipping to rub the tip of his nose against yours.

You fought another giggle. "No, my prince, I mean really touch me." You bent an elbow to lean up on it and carefully grabbed his hand with your other. In a guided trail, you swept his palm from your neck to your thigh and watched his expression all the while. "Have you ever pleasured a woman before?"

Color rose in his face, and even in the midmorning sun his pupil swelled. The strained tightness in the front of his trousers throbbed against where he leaned against you. "No," he half croaked. "Will… will you teach me like you did the other day with your kiss?" He squeezed your thigh with his question, marveling at the softness.

"Yes," you answered with an inward hiss. Gripping his wrist you added, "not here. Anyone could be around. And I am to be with princess Helaena all day. Tonight?"

"Not tonight. Now," he said.

“I cannot just leave her and her children behind!”

Some might not believe it, but Prince Aemond had tiny dimples when he smirked. Dimples. He leaned into the crook of your neck and kissed, then bit, and kissed again. Goosebumps tickled his lips when he said, “good thing the princess is my sister and I’m not obliged to her law.” Without giving you a chance to protest he stood and pulled you to your feet. He guided you back to the main path and paid little mind to bystanders.

“Brother, where are you taking her?” Helaena asked once she saw the two of you – his arm wrapped around your back as if for support.

“I found her off the path. She’s fainted. I’m taking her to her room,” he replied swiftly; the dirt on your back making his lie appear genuine.

Once inside the Red Keep, instead of taking you in the direction of your sleeping quarters, he took you to his. You two were able to sneak inside and latch the door without anyone seeing. You'd been in here before, but never under these circumstances. Excitement fluttered in your core and when his mouth found yours again you buzzed with anticipation. "Someone is eager…," you muttered playfully against his lips.

"Says the maiden who's given into the carnal desires of flesh outside of wedlock," he scolded against the side of your neck, nipping. "You unholy creature."

You gasped at the sensation of his teeth. "You might be surprised to know things aren't as strict among the smallfolk as it is with you nobles," you whizzed in response. "I'm quite glad to be born where I was. You royals are so uptight."

Through the banter Aemond led you towards his bed until the backs of your legs bumped against the edge of it. When you fell backwards with him above you, his silky pale hair like a curtain around your face, you wanted nothing else than to stay there for countless hours. "Are you going to keep babbling or show me how to make you feel good?" His smirk had an edge of darkness and you wondered if he was being entirely honest with you in regard to his experience.

Aemond wasn't lying. Truthfully, he hadn't any experience. That didn't mean he hadn't "accidentally" read about things here and there in sordid library books. And having Aegon as a brother meant he was victim to unsolicited advice and peer pressure often. The books were out of curiosity, whereas Aegon’s taunts were simply annoying.

He had an idea of how things worked. Though, he never had the opportunity to act upon such things.

"Aemond… if you don't start doing something I think you'll drive me positively insane."

Following the passive command, his hand began slowly trailing up your leg. He pushed your skirts up as he did so, allowing the fabric to bunch up until it barely covered your smallclothes. His gaze shifted from between his hand and your face – eager to see your reaction. "Something like this, right?"

Against your will, you arched beneath him and grinned breathlessly. "Yeah," you replied. The scratch of his skin on yours had your core flexing with a need beyond your control. "A little higher still…," you said, smiling.

Shifting his weight, he laid on his side, now, able to look from your face to the space between your thighs that was becoming more and more exposed. The backs of his fingers brushed along your covered mound and you jolted, narrowly missing crashing your forehead to his chin. "Are you okay?"

Blushing, you squeaked, "yes."

"Are you sure? You nearly headbutted me."

"Shh.. shut up!" You laughed, embarrassed. "Gods. Keep doing that, there, feels so good," you said as you pulled your skirts higher up your front. Intentional or not, his teasing made you, somehow, want him even more. "Actually… these are just in the way," you added, tugging your own underwear off.

He watched you with surprise in his eye. He'd never seen this side of you – or any woman, in that fact – and with each passing moment the prince felt an undiscovered part of himself roar to life. He liked it. Pulse drummed in his chest and behind his ears, and he had to steady his hand as he lowered it to cup your bare mound. Breath quickly hitched in his throat. "You're so warm," he whispered, shuddering. The pads of his fingers pressed curiously along the outside of your folds and he bit down on his own lower lip to stifle a sound he’d never quite made before. “And slick.”

You allowed the sound he bit back to flow freely from your throat. “Surely you know how it works…,” you teased, thighs opening more than they already were. “Women get wet where men get hard.” His touch was curious and inexperienced, yet something about it was endearing and made your belly tighten. When he grazed your clit you whimpered, melting into the mattress. “Right there,” you whispered thickly. “Is my pearl. It’s very sensitive and the center of a woman’s pleasure,” you added, voice and cheeks sultry alike.

The front of Aemond’s pants had never been tighter. He turned quickly off the bed to kneel at the end of it, pulling your legs until you were right where he wanted. His attention flickered between your face and that needy space between your thighs; glistening and pink with desire. One hand held you open while the thumb of the other grazed all over your parted slit, exploring. Soft wet sounds accentuated your panting. The pressure of his thumb shifted from firm to light, and he tested different types of strokes, tearing his focus from your cunt only to watch your face for your reaction. “Here?” He questioned, sliding over your swollen bud.

Your hands tightened in his bedding. A moan came from your slackened jaw and you nodded down at him, watching him observe you. “Yes.”

