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taintandviolent · 6 months ago

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Nosy Neighbours ; Gambit x Reader

summary: PART ONE TO TACO TUESDAY! PART THREE HERE! Reader wakes up after a night of debauchery.... and continues it. Post-Void, everyone got out alive and everything is fine.

word count & w a r n i n g s: 5.2K | smut with very little plot, French and typing out accents/dialects, pet names (chere, mon ami, mon coeur, etc.), dirty talk, fingering, unprotected sex, p in v, blowjobs, eating out, no use of y/n, a sprinkling of angst at the end because things are developing for reader.

a/n: Listen, listen. I am blown away by the love on my first Remy fic, and the fact that you guys wanted a part two made my day. Thank you so much for all the praise and I hope this one lives up to the hype as well! part 3....? peut être... - banner by @/strangergraphics, and Remy gif by @atomicfoxx!

↓ full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!

Sunlight filters in through the crack in your curtains, warming a stripe across your thigh and stomach. You squeeze your lids shut tighter and turn your head away from the window, trying to get away from the glaring brightness. A grogginess lingers heavy in your system, but despite that, your body is giving you all the internal signals that it's time to wake up. You stretch deeply, muscles quivering as you flay your limbs out on the bed.

You hadn't gotten that drunk. At least, you didn't think you had. You don't remember falling asleep, but you definitely remember the dreams you had. They were lusty, lewd and lascivious, and every other adjective to describe naughty; your brain had conjured up the filthiest dreams you'd had since... well, ever. And they were all with the Cajun guy you'd met at Wade's. Remy. You remembered his name because you'd said it at least a dozen times in your dream.

Still half asleep, you flop over, throwing your arm and leg over onto the mattress. Your sheets are pulled down on one side, oddly, but you assume you just tried kicking them off or burritoing yourself in the night. Nothing out of the ordinary. You sniff and an unexpected sweet, warm fragrance fills your nostrils. Breakfast? You roll over again, and sit bolt upright to look down the hall. You suck in a breath and hold it, listening intently to the sounds coming from your kitchen; the scrape of metal against cast iron and a distinct sizzling sound.

“What the hell?” You whisper, scooting yourself to the edge of the mattress.

As you get up off the bed, you pull the sheet with you, wrapping it around your naked body, which honestly, was odd - you never slept nude – always in an oversized shirt. Your muscles seem to shake as you walk, and ache pings somewhere in the area of your hip flexors as you pad down the hall, barefoot. When you get to the kitchen, there’s a visual in front of you that causes you to come to a screeching halt.

Had it really not been a dream?

You nearly have to pick your jaw up off of the floor. He – Remy – stands in your kitchen, over your stove, in nothing but his purple briefs and your polka dotted apron, which hasn't been tied and hangs from his muscular neck.

As he tends to the bacon sizzling in the pan, he sees you in his peripheral, and turns his head slightly, a bright but relaxed smile on his face — the look of it tickles something in your core. You hum quietly.

"Mornin', cher."

What you want to say is holy shit but you instead mutter out an inquisitive and unsure: "Uhhh, morning...?"

Even though you’ve seen him naked before, you’re still flabbergasted by the visual. You swallow, and let your eyes fall down the length of his body; tan skin pulled taut over sculpted muscles. He's just as delicious now as he was in your dreams. Maybe even moreso, with the lingering cuddle of sleep, his hair mussed, and the sunlight beaming in from the small window over the sink, kissing his skin in a yellow haze.

"Hungry, mon ami?"

"Starved, actually." You blink away from his half-naked form and up to his face. "I'm so sorry, am I still asleep or did we....?"

Remy chuckles and flips the bacon. "We sho’ did. I ain’t remember the last time I had it like ‘dat."

You take a breath, and think back. It doesn’t take long to differentiate between dreams and reality as it all comes rushing back, playing out in your mind like a dirty movie.

