>You Choose To Masturbate To Entice The Demon King

some fucking resources for all ur writing fuckin needs

* body language masterlist

* a translator that doesn’t eat ass like google translate does

* a reverse dictionary for when ur brain freezes

* 550 words to say instead of fuckin said

* 638 character traits for when ur brain freezes again

* some more body language help

(hope this helps some ppl)

housewife syndrome

yandere! rockstar x fem! reader

cw; possessive + obsessive behaviour, severe mental instability, paranoia, anxiety, violence, heavy nsfw themes, mdni 18+

genie's notes; commissioned piece by a very sweet anon ♡ thank you so much for trusting me with this absolutely stunning idea. i’ve always been a fan of domestic horror, especially of the spiralling housewife variety, so it was fun to explore a new dynamic and fresh writing style. <3

"welcome home, sweetheart!" the television runs on low volume in the background as you greet your husband with a knowing smile. you run through the motions as you always do, make sure to ask with the most innocence you can muster, "how was your day?"

feroze can make out the sound of gallant applause that indicates you'd been watching reruns of last night's award ceremony.

"such a fucking drag." your husband pulls you into his arms, buries his head into the crook of your neck with a long, satisfied sigh and takes his sweet, sweet time to breathe you in. "couldn't fucking wait to come home to you, meri jaan."

his answer remains the same as it is every other day, and you can't help but smile against his lips when he pulls you in to steal a little kiss; you sigh into his mouth, and feroze is so fucking overwhelmed by gratitude for the familiarity and comfort of this little routine the two of you have seemed to settle down into so well.

"i love when you call me that," you confess; my life.

you know just as well as him that, well—it wasn't always this easy.

"yeah," feroze hums. "i know you do, baby."

you weren't always so lovely for him, were you?

-

you're quiet.

though the two of you are sitting across from each other at the dining table, your attention is clearly elsewhere. conversation is slow, if not stagnant. it's a far cry from how talkative you usually are; and though he would never fucking admit it, least of all to you, he worries, for a fraction of a second, that things are slipping.

"meri jaan?" he sets down his fork very carefully, reaches for your hands over the table.

you blink, pulled away from wherever you'd been lost in your mind and back down to this moment that stretches on before you.

"oh, sorry, my love. what was that?"

feroze watches your eyes quietly track the movement of his fingers, sliding over your wrists, lingering, momentarily, on your pulse—nice and steady—before they intertwine with your own.

your gaze lands on him, then, expectant. he drags his thumb over your knuckles, glad to find they're soft; unmarred by any labour. he loves having you here, tucked away within the walls of this home he built just for you, away from the rest of the rotten world.

such a darling girl like you deserves to have everything taken care of for you. as far as he's concerned, the only thing on your mind should be him.

which is why the silence is beginning to irritate him, now. he's not really upset with you, doesn't have a reason to be, just yet—he's just wondering what it is you're so focused on. where do you keep going back to in that head of yours, and why aren't you here with him?

is this where it all falls apart?

—again?

"rosy?" you try. "is everything alright?"

"yeah," feroze's hazel eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles, endearingly patient. "i just wanted to know how your day was."

"ugh, don't remind me." you stick your tongue out. "it was so boring. i woke up so late today and didn't really do anything interesting."

"shit, i'm sorry to hear that, baby."

your husband nods towards the television, still playing from inside the living room across the hall; the screen's bright colours reflect against the glass windows that take up half the wall. though the program is muted, he can still hear the echoes from the cacophony of applause ringing loud and true.

the four hour program's been running on loop on some of the smaller channels, and you really seem to enjoy tuning in, he's noticed.

it would be more difficult not to notice this new habit of yours, really. because if he's been counting right, this is the seventh time you've seen the whole thing through to the end.

"seems like you were at least watching the music thing again."

"well, when my stunning husband won half of the awards," you shrug coyly. "how could i not?"

"flattery won't get you anywhere," feroze deigns, though neither of you mention the involuntary curl to his lips as they lift into a small, self-satisfied smile.

"huh, that's strange," you frown, pull your hands away from his own and make a show of examining the elaborately stacked engagement ring and marital band wrapped around your finger. "if i seem to remember correctly, flattery is exactly what got me this ring."

"oh," he laughs. "is that so?"

"uhuh," you nod, still admiring the rings. they're big and they're flashy and there's no fucking chance anyone could ever miss the sight of them; make the mistake of misunderstanding what they mean. you're so obviously his, and fuck, it suits you so perfectly to belong to him.

i love you, he thinks fiercely. i fucking love you.

"you've got an ego, rosy." your knowing gaze flickers back to him, accompanied by a teasing smile. "bit of a praise kink, too."

"and yet, darling wife," he'll never tire of calling you that; never really overcome the thrill that overwhelms him when he sees you adorned in the markers of his devotion and tucked away all safe and sound. "you're the only person whose words mean anything to me."

"ohh, is that so?" you taunt, "whatever happened to 'flattery won't get you anywhere?'"

feroze takes in the sight of you. you're dressed casual, donned in a baggy old shirt and a pair of his softest sweats hanging low off your hips. comfortable in your own home, as you should fucking feel, you have no makeup on, and your hair is unkempt; overdue for a shower; but fuck if he cares.

feroze decides, within a moment, that he needs you—

now.

"come here, meri jaan. i'll show you."

"you greedy, greedy man," you chastise lightly, rising from your seat. "i've just fed you dinner and you're still salivating at my table."

feroze watches you make the small effort of pushing your chair in, before turning on your heel. you pause in the doorway for a second, spare him a knowing glance over your shoulder; "well? aren't you hungry, darling husband?"

he knows that none of it evades you; the nervous bob of his adam's apple as he swallows. the way his fingers are digging into the edge of the table to keep from sinking inside of you right here. his heart is racing; his pants are tight. though you're so willing to be his now, he remembers it wasn't always this easy.

"my love." feroze grits out, "i'm fucking starving."

you disappear into the hallway, mellifluous laughter like the loveliest song, echoing off the walls—inside of his head, for fuck's sake—as your husband follows faithfully behind you when you lead him into the bedroom.

dinner goes cold on the table. you never touched your plate.

upstairs, minutes later, your husband bottoms out inside of the welcoming warmth of your sweet cunt, just as your fingers brush against the butcher's knife tucked right underneath your pillow.

-

feroze gets you to come twice before he decides he has his fill. he's rummaging through your nightstand for the contraceptives he knows you keep in there. it's got less to do with what he wants and more to do with what he believes is best for the two of you.

it's not that he doesn't want children; he dreams of them often. a little baby swaddled in the softest fabrics, wrapping its entire hand around just one of his fingers. the sound of a second pair of footsteps excitedly running down the hall every time he comes home from the studio, from tour. something more to take care of. to keep you busy.

but your husband knows you.

and though he's always been selfish, he can't risk kids until—well, until he knows you won't try to kill them.

it's taken you years to accept him. he won't undo that.

feroze, so caught up in his thoughts, only really registers the blade until it's slicing into his skin, the sharp edge of it pressing against the side of his neck with just enough pressure to draw blood.

he is disappointed, though by no means surprised, to find you on the other end wielding the knife.

he turns to face you, abandoning his search. you're holding onto the hilt of your makeshift weapon with trembling hands, and though he's suddenly overcome by exhaustion—because, baby, how many more times are you going to pull this—an involuntary shiver runs down his spine at the sight nonetheless.

"jaan," he tries to reason with you in hushed tones; oh, love. "what are you doing?"

you dig the knife in just a little deeper, and he winces; "i hate you, feroze." the words sting, though the relative lack of conviction they’re laced with serves as a promising sign of reconciliation.

