#( /BOWS & BANGS HEAD ON FLOOR )

[youraverageaemondsimp]

Lust for love. // Aemond Targaryen x Wife!Reader.

Summary: Aemond's life has always been a bitter and sour one, the only sweet thing in his life was you, his wife, perhaps too sweet for his liking, yet he neglected you in the past but a series of events lead you both together into love.

WARNINGS: mdni, smut, unprotected p in v, cunnilingus, interrupted orgasm, horny aemond, martial duties, clit stimulation, tiddy succin, body worship(?), gentle and kind aemond but he gets rough during sex, + not proofread, lmk if I missed any!

WC: 2.9k

A/N: divider credits @cafekitsune

The cold breeze brushed against Aemond's face as he walked hastily towards your chamber, his boots clacking against the stone floor heavily while his heart banged in his ribcage.

He was feeling light headed, unable to form any thoughts and only the words of the maester rang inside his skull from earlier. ‘Your lady wife seems to be sick’ he had informed him and those mere words were enough to make Aemond spurt up from his chair in the meeting room and immediately rush towards you.

Aemond, frankly, did not know why he was feeling anxious at the information that you were sick, he did not even like you much and only merely married you for the connections and benefits your family provided.

You were just a mere duty to him, so when did he start caring about you?

He stood in front of your chamber door waiting anxiously as the guard gave him a bow before he opened the door, the mental hinges creaking as it slowly moved. He steps inside hurriedly and immediately lets out a sigh of relief when he sees you sitting up. You just stare at him confused.

“Husband? What are you doing here?” The tone of your voice indicated surprise, because Aemond had never visited your chambers even once since the beginning of your marriage and only called you to his chamber when he wanted to consummate.

“I had been informed by the maester that you were sick.” He replies nonchalantly, tone betraying the true feelings that were whirling on the inside. He wanted to get close to you, embrace you.

“I'm not with child.” You reluctantly tell him while looking down, suddenly feeling as though you are a disappointment. It felt humiliating to tell him that, especially when he came all the way to your chambers, he probably expected that you would be with a child.

Except that was not the case.

Aemond was confused on why you were bringing up that topic now, but then it clicked in his head and he cleared his throat, grabbing your attention before shaking his head, “Oh no, wife, I wasn't here because of that.. I was worried.” He admits and your eyes widen in shock.

Worried for you?

For as long as you can remember Aemond never seemed the type to show affection or concern for anyone, perhaps it was due to his past grievances, you had only heard about his eye through rumours, he never opened up to you about anything. You were a duty for him, someone he needs a legitimate heir from; because it is not as though he doesn’t have whores to seek pleasure from so what is the use of you? ; or at least that is what you had assumed and questioned.

But to Aemond, you were his sweet gentle wife, he was afraid of hurting you, in his vision, you were like a white swan, pure, elegant and graceful, he did not want to scare you lest you fly away from him. He did not know when he started perceiving you in this way, but as time went on, he had developed quite a soft spot for you.

“My apologies, Lord husband, I did not intend to worry you.” You apologised, he shook his head gently. “No need to apologise, how are you feeling now?” He questions and you simply blink at him, “I'm well, better than before.” You reply with a soft smile. Aemond's lip curved upwards slightly as he nodded, “Very well.” He says in a dismissive tone.

Awkward silence falls between you both as you look down, he clears his throat before speaking, “If you'll pardon me- I have to—”

“Would you like to take a walk with me?” The question leaves your mouth in a hurry before you could stop it, a desperate attempt at clinging onto this fleeting moment of affection. He seems slightly taken aback but he nods his head, “I'd love to.” He replies and you nod, stepping in his direction and standing next to him. “Shall we go?” You inquire, “Yes, wife.” He answers and you wait for him to take the first step, which he does; and soon you follow him out of the room.

You both stroll down the garden, admiring the scenery, the breeze was gentle today, and the weather seemed perfect, Aemond linked your arm in his, holding you close to him.

Your skin was soft to the touch and it drove him insane, he couldn't help but stare at the way your breasts pushed up against the material of your dress, he never really properly fucked you like you deserve.

Yet now, he just wants nothing to do but push you against the castle wall and fuck you relentlessly in the garden. Aemond realised that he never heard you moan, or show any type of reaction when he consummated with you.

He wondered how your soft voice would shriek in pleasure, calling out his name in pleasure, how you'd cling so tightly to him, he wished he could witness such a sight. He wished he hadn't gone to whores to receive pleasure while he left his wife dry. He missed out on a lot of things due to his decisions.

He mentally made a note to stop visiting brothels as it would taint your honour, he could simply seek the same pleasure from you. He became more bothered as his imagination went wild.

“... husband…? husband…!” He snaps out of his imagination, looking at your confused expression, “Y-Yes? Please excuse me, I was lost in thought.” He apologises and you give him a soft smile, “You were saying something?” He asks and you nod, “I was thinking about; well; if you excuse my rudeness, I realised we don't know much about each other.” You truthfully tell him.

Aemond furrows his brows in question, “What do you mean by that wife?”

“I want to get to know you, husband.” You stare at him in the eye and his eye widens slightly, and just then he recalls the memory of Aegon's words.

“That woman in the brothel knows more about you than your own wife, don't you find it amusing?” He was taunting Aemond, and at that time Aemond ignored those words, but now that you've openly admitted that you don't know him much made his heart shatter.

“Of course wife, what do you wanna know?” He decides to let his guard down, ready to tell you whatever you ask for. “Everything.” You reply, biting your lip anxiously, your hand travels up to his face, caressing his cheek before you trail your thumb down his scar. He knew what that implication meant and he smiles at you in a gentle manner, his own hand coming up to grab your wrist.

“Of course.”

Days pass by just like that, your marriage with Aemond had improved tremendously after your little effort to get to know him better, you felt bad for him when he began to reveal such vulnerable things, yet you never judged him.

He had shown you all of his vulnerability so openly, from the matter of his eye to everything else. You listened in silence, and he appreciated that.

As Aemond grew more comfortable, he began to show his emotional side, which included both his vulnerability and anger. He would utter treasonous things about his own brother.

This night was one of those cold nights, the cold breeze flew into the martial chambers you were waiting in, the maids prepared you for the consummation as they do, you and Aemond consummate according to your moon cycle since your only duty is to provide him with a heir.

And besides, he probably did not want to lay with you in an intimate manner, or for pleasure. You felt insecure because of that.

You were scared that after all this progress, everything would return to the same way it was before because of this night, you doubted that it would happen but your thoughts plagued you.

You winced when you felt the maid tug at a hair strand accidentally, “Sorry my lady.” She apologises to you, “It is alright.” You respond softly, you stare at your own reflection in the mirror, eyes trailing down your features.

The door to the chamber opens, and Aemond strides in hurriedly, the maids quickly finish fixing you up and leave the room immediately, you get up from your seat and turn around to see Aemond undoing his clothes.

“Let me help you.” You offered, usually he would decline and continue to undress himself, and you expected that again, but his actions shocked you.

He immediately dropped his hands to the side and turned to look at you, waiting for you to walk over to him and help him. You blinked rapidly before rushing over to where he stood before you stood in front of him.

Your hands immediately began to work on removing his vest, your fingers delicately undid the loops, you were too focused on the job that you failed to notice Aemond's piercing gaze. He watched with intent as you worked on removing his clothes, his eye taking in your form. His breeches felt tight.

You pushed his coat off his shoulders and peeled away the vest, revealing his tunic beneath the layers, his garments fell to the ground with a shuffle, you stepped back, leaving him in his undergarments.

He grabbed the hem of his tunic before he pulled it off and then began to undo his breeches, untying the strings. You took that as a gesture to lay down on the bed, facing up.

This is what you did when you both consummated before, you would lay down, he would spread your legs, insert himself, finish and leave.

You expected that to be the case, but you were surprised when climbed on top of you, his face right in front of yours, platinum locks curtaining around you. He stared at your lips for a moment before he leaned in, capturing your lips with his.

You were surprised, and didn't know what to do, so you stayed still, but he bit your lip, indicating his disappointment at your freezing up, and so you immediately tried to mimic his movements.

Your lips danced against his, yet it couldn't match the fervent passion he moved with, it was desperate, intimate and most importantly, filled with love and lust.

All your prior insecurities melted away under his warm lips which were filled with desire and want, he wanted you, he seeked you out.

You both pulled away to catch your breaths, his lips were glossy from your saliva and slightly swollen. Your heart was pounding loudly in your chest.

Aemond moved your night off your shoulder before ripping it apart, revealing your breasts which you immediately covered out of instinct. But he gently grabbed your wrists and pinned your hands to the side of your head.

He leaned down, tracing kissing down your jawline, to your neck and to the soft flesh of your chest. His hot breath against your bud made you shiver in delight.

He hooked his tongue on your hardened nipple before engulfing it with his mouth, you let out a squeal of surprise at his actions but you didn't stop him.

He suckled on it gently, using his teeth to trap the bud in between before licking it with his tongue, he grunted in delight, his grip loosening one of your hands, freeing it from his hold.

He grabbed your unoccupied breast with his now free hand, giving it soft squeezes and playing with the bud, rolling and pinching it. You were new to this, not having any understanding of what was happening, after all, you've only read about it, never experienced such intimate acts yourself.

You rubbed your thighs together, trying to ease the ache that was forming in between them, you realised how sticky the area felt, and how it made it difficult for the friction of rubbing to work.

He notices this, lets go of your breast with a pop, he smirks before he rises off from you and settles in between your legs, this was the position you were more used to.

He spreads your legs wide apart, pulling up your nightgown, revealing all of you. He pressed his thumb against your clit which made your breath, you stared at him confused until you felt him rub small circles upon it.

Your body felt pangs of delightful stimulation, you couldn't help but enjoy the feeling, all of this was foreign to you. Aemond takes a deep breath before he closes in on your cunt, before licking a stripe upwards to your clit. You jolt from the sudden pleasure.

Aemond wrapped his lips around it, sucking on the bud slowly, you whined, grabbing his head for support as his mouth worked wonders down there. You tasted absolutely divine to Aemond, your essence trailing down his cheek as your body produced so much of it. You whimpered, thrashing around lightly as his warm tongue flickered with your bud.

Aemond's tongue swirled around your clit before he captured it with his mouth once again; “Oh! Yes!” You moaned, throwing your head back in pleasure when you felt him nibble on your bud. An unfamiliar feeling of warmth rose in your lower abdomen, you felt as if there was a fire inside you, waiting to combust any moment.

Just when you feet the flames beginning to erupt, Aemond stops his manoeuvres, putting out the fire, you furrowed your brows in confusion, wondering why he stopped.

But when you looked at Aemond, he seemed like an entirely different being at that moment, he had risen up back to his haunches again taking deep breaths almost as if he was trying to contain himself.

He was.

He had never felt such an overwhelming of desire in his body, every time he touched you; his mind scrambled into pieces, he wanted to fuck you so badly.

“Aemond?” You call out softly, confused, wondering if he was disappointed by your behaviour but it seems to snap him out of his daze and he stares at you. “I apologise; I'm finding it hard to control myself.” He admits his thoughts.

“Then don't.”

Aemond swore he heard you wrong.

“What?” He questions you.

“Don't try to Aemond, Don't hold yourself back, I want this, I want you.” You admit shyly.

The atmosphere fell silent for a second and you could feel the awkwardness from your own words beginning to sink in, that was until Aemond moved suddenly.

You shrieked as he pulled your hips onto his lap, wasting no time in inserting himself, you gasped at the sudden stretch, feeling yourself become full of him. You grabbed onto his shoulders for support.

He held your waist tightly, grabbing onto your hips for leverage as he began to move, thrusting himself in and out.

This was a movement you were familiar with, yet somehow it still feels new because of the strange sensation, it felt more intimate and passionate, his thrusts held meaning and it was as if every time he pushed inside you; he was reaffirming his love and desire for you.

He pushed you into the mattress, grabbing your legs and shoving them to your chest as he thrusted hard, his skin slapped against yours loudly, the room echoing the noises.

You threw your head back at the sensation, and you felt the fire in your stomach rekindle and you couldn't help but desperately chase it. “Ah, right there.” You moaned, feeling him hit a sweet spot inside you that fueled the fire in you, you gasped for air as every thrust of his knocked it out of your lungs. “You feel so good, you're driving me insane, wife.” Aemond grunts, his thrusts never once faltering.

Everything about this night together was very different from the previous ones, Aemond had never felt this good and neither have you, he regrets not trying to get to know you earlier. He felt like he was in heaven with the way you clenched around him.

He felt his high approaching, and he desperately ran after it thrusting deeper inside as he groaned and moaned.

Your body jolted up and down the bed and you felt the fire beginning to spread out slowly, you closed your eyes, when you felt the fire suddenly go out, you were confused but as Aemond thrusted one more time it erupted in your body like volcano, coursing through your veins and to your mind.

You moaned loudly, grabbing the sheets and arching your back as your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the intensity, you have never felt this way before.

Your vision went completely white before you could see once again, you felt Aemond finish inside you, his cocking twitching as he spurted his seed deep inside you.

“Seven hells.” He groans, riding his orgasm off, you watch as he clenches his eye shut taking deep breaths.

He looked so ethereal.

He immediately falls down next to you, catching his breath, he pulls you close and kisses you on the forehead, “You did so well for me.” He praises you, and you blush shyly.

Neither of you moved from the bed, having no intention to.

Typically Aemond would leave the room right after.

Yet he didn't.

He was stroking your shoulder gently as you dozed off, head resting on his shoulder.

He looks at your closed eyelids and thinks you're asleep.

“I love you.” He confesses, realising his true feelings.

Your lips quirk up into a smile before you open your eyes slightly.

“I love you too.”

You then doze off into slumber immediately, Aemond's heart picks up its pace, embarrassed and shy that you had heard him, but your response made him smile.

[sonarspace]

snip, snip, snip

synopsis: giving a trim to your boyfriend turns into something more. wc: 2.7k pairings: choso x reader. geto x reader. nanami x reader. content: MDNI. smut (unprotected sex, cowgirl (choso), bow pose (geto), oral - fem!receiving, fingering, creampie, messy kisses) just lots of nsfw 😭 + not proofread as usual a/n: missed y’all!! have no idea what i wrote but i hope you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it.

𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. choso kamo

"oww… fuck” you hear choso cuss from the bedroom. “are you okay?” you check in from the bathroom just having finished your night time routine. he walks in rubbing his eye, a tiny pout playin on his lips “i think there’s something in my eye, it hurts,” he whines.

“let me see,” you say. he bends down and moves closer to your face. you notice the whites of his eye are turned a shade of light red, probably from all the rubbing he’s been doing. he hisses as you spot a short strand of hair in his lower lid and pull it out. “it’s hair,” you place it in his palm. “probably from your bangs,” you add on. his pout grows and he stares at the strand in silence for a minute before he asks “can you cut them?”

he sits on a stool in front of the mirror, a bashful smile on his lips. you place a cloth on the floor to catch the hair and wrap another around his neck.

you quickly brush his hair and separate the bangs. he grabs your waist and pulls you in closer when you start cutting his bangs. distracted by the night gown under your robe he starts squirming to get a closer look.

“choso!” you yelp when you feel him kiss over your clothed boob. “sorry,” he bashes his eyelashes at you. “sit still or i’ll mess up” you scold him.

he scoffs in return. you reach up to snip a few stray strands of hair that are in front of his face, and align them with a cute pout of concentration on your face. his eyes remain fixed on you, silently observing your every move, while his heart is filled with an array of intense emotions that overwhelm him. his grip on your waist tightens.

your eyes slowly shift from his freshly trimmed bangs to meet his gaze and a gentle smile curves up the corner of your lips. he pulls you closer — his hand deftly undoes the knot on your robe.

the fabric falls open, revealing a blue silk slip with lace detail covering your cleavage and his breath hitches. your heart begins to race at the anticipation of his next move.

"choso.." you feel his hand inch higher under your slip. you squeeze his shoulders when his finger trace your flimsy panties — a light sheen of your need coats his finger. you unwrap the cloth from around his neck, and he quickly stands up. he taps the back of your thighs, signaling you to jump into his arms.

he walks over to the bed and sits down with you on top. “fuck me,” he whispers as his lips brush over yours. your slip’s moved up and bunched around your thighs as you start grinding on his hardening cock.

he hums into the kiss — satisfied by the little bit of friction. you move a hand to in his hair, tugging at the strands to stop his movements.

he pulls back with a grin. you kiss a path from his jaw down to his neck and suck at the flesh on his throat. he lets out a deep groan as you wrap a hand around his throat and push him to lie down on his back.

you quickly push down his pants and his dick springs out and hits his abdomen. his tip’s a little red with pre-cum leaking. you rub the pre cum up and down his dick — prepping it to be inside you.

his breathing grows erratic and he tries to keep his moans quiet. you lace your fingers with his, near his head and he turns to give it a sweet peck. you both gasp in unison as you slide down his slicked length. his other grips your waist tighter — probably leaving a bruise.

your wetness makes it easy to move up and down his cock. “you can be loud baby,” you groan breathlessly and he immediately lets out a whine as if he was waiting for your permission.

at this angle his cock was hitting all the right spots in you. he wraps a hand around your throat and pulls you down for a messy kiss. his tongue laps at yours and he sucks at your bottom lip before finally letting you go.

he pulls down the straps of your slip still shielding your boobs from his lustful eyes. he gulps at the view from below. silently thanking whatever higher power led you to him and allowed him to experience this moment of utter bliss and pleasure.

you place your hands on his chest and pick up the pace. pussy clamping down on his cock – creating a circle of white around his length.

he notices you slow down as your thighs burn from the movement. “come on, baby. don’t stop now,” he urges you. his hips buck up into yours and you moan in surprise “ahh fuck”. his hands move under your ass to help you keep going.

your head falls into his neck as he keeps fucking into you from underneath. “i’m close” he pants. you bite his shoulder as your orgasm rushes through you, too blissed out to warn him but he notices anyway. his hand moves from under your ass to rubbing your back. soothing you from your high.

and he comes right after with a loud moan of your name. you hum satisfied at the feeling of his cum filling you completely.

suguru geto

he’s sitting on a stool facing the bathroom mirror as you stand behind him, trimming the ends of his hair.

and when you finally move in front of him to cut his front pieces, he keeps trying to put his hand under your shirt. you smack his hand away and he sits there with a pout and you immediately feel bad.

“sorry,” you say meekly. he doesn’t respond instead he looks down at his lap. “suguru,” you call out to him but he ignores you.

“suguru,” you try again but he doesn’t reply. you sigh and continue your task. you move behind him once you’re done and he smiles at you through the mirror, “thank you for the haircut, baby”.

a little confused at the change in his mood, you lean down to give him a quick peck when he looks up at you expectantly. his tongue pokes out and traces your lips and over your chin. you giggle when his tongue moves towards the underside of your jaw. you walk back to the bedroom and he shrugs off the hair and follows you. he spreads your legs and lays atop you. his tongue meshes with yours and your boobs buck up into his chest. he smiles against your lips, pulling back to admire your sprawled out figure.

he bunches up your shirt and places it in your mouth. "can you stay like this for me?" he asks in a hushed tone. you nod and he laughs under his breath as he hears a muffled yes. he places kisses over the expanse of your body and moves between your legs.

he holds eye contact as he pushes your panties to the side. you shudder when he spreads your lips and inserts a finger in you. his gaze moves down to your hole sucking him in desperately.

he leans to peck your clit once and then twice. his lips wrap around your clit, sucking it in slowly as he inserts a second finger into your needy cunt.

one second you’re whining at the way his mouth is making you feel and then before you can register the retraction of his mouth and fingers, you yelp a surprised whimper when you feel his hand come down at the flesh of your ass.

as you come down from the shock of the slap on your ass, you realize that he’s got you laying on your stomach.

you guess you should’ve known smacking his hand away earlier would have its consequences. however you didn’t mind this. his hand rubs soothingly at the reddened skin of your ass before another smack resounds throughout the room and you groan in slight pleasure.

“you like that, huh?” a lilt to his voice. “harder,” you mumble into the sheets. and he abides with your request. after all he’s gotta give you, whatever you ask for.

after two more hard spanks he moves over your legs. his hands rub at the flesh of your ass while he lines himself up with your hole. he rubs his cock head at your glistening pussy before he pushes in.

you gasp when you feel his hands pushing your legs up to hold himself steady as he starts fucking into you from behind. he keeps up a fast and hard pace that has your brain turning into mush. he gently puts your legs back down and you whimper at the mix of pleasure and pain you feel from having your legs up for so long.

he grabs your hips and slides a pillow under your stomach. you peek over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of him. his chest covered in a sheen of sweat and his breathing hard . you reach a hand behind which he immediately intertwines with his own.

he leans down on top of you, his weight heavy and comforting as he slows down the pace of his thrusts. your hair’s sticking to your face and your lip’s parted with drool slipping out of the side of your mouth. he chuckles at your fucked out state and gives you a quick peck.

he shifts his weight onto his other hand as he moves your joint fingers under your stomach and picks you up so you’re hovering over the sheets. “close sugu- ah” you moan as the angle has the head of his cock pressing against your g-spot. he kisses you deeply – tangling tongues together. you lull your tongue out every so slightly and he takes it as his cue to suck on it.

your tongue between his lips as he bobs his head and his thrusts have you turning into a blubbering mess of hmph’s and oh’s.

“go ahead and come for me, pretty girl”. he groans lowly in your ear. a rush of pleasure washes over you and you slump forward in his grip. he lets you lay back down on your stomach. he slows down his pace even more so you can ride out your high comfortably.

finally he pulls out and you turn around to lay on your back. his head falls back as he pumps his cock a few times and releases over your abdomen with a loud moan of your name.

kento nanami

you grow tired after hearing nanami complain several times about his recent grown out beard. “they gave me a weird look,” he huffs. “do you think it makes me look weird?” he asks you seriously.

“i think it looks sexy. but if you want i can make it lighter for you.” you offer and he nods promptly.

so now you’re sitting on the bathroom counter with nanami between your legs and his arms placed on either side of you.

he hands you the trimmer with a shorter guard, allowing you to trim most of his beard but still maintain some facial hair. you turn on the trimmer and start from his ears and work your way down with a gentle but firm pressure. with unwavering focus, you move the trimmer under his nose, over the corners of his mouth and under his chin as the hair falls to the floor.

he keeps his eyes on you the entire time. the way you squint your eyes to focus better. the way your face muscles tense when you reach higher. your lips parting slightly when you move the trimmer under his nose. his heart fills with love at seeing you do this for him with so much care and attention.

you finish it off with a clean edge and pull away to grab a razor. you get back to work and apply a lather of shaving cream and remove any hair you couldn’t get with the trimmer. you pull back and admire your handy work, “how does it look?” you ask him with a sweet grin.

in return he kisses you. you squeal as the shaving cream covers your face. you both laugh as you help each other wash off the shaving cream.

you wipe your face and then his with a towel and he feels overwhelmed with the love he has for you. he wraps your legs around his waist and carries you back to bed.

he flops you down on the bed and wastes no time in ridding you off your clothes. he quickly moves between your legs and slides off your shorts. he sees the confusion on your face and grins “gotta reward my sweet doll for such a good job, don’t i?”

he pulls your legs over his shoulders and gets to work. you gasp when you feel his freshly trimmed beard between your legs. he starts by tracing your outer labia with his tongue and moving to your inner labia. his tongue pokes under your clitoral hood and then presses over your clit.

your hole still untouched. he teases his tongue around it until he hears you whine “kento, please”. he dips his tongue in and you’re almost instantly clenching around his tongue. “oh, she’s needy today,” he speaks to your pussy in a hoarse tone.

he replaces his tongue by inserting two fingers into you. plunging in and out, curving slightly to push against that spot. his tongue moves over your clit in languid teasing licks, making you squirm and tighten your grip on his hair.

“stay still sweetheart,” he tuts at you. having had enough of his teasing, you tighten your legs around his shoulders and pull his head further into your cunt.

with a grip on his hair, you start grinding against his face bringing yourself closer to your high. he removes his fingers from your cunt and dips his tongue once more. excited to have you clenching his tongue as you cum.

“ahh ken, fuck i’m so close,” you mewl indirectly asking him to help you. his thumb alternates between rubbing circles and flicking your nub. soon you cum with a scream of his name. almost suffocating him between your legs, but he doesn’t mind.

he continues lapping at your cunt as you come down from your orgasm. you shudder as his tongue moves over your sensitive nub once more. he sucks your clit into his mouth, on a mission to make you cum again.

your hips grind against him involuntarily but this time he holds you down with a bruising grip. his head bobs as he continues sucking and lapping at your clit.

he holds your gaze as your expression changes to tethering the edge of overstimulation. his favorite view. his free hand moves over to your boobs – massaging and teasing your nipples.

you grab his hand move it higher and up to your lips. he squeezes your cheek once and then you’re poking out your tongue and licking his palm. you hold his hand steady and suck in the two fingers that were in your cunt earlier.

you hum around his fingers and try to match the pace of his tongue on your clit. you look into his eyes, ignoring your gag reflex and push his fingers further into your mouth — you decided to add a third finger.

nanami pulls away and bites your inner thigh as he grinds into the bed trying to get some relief. oh how he wishes you were sucking his cock instead. he plunges his tongue into your hole again and moans at the thought – making your hole spasm around his tongue.

unable to contain himself, nanami, continues bucking his hips into the bed as you keep sucking his fingers greedily.

your second orgasm washes over you and you almost bite down on his fingers at the blissful pleasure. as if on cue he creams his pants and groans into your thigh.

“can’t believe you’ve made me cream my pants more than once,” he chuckles from his place on your sprawled out thigh. he peppers kisses as he moves up your body, purposefully rubbing his freshly trimmed beard causing you to giggle sweetly. he grabs your face and gives you a bruising but loving kiss.

𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆.

a/n: reblogs, likes, and comments are highly appreciated!

© SONARSPACE 2023 | DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS!

[demonic0angel]

Minor prompt

Jazz can't cure Jason's pit rage, but che can take it from him. She's mostly mentally stable enough to restrain it, but we do still get scenes like Red Hood Assistant Jazz responding to being threatened by ripping off a guy's arm and beating someone else to death with it. Jazz doesn't rage often, but when she does, it's brutal.