The way he held you close to his chest, the way his hands explored your body, fingertips kissing your flesh... the way his thick cock felt as it filled you, pleasure coursing through your body in ways that you’d never experienced before. The way he spoke, the way you said — moaned — his name. The way you nuzzled into the crook of his shoulder after you both had cum, the way he’d stroked your hair as you fell asleep…

You swallow and blink again, bringing yourself back to reality. Remy is plating the bacon and walks it over to your small kitchen table. He gestures with a nod of his head and you walk over, plopping down into the seat, which squeaks as you do. Tucking the sheets underneath your armpits, you reach forward and pluck a single piece from the plate; it's warm and sticky, and tastes like maple syrup. You hum happily as you chew, and Remy takes a piece for himself as he sits down in the chair across from you.

"Remy," you coo. It sounds far more wanton than you intend, almost a moan. Judging by his reaction, it sounds familiar — like the way you were whining his name last night as he hammered into you.

"Hoo, don't start 'dat again or we gon' be havin' a repeat of last night."

You swallow the mouthful of bacon and reach for another strip. He’s a good cook on top of everything, and made the bacon just the way you liked it. Great.

“Listen, I… I’m not usually like… that. I don’t hook up with random guys or anything.”

“Is ‘dat what ‘dat was?” He asks, a taunting tone in his voice. There’s something behind it, something warm and inviting, but you shake the thought off.

“Wasn’t it? Isn’t that what that’s… classified as? I’m…”

He interjected, pushing the plate towards you. “Well, I dunno’, cher. You fell asleep in my arms… and I’m still here.”

You munch on another slice of bacon as you grapple with the fact that maybe it wasn’t just a one-night stand. Your eyes glaze over, staring at nothing in particular as you consider a couple of things.

First, was the fact that you’d never been one for one night stands. They were frivolous, and usually ended in embarrassment or heartbreak. Neither of which had happened here. He had a glaring point; he had stayed, and apparently, you were comfortable enough to fall asleep in his arms. Another something that you never did.

Second, was the fact that you’d also never really been one for the whole fate, destiny, or soulmate thing. That was cringy, and not something you’d ever entertained, because why would you? Save for a few meaningless relationships in college, you’d been alone and liked it that way. Less to deal with, less to have to clean up at the end of the day. You weren’t actively looking for a relationship, but Remy had just been there. Wasn’t that how fate worked? You furrowed your brows.

Third, was the undeniable fact that something – and you didn’t know what – but something about Remy had been written deep within the confines of your heart. The magnetic pull that you’d felt towards him last night still lingered heavily, and you wanted nothing more than to push yourself against him and feel his body against yours.

Lust at first sight. That’s got to be what it is, you decide. You’re in lust with him.

But why not test it again…. Just to be sure. Your cunt clenches in anticipation, having been sent the signals that you plan to pursue him. Again.

The wanton voice returns as you push yourself up out of your seat, leaning over the kitchen table. “Maybe we should… do it again… for good measure. Remy…”

"Chere, what did Remy say about usin' ‘dat voice...?"

"What if that's what I want?"

Remy's chewing slows and his eyes lift to yours. The legs of the chair scrape against the tile as he stands up, stretching forward to meet your mouth. Your lips barely graze each other, before –

As if on cue, someone knocks at the door, the sound echoing in your ears. Shit. You hesitate for a moment, eyes darting towards the door.

“I’ll get it.”

Begrudgingly, you move away from him, kick the sheet out behind you so you don’t trip on it, and hurry to the door, unlatching it.

"Wade," you breathe as you throw open the door, almost exasperated.

Wade pauses for a beat, assessing your appearance. "Oooh, good morning, sunshine. Looks like someone celebrated Taco Tuesday with some extra Cajun seasoning."

You heave a sigh; half out of annoyance and half out of embarrassment, because the reality was, you hadn't looked in the mirror this morning, so your appearance was a mystery. You look down at your sheet-clad body, and pull it tighter around you, as if that's giving back any of your modesty.

Wade leans on the doorframe, grinning like an absolute idiot. Lips pursed, he wiggles his eyebrows (or lack thereof) at you and waits for you to say something. Confess something. He's waiting for the juicy details, and you aren't delivering.

"Speak, Lassie! Tell us what happened!"