"i know, baby. can you please just put the knife down so we can talk like adults?"

he glimpses the almost imperceptible change immediately.

the lines of hesitation on your face; a flicker of uncertainty in your eyes. when your hold on the weapon looses just the tiniest fraction of an inch, he wastes no time in gently but firmly prying the knife from out of your trembling hands; tosses it underneath the bed where it lands out of your reach.

he’s getting better at this. gets through to you so much sooner than he used to.

you’re listening, now, aren’t you?

the thought of it makes him oddly proud.

"there we go," feroze says. you're still shaking, and though he wants so fucking desperately to pull you closer and console you—he's learnt to tread the waters carefully in times like these. you're evidently scared. obviously upset with him. he can give you a little room to breathe. “now do you want to use your words and talk to me properly?”

“i keep rewatching the awards show. every other winner had someone there with them. some girlfriend or wife they kissed before they went on stage. you’re the only one who—” you swallow, voice wavering. “i’m the only one who wasn’t there. i’m the only one who’s kept hidden away.”

“you don’t want to show me off.” the tears fall almost immediately. “you’re ashamed of me.”

there are millions of words in the english language, and millions more in his own. he’s put into words every fleeting feeling you’ve made him feel; spun both the most magnificent and mundane of emotions into beautiful songs and compelling lyrics and composed entire albums from nothing—and yet, somehow, in this moment all of it evades him.

"i spend all day stuck here w-waiting for you to come home, and when you do—i keep thinking about all those ceremonies and galas and parties you go to, rooms i can never follow you into—and i hate you. i hate you for how much you hate me—”

“i’m sorry,” feroze’s hands run up your spine, to lightly curl his fingers around the back of your neck. he tilts your head up so that you’re meeting his gaze; leaves you nowhere to look away, “meri jaan.”

his touch is so soft and so, so cold against your skin. you've always run warmer than him; but he thinks you might be burning up right now. maybe you've got a fever; or maybe you're just this delirious even without one. it doesn't fucking matter, doesn't change anything.

“i’m sorry for ever leaving you alone long enough to even think that. let me make it up to you. let me show you how much i adore you. let me build you back up again.”

“you can’t fix this,” you whisper.

he smiles, but it’s strange; doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “so you said the last time.”

-

hours later, you’re less of a sobbing wreck when he’s got you perched in his lap, and all curled up under his chin. “okay… then…” you sniff. your words are somewhat muffled as you bury your face into your husband’s chest. “i’m sorry, too. i didn’t mean to hurt you, rosy. i was just scared, i-i promise.”

"i know.” his knuckles wipe away the tears drying on your cheeks. “give me a kiss, please.”

and ever the sweet wife, you do; but your lips are trembling.

fuck, that’s—

shit.

—not going to work, is it?

with a gentle but firm hand, he pushes you down onto the bed and watches you land on your back amidst the dozens of pillows that decorate the bed. even then, the softest thing here is you. he forgets that, sometimes. let this be a lesson, he thinks to himself, to keep your fragility in mind. this is only further proof that you need him more than he'd even realised.

but you picked the right man, didn’t you? because none of that scares him.

the two of you have faced far more difficult times together; this is just a little hiccup in your life as a married couple. some story you’ll look back on and laugh about, when you’re all better.

so when you look up at him with wide, wet eyes and ask, "its just—can you promise me you still love me one more time?”

feroze regards you closely. you’re so beautiful. so fucking perfect that it overwhelms him. sometimes, he wishes you could see yourself the way that he sees you. though he’s always believed that may just scare you; knowing how deep his devotion really runs. things are fine as they are now.

well, mostly.

he has decided that he will retire from music completely, but the two of you can broach that topic when you’re in a better headspace for it. it’s been a long time coming. work keeps the money coming in, and he wants to spoil you but—he wants you to be happy, above all. you don’t really know what you’re asking for right now, but he has every intention of giving you exactly what it is you wished for.

he can’t give in when you beg to come along with him—but he can come and hide away next to you in this little pocket of the world that solely belongs to the two of you.

"you drive me to madness, my love. nothing about this life means anything if i can’t keep you happy.”

the two of you never had a white wedding; because he wanted to honour your union the right way and celebrate you as his culture deigned. so, yes, he never got to read you any vows, but he'd like to think you've come to know him well enough to understand he doesn't necessarily need to say something so sacred out loud for it to hold true.

"do you understand? i love you," he lowers his forehead against yours. “till death does us apart.”

you put your heart in his hands one more time, looking so small, so vulnerable beneath him. "you promise?"

"i promise," he closes his eyes and revels in the soft, sweeping feeling of your lashes fluttering against his own. "always and forever, meri jaan."

feroze loves you, of this he's certain.

he also knows that you fucking terrify him.

it's a small price to pay, if it means keeping you—

besides, he thinks, reaching once more for the contraceptive pills on the nightstand.

—marriage is all about compromise, is it not?

The Dragon's Hoard

dragon x princess

Cw: enemies to lovers, kidnapping, oral sex, coming untouched, depression, blood

Word count: 9k

A million thanks to the lovely @marigoldendragon for doing art for this, it's all lovely, go give them all the love in the world!!!

The window of her carriage was closed. She’d long since grown tired of the endless trees as the carriage bumped and jostled her around on her way through the foliage. 

There was nothing to do on her travels. She couldn’t play any games, with no place to put any cards without them sliding away with the rocking of the carriage. She’d discovered reading was not in the cards either as waves of nausea washed over her when she’d tried. 

She couldn’t help but feel for the decoys that had been sent out alongside her, to confuse outsiders. At least she was being moved to keep her safe. They were being stuck in identical carriages to protect a princess they’d never met, likely also bored out of their minds. 

So she was left alone, fighting off the ever present motion sickness, shut in the dark. 

And then chaos broke out outside. 

It felt almost as if she’d wished it, so bored that her wandering mind wanted something, anything, to break up the monotony, 

She’d never unwished something so quickly. 

The sounds of battle echoed through the thick walls, intended to keep her safe from any incoming dangers. She lifted her hands to cover her ears as the clanging of metal against metal was overrun by screams and horrible, wet noises of steel on flesh. 

And then everything quieted. It felt very sudden. The clanging of metal disappearing was a welcome change but she hated to imagine what had caused the immediate cessation of their screaming without so much as a word being spoken. 

Before she could so much as move, the door swung open.

A man stood in the doorway, backlit by the sun, and he looked down at her where she’d fallen onto the floor without so much as noticing. He was a rugged looking, scruffy sort of man. His face was calm and he seemed unmarred by the battle. He didn’t move nor speak, just observed her from the entrance to the carriage.

The longer he stood there, the more disconcerting things she noticed about him. Most importantly, she’d never seen him before and he was not wearing the colors of her knights. 

He seemed disheveled, certainly. His clothes were askew but other than that, the battle seemingly hadn’t affected him. Not only was he unwounded, she realized, but he had no blood on him at all, his or otherwise. 

As she peeked between his legs to the scene outside, it became even more disconcerting. The floor of the forest was painted red. He was clearly the only survivor, a pile of bodies littered across the ground, both in her kingdom's colors and bandits gear, in dark greens and browns to hide amongst the trees. 

In what should have been good news but instead simply seemed even more disorienting, this stranger was not wearing bandits attire either. Instead, he seemed to be wearing a random selection of clothes, none of which fit together. His shirt was too big, a little torn at the side, with puffed sleeves. His pants looked to be jesters pants, split down the middle with bright colors on either side. His shoes didn’t even match, the left closer to a sandal, wrapping halfway up his calf, while the other was a short, sturdy boot.  

He stuck his hand out to her and she nervously eyed it, like her willingly taking it would put her in any more danger than she was already in.