“Everyone! Quick! Scatter!” Someone shouted.

Another person paused, confused. “Why? What happened? Did the Bats arrive?”

The same person who first shouted shook his head, eyes wide. “No. Even worse. Wolf is in a bad mood!”

There was a pause. Then everyone scattered like rats. Just as the last person was ducking behind a desk, the door to the hideout opened with a bang and a tall figure strode through. She was radiating rage and darkness and she entered the room without a care.

In her hands was an unconscious man that she dragged across the floor by his hair.

Another door to the hideout opened, and the Red Hood, their boss, walked in.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief as Wolf’s cold aura immediately lessened drastically.

Red Hood walked over to her casually, helmet tilting as he looked at the person whose hair was being clenched within Wolf’s fist.

“… so what’s this?”

“Just an animal I had to deal with,” replied Wolf cooly. She bowed her head. “I’ll clean up after myself.”

Red Hood chuckled, the noise coming out mechanical. “It’s alright, Princess. I’ll get someone else to do it. Why don’t you sit down and take a drink? You’re probably tired.”

“Is that an order?”

“Yep. Go and relax. It’s a sorry day in hell when I’m the calm one and you’re the angry one.”

Wolf was silent and then she sighed. She unceremoniously dropped the body she was holding and then nodded. “Yessir.”

She turned and then left the room to the lounge. Red Hood tapped his foot on the ground and then said, “Alright, I need someone to put this guy in the interrogation room. I also need two other people to clean up the blood on the floor.”

Everyone quickly complied, thankful that for some odd reason, Wolf and Red Hood could calm each other down so easily.

[chatsukimi]

ｓｃａｒｓ： "ᴛʜᴇʏ ꜱᴀʏ ɪᴛ'ꜱ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴋɪʟʟᴇᴅ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ʟɪꜰᴇ"

Sukuna x deceased reader. pt 1.

Sukuna whose flames are unleashed solely on special occasions. One day, when Yuji wonders aloud why he has two, he tells the brat to "shut up and get yourself your first technique before asking for seconds." Yuji winces, shutting up nevertheless.

Sukuna who quietens next to the bonfire on New Years. The open conflagration bursts and wanes. He peers at the sparkling flames, dancing before Yuji's worn out sneakers. He wills the boy to let him switch places- one minute, just as he had promised when Sukuna restored his heart. Now the Devil will restore his own.

Sukuna who appears, silent, next to a mossy pillar in the middle of a redwood forest; a trick of Cursed Technique, long lost. He only has a minute: prepare the incense, plant the prayers, spare one longing gaze at your statue. He clenches his teeth as he hears Yuji banging on inside his mind, but it's the one chance he has of being with you, alone.

Sukuna who had always been concentrated compared to the other Special Grade sorcerers, capable of miraculous devotion. Suffice to say, he likes it best when there aren't passerby's, mistaking zeal for shortcoming.

He sinks to the ground, bowing his head, pressing his palms together, before wisps of flame start drifting from between them, touching every candle and incense to life. Wisteria scents float over him.

In this forgotten corner of the world, all who remember you are the monks who tend this shrine, and the strongest of them all.

When Yuji wakes up, on the stone floor of the Fujiwara Clan's tombs, sputtering at the cold. Shocked, later on, by the violent burn in the middle of his chest he had never seen before.

"Curious..." Gojo murmurs, inspecting the wound. "Yuji, you're growing more and more like him."

This used to be his scar.

Sukuna who doesn't come out for days when Gojo informs Yuji about the Fujiwara Clan's destruction. What was he doing at the shrine? Why did he kill them all, the children, the soldiers, the wives?

Everyone assumes Sukuna's just tired of Yuji's moral clamouring. No one suspects he is drowning in the shadows of his domain, his head collapsed back onto the animal skulls, exhales spilling out in long drawn out phrases, in the nightmare he created.

Sukuna who used to hate fire because it quashed the dark, until he saw you manoeuvre flames and arrows as though they were a second skin. He was the Disgraced One, but you- you were kind.

Sukuna who was killed by you, when he killed your clan. He was promised your technique when he said he would protect you. He made a vow. He had to keep it.

So, when it came time, he had simply let you press your burning hand upon his chest and feel him recline in agony. He knew it would be the last time you touch him. He wanted to feel it burn.

"Sukuna, you told me you would try to get better. You told me you didn't care how the others saw you, about us- how could you lie to me?"

He never wanted to lie to you, of all souls. If it makes you feel better, he still thinks of you when he uses your flames, only on special occasions. Your strength, your grace, and the look you wore as you killed him, they all come wobbling, like moth to a flame. Like a lowly cast-away boy on his way, in rage, to destruction.

Sukuna who thinks to himself, "you have given your technique to me, but what if I had asked for your soul with mine forever?", looking for your voice in the flames.

It only cracks and cackles.

It is Yuji who first notices you on the street.

"Hey! Hey!"

You turn around. A boy with pink hair is jogging towards you. He waves.

"Oh. Hi, do I know you?"

"Don't think so. You just look really alike to someone I saw a while ago at a shrine."

You can't pinpoint what but the slit on his face... you can't tear your eyes from it. You shake your head. What is wrong with you today?

"I don't go to shrines," you say. Your fingers itch to reach out to graze his cheek. "... that's a cool scar you've got there. Both sides of your face. They say scars are where you were killed"

"Oh I've got many scars," he mutters sheepishly. "A big one on my chest, s'kinda lame though, 'cause I don't remember how I got it."

You laugh. "Me too." You drag your T-shirt neckline down just an inch, pointing at it with your thumb. "I was born with mine."

A scar.

A burn.

A flaming arrow.

Right above your heart.

[regressionschool]

Crinkles in the Revolution

The bar buzzed with chaotic energy, its mismatched furniture and neon glow a haven for those who refused to conform. Ella’s so-called “friends” gathered around a sticky table, their laughter high-pitched and giddy. Most of them had succumbed to the regression laws—mentally, physically, or both. But they didn’t care. In their minds, they were the last bastion of rebellion.

“Ella! You’re such a *big girl*! You don’t even need anyone to check you!” giggled Penny, her pigtails bouncing as she clumsily sipped a drink from a sippy cup. A faint, telltale sag peeked beneath the hem of her pastel skirt, but no one mentioned it. It was just the norm now.

Steph clapped her hands, though her coordination was off. Her oversized hoodie hung loosely over her padded form, the occasional crinkle betraying her movements. “You’re like, the coolest,” she slurred, her words slightly muddled as she fumbled with a pacifier dangling from a clip on her collar. “Teach us how to be, like… grown-up like you!”

Ella smiled, soaking up their adoration even as a pang of guilt twisted in her stomach. She raised her glass—a real glass—and toasted, her voice steady. “To staying free!”

The table erupted into cheers, clapping and banging their cups on the table. Ella grinned and leaned back, though the sticky chair made her wince. Penny gave her a dreamy look. “You’re so lucky, Ella. You’re not like us. You’re still, like… *normal*. You’re, like, a real grown-up.”

Ella’s smile tightened, but she played her role. “Well, someone has to set an example, right?”

Another wave of cheers erupted. Ella, ever the performer, pushed back her chair and stood, smoothing her jacket over her skirt. “Speaking of setting an example,” she announced with mock confidence, “I’m going to use the bathroom. *Like a big girl.*”

The table gasped in amazement. Penny even dropped her sippy cup. “You’re so brave!”

“Big girl! Big girl!” Steph chanted, and the others quickly joined in.

Ella gave a theatrical bow, though her cheeks burned hot. “Be right back,” she said, striding toward the bathroom.

Inside the bathroom, the muffled noise of the bar faded, replaced by the hum of fluorescent lights. Ella leaned against the stall door, letting out a shaky breath. Her heart raced—not from the thrill of her act, but from the fear that someone might discover the truth. She tugged nervously at the hem of her jacket, feeling the unmistakable bulk of her soggy diaper beneath her skirt. The once-soft padding was heavy and swollen, pressing against her thighs.

The bathroom door creaked open, and Ella stiffened. Her heart jumped until she saw the figure stepping inside.

Dave. His leather jacket glinted faintly in the pink neon light, his sharp eyes scanning the room before locking on hers. A smirk tugged at his lips as he approached, his boots echoing on the tile floor.

“You’ve got fans now,” he teased, his voice low enough to keep their conversation private. “Rebel queen Ella. How’s the ‘big girl’ act holding up?”

Ella gave him a tired smirk, letting her shoulders drop. “Daddy, they’re not suspicious,” she muttered, the term of endearment slipping naturally between them.

Dave stepped closer, tilting his head toward the stall. “Let’s take care of that little problem of yours before anyone else catches on.”

Ella bit her lip, letting out a small, embarrassed whimper as he guided her into the stall. The door clicked shut behind them, enclosing them in their private world. Her cheeks flushed as Dave crouched down, pulling a small bag from under his jacket. His movements were calm, steady, practiced.

“Up,” he ordered softly, and Ella obediently lifted her skirt. The swollen diaper crinkled audibly, its once-white surface tinged yellow and sagging heavily between her thighs. Dave raised an eyebrow, smirking as he surveyed the damage. “You’ve been busy.”

“It’s your fault,” she pouted, crossing her arms as she glanced away. “You made me drink all that water earlier.”

Dave chuckled, shaking his head as he peeled open the diaper tabs. The sound echoed softly in the cramped space, blending with Ella’s quiet breathing. He worked quickly, cleaning her up with a warm, damp cloth before sliding a fresh diaper under her. The crisp, powdery scent filled the air as he dusted her with a light puff of powder, sealing her snugly into the new padding.

“Much better,” he said, standing and adjusting her skirt. His hand lingered briefly on her cheek. “You’re ready to get back out there.”

Ella hesitated, looking up at him. “Do you think they suspect anything? About us?”

Dave’s expression softened, and he cupped her cheek, brushing his thumb lightly against her skin. “Not a chance,” he reassured her. “To them, you’re the face of rebellion. They think you’re standing up to the government by refusing to regress.”

She nodded, taking a deep breath. “Okay. We just need a little more time. I’ll keep them distracted.”

Dave kissed her forehead, his voice dropping to a whisper. “That’s my girl. Now go remind them why they believe in you.”

Ella straightened her jacket and smoothed her skirt. With one final crinkle, she pushed the stall door open and strode back into the bar. Her friends erupted into cheers the moment they saw her, crowding around her with adoration.

And in the shadows, Dave lingered, his expression unreadable as he watched her seamlessly fall back into the role she played so well.

[silentium-symphony]

So This is... Lust (Link x Reader) SMUT

(a/n) ya'll, i finally finished it ToT i'm so sorry for the wait, but it's finally here now! i had so much fun writing this!

i took a look at my schedule for next semester and i have *a lot* of free time, so hopefully that'll mean more time to write and, in extension, finally open up my inbox for requests!!! i've never done requests before at least on this account because i was always so busy. i'm not too sure how much time my new research position will take up (i was told it would be time-consuming, but i'm not sure how time-consuming), so i'll keep you guys updated!

as always, i hope you enjoy this ~steamy~ oneshot! and remember: if you are a minor, do not interact.

cw: afab!retainer!reader, reader wears a dress, link masturbating to the thought of you :), mentioned reader masturbation (like one line), cunnilingus, missionary, mentioned doggy, overstimulation, tried to make link a soft dom heheh, swearing, dirty talk, dumbification, fingering

wc: 6.5k

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

"(F/N)?" Zelda slinked her back against her chair, sinking into the worn, plush cushion that coddled her stiff vertebrae.

"Yes, Your Highness?"

"Please prepare the horses... We're going to take a little walk." She pinched the bridge of her scrunched nose. "If I am to look at these documents a moment longer, I believe my head will explode."

"But Your Highness, Link should be coming any minute now. We must discuss the security details for the upcoming ball." Your usually terse expression softened at the royal's groan. "But we can go out afterwards.”

"Yes, you're right... Apologies (F/N), I completely forgot about that meeting. Will anyone else be coming?"

"No, Your Highness. It will just be—“

Knock knock knock!

"Ah! Perfect timing." Zelda tapped a thick, disheveled pile of documents against her desk into a more manageable bundle. "Come in!"

The brass doorknob shifted slightly and clicked open, revealing Hyrule's most renowned knight. A pair of cobalt eyes went from you to the Princess and he bowed wordlessly.

"Link. Thank you for—“

A loud bang, then wood stuttering against stone, quickly followed by the airy splish of dozens of documents fluttering to the ground. You dove across the desk, grasping a few documents you were lucky enough to catch and watched the rest pool by the table’s legs.

"Oh Hylia—!”

"Your Highness! Are you okay?!" Your hand flew to the staggering princess, documents be damned; Link sprung to Zelda’s side and placed a restful hand on her shoulder.

"I-I'm fine, really...” She muttered, rubbing her sore knee. “Goodness, I'm so sorry for the mess. Let me clea—“

"Absolutely not, Your Highness. I’ll take care of it." You cut, already circling the desk and shuffling the disarrayed documents on the floor. Link joined you on his hands and knees, carefully scooping up piles of paper onto the desk and into your arms. A jolt of electricity shot through your heart as you felt worn leather chafe against your skin. You turned away, 'looking' for other scattered documents, and coughed out,

"Thank you Link, but please don't worry. I can take care of this."

A determined look gripped his features as he stared and shook his head. Without uttering another word, Link once again began gathering the parchment. A soft sigh left you, and an even softer smile graced your lips.

"Can you hand me that document, please? I think these go together... Oh, and... these have matching headings, so I'll take that and you can have those..."

Even in her mildly frazzled state, Zelda wasn't blind to the faint red that whispered the surface of your cheeks when Link got a little too close, or the shifty flash of Link's blues whenever your fingers 'accidentally' grazed his. As much as she wanted to jump in and rectify the mess she made, maybe... She should sit this one out. Enjoy the show. Or better yet... Hm... When was the last time you and Link had a day off?

In no time at all, all correspondence was off the floor and either in your arms or on the desk. Your fingers flew this way and that, reorienting texts right side up and shuffling this paper behind that, and this one goes over here, and wait… Shouldn’t these be bundled together?

"Once again, I apologize for the mess I had created. Thank you both for cleaning it up."

"No worries at all, Your Highness." You finally looked up and cast a warm smile at the knight. "Thank you for helping me, Link."

A bashful grin cracked the stoic man's lips and he awkwardly rocked his feet. All that extra motion certainly drew attention away from the fists tightening behind his back. Zelda cleared her throat and eyed some documents pertinent to the upcoming social.

"Right. Now that that's all settled, let's get down to business."

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

"A-Ah... Mmph..."

The knight threw his head back, feeling his temples drum in time with his cock. Sweat dewed his ivory skin and his Adam's apple bobbed a name he dared not utter, lest someone discover the target of his hidden fantasies. A scene from earlier that day has been playing in his head on repeat, fueling the sensual fantasies that has drawn him awake past the midnight hours; his fist thumped faster against his thighs and his back careened toward the ceiling.

You—gorgeous, gorgeous you—bent over a desk grasping desperately for a document fluttering to the ground.

With slight modifications, of course. The hem of your dress pooled about your hips—hips he oh so desperately wished to sink his teeth and fingers in—your hands tied prettily against your lower back as he thrusts into you again and again, his fingers tenderly coaxing your feathery soft hair... But the best part? You looking back at him, tears stinging the corners of your eyes, and his name spilling out of those plump lips he yearned to taste.

He could hardly remember what the Princess had told him. Something about the security details for the upcoming ball, but Hylia only knew if he retained anything past that. All he could think of was you, you, you—the Princess's loyal, respectful, diligent, beautiful retainer. How he craved your presence! If only you knew how much he liked you! Oh, the things he dreamt of doing to you.

"Ngh... (F-F/N)...!"

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

The garbled talk of Hyrule's high society bounced off the castle walls and the guards' helms, which flickered bright flashes of torchlight. A pair of cobalt eyes flitted about every corner of the room, filing away mental notes of the ball's invitees and the stream of people that flowed in and out of the ballroom. Link scooted along the wall—weaving around young, giggly wallflowers and decrepit, lonely barons in search of another wife—always making sure you the Princess stood in his line of sight.

After sending you away to drop off another gift at the crowded gift table, Zelda turned around with the polite smile most nobility had during these sizeable socials. She caught eyes with her loyal guard and slowly made her way over, skillfully avoiding conversation with the withdrawn, mysterious grace of a royal. Eventually, she found herself at the side of one of her most trusted confidantes.

"Link, I believe the next song shall be a waltz. Do you still remember how to dance?"

Link nodded dutifully, sensing an incoming question. Is Her Highness hinting that she wants him to ask her to dance...?

"If so, why not dance with (F/N)?"

Link, who happened to be swallowing his spit as she said that, hacked it all back up and proceeded to draw the most distressing and deprecating attention an introvert could draw to themselves in a single night. He turned to her, lovestruck panic evident in his eyes, and shook his head like a wet, storm-logged puppy.

"Now now, don't be shy! I'm sure she'd be happy to share a dance with you."

"Your Highness! There you are." A bright voice from yonder drew closer to the duo, and Link could feel himself shrinking. "I've been looking all over for you. Why are you all the way over here? Have you grown tired?"

The torpid, repetitive chords that most patrons had droned out this part in the night livened into a steady waltz. Link could feel Zelda's smirk and knowing gaze burn into the side of his head.

"I'm sorry for worrying you, but I assure you I'm fine. I just wanted to have a little chat with Link. But (F/N), you should dance! Enjoy yourself! You've been working far too hard these days."

"Thank you for your concern, but I would feel better if I were attending you."

"(F/N), don't be like that." She squeezed a gentle hand on your shoulder. "I'm saying this more as a friend than your queen. Please go have some fun. Maybe you'll meet your Prince Charming, just as you've always hoped you would.“

"Zel—Princess!" Your heart dropped to your stomach and a pair of hands immediately flew to cage Zelda's arms. "T-That was so long ago—I mean, I was only a little girl and—!"

A genuine, lighthearted laugh alighted your friend and she gazed at you with a sisterly fondness.

"Just teasing. It's always so fun to do so."

"Your Highness..." Your head hung as low as your spirits as you felt Zelda's frame shake from a stifled laughter.

"Your Highness?" All eyes turned to the clear, bold voice a few bodies past you. "Can I have this dance?"

The young suitor flashed a kind, dimpled beam as he held out a gloved hand to Zelda. The royal returned her own practiced, elegant smile and took his hand.

"I would be honored." She turned to you. "My apologies. I'm afraid I must go. But do have fun tonight, okay? You deserve it."

And with a swish of her gown, she was escorted through a parted sea of people to the middle of the dance floor. She locked eyes with you for a second, and cast a knowing tilt towards him.

You two were locked in a domain of stiff silence, both looking helplessly towards your mutual friend who had seemingly forgotten all about you. Link's timbers began shivering like no other as he replayed a thousand ways this night could go.

Freeing himself of his chains of self-doubt, he pushed himself off the wall and slowly made the short way over. Your heart had practically stopped pulsing while Link's was pounding away all breath from his lungs. He felt a sickly pallor drain his cheeks; he silently thanked the gods for the bright lights that filled his cheeks with artificial ruddiness.

"(F/N)...?" You turned, your thundering heart almost drowning out the Hero's squeak. "Can I have this dance?"

Pure, unadulterated sincerity crinkled Link's eyes, which held a certain life-like sheen typically absent for the soldier; for the briefest of moments, you felt that you were allowed a glimpse into his heart. Fighting the urge to scream 'til your lungs gave out was the understatement of the century as you dipped your fingers into his palm.

"I would be honored."

The small, anxious smile widened into one of pure delight as he led you further into the ballroom. He pulled you into the fringes of the waltzing couples and placed a steady palm close to your shoulder blades, inadvertently pressing you closer to him. Clothed fingers weaved through your own and pulled your hand away from your trembling frame. You could only hope he couldn't feel the aggressive thumping in your chest.

"Are you okay?" His voice rumbled in your ear.

"Y-Yes!" You blurted suddenly, your nerves not quite heeding your volume. You were practically melting from the stinging, judgemental stares thrown your way and you swallowed thickly.

"Yes, I'm okay. Thank you for your concern."

"We don't have to do this for very long if you don't want to." He muttered, his hand slipping to your waist as he dipped you. Your delusions led you to believe that his eyes lingered on your neck a moment too long... But surely your eyes were just playing tricks on you.

"It's just... Well, I'm rather nervous, so..."

You slowly turned your gaze upwards, peering through quivering lashes and fully expecting the knight's visage to be contorted in mockery; you were pleasantly surprised that his eyes held nothing but warmth for you.

"I understand." He effortlessly guided your next movements into a spin. "How can I help you feel more at ease?"

"Mm..." You unknowingly gave his shoulder a light squeeze, causing Link's heart to flutter. "Would it be all right if we talked some more?"

"Of course. What would you like to talk about?"

"Well... I've actually always wondered this, but have you always wanted to become a knight?"

"Hm... That's a good question." He chuckled, his hot breath tickling your cheekbones. "I wasn't particularly against it. As you may know, I come from a long line of knights, so it was only expected that I became a knight too."

"How did it feel when you found out you bore the legendary Triorce?"

"... Surreal." He concluded, a glimpse of wistfulness in his eyes. "My life hasn't been the same since."

"Oh... I'm sorry if this brought up difficult memories."

"Not at all!" His tired eyes snapped to life. "Yes, training became much harder after that and the pressures of the throne are very much there… But it wasn't all that bad. After all, I got to meet you—“

At the utterance of the last syllable, Link's face twisted into horror; not even the bright, warm lights could disguise his drained cheeks. You felt your entire face engulf in flames and screamed your heart out smiled shyly.

"That's... really sweet of you, Link. Thank you."

He cleared his throat and desperately wished for a Link-size hole to swallow him up this very second. Every gear in his brain cogged away as he chose his next words carefully.

"You and the Princess seem close."

"Yes..." A bittersweet comfort gripped your heart as deeply cherished memories flashed through your mind. "We were girls together."

"How long have you been her retainer?"

"Since we were very young. Like you, I come from a long line of individuals who serve the royal family and, well... Zel and I have been best friends for as long as I can remember."

"'Zel?'"

"O-Oh!" Panicked side glances jittered here and there; you let out a deep breath, thankful that no one heard your insubordinate casualness. "Please forgive me. That was a nickname I used to call Her Highness."

"No worries. I just... thought it was very cute."

The both of you were completely oblivious to the crimson that coated the other's cheeks—how could you be when your own face ran hotter than the lava at Death Mountain? You were startled out of your mushy haze with a bright, chime-like laugh.

"Her Highness was right. You are fun to tease."

Before you could retort some type of response, the ensemble played its final note. While all the other couples were separating and bowing to their dance partners, Link was quite slow to release you, and you were even slower to leave his arms.

"Thank you for the dance, Link. You are a wonderful dance partner."

"Likewise," he straightened his back, "I hope we can do this again."

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

Gods, you wanted to go to bed.

Your nice, warm sheets were all you could think of as you clicked the door to the Princess's bed chambers shut. You threw your arms above your head and groaned out the tension that had carved its way into your joints.

Your feet automatically led you down the long winding corridor, past the soldier's quarters and towards your—

"Mm... F-Fuck..."

Wait a damn minute.

Your feet ceased their dragging as a voice that sounded eerily similar to a certain Hero echoed nearby. You gripped your chest, as if that would quiet the thundering pounding in your ears.

… Silence...

Were you losing your mind?

Chalking whatever... that was to your perverted imagination, you once again began your trek towards—

"Ah...!"

—Link's room wait since when did you start moving in this direction oh gods oh Hylia

"Mmph! Fuck- yes- hah..."

The noises were undoubtedly coming from his room, your ear pressed against the door confirmed that. Your hand flew to your mouth as your knees locked in place, your ears feasting listening to the sinful whimpers and pants of Hyrule's sword and shield. You were thrown into the deep end, drowning in a cacophony of your own thoughts.

What the fuck holy shit what the fuck holy shit what the fu Was he alone? Wait, but the bed squeaked just now, so does that mean he’s with someone? And if so, who? But if he's alone... Who could he be thinking of?

This was wrong. This was so, so wrong of you to be violating his privacy like this. You would be mortified to learn that someone was listening to you pleasuring yourself—everyone's entitled to have these moments to themselves. So why couldn't you just... walk away?

"Mm... Oh, (F/N)..."

... Huh?

“I need you I need you I need you…” He slurred with sloppy breaths. Shame swelled within you as a wet heat pooled between your legs and wickedly delightful thoughts ruminated in your mind. Your chest constricted, sensing the crossroads that would undoubtedly decide your future relations with your long-time crush; you toyed with either option as carefully as your lust-hazed brain would allow. With your heart mere moments away from seizing, you carefully lifted your hand, suddenly aware of every muscle needed to execute the simple motion.

Four docile raps lisped the wood. You froze, the veil of sensuality finally lifted from your senses as the gravity of the situation bucketed you like cold water. Oh gods, what have you done? Your heart raged against your ribcage and beckoned you to flee! Run! There’s still time, go!

A quiet click.

A pair of blown-out pupils amidst a thin strip of blue peered out at you.

“L-… Link?”

“… Yes?”

You listlessly felt yourself move forward; sex-clung darkness draped over your bodies as you pushed yourself through the door, slamming your lips against his in heated desperation. Link returned your fervor with a fluidity that made you wonder if he’s fantasized about this as much as you have. You cocked your heel against the door, shutting out all unwanted light to carry out your feral desires in the dark.

He pressed you against the thin slab of wood, rough hands claiming residence in the plush of your hips while his lips conveyed a primal urge to claim. You didn’t hesitate in welcoming his tongue, feeling the hot muscle drag against your bottom lip and wrapping itself with your own in a sloppy but passionate dance. Thick golden locks tangled your fingers and you pulled him closer, closer, closer until his muscly frame was melded into yours.

He departed from your lips and quickly found refuge in the crook of your neck. His hot breaths dragged across your flushed skin, sending an anticipatory chill down your spine as he speckled your softness with nips and butterfly kisses. Large hands explored what they could, never settling in one place for long while his lips began imprinting deeply-colored marks by the junction of your neck and shoulder. His grabs and kneads were desperate, as if he fully believed that at any moment you would depart from him forever, leaving him with a ghost of what could have been.