You huff. "What do you want, Wade?"

"So hostile. Actually, like State Farm, I was just being a good neighbour. Checking on you and the Cajun Sensation since you two never came ba - oh fuck me is he in his underwear? What in the Magic Mike is happening here?" He peeks over your shoulder, spotting the half-naked Gambit behind you.

"Wade!" You try to lean into his line of sight, preventing him from looking any further. "Look, I hardly know you, I'm not about to divulge my sex life to you-"

"Woah, TMI, princess. But thanks for the confirmation!"

"What!? No, that's not what I meant! I'm just..."

"Sure, pumpkin. It's okay, Disney gave it an R-rating for a reason."

"What are you talking about?"

"Nothing." You snap, obviously frustrated. "Look, I'm fine. Everything is fine, we just --"

Remy's voice comes from behind you, fast approaching. "Cher? Everythin' alright?"

You cast your glance behind you briefly – he’s ditched the apron, and is now in nothing but those tight fitting briefs that leave little to the imagination. God, he's so attentive. He’s already acting like a boyfriend, a thought that turns your guts to butterflies.

Wade preens, clearly amused. "Oohh, well fuck me sideways. It was that kind of night, huh? Real x reader type plot. Cute. Have you said I love you yet? Or is that chapter three?"

You bristle, absolutely appalled at the question. Behind you, Remy opens the door further and raises one arm over his head, leaning it on the wood of the interior frame. He sees Wade and grins brightly, a twist to his lips, almost like he knows what’s happening.

“Mornin’, mon petit rouge.” (My little red)

“Oooh, I felt a tingle with that one.”

Remy chuckles, shaking his head lightly. Starting with his bare bicep, which was now on full display, Wade's eyes trail down the length of Remy's body, lingering far too long at his groin before snapping back up to his face.

"Jesus fuck, someone needs to put Agent Tequila on ice again. I thought it was Texas where everything is bigger–"

You feel your cheeks get hot and your eyes widen. “CHRIST, Wade!"

“Oh please, drop the Sandra Dee act, pookie. You two fucked nasty and everyone knows it. At least the whole floor.”

Behind you, Remy laughs low. You can feel his gaze on you, tunneling into you, almost as if he’s waiting for you to confirm or deny. The decision weighs heavy on your shoulders, and finally, you blurt out an answer.

“Okay, so we did. Happy now?”

Wade’s shoulders drop and he heaves an over dramatic sigh. “Hallelujah. There, doesn’t honesty feel good?”

Remy leans forward, his voice barely a whisper. “Not as good as what I did to you last night, huh cher?”

“Heard that.” Wade barks.

Your entire face feels hot, and the blush is spreading down your neck the longer this goes on.

Remy’s hand comes forward to take a fistful of your ass, squeezing firmly before giving it a determinate smack and heading back to the table. He’s apparently ascertained that the situation is safe; Wade may be a character but he means no harm. You stiffen at the feeling, fighting against the betrayal of your body. Wade arches a brow, his eyes darting to the very subtle way that your hips pitch forward stiffly.

“Anyway, this isn’t a threesome — could be, but isn’t — so I’m going back home. I have a big… wet… chimichanga waiting for me. Toodles.”

You’re relieved he ends the conversation before you have to; you aren’t quite sure what might’ve come out of your mouth had he stayed any longer and as an afterthought, you don’t want to create hostility with your next door neighbour. You shut your door, throwing the deadbolt into place.

You march back to the table with an apparent chip on your shoulder over the interaction with Wade – which all things considered, wasn’t that bad, but you’re still worked up. Your muscles are tense with frustration, which you don't notice until Remy's large hands are sliding up the sides of your arms. He eventually gets to your shoulders, which he pinches and massages between his fingers, forcing them back into a more relaxed state. You let out a sigh, and buck your hips back slightly. His groin is pressed up against the ample curve of your ass, your bodies fitting together like a erotic puzzle piece.

“What’re you all mad for, cher? C’mon now…”

“Who does he think he is? Making me confess that… and I’m a grown wo—“

“You was pretty loud last night.” He interjects, that mischievous smirk on his lips.