“What do you want?” she asked, standing up on her own and dusting off her skirts, trying her best to keep her gaze locked on him and away from the bodies on the floor. 

“Me?” he said, like there was anyone else she could be speaking to. “I just came out to see the carriage, honest. There were rumors that there was a royal carriage coming through. We know about the decoys, had heard of all the identical carriages and charades because of that dragon but a royal carriage is a sight to see, even if it doesn’t look quite as grand as they normally do, and even if there is a little pretender inside. Everyone else ran when the bandits came but I couldn’t just leave. I’m not much of a fighter so I hid but then your knights lost and there were only a few bandits left so I did the best I could. I got lucky, I suppose. Didn’t take much to kill some unsuspecting, injured men.”

“So you killed them.”

He looked at her, brows furrowed. “Did you not want me to? I’m sorry if you didn’t, it just didn’t seem right, leaving you to fend for yourself like that.”

It sounded reasonable. They tried to keep her nondescript but she was well aware that very few people were traveling through the woods in fully covered carriages, of course it would draw suspicion from people who noticed them. There were other carriages traveling without her in them, to try and spread suspicion across them all, but she was sure each of them had drawn similar attention. 

She looked down at all the bodies of the men she’d known for years, had grown up alongside, and of the ones who had been after her. She wondered what they would have done with her if they’d won, if this stranger hadn’t come along and finished them off. Would they even have recognized her for who she was? She supposed now she’d never know.

“Thank you,” she said, voice shaking as her eyes remained locked on the bodies, unable to force them away. 

And then a warm hand covered her eyes. She tried to pull away but it held her firm and steady, the sight in front of her diligently hidden away. 

“You’ll make yourself sick,” he said from right behind her. “I’m going to take my hand away, just don’t look, I’ll lead you out.”

She took a deep breath, steadying herself as her vision came back, the stranger's hand falling to take hers as she let her eyes fall shut. 

She stepped forward with his guidance, a wet noise sounding as her foot hit the ground. 

A sob escaped her throat as the faces of all her men ran through her head, wondering which of their corpses she’d just desecrated. 

And then she was being lifted unceremoniously from the ground. He immediately began moving faster, no longer hindered by leading her blindly through a battlefield. 

He walked for long enough that she knew he wasn’t only getting her through the battlefield but far away from it. She didn’t open her eyes even when she knew they must be far from it simply because if she opened her eyes she would have to confront the fact that a strange man was carrying her. 

Eventually, she felt herself being slowly and carefully lowered and, as her feet touched solid ground once more, she opened her eyes. 

“Where were you heading?” he asked as he gently placed her down, hand lingering around her waist for a moment to ensure she didn’t drop to the ground like dead weight. 

He pulled away when she managed to stand and she was embarrassed that her only answer was a shrug. “They didn’t tell me. They just said somewhere safe.”

“Well,” he said with a smile, “luckily I know some safe places, though I doubt it’ll be the same one.”

“Where?” she asked cautiously. 

“Local village. Has some of the kingdom's knights there, I’m sure they’ll know what to do.”

“Right.” It sounded fine. It wasn’t like she had many better options. 

He started walking and she tentatively followed him. He turned backwards as he walked, so he could face her and move at the same time. It did not give her confidence in his navigation skills that he wasn’t even bothering to look forwards. “Not that you’ll answer me honestly, but are you a decoy or the real princess?”

She couldn’t tell him the truth, she knew that much. It would be monumentally stupid. “I think I’m supposed to say I’m the princess but at this point it seems we are a little beyond that.”

He chuckled. “It seems we are. Do you have a name, not princess?”

She pulled the first name she could think of, that of her handmaiden. “Phillipa.”

“Lovely name,” he said with a smile. “Much better than Princess Ophelia. Less stuffy, certainly.”

She nodded, trying her best not to show her displeasure at the comment. She quite liked her name. 

“I don’t think you should speak ill of our princess like that,” she said in a measured tone.

He shrugged. “Maybe not.”

“And you? It’s not fair to exchange names only one way.”

“Kadrin.”

“Oh. I’ve never met someone with that name before.”

He shrugged. “I was born outside the country. What, you’ve never met someone who wasn’t from Aplor?”

“I have,” Ophelia huffed. “Just not with that name. Where are you from?”

“Far away. That’s all you need to know.”

It was a rude sentiment, certainly, but she allowed it to pass, not wanting to push the only friendly face she had left. 

They moved in silence after that, her questions having seemingly ruined the amiable conversation. 

It became evident fairly quickly that he was going to take her up a mountain. 

She was in heavy skirts and had no desire to climb the winding path on the rocky mountain, but she didn’t seem to have many other options. 

“Is this really the only way to this town?” she asked as she almost tripped again, skirts gathered up in her hands. 

“It is,” he said, his tone more curt than it had been before. He was staying a few steps ahead of her now, not providing any sort of help. “It won’t take long though.”

The horrible silence that had begun to fall over them couldn’t be blamed on her, at least not entirely. She tried to make conversation as they walked, wracking her brain for things to talk about with this near stranger she was lying to. “May I ask what the clothes are about?”

“I go through clothes quickly,” he grumbled, less light-hearted about the topic than she had hoped. “It’s hard to find enough.”

And that was the end to her attempt at conversation. It seemed he was perfectly willing to talk on his own, but any attempt from her to strike something up was quickly shut down. 

The mountain was largely barren. She could see the harsh surface as they climbed higher and higher, no more trees to block her path. 

And then, as they climbed and wrapped around the mountain, she looked down and saw the path they had climbed thusfar, winding around and around, going up and up and up. 

And it was the only path she saw. No other path winding back down the mountain, nowhere else to go as they circled the pillar of rock and dirt. 

So there was no town. This much was clear to her now, as they climbed still upwards with no way down. She was a fool to believe him at all, this stranger who had offered her salvation. Why would he have her best interest in mind? It was a stupid mistake, one she hoped would not cost her her life. 

Kadrin spoke up again, sounding chipper, completely unaware of her inner turmoil. “What were you running from again? Or, rather, what was the princess running from? I suppose you were just collateral.”

“A dragon,” she muttered, trying to mimic her tone from before so she wouldn’t alert him to her realization, desperately trying to come up with a plan for escape. 

“A dragon? I’ve never seen a dragon, are they really real?”

“They aren’t common,” she said, the lines of her body tense, moving even more slowly up the mountain to put more distance between the two of them than her struggle up the mountain had already established. “My father made a deal with one years ago. Now it wants me.”

“You?” he said, stopping and turning to face her. “Well, that doesn't make any sense. Why would some deal mean he was coming after you?”

“It was part of the deal,” she muttered, her gait slowing to an almost complete stop. 

“Part of the deal? Well this doesn’t seem fair then. You running. Or, her running, I mean. If you were promised to him. She. If she was promised to him.”

She had no logical plan of escape, there was no good way out of this. So instead, she turned on her heels, and she began to run. 

There was no way she could make it out, could run faster than him. She knew that, but she at least had to try. 

As she moved, half running and half tumbling down the steep stone, she chanced a look behind her and saw that Kadrin wasn’t giving chase. He was just standing behind her, arms crossed, watching her run.

Relief ran through her for a second before, with her head turned, her pounding feet misstepped and she found herself tumbling off the edge of the path.

It was too far of a fall, down the sheer face of what could only be described as a cliff. The only thing she could feel was fear, wondering if she should have just stayed and taken her chances with this bizarre stranger. 

A roar sounded above her and before she could process it, talons were closing around her shoulders. 

She looked up and found herself in the clutches of the very dragon she’d been running from, cursing herself for being this stupid. 