Your chest heaved into his. Colors you’ve never seen before danced before your eyelids in a pandemoniac parade while hellish flames seared through your core. Link lapped and kissed and teethed your neck, relishing in the bit-back mewls that occasionally leaked out of you. The moonbeams that had passed through the clouds applauded the red desire he worked into your skin and Link felt a surge of boldness rush through him. After speckling your rising and dipping chest with his spit, he dropped lower and lower.

The cold absence of his hands didn’t go unnoticed by you, and before you could process what was going on, the unfamiliar cold that whipped your exposed legs pinched a yelp out of you. In one smooth motion, the Hero of Hyrule was under your dress and kissing the pillowy softness of your thighs—as he always dreamt of doing—silently worshipping Hylia’s masterpiece.

And oh, how he worshipped you. How each fiery, wet kiss was a prayer of gratitude to the goddess for creating someone like you. How every bite, every mark he left you with was all in the name of you, his true deity, and your moans that served as his gospel. By the end of the night, he was determined to have you chanting his name like some mantra that would bind you two past a one night stand.

Your heart roared in your ears, anticipation for where his lips would fondle next nearly causing the overworked muscle to implode; your legs nearly gave out when you felt his teeth graze the edge of your drenched panties. The lace dragged and coiled into a thin strip as Link buried his face into your sex, relishing the ambrosia he was to partake in. Before that though, his lips traced a languid line to your hips, which was promptly suckled and bitten with the gentleness of a doe. His fingers hooked themselves under your panties and, with painfully slow movements, dragged the nuisance down your hips, your thighs, and finally, the ground. With all obstacles out of the way, Link turned his attention back to your throbbing lips, licking his own with the hunger of a starved animal.

He wasted no time in burrowing himself into you, tonguing and lapping the juices that have dared to slip out and refusing to waste a single drop. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he completely lost himself in you, rubbing tight circles into your clit with his thumb while drinking up whatever you could give him with his mouth. You bunched the noisome fabric about your waist, desperate to sink your fingers into his hair. He chuckled at your slightly buckling knees, and a wonderful idea flashed through his head.

He threw one of your legs atop his shoulder, and his heart nearly gave out from the sheer joy of seeing you spread like this. The new position allowed him deeper access into you, and a lone finger soon replaced his tongue’s sinful ministrations as the latter wrapped and toyed with your puffed-up bud. A full moan lapsed out of you in earnest and you unknowingly tightened around his digit. Link’s cock tented painfully against his pants, but he was set on having you cumming all over his face before he even thought about touching himself.

One of your hands anchored itself in his hair, knotting his disheveled locks into messy bunches that only grew wilder the faster he went. Uneven, haggard breaths and pleas for more echoed off his walls and Link had never been more pleased to carry out a request. His fingers and tongue would take turns wrecking you, never giving your poor clit and drenched entrance a break as he tongue-fucked and fingered you closer and closer to blissful oblivion. Link knew the milky white end was in sight, and he eagerly pressed his tongue flat against your cunt.

“Cum for me… Fuck, give it to me. I need you to cum in my mouth…”

His filthy request buzzed mind-shattering tingles to the deepest parts of your core, finally tipping you over the edge. You fell from a high you’ve never experienced before and your orgasm was borderline violent. A silent scream left your gaped mouth and you collapsed, panting, quivering. Link’s heart and ego swelled at your blissed out face as he leisurely wiped the juices dribbling down his chin. He scooted closer to you and pressed a deep kiss against your lips, leaving traces of you in your mouth. He pulled away with a pop, a smile, and an effortless huff as he carried you to his bed.

You were still fighting to regain some semblance of normal breathing when he set you down on his sheets. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead and pulled away, taking a moment to relish in how you looked in your sensual vulnerability. His pulse quickened and his pants tightened further, eager for release, but Link was patient. He waited for your breathing to slow, caressing your cheeks and cooing praises into your ears. His tenderness was enough to almost lull you to sleep.

“(F/N)…” Adoration dripped from his tone. “Can we go further?”

You opened your eyes slightly and practically melted from the gentleness in his voice and the care in his eyes. With a soft, albeit tired smile, you nodded and traced small circles into his cheek. Puppy-like enthusiasm exuded off him and he kissed the tip of your nose, plucking a small giggle out of you.

“Just relax… I’ll take care of you.”

He worked the hem of your dress into a bulky bunch by your hips before throwing the whole thing over your head and gently discarding it on the floor. A soft, wonder-filled smile cracked his lips as he drank in all of you.

“You look beautiful… You are beautiful…” He murmured to the air, voicing his most private thoughts aloud. A slightly pruned finger traced down your sides. A shiver ran through your body and his name whimpered out of your mouth.

“Say it again.” He breathed shakily. “My name. Say it again.”

“Link…” You flushed under his piercing gaze. His expression flickered darkly for just a moment before his eyes crinkled warmly.

“You have the prettiest voice, you know that?” He nuzzled into your neck. “I can listen to you for hours.”

“Link…” You cradled his face in your palms. “You don’t… have to hold back. I’ll let you know if anything hurts.”

His eyes widened before a small chuckle left him.

“We’ll get there eventually, I promise. For now though…” His lips coupled with yours in tender obsession. “I want to make you feel good tonight.”

While his lips reunited with your own, his fingertip traced lazy patterns from your chest, down to your stomach with swirly circles, and finally in between your legs. He moved his hands with battle-hardened precision, skirting around your still-pulsing clit, being extra careful not to overstimulate you yet. The simple trail coaxed the neediest whine out of you and you jutted your hips up and down, side to side. You could feel him smile into the kiss.

“Eager, are we?” He purred, skimming the surface of his lips on your cheek before redirecting his efforts towards your nipples.

"Gods, look at you... You're so beautiful all spread out like this, just for me." His tongue swirled and sucked the perked bud while your other nipple rolled in between his thumb and index. He dragged the tip of his tongue from one nipple to the other, repeating the process again and again until he was satisfied with the glistening rawness. A long moan, honeyed with need and fringed with desire, escaped you as your back arched in toe-curling pleasure.

His fingers hastened their movements, circling the hardened pearl with calloused finger pads and teasing your slit, sometimes dipping the beginnings of a finger past its entrance. But it was never enough. Never, ever enough. Your pleas and cries and begging only sent Link further down this power trip, molding your sex-steeped senses however he wanted until you were a sobbing, hiccuping mess.

“Please Link…” You sputtered in between sobs, the knot in your gut constricting and loosening in sync with his tease. “I need you inside, please, please, please…”

“Shh…” He murmured, silencing your chants with a soft kiss. “Patience.”

“Link, please, I-I can’t—“

“Yes you can. Just a little more… Show me more of those lewd expressions.” A rough pinch on your clit scored a scream out of you and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. “Good girl… So pretty for me. You’re all mine, aren’t you?”

“Yes! Gods, yes! I’m all yours Link, so please—“

Your voice sputtered to a stop, caught in edged ecstasy as the friction you had been craving for for the past Hylia-knows-how-long was suddenly served at blinding speeds.

“This is what you wanted, right?” He cooed, his chill tone contrasting the growing flush in his cheeks. You squirmed and writhed uselessly under him as your mind blanked and reeled from the sudden onslaught of pleasure.

“T-Too fa— Link, you’re—! I’m—!”

You were practically catapulted into your next orgasm, but despite your shaking release, Link never let up—in fact, he picked up his pace until veins marbled the surface of his arms. Another orgasm was ripped out of you, then another, and another, all while Link whispered,

"Oh, sweet girl, I know you can do it. I know you can cum one more time... Just one more, c'mon..."

Nothing else mattered to you at that moment. Nothing in the world could pull you out of the ecstasy Link had so readily given you. The only sensations you were capable of feeling were the coiling and spasming release of your gut as the man before you worked you into a mindless little thing. Link’s heart swelled at the fucked-out, dazed look on your face and he finally released his cock from its clothed prison.

"Do I have permission to fuck you senseless?" He husked into your ear, tending to his weeping cock with the residual slick left on his fingers. You nodded your head vigorously, dumbed down to your most base desires.

He slotted himself in between your legs, rubbing and dipping his tip a little bit past your entrance before his patience snapped in time with his hips. A gaspy whine rasped out of both of you, thickening to sweet, candied moans for more.

You were so tight… So warm... So wet… He closed his eyes and steadied his breathing—a concentrated attempt to not just immediately cum on the spot. Link stretching you out choked a groan out of you and your arms clung tightly about his neck, clawing desperate lines into his back.

"Gods, you feel so good... So tight for me... You're just made for me, aren't you? Made to take my cock..."

His fingers doled soft dips into your hips, coaxing the tight muscles into releasing their tension. All you could do was nod fervently, your voice too hoarse and mind too fogged to formulate any words. Link pervaded every single one of your thoughts, and all you could really muster was a gaze into his darkened blues, glazed over with lust. It took every ounce of mental fortitude to keep Link from pounding you into his bed; he softly kissed away the tears that threatened to spill.

"I'm gonna start moving now... Are you ready?"

A nod; Link positioned himself until your noses were almost touching, braced his hands on either side of your head, and slowly rocked his hips. The simple, fluid motion ellicited a moan out of the man and a whine out of you, electric pleasure shocking you to your core. His watchful gaze gauged your reactions, your comfort always at the forefront of his mind.

He flooded you with kisses and deluged your senses in heartfelt tenderness. Your head rolled into his arm, nuzzling him, and he smiled softly.

"You're so cute... My heart just explodes whenever I see you..."

"Liiink..." You reached up to caress his cheek. He pressed further into your hand before turning his head and kissing your fingers.

"You're perfect. Everything about you is gorgeous." He breathed, his hips slipping into a racy tempo. Your breasts pooled and trembled with each thrust, which didn't go unnoticed by the starved knight. Sounds of wet suckling filled his room, accompanied by your airy mewls and calls for his name.

"Say my name..." He growled into your chest, eyes flitting to look at you through quivering lashes. "Say it again."

"Link..." You squeaked, hiding the lower half of your burning face behind trembling hands.

"Louder." A hand clutched your wrists and dragged them down, fully exposing your slutty expressions to his hawkish eyes.

"Link...!"

"Louder." He scurried to the crook of your neck and bit down. "I want everyone in this castle to know who's fucking you breathless."

"L-Link!"

His pace quickened, the steady rhythm degenerating into wild pistoning. Shaky, uneven breaths stretched into high-pitched whimpers while his hand fondled your abused clit, repeating the circling motion that had you seeing stars several minutes (hours?) ago. His lips traced the shell of your ear, your jaw, down your neck, and finally your lips. Again and again, his mouth met yours in messy passion, each kiss more crazed than the last. He pulled away just enough to see your sloppy expressions, a thin strand of spit connecting your moistened tongues.

"Can you cum for me one more time? Just one more, I promise."

"I can't, I can't—Link, I'll die—“

"No you won't, love." He crooned. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, just in time to see stars exploding into a symphony of colors. "Just one more. I know you can do it."

Your face scrunched in response to the nearing summit, the precipice that you had been thrown over more times than you could count. You could feel your core spasming and knotting and folding in on itself; Link was totally immersed, body and soul, in your essence as he neared his own powerful climax.

"You're all mine." He panted, his hips accentuating each word with increasing ferocity. "Mine, mine, mine."

A tremor unlike anything you've ever felt before rattled your bones. A voice unrecognizable to you called for Link as you released all over his twitching cock and sheets. Your violent clenching rocketed Link to cloud nine, who pulled out just in time to cover you with thick, white ribbons. His warmth splattered onto your thighs, your stomach, your chest—all of which still tingled from his earlier acts.

His quaking frame crumbled, landing squarely on top of you. Your breaths hitched and mixed with each other, and a satiated silence enveloped the room. Once Link had mostly recovered, he heaved himself off of you and draped a lazy arm over your spent form.

"Are you okay?" He rasped, smoothing the sweaty nest that your hair had become. "Let me clean you up."

You tried to lift an arm—a finger even—to assure Link that you were okay but gods if you had to exert any more effort you were certain you would disintegrate. Link swung his legs over the bed, tripped into his boxers, and hobbled over to a pitcher sitting on his desk. The clear sounds of liquid life flowing into a bowl were like music to your ringing, pulsing ears.

In just a few moments he was by your side, bowl, towels, and cups in hand. You tried to sit up, but the bed stuck to your back like a bond that could not be broken. The rough cloth gingerly wiped away Link's earlier messes, and he dipped the other towel in the bowl before patting your face with the same degree of care. The cool water against your flushed skin sent pleasant jolts through your body.

"How are you feeling?" He asked again, pressing his palm into your cheek and pulling you up to drink. "Are you hurt anywhere? Was I too rough?"

You took the most refreshing swig of water in your life, feeling your parched throat soften enough for use.

"I'm okay, Link." You croaked at last. How long had it been since you last spoke coherent sentences? "Thank you for taking care of me."

"Of course." His warm smile alighted butterflies in your stomach; however, his features faltered slightly and his eyes turned downcast. "I, um..."

Quiet hesitance warbled his voice into a gut-wrenching tune; you gently cupped his hands, running your thumbs over each scar as you steadily held his gaze.

"I don't want this to be a one-time thing, I want..." He sucked in a quivering breath. "To be with you."

A kiss, soft and sweet, silenced all the doubt pounding away in his chest. Your lips moved purposefully, taking time to convey all the pent-up feelings that had been swirling inside you for so long. You dangled your arms behind his neck as you pulled away, your eyes fluttering open to meet his blown-out pupils.

"I want to be with you too."

Relief unfurrowed his brows and relaxed his jaw.

"Really...?"

"Yes! Though to be honest, I've always pictured our first few moments together as a couple in a more... innocent setting." You gestured to... everything and Link's belly flexed in laughter.

"So did I. But gods..." His lips ghosted the curve of your shoulder, traveling up your neck, and ending at your ear. "You felt so good, (F/N)..."

"L-Link..." You whimpered, your body lowering back down while your now-lover towered above you. Without warning, an arm snaked under your knees and the other wrapped behind your back. With a yelp, you spilled into his arms and two towels fell into your lap.

"The baths are just around the corner." A soft warmth bloomed on the center of your forehead. "Let's get cleaned up, shall we?"

♤♢ ~ bonus scene ~ ♡♧

"Your Highness, are you sure about—?"

"Yes, yes! I've already got it all figured out. All you have to do is pack your things and go!" Zelda shoved two official-looking documents into your arms and scooted you and Link closer to the door. Your dug heels were no match for the princess's sudden prowess.

And what could those documents possibly be?

Why, records of a cabin rental in Faron Woods, of course!

"B-But what about Link? He's your personal knight, after all."

"I've already arranged security details with one of the squadrons. They will be watching over me until you both get back. In regards to who will be overseeing your duties, I have a few staff members who will help me keep track of everything."

"Your Highness—"

"It's decided!" Zelda exclaimed with more effort, her energy sapped from lugging two unwilling bodies. "You both have been working so hard, so I've been thinking about giving you a weekend off for awhile. Now that you're a couple, this is a perfect chance to have your own little romantic getaway!"

"Wait, Princess Zelda..." Link started slowly, the gears in his head churning away. "It says here there’s only one bed. If you didn't know we were a couple until now... Why did you prepare a cabin with a single bed for the two of us?"

"That...!" Though your back was toward the royal, you could clearly see the 'oh shit' expression on her face. The corner of Link's mouth twitched into an amused smile while your cheeks scarleted.

"Zel, I swear to Hylia, I'm—"

"—gonna have a wonderful time in the woods where you can be as loud as you want. Farewell, and safe travels!"

With one last push, Zelda managed to shove the two of you out of her office before a resounding slam sounded the finality of her decision. But Zelda's closing remarks hung in the air, thickening the atmosphere in blood-chilling realization.

"What's wrong?" Link's sing-song voice mismatched the gravity of of the situation.

"Oh gods... Oh gods oh gods oh gods... How many people do you think heard us last night?"

"Enough for the whole castle to know who fucked you breathless." His face lowered until you were eye-level with his mischievous simper.

"Link!"

"Her Highness was right—you are fun to tease."

"LINK!!!"

[bettysupremacy]

idk if you write for finnick.. but could you write something where it’s the beginning of the quarter quell and he can’t find her? Just pure panic as he runs around the cornucopia?

I’ve never written for him before but I love him! idk how I feel about this but I hope truly that u like it.

Icy hot terror is all Finnick feels when the timer hits one. Loud and disorienting, the bang ripples against the water in vibrations that rumble under his feet.

Where are you?

The sun blares disgustingly into his eyes and skin, an obvious manipulation of the gamemakers sick amusement, but he ignores it, plunging into the only water he’s ever dreaded to tread. You’re not in sight. He’d told you to stay away, to swim, to run as far away from the cornucopia as you could. Don’t risk it, he’d shaken your shoulders, listen to me I’ll find you.

The water is warm and gross against his skin. It’s not as refreshing as the district four that he’s familiar with. It’s hot and fake. He comes up gasping for air, letting the terror settle into his bones as he pushes against the current of a manipulated riptide. Katniss climbs the stone so he does too; pushing his feet deeper into the ground with every step he takes. His breathing is labored, jagged as he runs. He can’t find you, but he will. He can’t find you, but he can find a weapon.

The cornucopia glistens in the sun, never lacking the weaponry he’d expected from it. Bows, arrows, knives, he eyes a backpack stuffed with supplies. Could he lug it with him? Probably not. He diverts his eyes to the trident beside him. Perched in its stand, it gleams in artificial sun as the grip molds to his fingers. He squeezes the deadly lifeline.

The sound of metal on metal scrapes behind him. Katniss. He turns quick, flashing the bangle around his wrist tauntingly. “Good thing we’re allies, right?”

She breathes hard in front of him, eyebrows pulling as she pauses in bated confusion. The weapon doesn’t lower. “Where did you get that?”

“Where do you think?” He gravels, quick enough to be considered panicked. “Duck.���

She listens, dropping to the floor hard enough to sting the weeping palms she balances on. The sick squelch of his trident in the fallen tribute is covered by her hands tight over her ears as she waits for the boom. The gong sounds, and then a scream. An unmistakable scream. It settles in his stomach and throat thickly, sweating his already wet hands. You didn’t listen.

“Finnick!” The voice screams. Sobs. “Finnick! Finnick!”

The sound is nightmare-ish. Something the gamemakers could never manipulate that accurately, and deep down he knows it’s the sound you’ll wake him up from if you ever gets out of this arena alive.

“I’m coming!” His feet hit hard against the gravel as he sprints. His breathing dries his throat quick. “I’ve got you!”

“Finnick!”

“I’m coming-“

The moment skids to a halt as he finds you. Trapped in the arms of a larger, broader tribute, you struggle for air as he headlocks you. He considers doing something rash, but Katniss behind you shakes her head. Like she can see it in his eyes. It’s a slow, quiet moment, hunter quiet as she stalks closer. Finnick eyes her wary to give her away.

“We can talk about this.” Finnick rationalizes slowly. “It’s the beginning of the game.”

“So?” His arm tightens around your neck. Your squeak breaks Finnicks heart.

“Finnick.” You strain.

“Give the viewers what they want.” Finn pleads. “A show. You can’t kill her so quick.”

“I don’t see a bargain being made.”

A bargain? It’s the first ten minutes and he stands next to a gleaming cornucopia filled with sharp armory. He could get something better than a simple metal trident. Throwing knives, poison, a machete. Finnick suspects the victor is doing what he pleaded. Giving the audience a show.

“Take my trident!” He nearly crashes, cool demeanor dropping as he watches you tap the man’s arm in panic, your air slowly constricting. “Give me her.”

It sickens Katniss; the ability to kill someone for views. To feed into the capitals agenda. This is a necessary kill, she reasons, this isn’t for her own survival. This isn’t a selfish homicide; this is Rue in the net, Prim on the stage. This is the girl she could save. Katniss’ fingers loosen, letting the elaborate metal fly from her grip. It hits the nameless career in the back. Her target.

The moment slows in Finnicks eyes. Katniss stands far, arms hanging limply at her sides. She stares at him, grateful for the thankfulness in his eyes that eases her burdened chest.

“Y/N.” He gasps as the man falls hard on you. He runs, helping you from under the heavy weight. “I’ve got you now.”

“Finn.” You weep, hands in his as he lifts you. You stumble, crashing into him hard. He hears a sob in his tribute suit. “I’m sorry.”

“I told you to listen to me.” He doesn’t anger, but this feels close to it as he grips you tightly. “I told you to run.”

You heave, greedy for fresh air, but your lungs are infiltrated by the heady scent of salt water. His hand calms the coughs that rake through your chest, guilty for his scolding. It’s a quiet moment in the calamity of the bloodbath, a stolen moment that he can’t afford to prolong another second.

“Cmon,” He eyes you, hands cupping your face, then falling as he looks up to Katniss. “Let’s go find Peeta.”

[scarletssienna]

I Only See Daylight

Summary - Weekends in with your girlfriend are your favorite. They’re even better when she makes your favorite cookies. 1.3k words

Warnings - fluff, fluff and smut, dom!sub undertones, mommy Wanda, fingering, orgasm denial, biting, praise, hair pulling, begging

AN- mommy Wanda is my absolute favorite. Can be read as a standalone or as a little blurb of the mommy coffee shop fic

18+, minors/men dni

Mundane summer mornings were always your favorites. The simplicity in the days when Wanda didn’t have work. The way her footsteps would fall gently across the wooden floor. When she would wake you up in the morning with gentle kisses and promises of pancakes. The sun would just barely peek through the curtains. When you would yawn and rub your eyes and she smothered you with love. Those were the best days.

Today, you laid on the couch, snuggled up with your favorite blanket while Wanda hummed along in the kitchen to one of her favorite songs. You had assumed she was just making an afternoon snack but when she took longer to return accompanied by much noise of pots and pans banging around you curiously went to investigate. You wandered into the kitchen, pink socks with tiny bows sliding across the floor. You had simply deemed getting dressed on the weekends to stay in was unnecessary. So there you stood, in a long t-shirt and panties, smiling at the girl in the kitchen in front of you. She hadn’t noticed your quiet approach so you took the surprise route. Quietly you snuck up behind her, wrapping your arms around her waist and peppering kisses across her back. She yelped softly at the surprise of you before turning around and wrapping her arms around you closely.

“Hi there Detka,” she hummed happily as she pressed a kiss to the top of your head, letting you snuggle in close to her chest.

“Whatcha doin?” You asked, closing your eyes as you leaned into her embrace. She hummed above you and kissed the top of your head, her hands wandering across your body.

“Making your favorite cookies.” She said with a smile as her hands rested on your ass, grabbing a handful. Her wandering hands were no distraction to you. It was typical and you were used to her groping and grabbing hands as she had told you many times ‘Mommy shouldn’t have to keep her hands off of what’s hers.’ Your head lifted and your eyes glistened when she told you.

“Chocolate chip!?” You exclaimed excitedly as you looked into her eyes. Though a frown formed across Wanda’s face.

“Chocolate chip? Oh darling, I thought your favorites were the sugar cookies.” She said, biting her bottom lip. You quickly looked away from her, settling your head back on her chest to hide your disappointment.

“That’s okay.” You mumbled quietly, causing Wanda to grin and squeeze your ass again.

“I’m just teasing, pretty girl, I’m making the chocolate chip cookies.” She chuckled and reached over grabbing a chocolate chip off the counter and placing it in your mouth. You looked back up excited and happily took the chocolate into her mouth, biting her fingers before she could pull them away quick enough. She chuckled and pressed her fingertip to your nose and shook her head. “Wanna help Mommy finish them up?” She asked with a smile. You nodded in response and pulled back from her embrace a little so that you could help her. She walked over to the counter, grabbing your hand softly to pull you along. She stood behind you, arms wrapped around you as she measured out a few of the ingredients, handing them to you to pour in the bowl. One of her hands worked along with you while her other one rested happily holding and playing with your tit. Your happiness was undeniable. Though it quickly faded when she handed you the whisk and you immediately spilled half the dry ingredients all over. The guilt of messing up the cookies took over and you instantly stepped back, forgetting she was right behind you. She caught you in her embrace and pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

“It’s okay, here. We can clean it up.” She stepped to the side and scooped the ingredients back into the bowl. You nodded a little as you watched her. She grabbed the other ingredients and cracked an egg into the bowl before passing the other to you. “Here.” She hummed with a smile. You smiled a little and walked over, cracking the egg into the bowl. Except there were several egg shells that made their way in as well. When you messed up again tears filled your eyes and you stepped away. Wiping your hands off onto your shirt.

“You finish them.” You said in only a whisper causing Wanda to quickly walk over to you. She cupped your face in her hands and pressed soft kisses across your face.

“Shh Detka, it’s okay. The cookies are going to be just fine. You sit here while Mommy finishes these up.” She said as she held you closely in her arms. You sniffled and settled in her arms. She then walked over and tapped a clean spot on the counter for you to sit. She set a small pile of chocolate chips next to you to keep you occupied while she finished up the cookies. When the cookies were finished and on a pan she put them in the oven before setting a timer and walking over to you. She pushed your legs apart, settling between them as her hands began to wander across your body again. “You were feeling some big feelings back there weren’t you pretty girl?” She asked in a sultry tone as she pouted out her bottom lip. You nodded and sighed at her touch. Her fingertips danced between your thighs before sliding up your chest and under your shirt. “You have no reason to be thinking Detka, pretty little girls like you don’t need to do that.” She hummed, pinching your nipple between her fingers causing you to arch your chest towards her with a moan.

She slid her other hand into your hair. She tangled her fingers and pulled you into a sloppy kiss. You eagerly kissed her back. Your tongues moving at a messy pace you couldn’t quite follow. With a swift tug she pulled your head to the side, kissing and nipping at your neck, leaving ample marks as she moved.