You spin around in his grasp and cross your arms, shooting him a disapproving look. “Whose side are you on here?”

He's unphased by your anger, and instead, brings his hands up to your cheeks, pulling them forward until your head gives way, and your lips smash against his.

At this, you let out a mewl of faux discomfort, and Remy smirks against your lips. He shakes his head softly, and pulls you closer at the waist. After a moment, he breaks the kiss and looks down at your sheet-clad figure. While it is a tantalizing sight -- the way the sheet drapes over your figure, conforming to the curve of your breasts, peaking over your semi-hard nipples -- he wants to see your body again. It's been hours, and he's craving it again.

“Yours.” His voice is so sure, so low and so close.

Well… his hands are definitely on your sides. They roam between your waist and your hips for a few moments before he makes a fist with one of them, the gray fabric bunching between his fingers.

“Who you bein’ modest for, huh? You don’t need ‘dis. Ain’t nothin’ I haven’t seen before.”

“I… I don’t know…” you whisper, falling into the trap of his eyes again. When he looks at you, really looks at you, you feel like you’re standing at the edge of a building, but going nowhere, because his big, brawny arms are wrapped around you tight. You’ve never felt safer. Uh-oh. That’s not good.

As he drags his fist down the front of your body, the sheet pulls free of your arms, the fabric grazing your nipples. The sensation has them hardening, and Remy’s hand replaces the sheet, running his thumb over one of them, while cupping the fullness of your breast with the rest of his hand.

He leans forward, kissing from your hairline, over your ear and down the curve of your shoulder, sending convulsive shivers down your spine. The feeling of his lips, pressing into your soft, warm skin… your lids flutter. Your hand reaches down, sliding over his taut muscles, until you find the bulge between his legs. The fabric is warm, heated by the fire of his cock. Your fingers curl around the length of it, giving it a gentle squeeze. Unconsciously, his hips pitch forward, forcing more pressure on your palm.

"Remy," you breathe, looking down between your bodies. His briefs are tenting now, his cock straining against the fabric. You swallow back the saliva that's gathering in your mouth, literally on the verge of drooling. 'I wanna'... I have to -- need to taste you."

"In Louisiana, 'dey call 'dat having an envie for somethin'."

"Yeah, well I have an envie for your cock right now, so..."

The surprise is apparent on his face, his brows lifting on his forehead, but it quickly morphs into something more lusty, something more pleased. His dick jumps at your words and he reaches up to grip your chin firmly, looking hard at your mouth.

Aroused, his accent thickens. "Hoo, you a naughty girl with 'dat mouth. Why don't you show me what else it can do, huh?"

You nod and sink to your knees, slowly. Once you're situated in front of his groin, you reach up and hook your fingers around the elastic of his waistband, peeling it away from his skin. You lean forward to trace the tip of your tongue along the lines of muscle, that tantalizing V cut. Remy chokes on his breath, as your tongue flattens against the skin.

You continue baring him, pulling the fabric down his thighs in one quick motion. He helps you by kicking them off to the side, and now stands, completely bare in front of you. His cock bounces heavy in front of your face and you immediately take him into your hand, wasting no time. You wrap one hand around the thick shaft, towards the base, and slide it slowly up towards the tip.

The heat coming off his cock radiates into your palm and the contrast of the velvet, soft skin, and the aching, rigid center has your mouth (and cunt) drooling. You can't help it, and the way Remy's muscles flex every time you move your hand eggs you on. You begin stroking his cock, slowly, but tightly and his breath hitches in his throat. Tightening his abdominal muscles as he does, Remy bucks his hips, forcing his dick through the circle of your fingers. The precum is spreading now, making the action easy. His head is down, watching you intently.

“‘Dat’s it, babygirl, just like ‘dat…”

As you drag the head over your bottom lip, glossing it with precum, it twitches in your grip. Extending your tongue, you slap the heavy, fat tip against it a few times, teasing him. Your lips wrap around the head, tongue massaging the underside with a flattened tongue.