They flew over a familiar pile of mismatched clothes, torn to shred on the ground, flying right past them as they soared towards the top of the mountain. 

“Let me go,” she called out, struggling inside harsh talons that didn’t so much as budge at her movements. “This isn’t fair.”

“Fair?” he snarled. His voice was recognizable from what it had been, but with a distinct rumbling growl underlying it now. “You know what isn’t fair? Going back on a deal the second it’s time to pay up.”

He soared into a cave and dropped her unceremoniously to the floor. 

“You’re him,” she said with a gasp as she fell to the ground. 

“You are brilliant, aren’t you?” he said, his tone cruel and mocking. 

As she tried to stand, she stumbled, the ground unsteady under her feet. 

And then, she managed to draw her eyes off of the dragon for a moment to look down. She found that she was not, in fact, standing on the ground, but instead on a massive pile of gold and gems. 

“And you,” he said with a snarl, “are not a decoy.”

“Well, I guess we’re both liars,” she huffed.

“You more than I. I’m just using the tactics your kind pioneered. I am a man of my word, I think you’ll find. But now you’re here, as promised, and there is no more reason to lie. Everything is as it should be.”

“As it should be?” she cried out. “I didn’t ask for this. I wasn’t even alive when this deal was made. It’s not fair.”

“Perhaps not. But you’re here now, and you will not be going anywhere.”

He shifted in front of her, moving a boulder she hadn’t even noticed in the corner of the cave until it was right in front of the entrance, sealing her inside. 

“It’s been a long day,” said the creature, his low voice feeling almost mocking. “You should get some rest.”

She hated that he was right. She was exhausted, her limbs feeling heavy and her brain moving slower than she was accustomed to. The adrenaline was wearing off, unable to carry her for this long, despite her still clearly being in danger. 

So she sat on the gold, the creature curling up around the massive pile of treasure. Around her.

It was deeply uncomfortable, the various pieces of hard metal digging into her skin through layers of skirts. 

She moved, careful not to shift too suddenly and frighten the hulking creature encircling her, and climbed carefully over his tail in an attempt to sit on the cool cave floor. She curled up on the ground as soon as she reached it. She’d certainly never slept on the floor before but it was far better than the harsh edges of the treasure. 

And then cold talons wrapped around her and she was being lifted again before being unceremoniously dropped atop the gold once more. 

“I can’t sleep up here,” she said, knowing it was a bad idea to complain about her comfort to her captor but unable to restrain herself. “It’s too uncomfortable. I’ll take the floor if I must, just please, not up here.”

“You will learn,” he said, his voice low and threatening.

No matter how she positioned herself, it was awful. If she had been any less tired, she would have laid awake on the treasure endlessly. 

But as it stood, she was half convinced she could fall asleep on a bed of nails, and as such she found herself nodding off, despite the sharp pains of the cool metal below her. 

Before she knew it, she was awakening again, sore from the pieces of gold that had been poking into her side through the night, to the feeling of wind blowing over her. 

As she opened her eyes, she realized the wind was from the flapping of wings overtop her, the dragon flying in from outside. 

And then, with a thud that echoed through the treasure, something was unceremoniously dropped beside her. 

She turned to see a bed, one that had clearly been stolen from someone’s home. The blankets and pillows were awry from the flight and it had seemingly lost a pillow or two on the journey here. 

“There,” he said, curling up around the gold once more. “Now you can stop complaining.”

She should have made a break for it while he’d been gone, she’d slept through what could be her only chance at escape. 

It didn’t make real sense but she felt she couldn’t sleep in the bed, like that would be giving into her captor, letting him win. It was a matter of pride. 

She did not fall asleep again that night, wallowing on his piles of riches. 

But as the sun began to rise and peek through the cracks in the entrance to the cave, she thought maybe there was some use to the bed. 

And so she pulled at the misshapen covers and curled up underneath them, covering her head completely. 

And there she stayed, tucked away, blocking out the world as much as she could. So long as she couldn’t leave, what else was there to do?

She wasn’t sure how long passed like that. She was fairly sure she drifted in and out of consciousness but it was hard to tell, the whole world filtered through anger and exhaustion and thick brown blankets smothering any light that had snuck in through cracks in the stone. 

And then the blankets were being pulled from atop her. She stayed adamantly still, curled up in a ball, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. 

She heard him snarl above her head and fought back a flinch. A cold, hard claw poked at her and still she stayed, head tucked against her knees. 

And then he grumbled and left her alone, the blanket being haphazardly dropped atop her. 

It continued on like that for who knows how long. Every now and then, how long there was between she had no way of knowing, he would check in on her. It started out with him being frustrated, angry even. Every few times he’d spew vitriol at her, things like, “Is keeping your word really this abhorrent to you,” and “You simply cannot be this weak.”

But then the remarks began to shift. His pokes and prods got softer, the placement of the blanket more precise. 

And then something seemed to shift in the air and his responses stopped completely for what felt like an eternity. She’d begun to ache, lying there like that, still, motionless. Part of her wanted to stretch but that felt like letting him win. 

The position began to feel more necessary as hunger began to take over her, an awful cramping taking over her stomach. At least it was minimized by the fetal position, curled up on herself in a way that had begun to feel almost natural. 

She’d starve there, she realized. She was going to die in this bed. There was no other way about it. 

And then the irritating talon returned, poking her through the blankets this time. “You need to eat,” he said, the low rumble of his voice practically resonating in her bones. 

She said nothing. She had already resolved herself to her fate. There was nothing for her here, it was better this way. There was no way out. At least this way he wouldn’t get to play with her, there’d be no chance for him to do whatever this monster had planned for her. 

She felt him huff, his breath wafting warm air over her.

And then she felt a shift, the gold the bed was resting on moving as his weight changed.

A human body sat on the bed beside her. 

“Please,” he said, his voice softer than she remembered it being. She almost hated him more for it, for trying to sound comforting as her kidnapper. “You’re going to make yourself sick.”

“I’m going to make myself dead,” she said, her first words in a long time, her voice cracking over the effort of forcing them out. “So you won’t be able to get any sick satisfaction out of me.”

She felt him reel back at her words and wonder what it was that had done it, her harsh tone or the idea of him losing his brand new toy. 

“Is that really what you want? You’d rather die than be here?” He sounded sad and it made the anger rise even further in her. How dare he ask that, act like she had any other option. 

And then his presence was gone and she heard the shift, gold spilling onto the floor as he grew back to his true size. 

And then, with a horrible grinding noise, the boulder in front of the door was shifted. 

She didn’t fall for it. She knew if she ran he’d be after her, could catch her in a second. So she stayed, curled up tight, a horrible dread sitting in her stomach. 

“Please look at me,” he said, his voice low and frightening again in his true form, but undeniably sad. It shouldn’t have gotten through to her. It was so obviously a trick, but something about it tugged at some emotion inside her and she shifted to peek out from where she was hiding her head. 

He was lying on the floor, head pressed against the ground and wings tucked against him. It was clear to her that he was trying to look non threatening, for what reason she could not fathom. 

“Would you prefer my other form?” he asked, shifting a little uncomfortably as he spoke. “I don’t want to frighten you.”

“No,” she spat. “I don’t enjoy being lied to.”

“Right. Can we talk? I have been unfair to you, I fear. Blamed you for sins that are not your own.”

Her nose scrunched up. “What sins? What could you possibly blame me for?”

“What did your father tell you about us?”

She shrugged. “Everything. All of it, how you started destroying everything, how he had to give me up to stop you, how there was no other way if he wanted the kingdom to survive, to stop the senseless violence.”