“Mommy please.” You whimpered desperately as you bucked your hips into her. Her hand moved down into your panties. A grin spread across her face as she watched your pleasure grow. You moaned at her touch, her fingers tenderly swirling across and around your clit. She was careful to avoid, wanting to tease. You closed your eyes, letting your head fall onto her shoulder as you moaned. Groaning out her name, your moans became frequent as she worked you up quickly. Her fingers slipped inside you slowly causing you to buck your hips again. She softly tisked and halted her movements. When you stilled she continued, moving at a slow, painful pace. “Mommy.” You whimpered. She couldn’t resist your sweet sounds for too long. Her hand picked up speed and her thumb went to your clit. The change in pace and rhythm caught you by surprise. You let out a loud moan as you softly bit at her shoulder to stifle it. You grew towards your orgasm quickly. But just as quickly as it started suddenly it all stopped.

The timer went off with a loud annoying ding causing Wanda to step back from you. She pulled her fingers out and pushed them up to your lips. Whimpering loudly when she pulled her fingers out you complained.

“Mommy no.” You whined, causing her to stick her fingers into your mouth. You took the fingers into your mouth, sucking them clean before releasing them with a quiet pop. With her other hand she turned the timer off before walking away from you. She put on an oven mitt and pulled the cookies out of the oven. You watched her, pressing your thighs together as you whined, impatiently for her to return.

“Hush sweetheart.” She hummed and walked over with a cookie while she blew on it. “We have to be quick, I have some work in the garden to do.” She hummed with a smile. “Have a treat while Mommy has hers.” She said with a smile as she passed the cookie to you and squatted down, settling her head between your thighs.

[luckystay]

One Step Too Far

idol!bang chan x manager!fem!Reader

word count : 3k

a/n : this is my first time writing smut so bare with me now!!

Content Warning: smut, fingering, argument, cheating

Minors DNI

The clock ticked past 1 a.m., and the studio felt heavier with each passing second. You lay on the worn leather couch, arms crossed tightly over your chest, your body aching with exhaustion. Across the room, I.N sat in the recording booth, his head bowed as he sang the same line over and over. His voice cracked slightly, but he pushed on, even as his shoulders slumped further with every take.

Chan, seated at the control board, hadn’t looked up in hours. His focus was unrelenting, his hand hovering over the controls as he tweaked and adjusted, chasing some invisible standard only he seemed to see. It didn’t matter to him that I.N was obviously running on fumes or that you were tired of sitting in this room, the weight of the day pressing down on you. It didn’t even matter that you had a life and a boyfriend waiting for you at home and you’re not just stray kids’ manager.

You sat up slowly, the irritation bubbling inside you stronger than the fatigue weighing down your body. Chan wasn’t going to call it. You could see it in his posture, the stubborn set of his shoulders. If you didn’t step in, this would go on until morning.

Without sparing him a glance, you stood, smoothed out your skirt, and made your way to the booth. You opened the door and turned to I.N, your voice firm but calm. “You’re done for tonight,” you said, leaving no room for argument. “Go home. That’s an order.”

I.N blinked, startled, but his relief was obvious. He hesitated only for a second, glancing toward Chan, who had finally stopped what he was doing to look over. His expression was tight, but you ignored it. I.N grabbed his bag and slipped out of the booth quickly, like he didn’t want to stick around long enough for anyone to change their mind.

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving just the two of you in the studio. The tension hit immediately, sharp and suffocating. You could feel Chan’s eyes on you as you turned back, crossing your arms and standing near the control board.

“You’re pushing him too hard,” you said, breaking the silence. Your voice was steady, but there was no mistaking the edge in it.

Chan’s jaw tightened. He leaned back in his chair, shifting slightly as his hips pushed forward. Against your better judgment, your eyes flickered downward, catching on the way his sweatpants hugged his thighs—thighs that looked criminally good thanks to the extra hours he’d been putting in at the gym. His forearms, revealed by the sleeves he’d pushed up, were a distraction all on their own, every muscle flexing with restrained tension. The effortless control he exuded made it harder to focus, a warmth creeping between your legs that you tried to suppress.

“I’m doing what I need to do,” he said, the sharp edge of his voice cutting through your haze and snapping you back to reality. His eyes locked on yours, unwavering. “This comeback has to be perfect.”

“At the expense of what?” you shot back, frustration lacing your words. “At the expense of them? Of you? He was exhausted, Chan. He could barely keep his eyes open!”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” he snapped, standing abruptly. The scrape of his chair against the floor was like a gunshot, “I see it, okay? I see everything. But this is what it takes. If we want to be the best, there’s no time for slacking off!”

Your chest tightened, and you exhaled through your nose. “Slacking off?” you repeated, “You think letting him rest after a full day of hard work slacking off? He’s not a machine, Chan, and neither are you!”

You could feel his frustration radiating through him as he argued, “If he can’t handle a little extra work, then maybe he’s not cut out for this.”

That was it. The last straw. Your heart drummed hard in your chest, “Do you even hear yourself right now? You’re supposed to be their leader, not their drill sergeant! You’re burning them out, and for what? Your idea of perfect? Which is completely unrealistic btw!”

Chan’s face hardened, his jaw muscles flexing as his eyes bore into you. His voice dropped, colder now. “Don’t act like you understand what it’s like to be me. You don’t. You have no idea the kind of pressure I’m under, the things I have to do to keep this group moving forward.”

Your pulse quickened, the anger now burning hotter than before. This wasn’t the first time he’d said something like that, not the first time he’d pushed you away, and not the first time you’d had to bury what you were feeling. Because even though the tension between the two of you was anything but professional, you’d never given in. He was the leader, and you were the manager. He had a job to do, and so did you. But the way he spoke, the way his eyes softened when they lingered on you, it was clear that something was there—something neither of you wanted to admit all these years.

You swallowed, trying to stay composed. “And you think I don’t feel that pressure too?” you fired back, not backing down. “This is my job too, Chan. I see what you’re going through, and I try to help, but you won’t let anyone in! You’re so obsessed with being perfect that you’re driving everyone—including yourself—into the ground!”

he took another step toward you, his voice rising now, matching your anger. “Because if I don’t, who will? Who’s going to make sure this comeback doesn’t fail? Who’s going to take the heat if we don’t measure up?”

the world around you blurred for a second. Your mind flashed back to the beginning when you first met bang chan. You immediately thought he was attractive—hell, who didn’t? He had that unspoken charm, that undeniable intensity that drew people to him. And, it wasn’t one sided, everyone could see the way he’d look at you too, the way his eyes would linger on your face, your body just a second too long when he thought no one was watching, the way he never denied you a request or told you no. But he always ended up pushed people away you’ve came to realize, kept everyone at arm’s length, including you.

while the chemistry between you two was undeniable, you’ve learned to push it aside. You couldn’t risk it. Plus, you had a boyfriend now, someone who understood the job and the long hours and the stress. But even then, there were times when Chan’s proximity, his touch, and that damn look in his eyes made it hard to breathe and it kept you awake at night with guilt.

“You think you’re the only one carrying this?” you said, your voice trembling with the weight of everything you’d been holding in. “Newsflash, you’re not. I’m here. The members are here. But instead of trusting us, you’re shutting everyone out and pushing until there’s nothing left. Is that how you want to lead?”

The silence that followed was thick, suffocating, and the air between you two felt like it could snap at any moment. Chan’s fists were clenched at his sides, the muscles in his arms visibly tightening. His eyes burned with a storm of emotions—anger, frustration, and something else you couldn’t quite place.

his breathing was heavier now, and you noticed how his chest rose and fell with every shallow intake of air. You wanted to look away, but you couldn’t. You were drawn to him, to the intensity that only he seemed to evoke in you.

Your gaze flickered to his lips, then to his eyes, still stormy, but with something darker. Something you knew all too well. Chan's gaze dropped to your lips, a slow, deliberate movement. His body was close enough now that you could feel the warmth coming off him. Your breath caught in your throat.

The space between you had never felt so charged, so filled with potential. Neither of you dared to move, all those moments where he had kept his distance, where you’d buried your feelings, where you tried to be professional going out the window.

You suddenly felt his hard grip on your waist, and it caught you off guard—his touch, so intense, so unlike anything he’d ever given you before. Your breath hitched, the warmth of his fingers pressing against your skin sending a rush of heat through your body. You had always been able to keep things under control, but now, with him so close, you realized why he had always kept his distance. Because this—this was too hard to back out of. This feeling, the sudden intensity of it all, was something that immediately made you crave more.

"You think I’m pushing them too hard?" he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. His lips grazed your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. “Am I pushing you too, uhmm…?"

His question made your stomach flutter. The way his hands tightened slightly on your waist made you feel every inch of his frustration, his desire, and it was clear that he wasn’t just talking about work anymore. His voice was lower now, more intense, and it made you feel like you wanted to throw yourself at him and merge together. His lips were just a breath away from your ear, and your body reacted before you could think.

Your hands found their way to his chest, fingers brushing against his shirt, trying to steady yourself, to remind yourself of where you were. But everything about him—his body, his musky scent, the way his voice trembled slightly with restraint—made it almost impossible to think clearly.

"Chan," you cried out, but the rest of your words caught in your throat as his thumb brushed across the skin of your waist, making you shiver. His grip was firm, but there was something softer in the way he held you now, like he was both desperate and careful all at once.

You didn’t have the strength to keep the distance anymore. The anger was still there, but it was quickly being replaced by something else, something more urgent. Your pulse was racing, your hands trembling as they gripped the fabric of his shirt feeling how firm his chest was, and you had to stop yourself from pulling him in. Because if you did, you might not be able to stop.

“Please, Chris” you breathed out.

His free hand, firm and warm, brushed the side of your face, his thumb trailing along your jawline as he tilted your chin up to meet his eyes. There was something different in his gaze now. No more anger, no more control—it was vulnerability, raw and unguarded, and it struck you harder than you anticipated.

His lips were just inches from yours, and for a heartbeat, everything stood still. It was like a moment suspended in time, a moment where neither of you could pretend anymore. The fight was over. The frustration, the tension—it was all just a gateway now, a bridge between you and him.

“Keep calling me Chris,” he said, his voice barely a whisper as his lips brushed against yours, just enough to make your breath stop.

And then, you felt his lips press against yours—slow at first, tentative, as if testing, as if waiting for you to pull away. But you didn’t. Your lips parted under his, and the kiss deepened, the heat between you growing unbearable.

His hands moved to your back, pulling you closer, his touch both needy and gentle. Every inch of your skin burned under his touch, and you couldn’t remember a time when you’d ever felt this drawn to someone. His lips were insistent now, hungry. Your body seemed to move of its own accord, desperate to close the distance, to press into him and feel him fully, finally.

He pulled away for a split second, his breath mingling with yours, a hot whisper against your lips. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he murmured, his voice strained with desire.

You could feel it in the way his fingers gripped your hips, in the way his chest heaved against yours. The tension felt primal.

As your hips pressed together, you felt him—hard and thick, pushing against. you’d always noticed the outline through his pants. Feeling it now, against you, was something else entirely. It sent a wave of heat straight through your body, making it hard to think straight.

“Chris…” his name left your lips softly, almost like a plea. You didn’t even know why you said it, but it made him pause for a second before his hands tightened on your waist.

He leaned in, his lips finding your neck. His kisses were slow but heavy, like he was testing the waters, each one driving more insane. He moved lower, to your boobs, his breath hot as he let out a low hum. “Hmm…” he mumbled against you, and the sound sent a shiver down your spine.

Chan's teeth grazed the soft skin of your boobs before he bit down roughly you knew it would leave a mark. You should have cared—you should have stopped him—but the way his mouth felt, the way his hands claimed you, made it impossible to think about anything else. You were completely lost in him.

One of his hands slid up your thigh, fingers brushing between you legs until they found their way where you wanted him most. He pressed against your soaked underwear, his movements slow but deliberate as he started rubbing you through the fabric. “Fuck,” he muttered, his voice low and full of heat. “I barely touched you and you’re dripping wet—like a virgin. That boyfriend of yours is not satsfying you, huh?”

before you could answer, he pressed harder on your cunt, drawing a pathetic whimper from your lips. He leaned closer, his breath brushing your ear. “Is that why you’ve been such a bitch lately? You just needed me to fuck the frustration out of you?”

The mention of your boyfriend slapped you in the face, dragging you back to reality for a moment. You almost forgot about him—about the person waiting for you at home, the one who trusted you. Shame and guilt clashed with the overwhelming pleasure Chan was pulling from you, leaving you frozen as his words hung heavy in the air.

Chan’s words hung in the air, daring you to respond. The way his fingers slid past the fabric of your underwear as he pushed one inside you left you gasping for breath. You knew this was dangerous, teetering on the edge of something you couldn’t take back, but the fire he ignited in you was too consuming to ignore.

Your hands gripped the front of his shirt, pulling him closer as your lips parted, whispering, “More.”

A dark, smug smirk tugged at his lips as he slipped in another finger without hesitation. “You’re so greedy,” he muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. His free hand gripped your hips, adjusting them just enough to let him reach deeper, finding the spot that had your knees threatening to give out.

Your back arched against the wall, each deliberate movement of his fingers sending ripples of pleasure through you, throwing any last bit of control you had out the window.

He leaned in, lips just brushing against yours but not quite connecting, teasing you, testing your patience. “Say it,” he murmured, his breath hot against your mouth, his voice full of raw intent. “Say you want me.”

The words felt heavy on your tongue, your pride and guilt fighting against the overwhelming desire coursing through you. But then his fingers pushed deeper, his thumb brushing over your clit in slow, deliberate circles, and all hesitation vanished. “I want you,” you admitted, your voice shaking but sure.

As soon as the words left your lips, Chan kissed you, hard and possessive. His mouth devoured yours, claiming you like he had every right to, his tongue sliding against yours as his hand moved inside you like an expert. His fingers worked you relentlessly, drawing out sinful moans, even as his other hand tangled in your hair, pulling you closer, desperate for more.

Your back arched as his hard-on pressed against your thigh, the thin layers of clothing between you barely enough to keep the heat at bay. His growl vibrated through you, each thrust of his fingers sending a shock of pleasure through your body. “God, you’re so sensitive,” he muttered, his voice thick with desire. “Does he even touch you?”

“Stop,” you managed, your voice shaky with both frustration and need. “Don’t talk about him.”

But Chan only smirked, his eyes darkening with possessiveness. His fingers didn’t slow, they only deepened, pressing into you harder. “Why? Are you thinking about him now?” he  mocked, his voice dripping with jealousy. “Does he make you feel this good? Bet he doesn’t even know how to make you cum, does he?”

Your heart stuttered, a burst of guilt and anger flaring up. You hated that he was right. Hated that your body was betraying you, reacting to him in ways you hadn’t felt before. You tried to push the thoughts of your boyfriend away, but the way Chan’s fingers moved inside you, so sure and commanding, made it impossible to think of anything else.

“Look at me,” Chan demanded, his voice sharp and insistent, pulling your attention back to him. His fingers slowed, but they never stopped, teasing you, driving you closer to the edge. When you finally met his gaze, his eyes were dark, focused, and intense—it made your pulse race.

“if im going to fuck you, atleast look at my face” he growled, his voice low and possessive. “I want you to remember who’s making you feel this way. Not him. Me.”

You gasped at the rawness of his words, at the way he claimed you with nothing but his touch and his voice. Your chest heaved with each shaky breath, your whole body betraying you as you leaned into his touch.

you could feel your body trembling, every nerve firing as if it couldn’t contain the mounting pleasure anymore. “Chris...” you gasped, your voice strangled, a plea more than anything, as your body arched up into him, your fingers clutching at his shoulders for support. His grip on you tightened, his movements deepening, pushing you to the very edge.

You were close and he could see it—the way you fought the need building inside you, the guilt and pleasure swirling in equal measure. he had you exactly where he wanted. “cum for me baby”

And then, with a sharp inhale, everything snapped. A flood of heat and pleasure consumed you, washing over you in waves, so intense it almost knocked the breath from your lungs. You felt yourself coming undone in his hands, your body trembling uncontrollably as the world around you blurred. His name escaped your lips in a breathless moan, as your legs shook and your heart raced—every inch of your skin alive, every thought consumed by the overwhelming feeling of being completely, utterly lost in him.

Chan groaned in response, his body pressed tightly against yours as he slowed, letting the aftershocks of your release roll through you, each lingering pulse making your body shudder once more.

Your chest rose and fell with uneven breaths as the last waves of pleasure faded, your body still humming from the intensity of your orgasm. Chan’s fingers brushed gently over your skin, a soft contrast to the desperation he’d shown just moments before. He looked down at you, his eyes softer now.

You swallowed, your throat dry, unsure of what to say. The weight of everything hung heavy between you. The moment was still too raw, too real. "That... that was..." you tried, but the words failed to come.

He let out a low chuckle, the sound rich with satisfaction. “I know,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over your forehead.

“I’m going to break up with him,” you said, your voice quiet but sure.

Chan’s expression softened just slightly, but he didn’t say anything right away.

As you regained some sense of your surroundings, your gaze drifted down, and you noticed his painfully looking boner, when your eyes met his again, he just smirked.

“I’ll take care of it,” he muttered, his voice low.

He reached up to brush a strand of hair from your face, and continued before you protested. “Get some rest. I’ve worn you out too much.”

You nodded, too exhausted to argue, and as he left, you couldn’t help but wonder what this meant moving forward.

[ericscroptop]

Like Honey

ʚ・ ୨୧・ ɞ ʚ・ ୨୧・ ɞ ʚ・ ୨୧・ ɞ ʚ・ ୨୧・ ɞ ʚ・ ୨୧・ ɞ

ʚ・ ୨୧・ ɞ ʚ・ ୨୧・ ɞ ʚ・ ୨୧・ ɞ ʚ・ ୨୧・ ɞ ʚ・ ୨୧・ ɞ

✧ pairing: bf! sunwoo x gf! reader

✦ genre: smut

✧ warnings: 18+ (minors DNI), smut, p!rn without plot, cursing, oral— female receiving, p!ssy drunk sunwoo, filthy sunwoo, fingering, dirty talk, squirting, praising, pet names, kissing, aftercare, sunwoo is in freaking love with you

✦ word count: 5k words

✧ synopsis: you and your boyfriend are getting ready for bed, and he can’t help but want a midnight snack.

✰ ∴ :: ∴ ✰ ✰ ∴ :: ∴ ✰ ✰ ∴ :: ∴ ✰ ✰ ∴ :: ∴ ✰ ✰ ∴ :: ∴ ✰

Spending time with your friends was always filled with boisterous laughter and excitement, but you were always left drained afterwards.

Tonight, you and Sunwoo had dinner with Chanhee and Changmin. It was frequent that you four spent time together since those two were some of Sunwoo’s bestest friends.

You adored them beyond words, but even if you could never become tired of them, your body signaled to you that you needed rest after a long day and time well-spent.

As soon as Sunwoo unlocked the front door and you entered your shared apartment, you immediately removed your shoes and put them on their respective spot on the shoe rack.

Exhausted, you trudged towards the bathroom, dreading removing your makeup but having to do so before you could finally hit the hay.

Entering the bathroom connected to your bedroom, you gather your makeup removal products and skincare, proceeding with taking it all off and washing your face. You then brush your teeth and rinse your mouth, doing all of it in comfortable silence while your boyfriend is getting out of his outside clothes and changing into something more comfortable in the bedroom.

When you’re done, you leave the bathroom and step into the bedroom, wearily smiling at Sunwoo. Of which, he reciprocates as he walks past you to begin his own night time routine.

You rustle through your drawers to pick out some sleepwear, opting with a plain white crop top and some basic black boy shorts. Some looser material would be ideal, but it seemed like a majority of your loungewear was in the hamper.

It felt a bit muggy all day to wear too much clothing to bed tonight. Even though air conditioning exists, you know with your boyfriend curled up next to you that he’d add even more heat onto your body. The less material on you, the better.

After changing, you grab the clothes you’ve shimmied off from the floor and head towards the laundry hamper tucked away in the closet in the bathroom.

You put away the dirty clothing, making a mental note in seeing how almost-full it is that you’d plan to wash tomorrow.

You catch sight of Sunwoo finishing up his own skincare routine, a white spa headband resting over his head, keeping his bangs pushed back while he washed his face.

You then navigate your eyes to his bare back, trailing all the way down to his bottom. Sweatpants hung low around his hips, leaving the waistband of his black Celine boxer briefs in clear view, exposed.

It’s kinda humorous and cute, seeing the juxtaposition of the soft headband with a bow on it adorning your boyfriend’s head while he was wearing pants that you and him both know damn-well outlined his cock deliciously and made his ass look great.

His body is well-toned, with his small waist, arm muscles that flexed unconsciously while proceeding with his night routine— or when doing anything for that matter, and his provocative back. You just admire lowkey half-asleep to yourself, appreciating all the duality he has to offer belongs to lucky you, and you only.

“Almost ready for bed?” you question, followed by an involuntary yawn. Sleep was calling your name, but you didn’t want to bury yourself under the covers until Sunwoo was concomitantly doing it with you.

“Yeah, baby.” he twists slightly to look in your direction at the sound of your voice, an arm raising up to remove the headband from his hair, those fluffy bangs of his bouncing out and hiding his forehead.

You stood under the doorway, right hand resting against the side of the doorframe, and left hand tucked behind your back with ankles crossed.

Sunwoo takes in your presence, his adam’s apple bopping as he swallows hard from his view.

His pupils were spellbound by you when he sees what you’re wearing. It’s hard to not notice the prominent buds that are your nipples clearly visible as the shirt you’ve chosen is snug and lightweight. As well as the outline of your areola’s, noticeable thanks to the bathroom lighting and due to the whiteness of your top.

Your bare legs are also left on display. Those tight cotton boy shorts highlight the curves of your body, and probably make your behind look damn-near perfect and plump. How dare you wear such tight-ass clothing to bed tonight? Are you aware that you live with a man who has carnal instincts and gets a hard-on just from listening to you speak?

As if you weren’t already beautiful enough, the compressed clothing only drew more attention to you. It accentuated every curve and dip of your body. Regardless what you thought about your body, Sunwoo always appreciated every inch of your skin. From your tummy, to any beauty, birth, or stretch marks, to your fleshy ass— all of it. He claimed and loved every part of you, internally and externally.

You shut your eyes for a moment, still in the same stance, pouting your lips cutely at Sunwoo. You don’t even realize what’s going on in your boyfriend’s mind right now, too sleepy to think clearly about anything. All you care about is him crawling into bed with you and catching some z’s.

Looking at you, Sunwoo smirks while he thinks you’re such an innocent little thing. Too tired to realize the effect you have on him right now. He could just eat you up.

And he might actually do just that.

Your eyes open back up as you hear him begin to take a couple steps forward, and your lips curl upwards thinking it’s time to actually go to bed.

Though as you begin to turn around, Sunwoo grabs hold of your wrist, stopping you before you can even get in a step.

You’re suddenly facing him, brows furrowed in confusion at him stopping you. He pulled you in against his chest, hands traveling smoothly down your body until they meet your rear.

He holds and palms at your ass through your underwear, wetting his lips with his tongue as he feels the bottom of your cheeks openly, left peeking out from the fabric.

His touchiness washes off any ounce of drowsiness you had momentarily as you register what he is leading into.

“I know what you’re thinking, but not tonight. I’m sleepy. We can have sex tomorrow, baby.”

Sunwoo merely sighs deeply, hands still on you as he continues to feel you up despite your words.

“Sweetheart…” he begins. “You cannot wear something like this and expect me to not wanna have my way with you.” he repositions his hands over either side of your waist, dragging his thumbs gently over your bare skin soothingly. You’re pulled off his chest, meeting his face, his eyes bearing desperation.

You bring your hands to his shoulders, massaging his muscles lovingly while shaking your head, honestly not surprised that your man is in the mood to play right now. When is he not?

“Most of my other pjs are dirty right now. Plus, I’m feeling kinda’ hot right now.” you simply say.

His thumb starts lazily playing with the waistband of your panties, flicking it against your skin. “Yeah? I’m also feeling kinda’ hot.” his eyes are solely trained on your underwear while he speaks, as if he were stuck in a trance.

You take a second to look down at his crotch, encountering the tantalizing tease of his package that is seemingly demanding attention.

He notices that you sensed his boner, biting back a chuckle once you shoot a glare at him.

“I’m just a boy.” he huffs out, sighing dramatically.

“Yeah, a horny one.” you scoff, about to playfully slap his hands off you before his quick reflexes catch them, his fingers enclasping with your own, now holding both your hands.

“Let me eat you out, gorgeous.” the lust behind your boyfriend’s dark brown eyes is heavily apparent. Although you were looking forward to slumber, your body begins to betray you and switch up. Your core can’t help but tingle, blood flowing to your pussy and swelling in excitement from Sunwoo’s words and fervent hunger for you.

“Please?” he whispers in front of you. Those big, beautiful brown eyes of his bore into yours, his hands still holding yours. His intense gaze and touch is causing your body temperature to increase even more, not just from the air.

His neediness is making you want to fold. The fact that he really is desperate to have a taste of you and focus the pleasures on you is saying a lot right now. He must really want you bad.

“Fuck, I just can’t say no to you when you look at me like that.” your top teeth capture your bottom lip for a moment, Sunwoo having possessed you and falling for his charms.

You were easy, but so was he. It was too easy to succumb to each other and be aroused when you two were infatuated with one another.

Sleep can fucking wait.

Sunwoo’s lips form a smile, cheering internally that he’s convinced you. He couldn’t help himself. He craved to show you how much he desired and felt about you.

His smile is still there as he dives towards your face, connecting his lips with yours. Your mouth opens and welcomes his, your hands thrown around his neck tightly as he slips his tongue into your mouth hungrily.

You each kiss one another amorously. His tongue brushes past your lips and dances with your own, stimulating yours and making your sex hormones spiral in excitement.

Sunwoo’s left hand pinches the skin on your waist, lost in your lips while his right hand grabs your jaw in attempt to keep you steady and as close to him as possible.

A hazy feeling inhabits your body, unable to think straight, just yearning for your boyfriend to keep attacking you insatiably with his lips. You’re already visualizing in your head him between your thighs with his mouth vibrating over your pussy, and that causes a moan to let loose from your throat in between open-mouth kisses.

“Fuckkk,” his chest rumbles as he breathes out and you pull away to catch your breath, shifting in place, anxious for more attention.

His hand that was still on your waist redirects to the other side of your untouched jaw. Now cupping your face, passion carried in his eyes as he searches every inch of your face, enamored by you.