He circled it, slid across it, and stroked along it. The sounds you made shot right to his cock and made his head heavy as if he’d drank too much wine. In tandem with some of his motions he saw the way your little opening clenched and relaxed around nothing; arousal seeping out of you lewdly, pleadingly, driving him to the brink of madness. He throbbed in his pants. Without entirely realizing it, he opened the front of them to let his cock free. He sighed at the freeing sensation. He groaned something in High Valyrian, cuntdrunk at the sight of you spread open so prettily.

"Push a finger in. I want to feel you," you said down at him breathlessly, one of your hands moving to gently cup the side of his head. If you thought him roguishly dashing before, seeing him here and now, knelt and learning the ways of your body, made him tenfold. It was all too much. Aemond Targaryen, despite his virginity, might very well bring you to the height of pleasure.

He did as instructed: thumb slipped easily into you and you both gasped at the same time. He'd never felt anything quite like the sensation of you. Warm – no, hot – slippery, and spongy.

"Oh fuck…," you moaned softly. The hand at the side of his head squeezed into his hair, practically tugging at his ear. "More, my prince, please. Try a different finger and move it around inside me." It was a surprise you could speak so clearly as lust blazed through your entire form.

Aemond slipped his thumb out and replaced it with his index. The moan that elicited from you sent him crazy. Somewhere in the back of his mind he remembered reading something from somewhere: using one's mouth to get a woman ready for coupling. He hadn't a clue where, or how, or what, but before he could talk himself out of it his mouth was on you. If his touch felt good on your pearl, then surely his tongue might too.

"Oh my Gods..! No.. you don't have to do that," you blushed, fingernails clawing into his scalp as you stared down at him dumbfounded. In your experience men rarely did this to women, and less enjoyed the act of it.

"Does it feel good?" He asked with sincerity, not wanting to hurt you with his inexperience.

"Yes!"

He smirked and went back to it. Tongue and lips were tentative and unsure, as was his finger still pressed into you, but it hardly stopped you from finding both amusement and bliss in it. He licked all over your folds with the flat of his tongue; tang and salt and a hint of sweetness overtaking his senses. He hadn't a clue how he'd gone so long without experiencing this. Remembering what you said about moving his finger, he did just that. He swirled it around between your slick velvety walls and reveled in how you felt wrapped around his digit.

"Mmf…!" You panted, gripping tighter into his hair. "Keep doing that. With your tongue on my pearl, too," you simpered, the low muscles in your belly flipping and tightening.

The young prince was eager to listen and learn. He followed your instruction. He even dared to add his middle finger too, slowly moving and curling them around. You were so wet, and warm, and tight around him. If you felt like this around his fingers he could only imagine what you'd feel like around his cock. He moaned at the thought, lapping your clit with more confidence and enthusiasm.

You were trying so hard to keep your legs open and relaxed for him, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. For someone who claimed to never have done this before it still felt wonderful. Any time his mouth would begin to stray away from where you wanted him, you pushed him back where he needed to be. The combination of your gently rolling pelvis, pleasured sounds, and hold in his hair, kept him on track. Shifting your legs around a bit, you slung one over his shoulder. The slight change had him finding a spot along your walls that had you seeing stars. "Right there!" You preened, thighs squeezing to lock him in place.

"Is it too much?" He asked, a little taken back with your sudden reaction to whatever it was he'd been doing.

When you looked down at him you nearly lost it. Your arousal glossed his mouth and he looked, somehow, innocent and wild alike. "Yes! But no… keep going. Please don't stop," you whined, desperate, using your hand still tangled in his hair to guide him back down to you.

Even with his jaw aching for a break, he obeyed. He kept his fingers right there where you seemed to really like it, curling and massaging along a section that felt a little different than the rest of the area. He stayed on your bundle of nerves, too, flicking and lapping and relishing every single noise his attention pulled from you. His free hand pumped along his cock; aching and rigid and feeling like it could burst at any second. He moaned into you. He wasn't going to last.

Pleasure peaked and your thighs squeezed around his head again. "Aemond!" You mewled at the top of your climax, the entirety of your womanhood pulsing and shuddering with release.

He couldn't hold back his own release. Never before had he heard his name said like that or called out like that – never experienced the excitement of a spasming cunt. He spent himself as he groaned into you. The last spills of his seed dribbled down his fist while the earlier, more powerful, ropes already began to soak into his bedding.

Your thighs finally relaxed around him and you gently pushed his head away, too sensitive for more. A sheen of sweat collected on your forehead and you felt heat high in your cheeks. Blushed, panting, and satisfied, you looked down at Aemond with bright sparkling eyes. "I don't believe you. You had to have done all of that before."

Slick coated his mouth and chin. His single eye was black with more emotions than you could read and he looked damn near wicked. "More," be said greedily as he squeezed your thighs; already a man addicted.

What had you awoken in the dragon prince? Your chest rose and fell with labored breaths, eyes communicating more than your mouth was currently capable of.

Just then, a knock on his door broke both of you out of the post-orgasm stupor.

He cleared his throat and said, "what is it?" in only a slightly trembling voice.

"Prince Aemond, you are being summoned to the small council meeting."

Annoyance washed over him and he swallowed it with a sigh. "I will be there shortly."

When no other sound came from the door, he tucked himself away and stood from where he'd been kneeling. "You're lucky, my lady, to be off the hook." He grinned cheekily and self-satisfied. He offered his clean hand to help you up before going to wash the other along with his face.

"There's more I can show you another time, if you'd like," you said as you straightened your garb to return to regular duties – as if Aemond hadn't just given you one of the best, if a bit clumsy, orgasms. "You're a very fast learner."

"We can continue to put that to the test," he said with a dark glimmer behind his eye. His angular features were sly in a way you'd never seen before, and you wondered what sort of things simmered in his mind.

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