He sighed. “Dragons were peaceful creatures, once. I’d say we still are, though I’m sure many would disagree. We were sought after though. Our scales are almost impenetrable, an invaluable resource. Your father figured that out and simply could not bear to let that resource go to waste. He decimated our population, my family, my parents and brothers and sisters. I am not a destructive force but I was left with nothing else, nothing to do but get revenge. Your father took my family, it was only fair that I get his in return. I can’t send you back, I can't let him have that victory. Not after everything. But I don’t want to cause you pain. I have no quarrel with you. I can provide for you, care for you. I know this isn’t what you wanted but it doesn’t have to be the way it has been.”

“You’re a liar,” she spat at him. “My father wouldn’t do that.”

“No?” he asked. “So you’ve seen no dragon scales then, scattered around, built into armour and displayed proudly. The skin of my loved ones, where do you think he got that? And if dragons are so very violent, how did he get it in the first place? No, we are peaceful and he slaughtered us. I was turned violent, he turned me violent.” His words got louder and louder until he was snarling out the words by the end of his speech. 

She couldn’t help but flinch, pulling back into herself at the malice in his tone. “I don’t-” she stammered out. “I can’t-”

His body language shifted instantly, hard lines of tensed muscles softening. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I just wanted you to understand. I take no joy in your misery but I cannot let you go, not after everything he has done. But that doesn’t mean I need to lock you away like some criminal. I will make this as pleasant for you as I am able.”

She shifted in her seat. She did not want to be miserable. She supposed no one ever did. Who was it helping, really? Her wallowing in this awful bed, starving herself, would aid no one. Her father would never know it, her kingdom would miss her no less as a corpse. “Fine,” she said. “If you’re willing to try then I suppose I am too.”

A sigh escaped him, one of relief if she had to guess. She wondered if the state she’d been in had really been weighing on him or if she had just been an inconvenience. 

“If you’d like to start somewhere,” she said. “I could really use some food.”

He nodded, turned, and left, flying off into the distance. 

She watched him go, knowing there was no use in running. He could travel so much faster than her and see so much farther, there was nowhere she could go in the next few minutes where he couldn’t find her. Better him think her complacent, perhaps fall into a false sense of security. Then she could make a real attempt at an escape. 

He returned fairly quickly, though it was still immensely difficult to tell time here in this stupid cave, even with the sun in sight. The shadows were all wrong, harsh and unfamiliar against the cold walls of the cave. 

As he returned, his wings stirring up the typically still air hidden away in the rocks, he dropped talons full of fruits and breads and pastries at her feet, them immediately getting dirty on the cave floor. Hooked into one of his claws was also a full bucket of water, so at the very least she could clean the fruit, though the bread at the bottom of the pile may be a lost cause. 

“Will this do?” he asked, looking at her eagerly.

“I suppose,” she said, lifting some of it off the filthy ground as quickly as she could. 

He stared at her expectantly and she refused to dignify the look with a thank you. “Are you going to eat?”

He stared at her. “I can’t like this?”

“What?”

“In this form, I can’t eat anything but meat.”

“Can you leave then? Or at least shift into your other form. I’d rather not eat in front of you while you stare at me.”

And then he began to shift. It was the first time she had seen him change. It was an odd affair, less frightening that she would have guessed. Where she had expected to see something horribly frightening, this was fairly seamless, his dragon scales seeming to melt off of him, sinking into the ground below him and leaving a man standing before her. A man who, she quickly realized, was entirely nude. 

“Goodness gracious!” she said, her hand flying up to cover her eyes. It did no good, the image of his bare form was seared into her mind. “Can you put some clothes on?”

“Right,” he said with a huff, his human voice returning. “I always forget about your hang ups about nudity. It really isn’t such a big deal. And it is so irritating. I tear the clothes I’m wearing every time I shift and I have to keep finding new ones constantly. Such a grating tradition. If I had my way, I’d be rid of them entirely.”

Her spare hand, the one not being used to protect her propriety as best she could, reached down to clutch her skirt defensively. “You will do no such thing. Speaking of, I need new dresses. Nice ones, if you may.”

“Where am I supposed to find nice dresses?” he whined as she heard the shuffling that hopefully signified him putting on clothes. “I’m a dragon, they don’t exactly let me into stores.”

“So shift!” she said. “Go buy them. I am a princess, I need more than one dress.”

He groaned. “With what money should I buy these dresses, princess.”

If she’d been able to look at him, she would have shot him an exasperated look.  “You have me sleeping on a pile of gold, what do you mean with what money? You have nothing but money.”

“You mean my hoard? I can’t give up my hoard, are you insane?”

She scoffed. “Why does it matter, it’s not like you’re using it for anything.”

“Not using it for anything? I’m using it for being my hoard! It’s a very important job.”

She had half a mind to stop talking to him once again. “Whatever. Do what you’d like.”

“I will. You can open your eyes, by the way.”

Once again, he looked absurd, dressed in a horribly mismatched set of clothes. “You look like a madman,” she said, picking up the half forgotten bread she’d selected and taking a bite. 

“Do you want me to eat with you or not?” he asked with a huff. 

She gestured graciously towards the pile of food and he sat beside her and began to tear into it. 

He was a horribly messy eater but she figured that was a battle not worth fighting. 

“You could at least give me stuff for my hair,” she said, reaching up to touch her unruly curls. “I know it’s unsightly, I’m sure you’re tired of looking at it. I appreciate you not mentioning it, I really do, but I know it can’t be fun to be forced to look at it day in and day out.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Who told you that?”

“What?”

“Who’s been calling your hair unsightly?”

“What do you mean who? Everyone has, everyone since I was old enough to have hair.”

His nostrils flared, a puff of hot air wafting over her. “If you’d like to give me names I can deal with that.”

“What?” she practically squeaked. “Deal with- What does that mean?”

“Kill them. I don’t take kindly to people insulting beautiful things in my hoard.”

“Beautiful. You think I’m… wait, in your hoard? I’m not a part of your hoard!” she squeaked out. 

“Yes you are. You sleep there,” he said, sounding confused. 

“I am not an object.”

His head tilted to the side. “I never said you were.”

“I am not some piece of treasure you can hoard, how dare you.”

“Not a piece of treasure, no, but valuable. Priceless. And here, in my den. I don’t see how you could be anything but part of my hoard.”

“Valuable? Valuable as what, a tool of revenge? A bargaining chip? I am just an incidental victim in a war between you and my father, I do not appreciate the value that gives me.”

He shifted uncomfortably. “That’s not all you are.”

“What?”

“I was pursuing revenge all those years ago, I’ll admit that much. But it's been so many years and I’m the only one left. It’s been very lonely.”

“So I am also valuable because I am the first person who’s been willing to speak to you in decades? And you had to kidnap me to do it.”

“I didn’t kidnap you, we made a deal.”

“We did nothing, I think you will find. You made a deal with someone before I was even born that I had no say in. I think I will eat the rest of this meal alone, thank you so much for your kindness,” she spat out, scooping up a few pieces of food and stumbling her way back to her bed.

He was gone for hours after and she was more than content to eat her pastries in bed and very much alone. 

When he returned, he dropped a piece of fabric on her bed, one that looked suspiciously like a dress. 

“It’s for you,” he said, nudging it towards her. 

“Most people apologize with their words, you know,” she said with a huff

“Apologies, princess. It’s been some time since I’ve spoken to anyone, let alone apologized.”

“Have you really been alone all these years?” she asked, fighting to keep any sympathy out of her voice. 

“I tried to use my… less threatening form on occasion, go into the villages. It did little to stave off the loneliness, talking to people I know would try and kill me, should they know what I was. I gave up on that a long time ago, resigned myself to this life. I’ll see my people again in the next one.”