“Tell me you want me to eat you out. Wanna hear you say it.” his intense stare makes you fidget. You crave for things to get going already but he always makes you lose any coherence. His bold nature always has you melting and shy, going dumb at his mere presence and flirtatious demeanor.

“Hm?” at your lack of immediate speech, those Bratz doll-like lips of his pout slightly, brows raised as he looks at you with pleading eyes, emphasizing with his teasing expression how he’s expecting you to use your words.

You’re unable to look away shyly as his hands still clutch to your face, no way of backing out. Curse Sunwoo and his ability to make you feel so weak and vulnerable.

You secretly loved it, though.

“Wa— Want your mouth on my pussy… please.” you shakily breathed, heart racing as you see the satisfied smirk on his face that appears at your words.

“Since you asked so nicely, I think I have to give my baby what she wants,” he says, in awe at how you do exactly what he asks. You’re just so perfect.

He pulls your face towards his own, lips locking once again. Only this time, the kiss is softer and more delicate. He held your face as he kissed you sweetly and slowly, soaking in the feeling of the warmth of your breath and the faint taste of the lip balm you would always apply at the end of your night routine.

Humming at the taste of you, he pulls away and wastes no more time, grabbing your hand and makes way towards the bed.

You take a seat on the edge of the bed, sitting up straight as Sunwoo towers in front of you.

He moves around the bed towards the headboard and reaches for a pillow, placing it right in the center of the sheets.

“Lay down for me, sweetheart.” he instructs.

You follow his dominance, allowing your back to fall slowly onto the mattress, the back of your head hitting the pillow he placed for you.

“Good girl. I’ll take care of you.” he murmurs, bringing a hand to your knee to stroke it affectionately. Every inch of your skin prickled with goosebumps from this angle, waiting for Sunwoo to touch you where you needed it the most.

He suddenly gets on the bed, your eyes widening slightly as his arms and legs are now on either side of you, holding himself up over your body. Those beautiful eyes of his settle on your breasts, cocking his head as he stares at them shamelessly, making your face redden at him ogling your chest.

“The girls are sitting pretty. So pretty that I think i’ll keep your shirt on.” he chuckles, diving his face down into one of your mounds and sucking a nipple through the tight material, causing you to whimper at his unexpected act.

He’s teasing you, taking his time sucking at both your erect nipples through your shirt, and fondles with your tits through the fabric, smirking and looking up at you as he does so.

Your thighs press together at how erotic this is, fingers clinging onto the sheets from how this is driving you delirious. His teasing is addictive but painful. You don’t know if you can be patient any longer.

“Sunwoo!” you whine, swallowing hard and your shaky breaths fill the room— music to his ears.

And he’s just getting started.

“God, you’re so sexy.” he practically growls, removing his mouth from your clothed tits and looking proudly at the wet patches of his own saliva he’s left stained behind.

He crawls off over you and off the bed, starting to kneel down and position himself on the ground, getting ready to feast in between your legs.

One of his calloused hands paw at your exposed stomach, feeling your tummy up and down, toying with your senses even more as his fingers slip under the waistband of your underwear every time he rubs down, coming in contact with your pubic region as he does so.

“Sunwoo, please…” you faintly beg. You don’t know how much more teasing you can take. Your pussy might as well be whining aloud at this point alongside you.

He’s eyeing your expressions, finding amusement in the way your brows creased, how your lips remained parted, and at your increase in breathing.

He then grazes his lips over your inner thighs, beginning to trail kisses over the skin. You can’t help but squirm a bit as he gets closer to the most intimate part of your body, causing him to keep his hand on your stomach, holding you in place.

“Hey,” he warns, making you whimper. “I know, sweetheart. But be good for me, ‘kay?”

He finally decides to end your sexual frustration and any more delay, thinking he’s played with your mind enough already to get you going.

And now, he should get to playing with that pretty pussy of yours.

His fingers hook around the waistband of your boy shorts, tugging them all the way down your legs.

Once fully off, he finds the gusset of your underwear, boldly bringing it to his nose and inhales with it making direct contact against his nostrils, feeling the dampness you’ve left behind.

“Mhmmm.” he sighs in pleasure of the arousing smell lingering, cock twitching in excitement, making you gasp and nibble on your bottom lip at the lewd scene. Watching as he visibly enjoys your dirty underwear, sending your mind into a fucking frenzy at how filthy he was.

He’s not embarrassed in the slightest at showing how attracted he is to you, and it makes you want to combust with cum just at that.

He stuffs the underwear in the pocket of his sweats for now, and his dominant hand finally seeks for your demanding region. He cups your sex and feels how warm you are down here, as well as the lubricating fluid you have produced thus far from sexual excitement.

You suck in a breath at his large hand greeting you, quickening heartbeat at the feeling.

“Awe, so needy, hm? She’s aching isn’t she?” his voice is laced with fake sympathy as he taunts you, eyes going back and forth between your own and your cunt as he speaks.

He has you whimpering desperately, making him snicker at the fact that only he can make you feel this way.

He dives in between your legs to press a kiss over your folds, emphasizing the pucker sound of his lips greatly. He then drags the broad, flat of his tongue up along your entire pussy, almost-painfully slow and leaving behind his spit.

“Ah, shit!” you moan, clenching the sheets in between your fingers, trying your best to not close your legs or squirm too much at the sensitive feeling. This is what you wanted, after all.

Sunwoo ganders over your glistening cunt, savoring how it’s served right in front of him. Extremely blessed that you present it to him and that he gets to call you his. He thinks this every-single time, and it’ll always leave him wonderstruck.

He takes a good whiff of your pussy, his throat rumbling as he groans from the smell of your arousal. Lusty to his nostrils.

“Always so fucking pretty, just like you, gorgeous.” he refers to your cunt and then to you, making you mewl like crazy.

He finally attaches his mouth fully onto your sex, beginning to suck and lick at your folds, his groans vibrating all over your cunt.

“Mmph— fuck! Sunwoo!”

His tongue parts through your pussy lips and licks open your hole. He licks and slurps hungrily as if you were a pudding cup, trying to reach every crack and crevice of your sex with his mouth. His saliva mixes with your arousal, creating a hot, wet mess down there.

You can’t help but arch your back at the intense devotion he’s showering to your cunt. Feeling like you’re so helpless as you don’t know what to do with all the pleasure coursing through your veins while his mouth makes love to your pussy.

Your dominant hand reaches out into Sunwoo’s fluffy locks, beginning to desperately tug onto his hair and pull it slightly, letting him know how he’s driving your senses crazy.

He raises his head up slightly, backing away from your folds momentarily, making you lose the grip on his hair. He licks his lips as he meets your gaze, drool starting to drip from the corners of his mouth.

“Got me so pussy drunk, baby.” he laughs, then starts attending to your cunt again.

His eyes are still locked with your own as he sticks an index and middle finger in his mouth together, coating them with the wetness of his mouth and pulls out with a soft pop.

Although you’re wet enough that you can take it without him having to lubricate them with his mouth beforehand, he does it for show, his cock throbbing at how heavy lidded your eyes are as you watch him in a awestruck daze.

Even with you knowing what’s coming, you still jolt as he inserts his two digits, hissing at the feeling of them sliding up into your hole.

He smirks as he crooks them just right, fingers curled while he pumps into your warm sex.

Those thick fingers of his now fill you up and you can’t help but continue to breathe heavily as a whole slew of sexual hormones are running untamed throughout your body.

Sunwoo then decides to simultaneously take care of your swollen clit, attaching his mouth back onto your pussy over the engorged bud, adding more feelings of euphoria to your mind.

Every-single nerve ending of your clit tingles from those pillowy lips of his and his tongue lapping around. You can’t help but buck your hips into his fingers and face, moaning nonstop from the stimulation of his fingers while he eats you.

“Sun— Su— Sunwoo.” breathless whines roll out of you.

“You like that? Yeah?” he breathes out in between sucks, smirking as his actions are making you lose control, moving uncontrollably and crying out his name.

He continues to drive his fingers in you nonstop, steadily thrusting them into you and brushing along your spongey walls.

Squishy noises from the amount of wetness your pussy is coated in fills the room, only encouraging Sunwoo to continue the pace and maintain suction on your bundle of nerves.

His fingers are hitting you just right— in that special spot. He feels your cunt clamp around his fingers, giving them a nice squeeze. Oh, you’re so tight and close, he thinks to himself.

Your boyfriend is drawn to the way you ball up the bedsheets within your fists. How you buck up your hips so eagerly. The way the expressions on your face are beautifully screwed up— brows furrowed, mouth left hanging, eyes rolling back and fluttering.

He’s rock hard in seeing and hearing your reactions, blood rushing and flowing to his genitals as yours do. So turned on from the control he has over you, bringing you immense pleasure from his touches, and drowned in the pretty noises your body is making from your mouth and cunt.

The exhilarating duo of his mouth and thick fingers is becoming overpowering to your brain and body. If possible than already is, your breathing starts getting heavier and whinier in a stronger manner at the feeling of your stomach tightening and pussy feeling so full.

Every muscle in your body squeezes at the intense pressure crashing over you. Your body is in so much heat, beginning to feel that familiar coiled tension that you know all too well. Though this time, it feels slightly different. It’s somewhat stronger, and almost unbearable to keep holding it in. And uncontrollable.

The sensation has you crying out Sunwoo’s name and mumbling brokenly. You’re suddenly growing teary-eyed, shaking your head from left to right as the strong urge to release is raging to be let free.

Sunwoo evidently hears and sees you struggling and coming close to crashing down, so he begins to encourage you to relieve yourself.

“Let it go, baby! Ride it out on my face and fingers.”

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare hold back.”

“Show me how much you love it. I wanna see you cum on me. Show me, baby girl.”

Soft tremors from the inside of your thighs build into your legs beginning to shake nonstop as you listen to his words— even in your mind-numbing daze— and so you swamp his face, fingers, and entire veiny hand with your fluids.

High pitched practically-screams leave your mouth instantly as your clear fluid gushes out and splashes up into your boyfriend’s face, teardrops running down your heated cheeks from the feeling of relief.

You’re left speechless at the awareness of the amount of release coming out of you. It’s an amount that is foreign to you, almost like you’re squirting.

Your squirts synchronize with the way your pussy is pulsing as you orgasm, all slippery and runny fluid washing down.

Too focused on your release bewitching you, you don’t even process how you’re affecting Sunwoo.

He has never heard you this insanely vocal in the times you shared any type of sex. Nor has he been blessed with witnessing this much fluid spouting out from your cunt.

He believes you have just squirted.

And he’s the sole reason why.

“Oh fuck, baby!” your pleasure amplifies his pleasure, his cock pulsating under his underwear, making him buck his hips shamelessly into the air.

He grunts and groans as he does so, into your sex as he slurps some of your fluids and essence into his mouth. So tangy and sweet to his tastebuds.

You’re just so fucking sexy and always never cease to amaze him.

It’s so fulfilling. The rewarding feeling that he made you get to this point. Your squirt coinciding with your cum. All this just for him. Because of him.

His body responds to how he feels about you and this erotic scene by blowing a hot load of cum in his underwear. He can’t even be embarrassed about it. Fuck it. That was beautiful.

Your ears are ringing and you’re dizzy, feeling like you’re going in-and-out of consciousness.

Meanwhile, Sunwoo is trying to catch his breath as he comes down from his orgasm, still eye-level with your pussy.

He looks like a glazed donut with your pussy liquids glistening his face. He licks the corners of his mouth and rubs whatever remains with the back of his hand, and backs away from your cunt.

He crawls over the bed towards your side at your shivering state and lack of words, and immediately brings his hand to your hair, massaging and caressing your head.

“Hey, baby, talk to me.” his voice gravelly.

“Mhmm.” you moan weakly, eyes closed and barely fluttering open.

“You were so good, sweetheart. So fucking good.” he praises, pressing tender kisses against the flesh of your cheek, attempting to bring you back to your regular state of mind.

“Stay awake for me. Gonna clean us up, ‘kay?”

Sunwoo quickly gets off the bed, scurrying to find the baby wipes and towel to clean you up before you knock out.

He cleans you up first, making you hiss slightly at the feeling of any contact towards your sensitive pussy after coming down, but he coos at you and says sweet nothings during the short process.

He notices some of your fluids have left the sheets under your lower region all soaked and stained. It was no problem to him— he didn’t care, but he’d have to change them super fast and unfortunately move you off the bed to do so.

You’re suddenly picked up momentarily by your boyfriend, and he starts to carry you out the room, towards the living room, and places you gently over the couch.

You feel less hazy now and eyes are more open, curious as to what Sunwoo was doing.

“Gonna change the sheets real fast and i’ll be back to grab you and then get you some fresh underwear.” he presses a kiss to the top of your head and you hummed, watching as he walked back into the room.

It didn’t take long for him to get on some fresh sheets, keeping his promise and coming back to carry you back to bed. He places you on the mattress and gets you into a fresh pair of panties, not being able to help himself in pressing sweet kisses onto your thighs as he swells in love from taking care of you.

He then adjusts you to be tucked under the covers and walks away, making you whine at him not immediately joining you.

“Sunwoo… come to bed, baby.” you pout tiredly.

He can’t help but melt at your cuteness and begging. Wanting nothing more than to be snuggled up by your side right now.

“I gotta clean myself up first. Give me a minute, sweetheart.”

You’re not sure what he means, not knowing that he came in his underwear. You were too far gone to notice he had an untouched release.

He grabbed a fresh pair of boxer briefs and headed to the bathroom. He quickly removed his sweats and ruined underwear, dealt with the mess, and pulled on the clean underwear.

He took care of himself and walked back into the bedroom, finally joining you and going to do what you wanted to do in the first place.

Once his body hits the bed and settles, he pulls you towards his bare chest and you cling onto him.

You sigh contently as you close your eyes, happily cuddling into him.

With his bare legs entangled with your own, you are made aware that he’s removed his sweats and had to change.

Curious, you decide to ask him why.

He bites his lip before answering, feeling just an ounce of shyness, but honestly who cares? You make him weak all the time. He’s in fucking love with you.

“You made me cum.” he chuckles.

“Really?” you’re shocked and amused.

“Yeah. You squirted, baby. That was so fucking hot. You’ve never done that before, have you?”

“Wait what!?” N-no, I don’t think so. It was so intense. Never felt anything like that before.” you babbled, face reddening.

You’ve never poured out a release like that. Like, squirting? That’s what that was. You’ve obviously heard about it but didn’t think you were capable in doing so.

“Hey— I loved it. Don’t think too much about it. That was probably the hottest thing I have ever seen.” he tells you, making your face heat up even more.

“My little squirter.” he grins from ear to ear, earning him a kick from you to his own leg from underneath the covers at his teasing.

“Hey!” he responds to your kick, hissing but laughing slightly from your action. “That’s a compliment.”

“Let’s just talk more tomorrow, baby.” you roll your eyes playfully, and then shut them. You guys can talk more about this tomorrow. He’s already ripped you away from sleep by wanting to eat you— though, you cannot complain. That was singlehandedly the best oral sex you’ve ever had. But now, you just want to actually go to sleep with your pretty boy.

Sunwoo listens, smiling like an idiot at your figure. He ends the teasing (for now) and lays a kiss over your hair, rubbing your back as you rested against his chest, starting to drift off to sleep.

“I love you so much.” he whispers into the air, thinking you’re asleep already, but he says it anyways.

A quiet giggle surprises him though, making his heartbeat flutter at your beautiful sound.

“I love you, too.”

✰ ∴ :: ∴ ✰ ✰ ∴ :: ∴ ✰ ✰ ∴ :: ∴ ✰ ✰ ∴ :: ∴ ✰ ✰ ∴ :: ∴ ✰

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

That’s Not My Neighbor (1) | Yandere Bnha

“I’m sure you didn’t have a nose piercing the last time I spoke with you, Mister Kirishima. Besides you're not on today's list.”

“Wait it’s not what you think please–”

“Sorry.” 

As apathetic as your reasoning you clicked the button and began to dial the D.D.D. It didn’t matter that there was frantic and harsh banging against the closed metal doors. All that did matter was that the shouts and struggles of D.D.D agents were quieting down. The metallic door came up to show the mysterious build of the building’s agent. 

“The cleaning protocol is completed. You may continue your job.”

“Thank you.”

You look down to reorganize and once over the documents you had; stopping when you find the agent still standing in front of your window, gas mask, and all. 

“Do you need something?”

Instead of apologizing or defending themselves they simply stood there. Rolling your eyes you put the documents down, sending a light glare. They were in the way of possible residents. Which means wasting time on your shift. 

It was three minutes before a voice crackled again. 

“You—took up more shifts.”

Resisting the urge to sneer you took to restacking your papers while you answered. 

“I did. Is there a problem?”

“I thought the other guy would be here at this time.”

Refusing to hide your anger this time you slammed your papers down as you leaned back in the chair.

“On the books he is but he had an emergency so I’m filling in, my shift is next anyway.”

“...Are you getting paid for this?”

So that was why…You sighed, no longer scrunching your eyebrows. Flashing a small smile you straightened your posture.

“He owes me a favor and lunch; so I’ll be okay.”

They stood a little while longer before bowing their head and making their way out of the building. You wondered if this meant one of you was going to get fired. Pushing that aside you continued to look ahead waiting for the next possible resident to walk through.

Your gaze was so fixed on the window you failed to hear the squeaking of the door of your office and the steps behind your back. Only squealing when your chair suddenly twirled around to reveal an intruder.

“HIya (Y/n)!”

“Eeep!”

“Don’t get so nervous just wanted to stop by!”

It was Denki Kaminari,  resident in F2-03 shared with Hitoshi Shinso, piercings on his ears, yellow hair with a black stripe, and an occasionally derpy look on his face. His current employment is as a private electrician, which means he’s often called out for emergencies and may not always be on the list. 

Which he isn’t because he’s got the day off. 

“Sir Kaminari please don’t surprise me like that. I am working.”

“Sir?! Ouch, (Y/n) you wound me!”

He fakes a shot to the heart wobbling around before dramatically falling onto the floor.

“It’s not healthy to take a job as dangerous as harshly as you do. You know all the residents have countermeasures.” 

It’s Shinso Hitoshi, a private detective, and D.D.D reporter, with crazy purple hair and eyes with bags under them, and a hanging earring on his left ear. He also isn’t on the list today. Figures, his work is sporadic and Shinso is an insomniac homebody. 

“Yes, but my job is meant so that you won’t have to use them. I must stay vigilant against Doppelgangers.”

He sighs and scratches at his unruly head. He kicks his partner who is still playing dead on the floor. Kaminari stands up swiftly to once again invade your space as you fail to scoot your chair away. 

“So have you eaten today?”

You pushed him away, turning to your window once again, scanning the perimeter before speaking over your shoulder. 

“I keep myself hydrated when I’m working.”

Shinso sucked his teeth, coming to your right side as he glances at the files you’ve neatly organized. Kaminari follows his lead going on the opposite side to poke at your phone and the list. You swatted his hands away.

“That doesn’t sound like an answer.”

You sighed, “Relax. My coworker promised to give me lunch as compensation for taking his shift.”

What should have soothed their worries instead made them more upset. Both of them glaring at you. 

“If he’s going to give you lunch but you're taking his shift today, that means you’re not eating lunch today.”

“Yeah..what he said!”

You sighed again standing from the chair to turn the both of them away. Putting your foot down–you cross your arms and look at them with your customer-service smile,” As an extension of D.D.D I’m tasked with not only guarding the door from doppelgangers but protecting my health. 

Kaminari was making that infamous dumb face and Shinso was just about mirroring him.” 

Nonetheless, you continued,” It’s important to the D.D.D that their door people are in their best working conditions and I am paid handsomely to do that. “

Shinso was the first to try to speak narrowing his eyes as though he was questioning the validity of the statement. 

“Wait, hold on–”

But you continued, “If you have any complaints, please call the non-emergency number if you’d like to make a complaint.”

As if timed perfectly a knocking at the glass had you hurriedly hopping and turning in your chair to look through the window. Looking more exhausted than Hitoshi was what looked like the teacher Aizawa Shouta, who was glaring at the couple past your head. 

“I’m about to file a complaint if you don’t check my ID and Entry request.”

“Sorry sir. Right away sir.”

Nothing was out of line, everything matched and thus you let him in. A passing glance at the reflection behind you showed both of them sporting an annoyed grimace. Sending a side–eye to the grumpy teacher their gazes were still fixed on you. 

“(Y/n) if you’re the only one working you need to take an appropriate break.”

“I already said–”

“No (Y/n) whether the D.D.D okays it or not this isn’t healthy.”

Hitoshi’s interruption was a lot harsher than his usual speech, the kind you imagined he used when speaking to captured doppelgangers. It made your skin crawl and the hairs on your arms stand up. 

Feeling the heat of someone’s breath on your neck, you hadn’t noticed Kaminari closing the gap between you two. You wanted to turn but you could feel his arms cross over the arms of the chair trapping you in your seat and leaving you far too close to look him in the eye. 

“I think as concerned neighbors we ought to intervene. What do you say Hito?”

“Guys I haven’t been working that long really–”

“I think that’s a great idea.”

Taking advantage of the wheels on your chair Kaminari pulled you away from the desk, holding you in your chair to the doorway leading to the apartments. Hitoshi made quick work of your station closing everything locking the doors and closing the office window slot. 

“But there’s only one more for my shift please—at least let them in!”

At your behest, Hitoshi rolled his eyes looking at the list of expected tenants before scowling at the one uncrossed name on the list. 

“I honestly think having a doppelganger is better than him.”

You wanted to protest but Kaminari quite easily tossed you over his shoulder as he skipped down the hall. Watch from your bobbing perspective as Hitoshi easily locks up your office with your backpack in hand. How did he know where the key is?

Trying to speak up, you were shaken by Kaminari trying to get your attention with his smile as though he wasn’t abducting you. 

“So what should we have for lunch (Y/n)? Beans and Rice? Meatballs? Katsudon?”

“Come on (Y/n). He’s not going to stop until you say what you’re going to eat.”

[mostlycompetentwriter]

Thunderous

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Bang Chan

Word Count: 11K

Genre: Werewolf AU! Royalty AU!

Warnings: There are some elements of non-con in this fanfic. Please don’t read if you don’t like those elements. Mentions of knotting and rough sex. There’s also a lot of explicit smut and language throughout.

Summary: The Wolf King’s name seared your heart. You had been chosen as the youngest and most expendable daughter to be his mate. But you were terrified of the legends surrounding his bloody campaigns. How were you going to survive?

Tag List: @armystay89 @captainchrisstan @starseekersworld @melsunshine @kibs-and-bits

The Wolf King’s name whispered through the trees and hummed between the villages like the ancient stories of the gods.

Some of the villagers claimed that he could transform—bones cracking and teeth elongating until there was no man left. They said his claws could cut through trees and that his howl silenced the instincts of the mountain lions who cowered in their dens. In place of human skin, fur sprouted thick and rough, darkening until it matched the color of the shadows.

The myth and lore had been passed down for years, and you found yourself on the receiving end of all those stories. As the Wolf King’s future mate, you had also become something of an enigma around the kingdom. People looked at you with a glint of respect, bowing their heads and moving out of your way whenever you made your rounds. 

The attention that you hated. Especially when the marriage had been arranged without your willing compliance. Young girl fantasies of handsome princes and distant lands vanquished in an instant. But even if you couldn’t indulge in happiness anymore, there had been a time when you allowed yourself to dream about your wedding. 

Bubbling colors of red and green—like your kingdom’s annual yuletide celebrations—and a long, flowing white gown extending across the floor like an elegant brush of paint. Pure as you had always been. There was beautiful music in your dream, and a gorgeous prince to take you into his arms and glide you across the floor like the clouds moving in the sky.

Fantasies, indeed.

Instead, of merriment and goodwill, you found yourself trembling from head to toe, holding tight to the sleeve of your handmaiden’s gown as she escorted you through the recital hall, down the aisle to where you recognized the Wolf King waiting.

You had only met him twice before. Once, when you had just turned twelve, on the day your families agreed to meet over the prospect of securing peace between your rival kingdoms.

When you were both little children, the Wolf King had no reputation. He was just a boy, and you greeted him with a smile—ignorant of the true purpose of your first meeting. While your parents talked about the future, you showed the Wolf King your favorite flowers, handing him individual stems while your mother bargained your life away:

“A union is our commitment to peace,” your mother had once proclaimed, reaching out to softly pat your curls. “We think they’ll do well together.”

“Yes.” But Chan’s mother didn’t seem convinced. She was an elegant and beautiful woman with long black hair and bright red eyes to match his defining features. “Chan will decide who he wants to marry,” his mother said.

“Y/N will make a good wife when she comes of age,” your mother insisted. “We’ll hire the best teachers to ensure that she is prepared for her duties.”

“That matters little to us,” Chan’s father spoke, and he regarded you like one might grimace at an annoying ant to step on.

You shied away from his intimidating stare, looking instead at Chan as he designed a flower crown for you, placing it on top of your head with a proud smile.

It was the last time he would ever show such kindness.

Over the years proceding your first meeting, Chan became a man, and his reputation for ruthlessness and fury ignited a storm of gossip. 

“The Wolf King stands taller than the gods!”

“The Wolf King slaughtered a village because they refused to bow down to him!”

“He’s a monster! Have mercy on us all!”

You became terrified at any mention of the Wolf King, wondering if your parents were still serious about a union. You found out the hard way when your mother invited the Wolf King and his generals to your kingdom. But you didn’t stick around for very long.

The next time you met, you were sixteen, and you ran away to the gardens in a rare show of rebellion against your parents who had expected you to dress pretty and show off for Chan.

But that wasn’t in your nature, and your instincts screamed at you to avoid the Wolf King. And you thought that you were alone in the forest. Surrounded by the quiet of the thick foliage. But then you heard the bushes move, and you noticed a large black head peering at you with piercing red eyes.

You relaxed when you realized that it was just a common wolf—probably one from the mountain packs, and you weren’t frightened. Animals had always held a special place in your heart, and you approached the wolf with palms upturned to show your peaceful intentions. The wolf never moved, and you stroked your fingers through the coarse fur on his head. 

You returned home that evening thinking your father would scold you for running off like that. But you were instead warmly greeted by your parents who were both ecstatic. “He agreed to marry you, Y/N!” your mother exclaimed. “Isn’t that wonderful?”