Remy braces his hands on the counter top above you, his breath rushing out.

“Hoo, you don’t need no help from Remy, you know what you’re doin’.”

You nod and tighten your grip around the base, leaning your mouth forward to press a single kiss against the tip. Your tongue peeks out, licking a long stripe from the base to the head, and you hear Remy make a sound that can only be described as a growl. You moan against his cock, the sound buzzing against his skin. He bucks again, forcing his cock further into your mouth.

Remy’s grip tightens on the counter top. He’s doing his best to keep it together but the way that your warm, wet mouth has enveloped him, the way that you’re gently sucking as your head bobs, the way your fingers wrap around his cock, gripping him firmly and jerking him off at the base has him in pieces. Aside from last night, he can’t remember the last time he’s felt this good – certainly not in the Void, and try as he might, no memories are coming forward from before the Void. All he feels – and sees – is you. You. You, in your naked, morning messy glory. His chest rises and falls with ragged breaths, his gaze heavy and half-lidded.

You have to open wide to take him all the way in, but you don’t care. The weight of his cock on your tongue has your cunt weeping profusely between your legs, and the head nudges the back of your throat, teasing at your gag reflex. You steady yourself and get back to it. Your nose prods the thatch of coarse hair above his cock as you deep throat him, over and over again. The salty pre-cum glides over your tongue, saturating it with the taste that you’re craving.

“Mon coeur,” He exhales a low, raspy breath, and backs his hips away from your mouth, his dick leaving your lips with a wet shlick. You stare up at him with wide, unknowing eyes, chin covered in saliva. His cock twitches in your grip; the visual is erotic.

“Believe me when I say ‘dis, cher. I wanna’ make a mess on your face, but Remy ain’t ready for it to be ova’. C’mere.”

With a gentle tap, he urges you up off your knees, helping you to get to your feet. Just like before, he’s hoisting you up into his arms and you’re ready to be carried off again, but this time your ass comes down atop the counter, and Remy slots himself between your legs.

“Wait-wait…. What are you doing?”

“Eatin’, mon ami.” He says it so nonchalantly and throws in the ever casual mon ami as though this is something done between friends. His hands cup your kneecaps, urging them apart with careful urgency. He looks at your cunt, and his brows lift slowly, a smirk crawling across his lips.

“Hoo…” He chuckles, running a single finger along the slit of your cunt. As he pulls back, his finger is coated in your arousal, thick strands of clear stringing from your cunt to the tip of his finger. “You get yourself all worked up while you were down ‘dere? She is glistenin’, cher.”

You’re almost embarrassed. Almost. You hadn’t told him, but giving head was a massive turn-on. Besides that, the mere sight of his massive cock was enough to get your engines running. Something about admitting that to him sounds a little too whorish, so you keep your mouth shut. You whine, leaning your head against the cabinets and buck your hips forward, closer to the edge.

It’s as though he can tell you’re withholding something from him.

“Ah-ah, cher…” He brings his face close to yours, licking at your mouth. “Tell Remy what’s on your mind.”

“I… I like giving head… I like giving you head…. I like…”

He nods, encouraging you further. Embarrassment flushes your cheeks, and you roll your eyes to the ceiling.

“Ugh, okay. You have an amazing cock, and I like having it in every part of me.” You curse yourself for being so honest.

Now it’s Remy that’s on his knees, and he dives at your cunt like a man starved. His tongue is strong and warm against your clit, flicking upwards against the bundle of nerves. He’s burying his mouth in your folds, lapping at it. Every time his tongue nears your opening, you let out a long, whining moan.

Pause. Let’s just recap. Just to make sure we’re on the same god damn page. You met this guy at Wade’s…. Fucked him all night long, he made you breakfast and now he’s giving you the most toe-curling head you’ve ever had. And you think, just maybe, you might be falling in love with him. Cool. Okay.

Your hand snaps to the crown of his head, fingers lacing amongst his hair to hold him to the spot he’s working. His tongue is drilling into your clit, and that’s when you feel the pressure of two fingers, prodding your slick slit.