“Right. That sounds… unpleasant.”

“It does. I’m afraid it may help explain my behavior towards you, though. I’m deeply unaccustomed to having guests.”

“A guest.” She scoffed. “Is that what I am?”

“It’s what I’d like you to be,” he said, sounding almost nervous.

“I’m afraid that’s not possible, certainly not when I cannot leave.”

“I will still try my best,” he said, avoiding her gaze. “At the very least, to not make your stay unpleasant. As I have told you, I have no quarrel with you.”

“And yet I am the one being caged.”

He sighed, dropping the dress on her bed and turning away from her. 

She leaned forwards to grab it, not wanting to let the only available change of clothes out of her sight. It was beautiful, the fabric soft and silky and glinting in the light. It also looked almost perfectly her size, which she had no idea how he managed, especially when his own clothes were so often misshapen and ill fitting. 

“Where did you find this?” she asked, running her hands along the smooth fabric. “It’s beautiful.”

“I bought it,” he said, turning back to her, a smug aura beginning to drift off of him.

“You… With your hoard? But you said you could never?”

“Well, I figured you’re part of my hoard now, so as long as it’s for you it's alright.” He sounded almost sheepish. 

“I am no such thing, but I appreciate it nonetheless. Thank you,” she said, and then leaned over to press a kiss atop his snout before moving off to change. 

“Can you turn around,” she called back to him, turning to see him completely frozen in place, his eyes almost looking a bit crossed, like he was trying to look at his own snout. 

Her words seemed to snap him out of it, head jerking up a little before he turned with a quiet, “Right, of course.”

She got dressed as quickly as she could, eager to show him. “Turn around,” she said, swaying her hips a little to see the movement of the fabric. “Isn’t it lovely!”

He stared at her, pupils blown wide. “Yes. Lovely.”

She grinned, giving him a twirl in the dress, the soft fabric billowing around her legs as she spun. 

The more time that passed, the calmer things became. She’d stopped refusing to take care of herself, and more than that stopped refusing to take gifts from Kadrin. She figured so long as she was here, she might as well try and enjoy herself. 

As soon as she gave herself permission to be happy here, it was like things began to fall into place. It was nice here, if she forgot their rocky beginning and how she’d found herself living in this cave. 

Despite earlier protests about using his hoard to buy her things, Kadrin seemed to have no issue with it now, running off to get her whatever she requested at a moment’s notice. She’d acquired a massive pile of books, a deck of cards, and her own small wardrobe of clothes, far more than her dragon had. She’d even managed to convince him to get her a small embroidery kit, one that she thanked him for by embroidering flowers along the collar of one of his nicer shirts. 

He began wearing that one a lot after that, though it never did seem to end up ripped to pieces like the rest of his clothes did in the midst of his transformations

He on occasion would say unusual things, though she wasn’t quite sure if they were attributable to him being a dragon or if he was just strange. 

Though he kept getting her dresses, he would occasionally push the issue, insisting that she didn’t need clothes, after all he didn’t wear any and dragons don’t care about that sort of thing. 

Even if he didn’t care about propriety, she was not a fool and caught the mischief in his voice, staring at him before asking, “Are you trying to see me naked?”

He answered no a bit too fast for it to sound convincing and never pushed the issue again, though she did catch him angrily staring at her dresses a few times.

For all intents and purposes, aside from some minor jabs, he seemed obsessed with making her happy and comfortable here, and it was working. 

One day he returned with some more gifts for her in his talons, his shirt also tucked beneath his claws, not ripped and abandoned like most of his clothes, and he got an odd look on his face, staring down at her where she lay, reading in her bed, some new romance novel he’d gotten her a week ago. 

“Would you like to go outside?” he asked, and she sat up immediately, eyes widening. 

“Can I?” she asked, sounding almost breathless. 

He nodded. “I didn’t even think about it, you should have asked me sooner.”

She cocked her head to the side, staring at him like he’d lost his mind. “I didn’t think I was allowed. I am a prisoner here.”

Sadness flashed through his eyes, darting quickly away from her. “You can ask for anything,” he said, his voice soft, or at least as soft as it could be in his dragon form. “Now come on, let’s go.”

She stepped hesitantly towards him, unsure how exactly he was planning on transporting her down the mountain. 

His talons closed around her shoulders and before she could even process it, her feet were lifting off the ground and she was being flown. Her heart skipped a beat as she looked down at the ground far below her and she reached up to try and hold onto his talons as they flew. 

She shut her eyes, trusting Kadrin to get them there and not wanting to see just how high up they were any longer. 

Before she knew it, her feet were touching down on solid ground. She collapsed to the ground as soon as Kadrin’s talon’s released her, feeling the grass against her skin. 

“This is amazing,” she said with a smile, feeling the sun beating down on her face. “Thank you for taking me out here.”

He did not seem pleased by her enjoyment. Instead he looked more devastated than anything, staring down at her with sad eyes. “You should have asked to come out sooner, I would have given it to you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Stop thinking about that. Now that I know I can, trust me, we’ll come out here a lot. Oh, do you know any fields with flowers? I could bring them back to the den, it would be lovely.”

He nodded, though his mind was clearly elsewhere. “I can get you flowers. I always would have gotten you flowers. I just didn’t know.”

She scrunched her nose up. “Can you stop being so strange? We are having a nice day out, don’t you ruin this for me with this bizarre mood you’re in.”

He did his best, trying and failing to conceal how upset he was.

To Ophelia’s dismay, this mood continued on long after their day out. He only grew more distant as time passed, still bringing her gifts but with few comments this time, barely so much as speaking to her. 

And then, after nearly a week of being practically ignored, when she was close to snapping and yelling at him, he came to her. 

He still was melancholy, his tail practically tucked between his legs. He avoided her gaze as he spoke, keeping his head down. “I think you should go.”

“What?” she cried out, wondering what she could have done to be sent away like this. 

“You should go home,” he said, his voice low. “I can’t stand the thought of you feeling imprisoned here, the idea that I’m making you miserable. I’ve been trying and I thought you were fine but then you didn’t ask to go outside like you were a prisoner and I can’t imagine how many other things you’re missing out on because I’ve trapped you here. I don’t know how I could’ve been so delusional to think you’re happy here. I kidnapped you, took you from your family, of course you couldn’t be happy. It’s about time I stopped deluding myself.”

She furrowed her brows. “What about your revenge? And your people?”

“Your happiness is more important than my revenge. I want to find another way to get that revenge but he’s your father. Anything I can think of would hurt you too and I don’t know if I could stomach that, not now. Not after all this.”

“And so what, you’ll just go back to being alone again?”

“Don’t worry about me. I was fine for decades, I will be fine now.”

“You’re not fine. You’re miserable.”

“Better than it being you. I can stand to be miserable, I cannot stand to watch you become everything that killed me for so long, watch you be the one taken from your people, you be the one stuck alone.”

“I’m not alone,” she said with a huff. “I’m with you.”

“It’s not enough.”

She paused, thinking through her words carefully before speaking, thinking about the food and the dresses, thinking about how he never seemed to mind her making a mess or the wild curls in her hair, thinking about how he was so eager to please her and how the thought of her being miserable here was enough for him to give up on this mission of his he’d held longer than she’d been alive. And then she said, “There is a way to get revenge without hurting me.”

He huffed. “And what exactly would that be?”

“You could just keep me,” she said with a shrug. 

“No,” he said, with a firm shake of his head. “I told you, you need to be with your people, I can’t be selfish and…Wait, what do you mean that wouldn’t hurt you?”