It wasn’t.

Not at all.

And you had never experienced real fear in your entire life. But walking down the aisle in the chapel to where the fearless Wolf King waited for you, there was a bone-chilling tremble aching down your spine.

“So beautiful,” you heard faint whispers join together, urging you closer and closer to the Wolf King who gazed at you with the most intense stare you had ever received.

When you were within earshot, the Wolf King snatched your hand from the poor handmaiden who had been helping you walk down the aisle.

The girl quickly jumped to the side, bowing her head as the Wolf King forced you to stand in front of him, reaching down for your other hand. You reluctantly gave it to him, still looking at everything except for the Wolf King’s eyes, even if the little growl he gave showed that he disapproved.

You could hear your mother’s chastising voice in your head, scolding you for not pleasing the King. But you didn’t care anymore. Wasn’t it enough that you were standing there, giving your life away to a monster?

In the distant background, you could hear the priest delivering his lines, and when it was your turn, you gave your vow of allegiance, even if the words fell hot like acid from your unwilling tongue.

Thankfully, the ceremony did not require you to kiss him, dodging his wayward lips when they fell too close to yours. 

There was a rush when the proceedings concluded, the firm ushering of hands leading you out of the chapel. You stumbled in your heels, bringing yourself inadvertently closer to the Wolf King who held tighter to your waist. You did not enjoy the closeness, swallowing down your nerves as you tried not to think about what came next.

The crowd eventually parted, giving you enough space to walk down the steps in the open air, briefly acknowledging the cheering crowd spread through the streets. There was a distinct awe in the noise from the people around you, clambering over one another to get a good like at yourself and the predator who would soon claim you for his own. Wanting to acquaint themselves with your kingdom’s bargaining chip—a small sacrifice to ensure an alliance between your people and the ones who fought under Chan’s domain.

On paper, it seemed like a worthy solution to helping your kingdom protect its borders and fight off invaders. The problem was that you felt the weight of pleasing a man you had no interest in—someone who frightened you to your core. A sick knot tightened in your guts and your stomach clenched tighter as Chan led you to Castle Miroh—the notorious landmark of his territory symbolizing the power of the ruling family.

As the main doors parted, you winced at the sensation of the cold and harsh air inside, and a shiver passed down your spine as you forced yourself to keep up with Chan’s incessant pace, footsteps clacking against marble. It was dark in the corridors, and the only lighting came from the flames ensconced along the walls, casting everything in shadows. Ahead in the distance, you could see the outline of a grand staircase, and your eyes worked tirelessly to mark each step on your darkened path.

It turned out that Chan kept his quarters on the highest floor, latching your fingers together the entire time, even as you forced down the bile permanently hitched at the back of your throat at the thought of all the blood that had stained those hands. 

At the top of the staircase, you were pulled to the left, marching down an impressive corridor with a soft, velvet carpet beneath your soles. Eventually, you found yourself in front of a large, wooden door, and Chan ushered you through the frame, a hand to your lower back as your eyes paused on the King-sized bed waiting beneath an unholy painting of a bloody battle scene.

You will present yourself to the Wolf King, you recalled the words of your tutor. He will expect obedience from his mate.

You blinked away tears, knowing what you were expected to do next, and deciding to push through your nerves before you lost the contents of your stomach on the floor. Every fiber of your being screamed at you to run, but you ignored your instincts, loosening the straps of your dress to allow it to pool into a mess on the floor at your feet, and kicking it aside as you eliminated the remaining distance to the bed. 

You didn’t want to show him that you were weak. That he had any sort of influence that might condemn you a coward. You could not be seen as pathetic in the eyes of a monster, crawling on hands and knees to the center of the bed, head ducked down between your trembling arms and waiting.

Your breath caught when the bed dipped beneath his weight, and you gritted your teeth, feeling his hands take your hips with a powerful grip, nails digging into the soft skin.

The Wolf King will fuck you, your tutor had said, Then he will bite you to complete the mating ritual.

You had seen the Wolf King’s teeth. Sharp like razors and pointed at the ends. You would be a bloody mess at the end of this, but no one could ever accuse you of shirking your responsibilities. You had done everything expected of you, holding on to this thought of solace as you waited for him to take his fill.

“Don’t,” he abruptly whispered, startling you as he laid down on the mattress at your side, closing his eyes and letting out a grumble, completely unbothered with his own nakedness. 

It must’ve happened while you were turned away, but it was still jarring to see so much pale skin on display, marred with jagged scars and scarlet bruises. Eyes trailing over the swell of his chest, over the ridges of his abs, and down to this impressive cock. 

You swallowed hard. “Aren’t you going to fuck me?”

“No,” Chan said, chest deflating. “You do not want that.”

His response surprised you, and you wanted nothing more than to hurriedly tuck the sheet around your body to hide you from him. “I thought you were meant to-”

“We are equals,” Chan interrupted with a much firmer tone. “And you are afraid.”

Equals? The word didn’t seem right coming from him, but you weren’t about to question what was seemingly amounting to an act of mercy. Quick as a flash, you had the sheet bundled against your chest, eyes wide as you looked him over. “The mating-”

“We can do the bite,” Chan continued as if he didn’t care that he wasn’t fulfilling the only purpose you had been given. “But in the morning. The celebrations earlier exhausted me. Such frivolous trivialities.”

“Won’t they notice-”

“Who are they?” Chan barked with a hint of a growl that had you flinching. “There is no one who orders the King around.”

His dark pupils met yours in the dark, searching for something. You swallowed hard, unsure what he was looking for, but focusing on the calming sensation of relief flooding your system at his unexpected mercy. “Thank you.”

He gave a curt nod, dipping his head to the space next to him. “Sleep.”

You obeyed, wondering if you could sleep next to him, even if he had shown you some degree of kindness. It still didn’t erase his bloody reputation, and it worried you to no end that you would be sleeping next to a killer. Born to fight his way to power and rule over his kind. 

You took a deep breath, holding tight to the sheet, and closing your eyes. Perhaps it was the roller coaster of emotions weighing down on you from the day’s events, but you did manage to find sleep, even if it was troubled. Nightmares of wolves following you through the woods, red irises piercing you from the shelter of the trees, and claws slicing through flesh. 

You gasped when your eyes sprung open against an onslaught of bright, morning light, heart palpitating in your chest when you met those same eyes looking down at you from above. Chan was a step ahead of you as if he could predict your movements, grabbing your hands in one of his own to hold them above your head. One of his powerful thighs slung across your lower body, holding you in place with a strength that ignited a fire of burning adrenaline. 

“Hold still,” he said, giving you no other warning before teeth sank into the side of your neck, and your body panicked, fighting against him. Like he might take a chunk out of your neck and leave you on the bed to bleed out. Crimson against the cream-colored sheets. 

Immediately, a pulsating shock erupted from the site of the wound, forcing a scream from between your lips at the overwhelming pain. “I know,” he said, and it was barely discernible over the sounds of your cries, unashamed to lose all inhibitions at the sensation of a pain you had never experienced before.

The Wolf King moved over top of you, and you flinched when you felt his tongue start to lap at the painful bite mark on your shoulder. “The pain will stop soon,” he said. “I’m sorry you have to suffer.”

You held back a whine, digging your nails into the soft flesh of your palms. You supposed he had helped the sting, but it still felt like a piece of glass was being sliced across your skin. Even if the guilt and remorse in his gaze were almost enough to distract you.

“Relax,” he soothed, releasing your hands which instinctively went to wipe at your eyes, drying the salty wetness that had accumulated. 

“I- I can’t...”

“You can because you are mine now,” he declared in a tone that had a different flame sparking in your chest. 

You nodded against the pain, focusing on taking deep breaths, and letting darkness take you under once more.

When you woke again, the King was ready for you. He explained that you were needed in the Throne Room to meet some important people. It turned out that the King had three brothers. They were all younger than him. Or so you had been told.

Their names were Felix, Seungmin, and Jeongin. Feared and revered for their triumphs in battle.

Your Wolf King seemed proud to show them off, standing before you in an organized line: from oldest to youngest.

Felix reminded you of your own cousins, with his lithe figure, so much different from the King’s own bulk, and a head of flaming orange-red hair. 

Next to him, in the middle, stood Seungmin. Dressed in dark clothes that only made his already dark hair even more onyx-black. Bright green eyes appraising you slowly.

Finally, there was Jeongin. The tallest of the three. And sporting the same dark-colored hair as his middle brother. He seemed to be the most innocent, eyes wide with wonder.

“They are here to support you,” Chan went on after introductions had passed. “Call on them if you need any help.”

Unlikely, but you forced a nod nonetheless.

“You are dismissed,” Chan informed them after you gave your acquiescence, and you watched them retreat in the same formation down the hall.

In their stead approached a shorter man, dressed in full battle attire. Well-muscled to stretch the fabric of his shirt and pants, with serious dark eyes. “My King,” the man said, bowing once. “You are needed on the training fields.”

You flinched when the man’s eyes found your neck, likely noting the swollen mess that Chan had left behind. “I’ll be there shortly, Changbin,” Chan said, and he waited until the man was gone before looking at you. “The Castle is yours, my Queen. Feel free to look around and acquaint yourself with your new home.”

“I will,” you whispered, forcing yourself to stay still when he leaned in to press a chaste kiss to your forehead. 

“Tonight, we can eat together,” came his parting words, and you grimaced at the idea of sharing a meal with him. 

But the concept of sharing a meal with him was nowhere near as horrible as the idea that this place could ever be considered your home. What a nasty thought! This place was nothing more than a prison forced upon you because your parents were desperate for Chan’s allegiance.

“Why did he agree?” you huffed to yourself, spinning on your heel to start the trek back to your room—as much as you could remember. “Leaving me here as if I know where anything is!”

For months leading up to your shared nuptials, you had pondered the reason why the powerful Wolf King had even agreed to marry you in the first place. Neither of your meetings had been particularly impactful, and your Kingdom had nothing to benefit his own; in fact, your alliance was more of a detriment to Chan and his people—a burden that he willingly took on.

You turned the corner to the last corridor, grateful that you had managed to retrace your steps, faltering when you noticed something on the floor outside of your door. You kneeled to retrieve it, glancing at the writing and noting with a happy hum that it was addressed from the Northern Highlands!

“Grace!” you exclaimed, clutching the envelope to your chest as you quickly rushed inside your room, glancing back to ensure the door was locked before hopping onto the bed to rip the contents open.

Dear Y/N,

Congratulations on your marriage to Bang Chan - it will be a strong alliance for our parents and their Kingdom. 

I apologize for my absence - Hyunjin was unable to make the accommodations.

As you know, snowfall comes to the Highlands in the upcoming months. It will soon be impossible for me to journey to you, or for you to make the journey here. I’d love to see you and your new husband before it is difficult to do so.

Please write to me when you can to arrange a visit.

Lovingly,

Grace

You read over the letter twice before releasing a deep sigh. Would your Wolf King even indulge in such a trip? Perhaps it wasn’t even necessary for him to go. You could make the trip on your own.

You held fast to that thought, of getting away from your prison even if only for a few days, as you lounged around in your room for the remainder of the day. There was little to entertain yourself with, re-reading Grace’s letter over and over again, and sitting outside on the little veranda attached to your room to watch the clouds moving in the sky.

It would be another mercy to escape Chan’s presence if you were to head North alone, but you were afraid that you were pushing your luck, wincing when you heard the door to your chambers opening again, returning inside from your observation of the grounds to greet Chan as you were expected to do.

“My queen,” he rumbled, reaching out to hold your shoulders between both hands, a grip that was impossible to mistake. “Were you able to see more of the Castle?”

“Yes,” you lied through clenched teeth, only breathing a little easier when he released you, eyes dropping to the letter in your hands.

“What is that?”

“It is from my sister,” you explained. 

“I see.”

“She wasn’t able to attend the wedding,” you went on, saving yourself a bit of time as you scrambled for the best way to drop the news to him. Maybe it would just be best to try a blunt approach, giving him your demands since he insisted on calling you an equal. “I wish to see my sister,” you said, refusing to meet his gaze. “Before it is too dangerous to make the trip to the Northern Highlands.”

Chan grunted at your request, and you weren’t well-versed in his language to know what that meant. “She invited you?”

“I can go alone,” you said. “If it is too much for you.”

“I would love to come with you,” he said, disregarding the determination in your tone. “It will give us more time to spend together on our own.”

“Oh.” Your gaze remained trained on the floor, hopes dashed that you could leave him behind. 

“It will be nice to visit there,” he said. “I will make the arrangements. You may write her back to expect us very soon.”

“As you wish,” you sighed, trying to keep the disappointment from your tone, flinching when he grabbed one of your wrists. He didn’t seem perturbed by your reaction, and you watched as he pulled a delicate piece of jewelry from his pocket.

“Well?” he smiled, something that made you shiver. “What do you think?”

“What is it?” you asked in return, resisting the urge to pull back the wrist clasped between his scarred fingers. Even if you did manage to finally meet his gaze.

“It is a gift for you,” Chan said with a smile you were not expecting—blinding and warm. “I made it myself.”

“You made this?”

“As our traditions dictate,” he agreed, keeping a firm hold on your wrist to clasp the little bracelet around your delicate flesh. “It is meant to show our bond to the world.”

You studied it curiously, noting the simple design and the small wolf-shaped carvings engraved in the metal. It was cold against your skin, even as the heat from his body balanced it out.

“Shall we eat?”

He dropped your wrist, and you were able to gather your bearings. “Of course.” You managed a nod, watching as he opened the door wide, allowing a small servant girl to enter the room.

The girl offered you both a respectful bow before she started to set the table, laying out silverware and fine china plates. Behind her, another girl rolled in a cart, wheels squealing on the floor, with prepared food steaming from beneath metal lids. 

“Here, sit with me,” Chan said, patting the space on the bed next to him. “Until they are ready.”

You obeyed, sitting down next to him. Your gaze remained trained on the servant girls, moving about in a well-rehearsed manner as if they had done this too many times to count. 

He reached for your hand, and you did your best not to flinch. “Look,” he whispered, urging you to follow his gaze. “This line on your hand, do you see the way it moves?”

You shivered as he traced the mark he referred to, following it up and down the length of your palm. “Yes,” you whispered, struck by the unexpected intimacy of the gesture.

Goosebumps followed the trail he left on your wrist, and you held your breath when he brought it to his lips. “The same as mine,” he said, almost reverently. Your eyes widened, breath hitching as he aligned your hands together. “A perfect match.”

You could hardly believe it, eyes searching back and forth, but seeing the same line digging into both of your skin. Like it belonged there. 

“There are reasons for everything,” he said, and you felt a small flicker of shame when you read his knowing gaze as if he could sense those dark thoughts that you sheltered about him—wondering why you out of everyone in the world had been chosen to stand at his side. “I wouldn’t question so much,” he continued. “The things that fall into place so perfectly.”

He offered you a wink, surprisingly playful for a man of his reputation. “Let’s eat.”

You nodded, the most you could, and followed him to the table. He was polite as always, allowing you to pick first, waiting until your first bite before claiming his own. You were content, at that moment, to answer the questions he threw your way, increasingly aware of the way the place he had touched warming and the mark on your neck drummed in a gentle pulse.

The rest of the evening passed uneventfully, and there was less trepidation in your soul when you lay with Chan to sleep. 

You journeyed to the Highlands the next morning, riding behind Chan on horseback, leaving the Wolves’ imposing Castle behind. There was a lightness about you as distance added more miles to your ride, growing brighter and brighter the further you traveled. Even with light conversation petering between you and Chan, you had never been freer in your entire life, the wind blowing back your hair as you soared across the plains.

Despite his repeated requests for you to take a break, you were determined to make it to your sister’s palace before nightfall. You wanted to see her outside, in the meadows that spread invitingly across the Highlands, and walk together just the two of you as you did as children.

There was excitement spiking hot adrenaline in your veins when the hills opened up in the distance, revealing a gorgeous mountain Castle with imposing towers and the familiar flags of your sister’s powerful family. She belonged to Hyunjin, taking his name and crest, and it made you sad to realize that there was a greater distance between you both. You loosened your grip on Chan’s waist, not realizing your grip on him.

You had grown tired of being around him, constantly blinded by the weight of his shadow. At least out here, with the sun beaming down from above, you could feel great relief from the pressure lightening. Perhaps there should be shame associated with your actions, but as soon as you could identify a familiar shape up ahead, you were already leaping from the horse despite Chan’s protests.

Thankfully, your sister was there to greet you, surrounded by two guards. Immediately, you jumped from your steed, falling into her arms and inhaling the familiar scent of her perfume. “Grace,” you squealed, keeping her held tight to you as if it would be the last time you could ever do so. 

“Y/N,” she sing-songed back, and you smiled at her playful attitude, only growing a little despondent when you detected Chan’s approach from behind.

“Hello,” she greeted Chan with a polite bow. “It is an honor to welcome you to the Northern Highlands.”

“Your palace is beautiful,” Chan complimented, and you shivered when he drew fingers down the length of your spine—a show of affection that you would never get used to experiencing.

“Thank you,” she said, turning around to gaze back at it as if she were seeing it for the first time. “It has centuries of history.”

“I have heard the tales,” Chan remarked. “From when I was a boy.”

You tried not to snort, not wanting to relive any memories of Chan from his boyhood. Grace’s careful eyes, however, seemed to detect something, and she looked at you with a curious gaze. “Well, I can show you to your quarters.”

“No need, I’m sure one of your guards will know the way. I think Y/N has been waiting for some time with you. I’ll leave you both alone,” he said, even without your prompting, and your sister gave you a familiar smile.

“As you wish,” she said with a little curtsy, beckoning a guard forward with stern orders to help the Wolf King settle in while you and Grace took a stroll of the grounds.

You held your breath, not wanting your impatience to show as the arrangements were made. Only once Chan had started in the direction of the Castle, guards following him closely, did you exhale. Reaching for Grace’s hand, and tugging her forward.

“No need to drag me!” Grace chuckled at your actions, and she linked your arms together, steering you toward the familiar meadows.

You both settled into easy conversation as it always seemed to happen, topics flowing from one to another. There was a lot to catch up on, things left unsaid from your sad exchange of letters. Rumors swirling around the highlands, and stories from your own homeland that you consumed greedily, excited for any mention of your little Kingdom.

Even if you didn’t really belong to it anymore.

You wanted to walk forever, to keep going beyond the highlands. Escaping to a distant land with just you and Grace. A place where you could both live in peace and go about your days just chatting and reading together by the fireplace as you did when you were children.

She laughed at your complaints, forcing you to return to the Castle when the sun had started to set. Thankfully, you didn’t go all the way inside just yet, and the two of you sat down at one of the picnic tables in the gardens. As you settled next to Grace, bowing politely to the maids who brought you both a cup of tea, you frowned as you recognized Chan between the hedges, strolling along with Hyunjin, Grace’s King, down the trodden paths between the mazes. 

You did your best to ignore him, focusing instead on the moment you had with your sister. The setting sun was warm as you reclined your head, eyes closed as you accepted the gracious touch—burning just as hot as your sister’s intense stare.

“Do you have something to say?” you huffed. “I can feel you looking at me.”

Her smile was clear in her tone. “You just seem...different.”

“How so?”

“Like you’ve been tamed.”

Your eyes flew open at the comment, glaring at her. “Stuck in an arranged marriage, you mean?”

“Mine was arranged as well, but you can rest assured that I don’t take the same comfort from my particular suitor.”

“I hardly take comfort from the Wolf King,” you argued, but Grace simply shrugged.

“You’ve never seen things as I do.”

“What’s so bad about Hyunjin anyway?” you asked instead, to direct the conversation away from Chan,

Her smile curdled. “He keeps busy with his whores,” she said, shocking you with such an accusation.

“Grace-”

“Don’t.” Your sister sighed. “There’s nothing you can do.”

She attempted to restore her previous smile, looking back over your shoulder with a sigh. “I like your Wolf King,” she eventually said. “He cares about you a lot. I haven’t seen him take his eyes away from you once.”

Grace must be imagining things. “He’s tolerable at best,” you decided, earning yourself a sigh from your sister.

“My how your perspective has changed,” she remarked, finally turning her attention to the lukewarm tea in front of her. “You were kicking and screaming when you first learned of the marriage.”

“It is something that was forced on me!”

“But you’re not the only one, Y/N,” Grace said with a tone filled with sadness.

Suddenly, you felt chastened and guilty for even protesting her. “For us both, it has created nothing but discomfort.”

“I think there is potential in your match,” Grace argued. “You resist because you are stubborn in nature, but I think there could be good things for you if you just tried to make it work. Wouldn’t it be better, sister, to live with him as lovers than as cold strangers?”

“He is too wild for marriage,” you weakly protested. But your argument held no merit, and you hated the logic in her words, turning away to glare into the distance.

Night passed before your eyes, like the dimmest flicker, and you had never been more unhappy to greet the rising sun. 

It seemed that all good things inevitably came to an end, and you were holding back tears when you parted from Grace the next morning, holding the embrace for far too long. Even as you allowed Chan to help you back onto the horse, positioned directly behind him on the saddle, you kept your gaze trained behind you, watching Grace grow smaller and smaller.

Until she was gone.

Your heart was heavy when you returned to Chan’s castle that same afternoon, but your foul mood didn’t last for long. Distracted as you were, surprised by the bustling activities throughout the grounds, everyone scrambling for something you couldn’t identify. “Our moon festival,” Chan explained. “We will be shifting tonight.”

Oh, right. You had forgotten about that part, too distraught reminiscing on your brief moment of freedom with Grace. “I almost forgot.”

“There will be a feast tonight,” he explained. “We will both join as King and Queen.”

You scowled at the idea. “As you wish.”

Chan frowned at the comment. “You must be tired from the journey,” he continued, choosing not to react to your passive comment. “Feel free to rest in our quarters. I will come get you later.”

You agreed with a half-hearted grunt of acknowledgment. Sleep did sound like a much-needed relief from the exhaustion threatening each unsteady step you took up the stairs. It was what you blamed your disorientation on, barely noticing when Chan leaned in to give you a chaste kiss on your cheek.

That same spot burned under the barely-there attention. But you chose to ignore it, instead focusing on how your feet were throbbing when you landed on top of your bed with a huff, allowing tears to escape as you gave yourself a moment to purge the nasty emotions that had built after leaving the Highlands. Unable to do so as you rode behind Chan.

There were too many different emotions piled on throughout the day, mixing with a heady combination of your exhaustion from traveling. Countless thoughts also swirled through your head, and it was inevitable that you would fall under, losing yourself to the easy promise of sleep. An easier task than grappling with your conflicted feelings. 

Darkness greeted you like an old friend, and your dreams were wild. One moment you were back with Grace, strolling through the meadows. The next, you found yourself in an empty forest, shadows chasing each breath evaporating on cold air, ensnared by a pair of red eyes in the thick foliage.

You stumbled on the undergrowth, falling backward ungracefully. You only had the wherewithal to put a hand over your face, trying to block everything out, as those eyes descended on you. Fear caught in your throat, and it was the lasting image that haunted you as you jerked upright in bed, barely withholding a scream when those same eyes met you in the real world.

“Y/N.”

Chan’s voice was deep, guttural in its intensity, and filled with concern. You flinched when fingers came out to gently remove sweaty bangs from your eyes, heart thunderous inside your chest. His hand paused in its motions, and for a fleeting second, you thought you might drown in his stare.

“Sorry,” you whispered. “Bad dreams.”

“I see.”

There was a question in his tone, but you didn’t know how to provide an answer, choosing instead to gently push his hand away. “It’s nothing to worry about.”

He nodded, lower lip caught between his teeth. “If you’re certain...”

You studied him for a moment, wishing that you could confide in him. But there was still a great distance between you, perhaps put there by your own accord, but heavy in its existence. “I shall get ready.”

Chan allowed you the space, agreeing to meet you in the hallway as you rose to get dressed, finding the dress that had been laid out for you by the maids. You slipped the fabric over your body, shivering as the silkiness slid across your skin like a lover’s caress.

True to his word, Chan was waiting patiently on the other side of the door, and you hesitated before taking the outstretched hand offered to you. Unprepared for when it pulled you in closer, under the scrutiny of his affectionate gaze. “Beautiful,” he declared, nostrils flaring as if taking in the scent of the perfume you sprayed. 

“Thank you,” you offered in return, choosing to keep silent as he led the way, helping you down the stairs in your heels. 

For once, you willingly stayed close to Chan, especially as you approached the Great Hall where the festivities would take place. Chan led you into the dining room, perhaps a bit too hastily, uneasy with the weight of his people’s stares boring down upon your figure. Dressed simply in that white gown—pure, as you had always remained—and looking entirely out of place amongst battle-hardened soldiers. 

You caught Changbin’s stare from across the room as you sat at the head of the table next to the King. There was lust in his gaze. And it deeply unsettled you, to the point that even Chan caught your shiver.

He followed your gaze to Changbin who looked away at once. “Tradition says that the King can share his mate,” Chan whispered. “But I will not share you with him. So he can only look.”

You weren’t sure what to say to that. So you didn’t say anything in return. “I didn’t know.”

There was a brief moment of silence, and then Chan stood, addressing the room. “Let’s feast together, comrades! We run together at the moon’s highest cycle!”

A chorus of cheers and howls greeted his words, and everyone started to fill their plates, easy conversation flowing between the wolves like the smell of the delicious-looking platters laid out before you. Still, your stomach revolted, swimming in circles as you picked at the helping Chan had served you. You wrinkled your nose when his grease-stained fingers brought a piece of chicken to your lips, and you forced yourself to take it from him. 

Chan sighed as you chewed, forcing the morsel down your throat as it stung. “I won’t be with you tonight, of course. We will likely stay out in the moonlight until dawn. But I will return in the morning.”

“Okay.” You shrugged, seemingly indifferent. Some time to yourself seemed nice. And you weren’t keen on being outside when they were no longer human. 

“You don’t have to be miserable here, my Queen,” Chan suddenly said, tone taking on a hardened edge. Perhaps the first time he had ever sounded stern with you. “Wolves mate for life, and they choose their partners seriously”

You contemplated his words, chosen ever so carefully. “I - I will try,” you managed, recalling Grace’s advice from the previous day.