“Sweeter ‘den ‘dat maple syrup up on your counter,” he says, practically into your cunt. You look down; his gaze is lust-blown, and lips are glossy, spit-slick and reddened. He presses a few gentle kisses to your clit before his tongue starts swiping at it again, and plunging his fingers deep within your core. Just like before, he knows just how to curl his fingers up into the sensitive spot inside you. You let out a moan, and bump your head against the cabinets again.

A shudder rips through your body, overwhelmed at the dual stimulation. His mouth closes around your clit, sucking gently and you can feel the slippery puddle forming on the countertop beneath you. Briefly, you wonder if you’ll just slide off the counter, but really… the only place to go is further into Remy and his mouth.

Abruptly, you feel the flash of heat between your legs and arch your back, readying yourself for the drop. Your cunt aches, throbs and – Remy suddenly pulls away, his chin shimmering with your arousal.

“Huh, I didn’t hear anyone say you could be doin’ ‘dat yet, ah?”

Holy shit. You clench her tight, holding back the wave of an orgasm. Your teeth grind together, legs quivering at the feeling of denial. You were right on the edge, right on the edge of white, hot bliss.

“Ffffuck,” you whisper. “Fuck. Please….”

“I said no, cher. Not yet.” There’s a playful lilt in Remy’s voice and it drives you crazy.

“Fuck me then, please…. I need to feel you.”

He chuckles, and presses a deep kiss to your folds. “You ain’t gonna’ have to ask me twice, ma bichette.” (my little doe)

He slips his fingers out, and inserts them into his mouth, sucking the taste of you off of them. Your jaw drops. It’s such a casual, but erotic action, and your cunt responds feverishly. She’s got a heartbeat of her own at this point, thrumming between your legs. Leaving you leaking on the countertop, Remy gets to his feet and turns around to the kitchen table. He shoves the plates out of the way, somehow not knocking them onto the floor.

“C’mere…”

You’re in his arms again, and he’s swinging you around, plopping you down on the kitchen table. Your hands go back behind you, pressing down into the wood apprehensively.

“I don’t know if this table can support me…. ”

“Don’t you worry ‘bout ‘dat, cher. It might not, but Remy’s gonna’ be holdin’ you tight. This is just givin’ me a betta’ angle, ‘das all.”

He wasn’t lying; most of your weight was in his grasp. One arm was wrapped tightly around your waist, holding you up. You scoot yourself closer to the edge, closer to him, and inhale a deep breath. Remy shuffles forward, his cock leading the way. The red, leaking tip nudges your entrance and he lifts your head to place a kiss against your lips, nibbling softly on the bottom one. He’s so passionate, even amidst the burden of his fiery, seemingly untameable lust. A lover. Fuck… you think. You’re falling into a deep, dark hole that you don’t think you can climb your way out of.

Remy reaches between your bodies, pushing his cock down slightly, until he feels the sopping wet opening of your cunt. Groaning deeply, he stuffs himself inside, inch by inch until your bodies are flush. He finds a rhythm quickly, bucking his hips against you. As he splits you open, you can’t help but moan loud, louder than last night, his cock filling you, throbbing veins rubbing against your inner walls.

“God, yeah… yeah, fuck me hard…!” You chant, sounding more and more like a porn star with every passing moment.

“Only if you give it t’ me, cher… the way you takin’ this dick, I ain’t gonna’ last long.”

You nod hurriedly, looking deep into his eyes. He growls and pulls his hips all the way back before slamming them back into you – hard. Your jaw drops again, and you find yourself staring at the cabinets, vision going hazy with lust as your orgasm rushes to the surface, claiming your body wholly. The plates that previously hung on now go clattering to the floor, but the sound does little to interrupt you two. Remy’s got his dick so deep inside of you that you’re seeing stars, and the sounds that are tumbling from your lips are far louder than the sound of porcelain on tile.

With a smooth, guttural sound, Remy loses it, too. He fills you, deeply, and what leaks out the sides, he hurriedly pumps it back inside of you until his cock starts to soften, his thrusts languid and spent.