“I don’t know, it’s safe here. You take care of me, you don’t judge me. I’m happier here than I ever was in court or in my room as my handmaidens desperately try to tame my hair or when suitors turn me down for having too many thoughts to be a suitable wife. I don’t know, there’s worse places to be. And besides, you’re here, and against my better judgment, I think I would miss you terribly. ”

And then, his scales began to melt, a familiar human form appearing from the shifting black mass, pacing over to her and grabbing her, hands cupping her cheeks and pulling her close to him, lips pressing to hers. 

Her hands rose to his face, holding him close. 

She’d never been kissed before but she’d certainly imagined it, especially lately with all the romance books Kadrin had been getting her. Only then, with his lips against hers and his hand on the small of her back, his skin warm against her, did she admit to herself that she’d perhaps been imagining a certain dragon whilst reading the romance novels. Even the steamier ones. 

But not quite like this. 

“Wait,” she said, barely pulling away from the kiss to speak, still practically pressed against him. 

He pulled back, almost breathless. “This is too fast,” he said, pupils blown wide. “You’re a princess, you’ve never done anything like this before, I’m so sorry.”

“No,” she said, scrunching up her nose. “I’m a big girl, I can take it. Besides, I don’t have to worry about court propriety anymore, they’ll never see me again. I just… I don’t want you to look like this, I want you to be you. At least this first time. That is, if you’re amenable.”

He looked incredibly nervous at the suggestion. “Right. We can certainly try, but the last thing I ever want is to hurt you and I fear I’m quite a bit… bigger in my other form.”

She smiled at him. “Nothing stopping us from trying.”

“Certainly not.” And then he began to shift, shoulders broadening and scales seeping back through his skin. 

He was a sight to behold. She regretted that it had taken her so long to appreciate it, having spent so long being afraid of him. She should have seen sooner just how beautiful he was. 

She rose up onto the tips of her toes and he sunk his head down to meet her. As soon as he was within reach, she pressed a kiss onto his snout. “Kissing is certainly harder without lips,” she said, eyes raking over his face, really taking him in. 

“I wouldn’t say that,” his low voice rumbled, and then he leaned forwards and licked right up the side of her face. 

She squealed, pulling back a little on instinct before leaning back into him. “You have to warn me next time.”

“If you want me to warn you, you shouldn’t make cute sounds like that,” he said, and she could feel the rumble of his voice running through her. 

And then, as he stopped speaking, the rumble remained and her mouth fell open. “Oh my god, are you purring?”

He shrunk back a little, clearly embarrassed. “It happens when I’m happy sometimes, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.”

“Don’t you dare apologize, that’s adorable.”

He let out a little groan. “I’m not adorable, I am ferocious and horrifying and for very special princesses, occasionally handsome. Never adorable.”

She giggled into the scales on his neck, pressing closer to feel it more strongly. “Sorry, you don’t get to make that call, I do. And I say you’re adorable.”

“We’ll see about that,” he said, before knocking her back into the pile of gold they were standing on, shifting over her so he was pinning her down, a playful look in his eyes. 

Her eyes darted downwards and widened as she saw his arousal, evident in the way his dick, usually absent in his dragon form, had emerged from somewhere inside him. 

She’d read about sex in her romance books too, although those women typically had more proportionate partners and she wasn’t exactly certain how much of that information she could transfer to dragons. 

“It might take a while. To get me ready for.. you know,” she said, face flushing bright red as she gestured vaguely at his lower half. 

He tsked at her softly. “Not this time, little one. I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”

“Then what…” she stopped as he flipped her skirts up, his claws closing around her legs and he gently pulled them open. 

She’d been forgoing her bloomers most of the time she’d been here. There was no real reason to wear them, it wasn’t like she was riding or doing something dangerous and Kadrin so often forgot to bring new pairs, regardless of how many dresses he bought her. 

She wasn’t sure if she was pleased or upset at this fact as he revealed her core to him. He certainly seemed pleased, if the increase in the volume of his purring was any indication. 

“You’re enjoying this rather too much, I think,” she declared to him. 

He let out something resembling a laugh, low and rumbling. “Is that not the point?”

She shuffled where she sat, mildly uncomfortable in how exposed she felt. “Perhaps.”

He shushed her softly, echoes of a laugh present in his voice, and murmured, “Don’t be nervous, I promise I’ll take care of you.”

His head began to delve under her skirts, his face disappearing from her view. It was nerve wracking this way, not being able to see him, hoping she was doing everything right.  Her mind flew through all the books she’d read, trying to figure out what she was supposed to do, how to make this work. 

And then she felt a soft lick on her thigh and suddenly, she wasn’t thinking quite so much anymore. She squirmed, something warm building in her stomach at the sensation, unsure if she wanted to shift away to gather herself or to shift closer to him. Instead, she found herself simply writhing on the floor as another gentle lick from a broad tongue fell, even further up her thigh. 

A surprised little squeak escaped her and she heard a chuckle sound in response before a third lick was placed, this one right at her core. 

It was a light touch, almost teasing in nature, but it felt so good. She could feel a dampness between her thighs entirely separate from the hot wet tongue that had begun lapping at her. Instinctually she went to close her thighs, to try and abate this growing need that was building, but Kadrin’s head blocked her path, forcing her legs open. 

The soft, gentle licks commenced for some time, teasing and soft but building that warmth inside her that she’d never felt the likes of before. And then, with no warning, the tongue began to push inside. 

An odd noise escaped her, something strange and loud. It certainly didn’t seem attractive to her, but Kadrin seemed to enjoy it, redoubling his efforts, seeming to want to pull more odd noises from her. 

Her insecurities over the noises she was making faded quickly as he delved deeper inside, the sensation of him filling her so completely with his thick, hot tongue fighting off almost all thought. There was no room to be nervous or self conscious when she was bordering on brainlessness. 

The warmth in her began to build and build until she swore something inside her was about to break. Her squirming began again, unable to keep herself still under his attentions. She wasn’t sure what she would be warning him of exactly, but she felt the need to warn Kadrin of her current state. It was just so difficult to manage anything outside the pleasure consuming her now. 

She managed to squeak out, “I think…” before something inside her snapped and waves of pleasure went running through her, the likes of which she’d never felt before. All her muscles went taught and her vision got blurry, the gray roof of the cave fading out of focus.  

Kadrin dutifully worked her through it, his tongue shifting against her until the last waves of pleasure had washed over her and everything began to feel too much. Eventually, she huffed out a quiet, “I can’t take anymore,” that finally drew him out from under her skirts. 

As she panted heavily, lying, sated, on the floor, he laid his head on her torso. She found herself too content to complain about the weight.

And then she sat up with a start. “Oh goodness, I’ve forgotten about you.”

“There’s no need,” he said, shifting slightly above her. “I may have gotten… carried away, during.”

She broke out into a massive grin, looking down at him wide eyed. “You did?”

“Don’t get too smug, next time I’m going to make you do some work, mark my words. It’s not my fault you’re so pretty and soft and taste so good”

She let her head fall back with a giggle. “You’re absurd.”

No longer sufficiently distracted, she could now acutely feel the gold digging into her back. 

She clambered up to the bed, her legs a little shaky as she stood, a warm snout pushing into her back to help keep her upright until she managed to collapse into the sheets. 

And then warmth surrounded her, Kadrin curling up around the bed, the heat radiating off his scales blanketing her where she lay. 

She snuggled down into the blankets, although they were hardly needed with Kadrin’s body heat surrounding her, and drifted safely and happily to sleep. 