To live as lovers rather than strangers. 

He hummed at your agreement, eyes glued to your form as he appraised you with something akin to curiosity. “Don’t roam so far from the castle tonight. It isn’t dangerous, but it is your first time. Of course, there’s usually nothing to fear in the gardens.”

There was a layered hint in his words, but you chose not to think about it too much, simply nodding your head as you resumed your task of picking at your food. There was nothing wrong with the offering in front of you, but your newfound uneasiness mixed with your emotional charge from earlier—it had not yet completely dispelled itself from your system—left an unpleasant ache in your chest.

As if something was missing…

Later that night, long after the wolves left the castle, you realized you couldn’t sleep even if you tried, listening to the chorus of howls from outside the castle walls. They rang through the night, loud and clear, and harmonized with one another as if perfectly in sync. Perhaps they were since Chan and his wolves shared a tight bond, and you wondered what it must be like to be so perfectly in tune with one another.

It was these thoughts that plagued you, and even as midnight came and went, you grew more restless. You resolved to walk through the castle, to quell your thoughts and ease your mind. Even as your footsteps echoed through the halls, you found yourself becoming more awake instead of the opposite effect.

Fresh air would be nice, you thought until you remembered the wolves outside. But then again, Chan did promise you that the gardens would be safe. You could trust him, right? Or was that the problem? Your lack of trust in someone meant to be your partner. 

You resolved yourself in that moment to try. And if that meant venturing out into the gardens, then no one could accuse you of being silent and passive. This was your attempt at trying, and if it ended badly, then you would have all the more leverage to ignore him.

However, despite your attempts to steel your resolve, you found your heart beating impossibly fast when you greeted the moonlight outside. Each lungful of air that you forced down your lungs felt like sharp knives attacking your flesh. Gaze swimming in front of you, footsteps unsteady as you entered the hedge maze surrounding the gardens.

You inhaled deeply, trying to find comfort in the familiar smell of the foliage. There was a strange air of peace surrounding you, and that was all the solace you needed to keep going, admiring the way the colors of the blooming flowers bled in a different light. It was easy to grow distracted by the sight, as beautiful as it was, and perhaps you could blame your wandering eye for failing to adequately identify the rustling of something large in the undergrowth of the forest. 

You hummed to yourself, leaning down to run your fingers over the soft petals of a rose. Its usual red was subdued somehow, under the moon’s glow, and you smiled at the effect, completely ignorant of a different red seeping through the hedges near your right.

It wasn’t until a gentle whimper sounded that you jerked to a stop, hand fluttering to cover your chest as you whipped around to locate the source of the sound. And what stood before you, as powerful as the looming mountains above the castle, nearly had you falling to your knees.

Except, you realized upon a second cursory glance, that there was something uncannily familiar about the beast in front of you, and it only took you another moment to make the connection. A gasp fell from your lips when you realized that it was the wolf from your childhood—the one you had found that day Chan visited your home for the second time. The one you played with in the gardens. The one you spent time with just talking and believing it was nothing more than a common wolf.

You stumbled then, recognizing the now familiar crimson eyes looking back at you—the same ones that belonged to your husband. The wolf, your Wolf King, butted his giant head against your outstretched hand, giving an affectionate lick to your fingertips.

“I understand,” you whispered, unable to decipher the emotion in your voice, but one thing that you knew for certain—there was a clear absence of fear. Because you had never feared this wolf, always approaching it with happiness, completely ignorant of its true state. 

The wolf gave you a meaningful look, and you were struck by the humanness of the gesture. Understanding dawned on you—Chan had always known. He had always known it was you—the one his wolf had chosen. The girl who had never shown fear to a beast that others considered a monster. 

You had known Chan for your entire life without even realizing it, and your eyes welled with tears, watching him toss back his head and release a spine-curdling howl. One that was joined by a chorus of beautiful melodic cries, merging and joining together, and reaching down to your very bones.

You dropped to your knees then—a mere speck before the Wolf. You cried without fear, and this time, the tension between you and your King vanished like the stars in the night sky when dawn cracked across the horizon.

Three Months Later

On most mornings, Chan was gone before you woke up, and that left you with a disconcerting feeling of disappointment. You supposed there was much to do for the King of the Castle, but lately, it made you ache for something you couldn’t quite discern.

For the past several months, you found yourself opening up to the Wolf King in ways you would’ve never imagined. The truth of who he was, the Wolf from your childhood, along with Grace’s well-intentioned advice, had managed to crack through the stoic guard you had raised from the moment you bound yourself to him.

He taught you about the bond—how, even if you weren’t a Wolf and couldn’t experience the same emotions, he could feel each flicker of happiness or stroke of sadness as it moved through you. 

You had not known of this connection before—because of your stubborn nature—and you would always regret resisting it. But things were better, and you could see the beauty in the bond and how truly spectacular it was to feel and understand another person so intimately. It made you wonder—for longer and longer periods of time—just how deep you could make that bond.

Curiosity weighed heavy on you, and your eyes cracked open at a gentle knocking on the door—an opportunity presenting itself when you recognized a familiar servant girl entering your room. “Good morning, Y/N,” she said, and you nodded in return.

At first, you had kept yourself closed off to the other maids, but this one in particular, Ivy, had been insistent. It was hard to deny her, especially when she became your best teacher, indulging you in learning everything related to the wolves and their way of life.

She was also quite willing and open to help you with anything, even if it involved the more intimate parts of your relationship with the Wolf King. You brought it up again that morning, growing more and more confident, especially since Ivy was completely shameless when it came to that sort of thing.

“I thought about your words from the other night,” you opened the conversation, watching as she put your breakfast down onto the table.

“You’ll have to remind me.” There was a teasing note in her tone, and you glowered at the playful look she shot in your direction.

“We spoke about the King,” you said. “You told me things…what I can do to please him.”

“I remember.” She took a step closer, and you were wary of the look in her eyes. “Does he not fuck you well?” Ivy asked, and her tone was absent of the same filter that would stop your tongue.

Still, you were embarrassed, looking down at your feet, wondering how to disguise the truth. “It doesn’t feel good when it seems like he just uses me to get himself off.”

That much was true as you had heard Chan masturbating next to you on countless nights, and your name often fell free from his lips.

“I see.” Ivy nodded. “He doesn’t know better. He was taught that a good alpha fucks his mate and makes sure that she is pregnant for him.”

You winced at her blunt explanation. “Is that all...wolves need?”

“Not necessarily,” Ivy said with a bright smile. “I can teach you...if you want.”

“Teach me?” you asked, gasping when Ivy placed a hand on your chest, forcing you to fall back on the bed.

She was all smiles when she crawled into your lap, grabbing your hands and securing them to her waist. You gasped when she started rocking her hips into your own, feeling the pleasant ache resonate up and down your spine. “The most important lesson of them all,” Ivy said with a twinkle of mischief in her eye. “The art of seduction.”

“I - Ivy...”

“Tell me, Y/N,” Ivy interrupted your ramblings, leaning down so that the tips of your noses brushed together. “Would you like that? Seducing your wolf? Driving him to the point where he can’t resist taking you?”

You moaned around your response. “Yes! Please show me.”

Her hips rocked harder into yours, and you could see white forming at the edges of your vision. “Leave it to me.”

And you did, surrendering to her touches, and the wicked way she showed you all the ways to drive a King mad. 

The following night, you bravely waited for your Wolf King to return from patrol, wearing nothing but a sheer robe that left little to the imagination. Sitting on the edge of your shared bed, you caught each breath as it rattled between your lungs. Nervousness eating away at your resolve and leaving the poor skin around your cuticles abused by your touch. 

Ivy’s advice rang clear in your mind as if she were there with you, holding your hands between her own as she taught you how to please the King. You blushed at the memory, hands covering the bare skin beneath your robe, caressing the delicate flesh as she had done the night before. Demonstrating to you the best ways to please a man, and to make him beg for you. 

That kind of power held its curious appeal, and you thought about it constantly. Wondering what it would be like to make Chan lose his mind to the sin of your smell and touch. You could hardly wait, bouncing your leg and jostling the flimsy material of your coverings. 

Thankfully, your Wolf King didn’t make you wait for very long, punctual as always in these recent times of peace in joining you during the evenings. The easy smile he always offered you vanished as soon as he closed the door behind him, eyes locked on your figure clad in so very little.

“Be assertive.” You recalled Ivy’s words, and you stood on shaky legs to take a few tentative steps towards him. The implication was not lost in translation. You could barely get out a greeting before Chan was on you in seconds, gently pushing you back against the wall. He pressed his forehead against yours and you closed your eyes. “You look beautiful,” he whispered, initiating the first indulgent kiss that lit a fire that you felt down to the tips of your toes.

“Then have me,” you said against the purse of his mouth, tongue tracing that full bottom lip. His gaze widened perceptibly, holding you at arm's length.

“What do you mean?”

“Take me the way you want,” you replied. “I’m ready. You love me, don’t you?”

The intensity in that gaze you had started to yearn for burned even brighter. “You know that I love you Y/N, and I understand why it would be hard for you to believe. I’m more than willing to take this chance to show you.”

He pulled away despite the tight grip you kept on his powerful bicep. Even so, you kept your eyes open as wide as possible to enjoy the scene playing out in front of you when he kissed you again. You curled your fingers into his thick black hair, remembering Ivy’s advice, and pulled his mouth against yours, crushing your lips to his. Chan’s chest rumbled as he kissed you fiercely in return, grabbing onto your arms as his tongue plundered the hot cavern of your mouth.   

Your lungs screamed in protest, and you pulled away suddenly, shivering at his resounding whimper. You opened your eyes, keeping your hands in his hair to hold it back from his crimson orbs. You found the lust there, making his eyes appear darker.  “It’s so hard for me to do this,” you said softly. “I- I want to please you…”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Chan replied. He pressed his hips into yours and you felt something hard against your stomach. “Y/N,” Chan murmured, leaning into your neck to inhale deeply. “I want you more than anything else.”

You shivered as you felt his other hand come to the sleeve of your gown, slowly sliding it down your shoulder. His fingertips slid across your skin, weakening your resolve. His lips followed his touch, peppering soft kisses along the exposed skin. He tugged on the fabric more and you felt the fabric at your right breast start to fall, slowly exposing the flesh to him. His blazing eyes looked down at what he had uncovered, as his hand moved up to hold your breast in his palm. You moaned when his thumb started to rub against your nipple, growing alarmed at the sudden ache between your legs. Like before, his lips soon replaced his fingers and you cried out when he gently nipped the sensitive skin.  

He suddenly tugged the fabric back up, releasing your wrists so that he could have both hands when he grabbed the sides of your robe and tugged it aside to reveal your bare skin to him. Your hands fell to your sides as your chest heaved up and down to match each of your panting breaths. Clad in the lingerie Ivy had helped you pick out the previous night. 

Chan’s eyes were glued to your bare torso. With a moan of his own, he pressed a soft kiss to your lips before he trailed his mouth down, over the soft skin of your throat, down your chest, and between the valley of your breasts, over your smooth stomach down to the top of your lace panties. Looking up at you with hungry, lust-filled eyes, Chan started to tug the fabric down your legs.

Clenching your fists against the wall, you couldn’t begin to describe what you felt when he pressed a kiss against the front of your panties, holding your thighs in his strong hands. Standing back up to his full height, he pulled his shirt off next, tossing it onto the floor. You breathed out deeply as your eyes greedily took in the sight of his muscled torso. Timidly, you reached out a hand, aware of his eyes watching your movements as you hovered your palm over his firm abdomen. “Touch him with your fingertips,” Ivy’s words whispered against your ear. He groaned, bracing his arms on either side of you, moving his head against the wall next to your ear. You heard Chan’s husky voice whisper: “Baby, please touch me.”

Your eyes fluttered at his request, and you placed both palms on his hard stomach, moving them up and feeling the muscles tense beneath your touch. Your hands danced across his pectorals, rising along with the muscles. You moved your palms over his shoulders and then back down, pausing when you hit the top of his pants. Before you could muster up the courage to move any lower, Chan’s lips were back on yours, kissing you senseless. You wrapped your arms around his neck, working your mouth against his, feeling your lips become swollen from his kisses. As your tongues touched, you felt Chan’s hands return to your thighs, lifting them so that you had no choice but to wrap your legs around his trim waist. Holding you against him, he carried you into over to the bed to deposit you on top. You missed his warmth as soon as he was gone and opened your eyes to meet his black gaze.

This was your chance. You remembered Ivy’s words and scrambled to get in position. Present. The command burned its way through your whole being as if you had no control over it. Instead, you turned on your hands and knees, arching your back and keeping your ass held high in the air.

You had never done this before, and you felt so exposed, but at the same time so good, so right, and you restrained yourself from trying to cover up against the shameless crimson stare watching you.

Suddenly, all went quiet, prompting you to glance over your shoulder. The Wolf King was staring at your ass, his mouth slightly agape. “Good girl,” was all you heard before Chan dove down abruptly to taste your dripping cunt, dragging his tongue all the way up to the source of the wetness leaking from you with a single, hot swipe, before latching on and sucking eagerly at the sensitive skin around your opening. 

You keened at the sensation and shivered at his satisfied grunts and moans as he took his fill of your taste. It made you want to please him. To do whatever it took to make him completely lose his mind.

“Chan!” You moaned out, reaching beneath him to flick at your neglected clit. “More!” 

Your demand did not go unanswered. With a grunt, Chan yanked your ass up higher for a better angle, digging his hands into the plush flesh of your hips. His touch was rough, and strong, undoubtedly leaving marks behind, but you absolutely loved it. And when the wiggling muscle of his tongue finally pushed inside, you cried out in absolute bliss and pleasure. Time itself seemed to slow down as that tongue relentlessly moved inside you, searching for that spot that could make you see stars and, once found, pressing down hard. Again and again, Chan dipped inside with his tongue, and each time you moaned for him. It didn’t take you long until your body tensed and shuddered, squeezing around the intrusion as you rode out your orgasm. 

With a satisfied groan, Chan released your hips, and you collapsed on your stomach, still aching for him.

You attempted to look back at Chan, groaning when you realized he was pushing down his pants and underwear, freeing his stiffening cock before crawling back over you. You were met with a flurry of kisses, on your lips, your cheeks, and your neck, before his tongue trailed lazily over your chest and down to the delicate curls damp from your release. 

You squirmed under him as he held himself up on his arms, dragging his eyes unbearably slow from your face and down to your toes. He moved one finger down over your stomach, and you watched it enter the forest of blonde curls around your center. Panting, and nearing combustion, you found yourself instinctively thrusting your hips up, begging him for more than just touches. Growling, he practically shoved your hips back to the bed, reaching down and jerking his thick cock with rough strokes. He abruptly flipped you over onto your back, craning his neck to look down into your eyes. “Let me make love to you, Y/N.”

His words sent a flurry of heat straight to your core. You had never had sex before, but you wanted it desperately. You told him as much and could see him visibly shaking. “I’ll go slow,” he promised, kissing your lips tenderly, before reaching down to line himself up at your entrance. You closed your eyes and winced as he pushed into you. Pliant and soft from his earlier ministrations, the bulbous head found little resistance as it breached your cunt.

You could feel his face bury itself into your shoulder, his knuckles turning white as they gripped the bedding, as if it was taking everything he had to go this slow. Once he was buried inside of you completely, you groaned, adjusting to the sudden intrusion. You could feel him still above you, and his teeth teased the skin at your shoulder. “Son of a bitch,” he growled. “It’s taking every ounce of control I have not to flip you over and fuck you senseless.”

His words, as crude as they were, only served to heighten your arousal. “Move,” you said, grabbing his black hair and pulling his face to yours. You kissed him quickly. “I’m fine.”

He needed no further encouragement, as he slowly pulled out before pushing back in. You could see the sweat breaking out across his forehead from the exertion, causing strands of his hair to stick to his forehead. His right hand moved behind you to grip the headboard as his hips slowly rocked against your own. As good as it felt, you could see he was about to lose it. “Faster,” you told him, and he complied, speeding up his thrusts and allowing some of the tension to escape his body. It was a little painful, especially when he let out a low growl and really started grinding his hips.

You could feel it building inside, the pleasure of his rough movements far outweighing the discomfort. You let out another moan as he moved in and out, feeling the smooth friction all the way to the tips of your toes. The Wolf King chose this moment to draw his hips back, dragging his length out to the tip, before slamming it back inside with a powerful thrust, rocking your body to the point that you felt your vision turn white for a moment. Without giving you time to recover, Chan repeated the motion over and over again, speeding up and adjusting the angle to relentlessly hit deep inside, hips bumping your clit with every smooth grind.

He grunted from his efforts, one hand on the headboard while the other came to grab your breast, his lips sucking at your neck. For your part, you arched your back against him, allowing your hips to come up a little to meet his movements as he hit even deeper inside of you, just barely kissing your cervix. Your fingernails scraped down the smooth skin of his back at this new angle. He moaned when your nails dug into his flesh, bringing his lips up to yours and you kissed him feverishly, tasting him like your life depended on it. One of your hands curled into his smooth black hair while the other gripped his bicep tightly, sighing happily as you felt the muscles move.  

You wrapped your legs around his waist, trying to not feel overwhelmed by all of the things he was making you feel. Buried deep inside of you, you could feel him hit all the right spots, sending waves of pleasure to your tight center. Meanwhile, his lips were working magic against yours, leaving you breathless.  

You could feel an intimate warmth building inside of you the longer he snapped his hips against yours. Groaning, you let out a cry as you felt something inside of you break open, releasing wave after wave of heat through your core, leaving your body drowning in pleasure.  

There was a haze of lightheadedness clogging your senses, and you almost didn’t even realize the swell pushing against your ass, until it breached your core. “Chan!” you hissed at the combination of pain and overwhelming pressure, retreating and then swelling again as he ground that hot mass against you.

“My knot,” he groaned, and you could feel the heat from his chest against your breasts as he pressed even closer. 

You vaguely recalled Ivy warning you about this, telling you that it would be hard to prepare for the massive instrution. You felt a spike of fear as it stretched you even further, and you worried that your virgin body would suffer. All you could do was grit your teeth and bury your head into the blankets beneath you, feeling the swell of his knot pressed against the cleft of your ass. You fisted the sheets between your hands. He would split you in half, and then you would be nothing.

“Y/N!” he growled, slowing his hips to a timid roll as his knot locked between you both, and your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you felt his release flood your insides, filling you to the point that your lower stomach had started to swell from his cum. 

He groaned as you both came down from your highs, and you gently petted your finger through his unruly curls. He experimentally rolled his hips to test how firmly the knot was locking him inside and it wouldn’t budge. Your cunt squeezed the knot, eliciting another grunt from Chan, another twitch, and another spurt of hot cum inside of you.

The pop didn’t swell until Chan was fully seated, his thick cock barely able to seat itself fully between your pulsating walls. It was a painful stretch, of course, but you were hardly focused on it.

Chan continued to hump against you, long after his release and teetering on the cusp of oversensitivity, but those seductive hips had lost their rhythm. It was only moments later, as Chan pulled away from your lips and buried his face into your chest, that he growled when something warm filled your center. You let your hand wander down his spine, stroking along the individuals knots. You could feel him breathing hard above you, and you tried to soothe him back to normal.

You were locked together for a long time, and you were almost asleep when Chan was finally able to pull out, collapsing onto the mattress next to you, looking up at the ceiling. You watched as his chest rose and fell quickly until you could barely see it move at all, signifying his return from his high. Your own breaths came out much shorter, and you were aware of the sweat that coated your skin. 

You watched as Chan ran his hand through his dark hair, moving it out of his face. Looking over at you, he turned on his side and used one hand to bring you closer to him, wrapping an arm around your waist. You hummed in delight as your chests pressed together, moving in sync with each other. Chan’s eyes scanned over your face as he leaned in and kissed your forehead. “I love you Y/N,” he said. voice rumbling. “I’ll do whatever it takes to prove it to you.”

You were barely coherent, collapsed against the sheets with a line of drool pooling out from your mouth. Closing your eyes, you let your head fall against his chest, savoring his warmth.  “I trust you,” you said softly, and you could feel him sigh in relief. Simply holding you against him, surrounded by his warmth, you suddenly felt very much like you belonged.

“You and I have always been destined,” Chan whispered, and for the first time since you had taken your place as his Wolf Queen, you weren’t afraid.

Instead, you were irrevocably alive.

[dearhargrove]

People leave

Eddie Diaz x reader

summary A few weeks after first meeting Eddie and Christopher things with you and Eddie start getting serious. However when Christopher realizes, he doesn't react the way you'd expected.

word count 1200

tags hurt/comfort, Chris being adorable, angsty but turns to fluff

a/n yall know how in episode 8 season 4 Eddie tells Chris he's seeing someone and Chris gets rlly mad and runs away to Buck (adorable btw)? When he explained that he's scared that people he cares about leave I realized this could be a good continuation to this! It's gonna have a happy ending and fluff don't worry 🫶🏻

part one

masterlist

Christopher is preparing salad with Eddie at his side while you supervise Liam as he slowly chops a cucumber. His tongue is peeking out in concentration as he holds the knife the way you'd shown him and slowly slices the cucumber.

When he's done you ruffle his hair and hold your hand up for a high-five which he eagerly gives. “You did great! When dinner is done well call you - go and play a little more with Chris?” He nods and hops off the chair (his feet couldn't reach the floor when he sat so he had to hop down a little- it makes you coo every time he does) before grabbing Chris by his arm and dragging him to the living room.

Eddie and you watch as they settle on the couch and pick their game of uno back up.

“They're adorable,” you smile and lean back against the counter, your arms crossed over your chest. Eddie hums and sneaks his right arm around your waist, looking down at you with a content grin.

You tilt your head at his look and turn around to finish up the salad, “What are you looking at, señor?”

In your peripheral you see both his eyebrows raise as he makes a ‘huh’ sound and shifts to lean against the counter with his hip. “You speaking Spanish now?”

That makes you laugh and you shake your head, “You'd like that, wouldn't you?” He raises his shoulders as if he didn't know but the smirk on his face tells you what you need to know.

You lean in as if you'd tell him a secret and rest your hand on his waist before basically whispering, “Go and set the table.”

He groans and gently pushes you away as if he was mad, “Yes, ma'am.” He bows exaggeratedly and you watch him with a deadpan look. He looks around the corner into the living room before quickly kissing your cheek and then your lips, squeezing your hip before letting go.

You grin and bite your lip as you watch him go to set the table, distantly hearing him ask the boys who's winning the game and starting a discussion about uno rules.

Later when dinner is ready and served Liam is telling Eddie about his day while Christopher sits next to you. He's pushing the food around on his plate with his fork and you discreetly nudge his elbow with a questioning look.

He doesn't just look up but full on glares at you, dropping his fork noisily. “I don't need your help.”

You flinch back in surprise and furrow your brows. Eddie is looking up now too, making you shrug in confusion.

“Christopher, talk nicely.” He says in his warning dad tone and you watch a little uncomfortably - did you cause this? What did you even do? “No!” Chris bangs his fist on the table and pushes the plate off the table and onto the floor, the loud noise making Liam shriek and look around with wide, scared eyes.

Before you can reach out Eddie shushes him and puts a hand on his back, allowing the eight year old to calm down a bit. Chris however is the opposite. This time he directs his words at you, “We don't need you! You will leave!”

Your eyes go wide and you send a panicked look to Eddie, who looks just as confused. “Chris, what's going on? You like her.” Instead of an explanation he slides off his chair and glares at you again, “You will leave.”

He then hurries to his room and slams the door behind him, causing the dam to break and Liam to star bawling in confusion at the confrontation.

There's an unspoken agreement between you and Eddie as you stand and pick Liam up, letting him cry into your shoulder as you stroke your palm over his back. “I'll see what's up with Christopher. I'm really sorry about what he said,” Eddie mumbles and kisses your temple, at the same time he brushes his hand through Liams hair once.

-

“I think you need to talk to him,” Eddie comes around the corner and looks at you and Liam settled on the couch with the latter fast asleep in your arms. “I don't really think he wants to see me, maybe we should just go home…” you sigh.

“That's exactly what he doesn't want.” Eddie starts and sits next to you, reaching out and taking your hand in his. “I've told you about Shannon... He's scared you'll leave too. He doesn't want to miss you and Liam.”

You frown, “Oh, no. I'll go and try to make him understand we're here to stay.” He nods gladly and kisses the back of your hand and letting you carefully place your son in his arms. Liam wakes up momentarily and when he recognizes Eddie he cuddles up into him and goes back to sleep.

You watch the two with a fond expression and inhale deeply before going to Christophers room and knocking twice.

There's no response so you slowly open the door. He's laying in his bed and when he sees you he frowns again, turning around too slow to hide the tear tracks and red eyes.

You sigh sadly, “May I sit here?” You pat the space on the bed next to his legs and see him shrug under the blankets.

“Listen, I understand you're scared of Liam and me leaving. A lot of people have left you. But, Chris, we're here to stay. I really, really like your dad and I really like you, too. Liam does too.”

It's visible that you're getting through to him when he slowly shifts onto his back and looks at you with a pout and a frown. “Promise?” You smile and nod.

“Pinky promise, even.” You take his hand and wrap your pinky around his.

He smile too now and yawns but surprises you once again tonight as he moves around until his head is laying on your thighs. “You want to go to sleep?” He nods and you pull the blanket up to his shoulders to wrap him in them entirely, carding your hand through his hair to calm him.

Ten minutes later and he's fast asleep, softly snoring as you look down at him. You hear the door creak and see Eddie come in, a relieved and fond expression on his face as he sees you two.

“I see you saved the day?” Rolling your eyes you flip him off and he laughs behind his hand. “Liam is asleep too. I pulled out the couch so he can sleep there without a problem.” he whispers.

“Thank you.” He waves it off and comes close enough to soothe his hands over your shoulders and kiss your head.

Happiness and love is the only thing you feel as you think about those three boys that posed utter chaos together but you loved nevertheless. It's a surprise to no one when you wake up to find Liam and Christopher snuggled in the latter's bed the next morning.