“I could do this with you all day…” You whisper into his neck, rubbing your nose against the warm, sweaty flesh there.

“Me too, cher, me too.” He nods, blinking slowly. “But I can’t be doin’ ‘dat… not today.”

You rear back suddenly, looking him in the eyes. They’ve still got that mischievous glimmer that he seems to always possess, but there’s something behind them. A sort of… coldness, that has your arms falling away from him.

“You have to leave…” you say softly, suddenly understanding.

Remy nods, and slips out of you, pressing a kiss to your damp forehead. He pushes your hair out of your face, and rubs his thumb along the fullness of your cheek. He disappears then, and your shoulders sink slightly. You stay on the table for a few minutes, your legs hanging limply off the table, just listening to the sounds of him getting dressed; the gentle rustle of clothing, the snap of his elastic waistband as it hugs him.

Finally, you hop off the table, and bend down to retrieve the rumpled pile of sheet. You hold it against your body, not worrying about what’s showing. Like he said before, he’s seen everything. You turn, and spot him – standing tall behind your couch. He reaches for his leather jacket.

He’s attractive, so the sight of him dressed is to be appreciated as much as him undressed, but there’s a pang of sadness in your chest. Your lungs feel tight, and you wring the sheets around your fingers as he smoothes a hand through his hair, tousling it lightly. Again, as though he’s in tune to your emotions, he seems to notice that you’re staring sullenly.

“Remy be needin’ to deal with some things, cher…” he says, adjusting himself in his jacket. You wonder what it is he has to deal with, where he has to go. It’s none of your business, you’re sure. You want to ask him if he’ll be back, but your gut warns that that sounds too desperate, so instead, you nod once.

“Thanks,” you start, trying to find the strength in your voice. “I had a really good time. My door is uh, always open.”

“Good t’ know, cher.” He says. He sounds genuine, but he’s still leaving. Every bone in your body is screaming for him to stay. He makes his way over to you, wordlessly, and wraps his arm around your waist. His lips find yours, and he tips you backwards slightly as he kisses you. The way he tastes you feels like he’s trying to stain his own mouth with your essence, to remember it later. When he breaks off and straightens you back up, you let out a pathetic little cry that you know he hears. You bring your fingers to your mouth, stroking your bottom lip softly.

And with that, he opens your door, slips out and shuts it behind him, but not before casting one last look at you, standing there in a sheet that he fucked your brains out on.

To the closed door, you whisper: “I… think I love you.”

He doesn’t hear it and maybe that’s for the best.

#Gambit #Remy Lebeau #channing tatum #Deadpool and Wolverine Gambit #channing tatum gambit #Gambit x reader #gambit x you #remy lebeau x reader #remy lebeau x you #female reader #Deadpool and Wolverine #Deadpool 3 #x reader fics #myfics

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velvet4510 · 6 months ago

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Instead of yet another stupid apocalypse, you know what the final “battle” of Season 4 actually should’ve been?

The Umbrellas (including Ben) vs. Reginald.

No Cleanse.

No Keepers.

No durango.

NO REGINALD REDEMPTION.

None of that nonsense.

We should’ve had all of the Reginalds merge. So in the end, he remembers all the events of the previous seasons. Including the original timeline. He is the Reginald who raised and tormented and abused the Umbrellas.

The same should’ve happened to Ben; the Umbrella and Sparrow versions merge, and he has the memories of both versions. He is the Ben they once lost.

We should’ve learned the full extent of Reginald’s alien powers. It should’ve turned out that he is in fact a one-man army when he wants to be.

We should’ve seen Reginald’s plan backfire - the “tools” that he created in a selfish plot to get his wife back rebel and take back their autonomy from him. All his years of child abuse come back to haunt him as he is given no choice but to acknowledge that the Umbrellas are actual people, that they have found the real meaning of love in each other and his efforts to control them have truly failed. That there is more to these people than his own selfishness. All of his teachings come back to haunt him as their powers are used against him.

We should’ve had the siblings - plus Lila since she’s part of the family and also hates the man who abused her beloved Diego - finally face off against Sir Reginald Hargreeves. Both a physical and verbal battle.