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry... I’ll be good I promise, I’ll change I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do. Please I can’t live without you, you’re my savior, my goddess please don’t throw me away I’ll die without you”

“I hate being alone, it’s so cold here without you. Not being able to see you scares me, I feel so uneasy. I exist for you, I won’t leave this room unless I’m with you, I won’t even talk to anyone b-but you are able to do those without me, because you don’t need me. I can smell other people whenever you come back to this room, I know I have no right to complain about such things but it breaks my heart I can’t help it. I exist for you, I breathe for you, I live for you. This worthless life belongs to you so please keep it, don’t throw it away don’t neglect it”

Cats getting caught doing crimes

Filled with Static...

Summary: Yuu was already fed up before coming to Playful Land and now that it's over... She has some very choice words for she has reached her boiling point...

Sorry in advance~

Yuu watches with hollow eyes as Fellow and Gidel depart without having to face the consequences of their actions. Everyone jokes around her about what they just went through, but static is rapidly and quickly filling Yuu's ears. She moves away from the group and makes her way down a street, unaware of the sound of footsteps behind her. A hand lands on her shoulder and she's quick to slap it off.

"Ow, rude much?"

Yuu turns to see Ace with his arms crossed. "What?"

"Just wanted to know why you took off like that."

"Why do you care?"

"Wow, jeez." Ace scoffed. "I knew you were snippy from the start, but I thought that would've cleared up. What's the big deal?"

"What's the big deal? What's the big deal!?" Her voice echoes throughout the small area of the docks. "Ace, are you fucking blind as well as a total fucking moron!?" She jabs her hand to where Playful Land used to be. "We almost got turned into puppets and sold off because of you guys!"

"Hey, we got out in the end!"

"No, we didn't. If Fellow hadn't gotten that phone call, we'd be goners." The others have stopped a few feet away, but Yuu ignores them. "And you're cracking jokes about it."

"Well, destroying the park was-"

"I mean about the whole thing, you brainless baboon." She snarls. "From the start, you ignored all the fucking warning signs that said you should stay far away from this man. Did Azul tricking you not ring any bells in that empty head of you?" She tapped her finger against Ace's forehead. "And even when you were told that the warning signs were blaring red, you still ignored them."

"Hold on." Ace growled. "Why am I getting signaled out?"

"Oh it's not just you, Ace." She points behind him. "It goes double for those cacophony of idiots."

"Wow, rude, Yuu-chan..." Cater mutters.

"I get that you guys are like this. It's all fun and games to the ones who can use magic." She shakes her hand in a mocking way. "But this is just another scar on my body that I do not need." She pulls up her sleeves to show the overblot scars...as well as a new wooden looking scar on her wrist. "You guys think this is a joke, when it's not. You're risking my life with your guys shit."

"You came with us!" Ace argues.

"Cause I had to make sure my useless excuse for a fucking cat didn't keel over and die!" Yuu shouts and begins shoving Ace. "You. Treat. Me. Like. I'm. Expendable." She pushes him back. "I'm a living being too, jack ass, what I have done to warrant being treated lower than dirt? Every time this happens, and I almost lose my life in the process... how many more times is this going to be an almost before it actually happens?"

The red head narrows his eyes and snorts. "If you hate it here so much, why don't you just go back home?"

"Ace..." Lilia tries to say but is cut off by Yuu socking Ace in the face and sending him to the ground.

"NEWS FLASH, ASSHOLE!" The look in Yuu's eyes are murderous. "I'VE BEEN TRYING TOO! YOU GUYS CAN JUST CALL UP YOUR FAMILY OR SEND THEM A QUICK TEXT TO CHECK UP ON THEIR WELL BEING! YOU'RE A PORTAL AWAY FROM HOME! I HAVE NOTHING, I GOT NOTHING, I HAVE NO FAMILY HERE AND I AM REMINDED OF IT EVERY DAY BY YOU GUYS AND BY CROWLEY!" Tears well up in her eyes. "I've had it here. I'm gone. I'm leaving NRC, I'm getting far away from you guys." She turns to leave and rubs her eyes. "Enjoy the rest of your fucking lives."

"Yuu-chan!"

"Shrimpy!"

"Herbivore, come back!"

"Potato!"

"Henchhuman!" Grim tries to follow after her only to lower his ears and back up as she shoots the darkest glare she can muster at him. "I'm....I'm..."

Yuu disappears into the morning crowd that had gathered to learn what the commotion was about. She did not return to NRC that day...rather Crewel had found her, curled up outside his temporary house.

"Oh, Pup...." He pulls his coat off, wraps it around the crying young lady, and helps her inside.

The Prince Part 3 - final part

And ofc they lived happily ever after

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The Beginning pt. 2 (Failed Awakening Au)

I don't remember what this challenge called anyways HIAHIAHIAHIAHIA

QUICK PRESS ❤️ TO SEE YUNO'S BEAUTIFUL BODY

Gonna make a tag if this post really got this much likes

Types of kisses (w/ Baizhu, Childe, Dainsleif, Thoma)

Something entirely self-serving because I'm having a funky mental health day.

Tags: Kissing, touches, slight hair pulling, neck kisses

mentions of nsfw/ more suggestive

Baizhu: Gentle kisses. Maneuvering around eachother at the pharmacy, only pausing for him to plant a soft kiss on your forehead. His hand finds the back of your neck, pulling you into him so he can kiss your face gently. It's a small, silent 'I love you' in the middle of a busy day. His gentle eyes looking at you from across the room beckoning you for another silent 'i love you'.

Slow and passionate kisses. The moment you two have an actual moment to yourselves, his hands are holding your face and making sure he has your full attention before kissing you. His lips soft and gentle against yours, you can even slightly taste some herbs on his tongue. His hands always move to your hair, toying with the tresses and tugging on them gently. If time permits it, he'll tug your top down to expose your shoulder and kiss down the skin to leave marks for only him to find.

Childe/Tartaglia: Playful kisses. He's the type to cover your eyes and have you guess who's behind you. It's always him and you know that but you like to play along and sometimes for shits and giggles you answer with someone else's name. When he shakes his head disapprovingly, he'll peck your lips sweetly. Other than that, he likes peppering your face in kisses as he tickles you and makes you laugh. Your laughter is his favorite thing in the whole world, so on a day to day basis he just keeps the affection light and sweet.

Playful kisses don't just stay wholesome, chasing you to the bedroom with laugh before pinning you to the wall. He likes making things a game up until he catches you. His smile turns slightly sinister before kissing you deeply, thigh wedging between your legs as he pulls your hair to expose your neck.

Dainsleif: Goodbye kisses. When you're out and about, it'll be a miracle if he pulls you to the side for a kiss. It's incredibly rare. With all he's been through, the worst fear in his life is losing more people he loves. So when you are about to go your seperate ways for whatever, he pulls you to the side and looks you in your eyes. His hands holding your face and stroking the skin before telling you to be safe and kissing your forehead/lips/cheek. He also likes to remind you that if you need him, he'll be right there.

Feverish kisses. When he needs you, he absolutely needs you. Kissing you like his life force depends on it. Walking you backwards and pressing you into the nearest surface. Every emotion he has is put into kissing you, savouring you. His hands map out your body to make sure he never forgets a single curve or bump.

Thoma: Sneaky kisses. Thoma loves to steal a kiss while he's working, pulling you to the side behind a corner to kiss your lips quickly and then get back to work. The kisses leave him giddy the rest of the day and the more he manages to steal from you, the more he can't stop smiling. He thinks it's just so fun to do almost like it's a game to see if you can kiss without getting caught.

Gentle kisses. In contrast to how he is around others. When it's just the two of you, he treats you like glass. Not kissing you too roughly to show you how much he cherishes you. He smiles alot inbetween kisses, pausing to look at you only to smile even more. He kisses down your body with the same energy, taking time to make sure you feel cherished.

A/N: Just wanted to write something for me! Will work on the new requests I received now, I had a busy week.