[pretty-circa006]

Unhealthy Attachments pt. 7

Jacket

◀︎previous part

Coach! Negan x Student! F! Reader

summary Negan comes by to get his jacket he left behind, but ends up leaving with you too tags (f) masturbation, a prayer gone wrong, idk if this is blasphemous or not, if it is, i'm sorry

wc 1.4k

*you are responsible for your own content consumption. if this is something you DO NOT like, simply DO NOT read or interact :)*

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆ 

Last night, after Negan left, you realized he left behind his leather jacket. Secretly, you wished he’d come back and get it so you could see him again. Although if he did, you wouldn’t know how to act, especially since you were home alone this time. You shamelessly held the garment up to your nose and inhaled the scent. It smelled like his cologne, which immediately relaxed you. The smell brought you back to all those times Negan comforted you in his arms when you were sad at school and the rare times you’ve hugged him out of happiness. You’d do anything to feel his arms around you again, whether it be hugging you, touching you…feeling you. You pulled the jacket away from your face, embarrassed that your mind went there, and even more ashamed at the wetness pooling between your legs. 

You hurried upstairs to your room and tossed the jacket on your bed before kneeling on the floor. You had to get those sinful thoughts out of your head and you knew exactly how. You closed your eyes, bowed your head, and folded your hands. 

“Dear Lord,” you prayed, “please please please get these sinful thoughts out of my head! I don’t mean to think them, they just appear whenever I think of Negan.” At the mention of his name, your mind automatically wandered to him, recalling that time he came to your rescue in the locker room and took off his sweater, revealing his toned stomach, hip bones, the hair around his belly button that trailed beneath his gym shorts. You shook the image out of your head and tried to continue your prayer. 

“I didn’t mean to sin,” your voice cracked as tears pricked your eyes, “I’m gonna do my best to stop thinking about him like that…” Your mind pictured him pulling off his sweater and t-shirt he always wore underneath all the way off, finally showing you the tattoos you got glimpses of here and there. He’d smirk at you as his licks his lower lip before ordering you to your knees and-

“Please forgive me!” You rushed out, unable to stop the thoughts. Your pussy was soaked and throbbing as you imagined your coach and there was nothing you could do to stop it. Prayer didn’t help, so maybe giving into the thoughts would. You stood up and pulled down your jeans and panties before stepping out of them and getting into your bed. Grabbing the leather jacket, you held it up to your nose and inhaled his scent once again. Your hand quickly found your stiffened clit and began rubbing circles at the perfect pace, pleasuring you further. You were so sensitive that your orgasm was approaching quickly. Your back arched and hips bucked up, rutting against your own hand as your eyes rolled in the back of your head. 

“Ah! Negan!” You moaned out quietly as you pictured it was his hand bringing you closer to your peak. You took another whiff of his jacket, inhaling the faint aromas of cigarettes and cologne, before sitting up. You grabbed one of your pillows and put the jacket on it before humping it as your orgasm washed over you. Hot tears of shame poured out of your eyes as you sobbed, ashamed of what you just did. If Negan or your parents ever found out what you did, they’d never look at you the same again. You were already sure that God was disgusted at your depravity and honestly, you were, too. You buried your face in your other pillow as you sobbed into it. 

Through your sobs you heard the doorbell ring. You ignored it, but the person on the other end kept ringing it and banging on the door. It was probably the mailman or a neighbor wanting a petition to be signed, but their knocking and the bell ringing was growing annoying, so you forced yourself out of bed, not bothering to put on your panties or jeans because your t-shirt was long enough. 

“What!” You snapped as you aggressively flung the door open. You immediately regretted your choice of clothing and attitude when you saw it was Negan standing in the doorway. Your hands flew to the bottom of your t-shirt and tugged at it, trying, but failing, to make it longer. His hazel eyes scanned you up and down, taking in your nervous stance and tear swollen eyes.

“What crawled up your ass and died?” He asked, that dimpled grin on his smug face. You used your other hand to wipe at your teary eyes. 

“What do you- why are you here?” You stuttered. 

“Left my jacket here last night and that shit was expensive as hell, so I came to get it back.” 

Right, the jacket. Your mind was so far gone that you were embarrassed you didn’t realize. 

“Oh, yeah. Right. C-come in, have a seat and I’ll go get it.” He followed you inside, glancing around the living room as if he weren't here yesterday. His eyes, however, lost focus on the plain four walls of the living room when they happened to land on your ass, or at least the little part you struggled to keep from peeking out underneath your oversized t-shirt. You held the shirt tightly between balled fists as you hurried up the stairs, both in a rush to put on some pants and get Negan the hell out of there. 

It was only then that the severity of what you did just hit you. You had just humped his jacket, used his jacket to bring yourself to an orgasm. Knots formed in your stomach upon realizing that you'll have to give him his jacket that you just masturbated with. Your heart beat faster and your hands shook as you picked his jacket up off your bed. You inspected it and relaxed a little upon realizing your actions seemingly left no trace. After quickly throwing your panties and jeans back on, you hurry back downstairs with the jacket in hand. 

"What's with the outfit change? What you had on before was cute," he teased with a shit eating grin on his face. 

Shame burned on your face and you violently tossed the jacket at him, but Negan being Negan, he caught it effortlessly. 

"Well, there's your jacket..." you said awkwardly, almost as if you were dismissing him from your home. Truthfully, though, you didn't want him to leave, even if it was hard to face him. 

The silence in the air was stiff as he sat in the living room. He was on the edge of the couch, torn between getting up to leave, and staying. When his eyes met yours, you quickly averted them, choosing to look toward the kitchen instead. Last night, you were so bold. You were all over him, being such a tease, but now you seemed more shy than before. He didn't know what changed, but it seemed to tell him all he felt he needed to know; he was making you uncomfortable, and that's the last thing he'd ever want to do. 

"Guess I'll head out now. Got shit to do," he announced as he stood from his seat on the couch. 

"Wait!" you squeaked, causing him to freeze. Oddly enough, a tinge of relief washed over him at that. 

"Do...do you want something to drink?" 

He sat back down, this time actually relaxing into the leather couch. "I'll take a beer, sweetheart." The term of endearment caused the butterflies in your tummy to go wild. You hurried into the kitchen, unable to look at Negan any longer, and rummaged through the fridge. You hoped your dad wouldn't be upset if you took one of his beers and gave it to Negan, but you were grounded indefinitely, so did it even matter? 

"Here." You handed him the cold bottle and his larger hand caressed your smaller one during the handoff, causing your breath to catch in your throat. You didn't notice the way the corner of his mouth tugged into a sly smirk at your reaction. You plopped down onto the couch beside him and began chugging the cold glass of water you got for yourself, when in reality, what you really needed was a cold shower. 

"What the hell do you even do all day now that you're on spring break?" he asked between sips of his beer. 

"Absolutely nothing. I'm grounded forever, remember?" 

"Why don't we get out of here?" 

You think for a second. Deep down you were afraid of getting into more trouble, but following your parents' rules your whole life led you to being the most hated in your school and having no friends. 

"Let's go." 

Next Part ▶︎

@dungeons-bat since you asked to be tagged!

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DP x DC prompt. ~“Unstable connection”~ Dead on main.

Part 13. Hungry Ghost Festival 2

or Unplanned Criminal Lord’s Vacation with uncle John.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7.

Part 8. Part 9. New: Part 9.1. Part 9.2. Part 9.3.

Part 10. Part 11. Part 12. Meme break №1. Part 13.

~~~~

Jason looked at the phone screen and didn’t believe Danny has really decided to entrust his safety in the haunted lair to one drunk and unrequited Phantom.

He had enough. Jason jumped up and grabbed his helmet off the table.

‘Where do you think you’re going? Patrol’s coming soon.’ Tim took his eyes off the documents.

‘None of your business.’ Red Hood quickly found keys to a jet and ran for an exit. ‘Cass, while I’m gone, you’re in charge of the alley.’

~~~~

Demons, spirits, and ghosts swung around as if in a dance. And Danny, whom Jason easily spotted entering The Gambler’s Den, did not seem foreign at this festival of death. The red light gently illuminated his pale skin, which almost fused with color of his white kimono. The flowing fabric made his silhouette as blurry and elusive as most visitors.

One second without looking at the boy, and he was in the opposite corner, where the crowd were much smaller. VIP zone? Otherworldly creatures, deserving special treatment, were rarely friendly to humans. And Jason was tense about it for a moment. But after noticing waving with enthusiasm teenager, a man in white clothes rushed to respond to the gesture and a ghost with an eye patch sitting in the chair nodded to him, ringing with silver earrings.

Jason let his guard down a bit.

Another man in the black robe was not distracted by Danny. He threw the bones and glanced at them in disappointment. Then ghoul banged the table with fist. He rose, grabbed from a nearby bowl a mantou and bit. The next second his face was distorted by awareness and disgust.

He abruptly removed the triangle-shaped headband from Danny’s head and spat out a bite into it. Then ghoul fell to a floor. Well, nice carpets have softened it.

Jason shook his head, trying not to laugh at the strange situation.

At the same time, Danny boldly stepped over the fallen player and sat in a chair in front of the ghost in black and red clothes. The man began to demonstrate a technique of throwing bones, with continuous ringing after moving of his hands. Danny seemed passionate about this.

Constantine, who did not come with the Red Hood voluntarily, decides for the first time in the evening to speak out.

‘That’s weird.’ Constantine said with an intonation that spoke of his distrust of the situation.

‘What is it now?’ Jason took his eyes off the object of interest.

Fenton must be watched for his safety. Why did the warlock distract him? Jason completely distrusted Danny’s promise not to use his body parts as a bet.

‘His clothes.’ Constantine looked at the boy with discomfort. ‘Boy, are you sure your lover is alive?’

‘Don’t be rude. He looks great,’ said Jason ‘Maybe Danny wanted to dress up in a traditional costume.  And it's not polite to ask people if they are alive. He’s always pale in all the photos. ’

 Jason didn’t think costume selection was such a big deal.

‘No.’ Warlock shook his head ‘Kimono is Japanese national costume, not Chinese at all. And it’s on the left side which means your boyf..’ 

Unfamiliar to Jason spirit came up and patted Danny on the shoulder. The spirit and the boy bowed to each other.

‘I see.’ The puzzled expression on the warlock’s face is gone. ‘Your lover has interesting friends, Hood.’

 ‘Who is this guy? Explanation. Now.’ Jason barked irritably. Why did he always have to pull every word out of John?

‘Nurarihyon. Don’t be so nervous, he’s not dangerous to people. I just realized your boy here after a walk with Hyakki Yakko. Which explains the clothes.’ Сonstantine exhaled cigarette smoke and continued. ‘Your love doesn’t waste any time. In one evening, he met three ghost kings.’

‘Hyakki Yakko?’ Jason asked a lot calmer.

‘The night parade of one hundred demons when all of the yōkai, oni, ghosts parade through the streets.’ John shrugged his shoulders and shook the ashes off the cigarette into the nearest ashtray. It was also red and black. Warlock winced. ‘But your boyfriend feels like a fish in the water. Whoever his protector is, he is respected enough here. Let the guy have a drink and have some fun, he’ll be fine.’

‘God. Danny’s like a sheep in wolf’s clothing’ Jason sighed anxiously. ‘His parents are ghost hunters but he’s here as a plus one for Phantom, a ghost from Amity Park.’

‘More like a wolf in sheep’s clothing.’ Constantine muttered to himself. But when he saw a silver butterfly nearby, he decided that revealing other people’s secrets was not his problem. ‘I know who the Phantom is. Everyone has heard about Pariah Dark.’

Jason has not heard about him, but decided to keep quiet so as not to make a fool of himself. He will ask Danny about it.

Constantine took a brandy from the bartender. Then he took a big sip and looked at Jason. ‘You know, I always thought Little Red Riding Hood was incredibly stupid to let a wolf eat herself.’

‘What’s this about, Constantine?’ Hood rolled his eyes under the helmet.

And immediately he was glad that John did not see it. In the end, he helped him a lot not to scare Danny. Without the old man’s comments, he could have easily carried the boy away from the local ghosts on his shoulder like a caveman.

Jay didn’t want to spoil a first impression of a face-to-face meeting because of a kidnapping. Although, looking at how comfortable Fenton was among the nonhuman creatures, Jason doubted that Danny would have been screaming and panicking. But he wouldn’t be happy about being distracted from the fun. Hood shook his head in disappointment.

‘Nothing important.’ John brushed the silver butterfly off his shoulder. ‘You know, I’m in debt to the owner, so..If you don’t need my favors anymore, I’m leaving.’

‘Wait. Help me find Phantom.’ Сrime lord stopped him. ‘I need to make sure he doesn’t leave Danny here alone.’

John turned and looked at him as if he were terminally ill. ‘Phantom is in this room now. Only an idiot would have missed him.’ John spoke slowly and clearly, raising one eyebrow. ‘A conference of four kings. No joke. Stop poking around and messing up international relations, kid.’

Jason looked around the room again. ‘I don’t see him.’

‘Because you’re an idiot, kid’ John patted Jay on the shoulder and left. ‘Good luck explaining to Batman why you stole his jet.’

‘Heck.’

[sweetercalypso]

New Gods ✩ Abby Anderson

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: The first time Abby meets seraphite!reader, she shows her mercy. The second time they meet, reader repays her kindness

Notes: minors dni; fingering and oral (Abby rec.), semi-public sex, afab reader, dom!Abby, mean!Abby, mentions of guns, brief violence, religious references, enemies to lovers

When Abby hears that she’s being put on a patrol headed for the abandoned side of town, she thinks it’s a joke.

Surely this was some form of punishment, or a test of her loyalty to Isaac’s command. Two weeks in an unoccupied base with a batch of new recruits – it has to be a mistake.

It’s not until the transport truck pulls away from the stadium that Abby accepts the reality of the situation, groaning into her hands to hide her indignation.

The only good thing about this patrol, she thinks, is that absolutely nothing can go wrong.

Abby and her entourage of WLF recruits arrive at their assigned base late in the evening, the sun already sinking low behind Seattle’s derelict skyline.

The city is silent beyond the hum of the armored truck rolling to a stop in front of an old office building. Years ago, the area had been a thriving hub of WLF activity, but the threat of Seraphite armies had shifted attention elsewhere, leaving the bases to sit empty and collecting dust.

Abby swallows her complaints as the truck’s engine shuts off, leaving a jarring silence that prompts her fellow gunmen to turn their collective attention towards her.

Her expertise is better suited to combat than to training, and the thought of being in charge of four wide-eyed rookies makes her question the sanity of whoever put this team together.

She briefly explains the patrol assignment before dolling out tasks to each of the recruits, leaving herself the duty of surveying the perimeter.

Early WLF soldiers had cleared most of the infected while the area was still active, and with the lack of excitement in the streets, Abby returns to the base with the verdict that this patrol will be entirely uneventful.

While the others are setting up camp on the second floor – five cots lined against a wall with a radio station by the windows and supply crates littered around the room – Abby keeps herself busy with watching the thick, heavy clouds rolling in the distance.

She imagines what she might be doing if she had been placed on a different patrol and she crosses her arms over her chest with a bitter sigh.

 Anything has to be more exciting than this.

 –

Abby awakens while the sky is still dark, the remaining light of dusk swallowed by the inky black threat of storm clouds overhead.

Thunder cracks viciously in the air, rumbling the dusty room and promising to crumble the building’s frame already bowing under years of neglect.

The sound of her distress is barely audible over the harsh rain beating against the windows and, for a moment, Abby can’t remember where she is.

Her mouth feels dry, and it takes an effort to slow her labored breaths. She runs a hand over her face, wiping away her momentary confusion before checking that the other patrollers are still asleep, slipping off her cot and stumbling blindly through the darkened room.

Her weapons and her pack are still resting against a nearby crate, exactly where she’d left them. She slips the strap of her backpack between her fingers, hoping that the familiar worn canvas will distract from the deafening thunder crackling in her ears.

She holds her breath and counts the seconds between the streaks of lightning and claps of thunder – a trick her dad had taught her when she was young.

Somewhere between flash and bang, the sound of footsteps overhead catches Abby’s attention. Her head jerks up towards the source of the noise and she quickly forgets about the looming urgency of bad weather.

The door to the stairwell is propped open, and although Abby knows it was left ajar to air out the stuffy office space, she can’t help but imagine something sinister looming beyond the doorway.

She grabs the closest gun and makes her way to the stairs, listening for the sounds of movement overhead.

All the floors had been checked for infected and all the windows had been secured, but Abby still couldn’t shake the thought of someone invading their base in the dead of night.

She treads up the stairs and pushes the door open, only to be met with the sight of a lonely silhouette moving through the darkness. Abby jumps into action just as she’d been taught, heart thumping wildly as she raises her weapon and aims.

“Get on the ground – now!”

She spits out the stern command, harsh but still quiet enough that it barely fills the room. Despite the anger twisting in her chest, she’s rational enough to know better than to alert the other patrollers sleeping downstairs.

From the looks of it, the intruder was here alone, unarmed. It seemed better to deal with the situation on her own than to cause unwarranted panic the first night in to a new assignment.

The sound of her voice must’ve caught you by surprise because you stop dead in your tracks, not even moving to lunge for cover from the stranger gunning you down.

Illuminated by only the sharp flashes of lightning cutting through the shadows, it takes a moment for Abby to piece together the scene before her.

You’re soaked to the bone, cloaked in brown cloth and shivering from the rain clinging to your skin.

At first, she thought you might’ve been a soldier from another patrol, separated from your group and seeking shelter in an expectedly empty outpost. Or maybe you could’ve been a straggler roaming the city in search of supplies left behind by its former inhabitants.

But when a crack of lightning catches your features at the right angle, Abby recognizes the mark stretching across your cheek, and realization washes over her.

“Fucking Scars.”

She keeps her gun steady, though her fingers flex against the heavy, steel grip.  

With eyes trained diligently on your figure, she closes the distance between the two of you in a few short steps, scowling when she’s close enough to discern the look of confusion on your face.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” She doesn’t wait for a reply, shoving the muzzle of her gun roughly into your shoulder and spitting out a sharp “answer me”.

Her boot hits the back of your leg and you crumble into the floor with swallowed discontent.

“I’m not- I didn’t know you would be here.” You scramble to explain yourself, chancing a look at Abby standing behind you. She pushes her gun further into your shoulder, silently instructing your gaze back to the floor.

“This building’s supposed to be empty. It says so on the map.”

“You’re spying on our bases?” Her voice rises with every word, no longer concerned with who might hear. “Planning a fucking ambush?”

“No! Nothing like that. I’m not a soldier, I was supposed to collect supplies from the city, but I got caught in the rain.”

She laughs and rolls her shoulders reflexively.

“I don’t care why you’re here – Scars don’t get second chances.”

Thunder rattles the thin-paned windows lining the room. Abby’s heartbeat fills her ears. Prayer tumbles from your lips like the nervous chatter of teeth – uneasy, repetitive, instinctive.

Abby had never given much thought to prayer before, especially not that of a Scar. It’s always the same routine pleading that’ll never be answered. But it doesn’t sound like you’re begging for salvation, it sounds like you’re making peace.

Something about the situation doesn’t seem fair. You’re completely helpless, caught in a trap you couldn’t see laid out in front of you. Your people must’ve known something like this could happen, yet they sent you into the wolves’ den, anyway – a sacrificial lamb led to the slaughter.

A foreign pang of uncertainty resonates through Abby’s chest, and she lowers her gun with a shake of her head.

“Just- just go.”

A beat passes before you look back at Abby in disbelief. You gape blankly at her for a moment before mouthing a small “what?”.

She huffs impatiently and grabs you by the arm, hauling you up from your position on the floor. If anyone came in and found the two of you standing this close, you’d both be dead before you could part.

“Leave. Now. If the others find you here, they won’t be so nice.”

Her eyes flit over your face, searching for confirmation that she was doing the right thing. She expected to find fear etched into your features, maybe gratefulness, or even shock. But she’s met with only curiosity in your wide, unblinking eyes.

She pushes you away and turns to leave before she can change her mind, shutting the door behind her with a soft thud.

Abby knows what the other patrollers would’ve done if they had found you first. She knows what she would’ve done if the circumstances had been different.

You should be dead – or worse. It hadn’t been that long since she’d assisted in the interrogations that happened to Scars who’d been captured and strung up in cells for the rest of their days.

When Abby thinks about those people now, only one face stares back at her.

–

The next morning, Abby is forced to bite her tongue when someone finds the upstairs window open, raindrops clinging to the wood frame serving as the only evidence of your intrusion.

She blames it on one of the other patrollers, suggesting that they didn’t do a thorough enough sweep the night before, but not everyone is convinced.  

They search the building anyway but come up empty-handed, and the situation is defused and entirely forgotten by midday.

For the remainder of their two-week patrol, Abby wonders if you had really been there at all, or if you were a product of some underlying guilt she had stored in the back of her mind. She would stay up through night and listen for the sound of footsteps, not sure if she should feel relief or disappointment when the mornings arrived without any sign of you.

When the familiar rumble of the armored truck rolls in to collect Abby and the recruits, she returns to the stadium and does her best to keep you off her mind.

She volunteers for extra shifts; she monitors the communications radio; she listens to stories of other patrollers and wonders if they’re describing you in their encounters with unnamed and faceless Scars.

When she hears about another group headed for the abandoned side of the city, she jumps at the opportunity to join their patrol. Anything for some peace of mind, she tells herself.

They’re dropped off in front of a different building, a couple blocks west of where her last patrol had been located. Abby’s chest deflates when she realizes the absurdity of her desire to find you again.

It’d been weeks since she’d let you go, and surely you’d learned your lesson about venturing near WLF bases alone. Maybe you hadn’t, and someone else had found you before Abby had the chance.

She shivers at the thought and moves to catch up with the rest of her team, abandoning her concern for something more practical.

She offers to check the upper floors while the others bring in supplies, and no one objects to avoiding the endless flights of stairs and dusty rooms waiting for her.

Four floors up, Abby stops to inspect a window that had been broken some time ago. Shards of glass and a handful of dead leaves lay at her feet, and when stoops down to look for anything out of the ordinary, the door to the stairwell creaks shut behind her.

“It’s you.”

Her head whips around at the sound of your voice, familiar but different now that you’re no longer at her will.

From where she stands, Abby can see the way your chest rises and falls with anticipation, the way your hands twist at your sides. She waits for you to speak again, but the room falls silent.

“What’re you doing here?” she hisses, praying that the others were too busy to come check on her progress.

“I heard the truck – I knew you were coming.”

Abby frowns and moves a step closer. “Are you trying to get yourself killed? Do you know how many of those soldiers downstairs would like to get their hands on you?”

You cock your head to the side, as if you didn’t understand.

“You saved my life once already. I wouldn’t have come if I thought I’d be in danger.”

She scoffs at the presumption that she would betray her people again, but a small voice reminds her that’s exactly what she’d planned to do.

She moves past you to leave but you stop her with a hand laid over her arm. Abby’s jaw tenses at the contact, but when her resentful gaze flickers up to meet yours, she’s met with the same unabashed interest you’d worn before.

“I owe you, wolf. The Prophet commands us to repay those who show mercy.”

You pause before continuing. “Anything you want, it’s yours.”

Abby takes a moment to consider. What does she want?

She wants your leader’s head at her feet; she wants to make her friends proud; she wants to understand why she had let you go that night in the storm.

Her eyes trail down to your lips, to the mottled scar etched into your cheek. She wonders what you’d look like without its crooked ridges marring your skin. She wonders how it would feel under her hands.

It catches you both off guard when her parted lips press against yours, teeth clacking together from the fervency of her kiss.

Her hand comes up to cup the back of your neck, though she’s not sure if she wants to pull you closer or push you away. She grunts into your mouth and slides her other hand around your waist. An unfamiliar heat licks at the base of your spine.

“I want you to thank me for letting you go,” she declares.

Seraphite leaders had spoken on end about the corrupt morals of ‘new world’ adherents, but this was not the danger you’d learned to fear. Abby was unique, addicting, and you wanted more.

You fall to your knees at her feet, almost a mirror image of the night you’d met. This time, however, you’re the one in control.

She hums and rubs the pad of her thumb over her swollen bottom lip, still wet with your spit. “That’s a good start.”

Nimble fingers work open the button of her jeans, shimmying the dark denim down her toned, freckled thighs. Her black boxers follow suit, revealing a smattering of blonde hair trailing down from her naval.

Your hands smooth over her heated skin, palming at her hips in an attempt to pull her closer. She concedes and shuffles forward until her cunt presses to your awaiting mouth and your tongue dips out to taste her.

It’s like nothing either of you have experienced – the guilt of betraying your own people, the trust that comes from such inconceivable circumstances. It’s all too much to comprehend, so you choose to ignore it for the time being.

Abby’s head tips back with a sigh, little breaths and chirps of pleasure pushed from her lungs as your tongue flattens over her clit.

It almost looks like you’re praying, Abby decides. Kneeling in front of your altar, eyes screwed shut, searching for a sign from some divine being. She cards her fingers through your hair and tugs at the roots, pulling you impossibly closer.

It’s messy, greedy, downright sinful the way you press your mouth to her. Slick coats your chin and your cheeks, glistening in the dim light streaming through the windows.

You’re spurred on by the way she tilts her hips, the wet squelch of her cunt against your mouth. Her thighs flex against the sides of your face, smothering your cheeks in her arousal.

“Ah- just like that.”

In addition to your tongue roaming everywhere you can reach, your thumb comes up to rub firm circles against her clit. After a moment, you switch positions, dragging your fingers through her slick and dipping two digits inside her.

She gasps at the intrusion and bucks her hips harshly, urging you to move faster. Your fingers curl inside her, driving into that gummy spot at the top of her walls while you suction her clit into your mouth.

“Fuck,” she pants, grinding down on your mouth. “M’gonna come.”

It’s not long before she’s shuddering through her release, choking back a poorly suppressed moan while she fights to keep her eyes open. You continue to work over her mound until she releases your hair from her grip and takes half a step back on shaky legs.

Remembering her earlier request for gratitude, you lean back on your heels and lick the remnants of her slick from your lips.

“Thank you, wolf.”

She looks down as if she’d only just remembered you were there and her eyes sparkle with renewed interest. A lazy smirk tugs at the corners of her mouth.

“You gonna stay so I can return the favor?”