Luther uses his super strength. Diego uses his trajectory tricks. Allison uses her rumoring for mental torment. Klaus conjures ghosts as backup. Viktor’s energy blasts bring Reginald’s worst fears to life. Five’s teleporting and time manipulation make their victory inevitable. Lila’s mirroring only doubles the effects.

And, through teamwork, the family win the battle and kill Reginald. (In Guardians of the Galaxy-type fashion.)

Together, the traumatized children finally conquer their abuser together.

Maybe they kill Abigail too, or maybe she sides with them and expresses disapproval at the atrocities that Reginald committed because of her.

Maybe Reginald is holding Sloane prisoner on the moon in Abigail’s place, and the final battle also operates as her rescue.

But definitely, the climax needed to be a confrontation between Reginald and his “marigold” children.

At least that would’ve been an actual emotional payoff to the 3 seasons of buildup and character development.

#the umbrella academy s4 #the umbrella academy #tua s4 rewrite #tua s4 #tua #reginald hargreeves #luther hargreeves #diego hargreeves #allison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #five hargreeves #ben hargreeves #viktor hargreeves #lila pitts #sloane hargreeves #sir reginald hargreeves #abigail hargreeves #tua s4 spoilers

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screwitbaby · 2 months ago

Text

cybergirl

hamzahthefantastic x reader (fic)

2.0

summary: you’re a cam girl and you have more power over hamzah’s horny ass than you can even comprehend.

contains: smut with plot ofc

w/c: 2.7k-ish

a/n: yall convinced me. can i even call this a oneshot anymore? anyway enjoy <3

The clock was ticking. Hamzah's eyes couldn't stay in one place. He knew he was obsessed with you—he couldn't even jerk off to random porn anymore, only you could keep him hard—but the extent of his infatuation was starting to take a toll on his daily life. Recording gaming videos and podcasts with Martin felt like such a chore when all he could think about was your plush thighs wrapped around his head or your face pressed into his pillows, ass up.

It was like a parasite had taken over and he was merely a host body for something sinister that was controlling his every move. He wasn't even sure if he hated it. It was one of the only things bringing him unadulterated joy as of recent. His wallet certainly hated him for it, though.

His laptop was already on and set in place. You were about to start your weekly scheduled live broadcast and he was sat in bed, waiting obediently for your arrival. The thought of creepy, old retirees with beer guts and wives also waiting for you made his skin crawl. His brain conjured up torturous scenes of you on call with them, talking to them the same way you spoke to him. Charming them with your promising words and perfect tits. No, he was sure he was special. Right?

He slapped his cheeks lightly, trying to rid the thoughts from poisoning his mind. It didn't matter. He knew what he was getting into the moment he paid for that first private meeting. He just had to suck it up and have you in any way he could.

Your panties were laid out next to him, almost tricking him into believing you were there in the room with him at one point or another. When he came home from the studio a week ago and saw a package with cursive writing and glittery gift wrap sitting at his doorstep, he was tempted to banish Martin from the building as soon as he'd welcomed him. When Martin then asked him what was in the box as he was taking it up to his room, he froze. His lies about it being an eBay order were almost as easy to see as the half-chub rising beneath his sweatpants. Luckily, Mandy called her boyfriend within the hour and he left soon thereafter without bothering to question his best friend's strange behavior.

It was pathetic, the way he locked the door to his room and shut his blinds just to open a parcel. He felt like he was living with his family again, trying to minimize any possible chances that they'd walk in on him with his dick in his hand. But he was completely alone then, and as he carefully tore the wrapping to preserve your penmanship of his name on the shipping label, his heart was beating out of his chest. Swathed in pink tissue paper lay his only worldly evidence that you were real, not just a couple of pixels on his screen.

Your lilac, lacy, worn panties.

For the next few days, Hamzah didn't leave home. He sniffed, he rubbed, he moaned and groaned. And he was loud. Any sense of shame left him as soon as he came the first time. He was sure he'd pass out from the pleasure at some point, but it was like each climax recharged him with the power to go twice as hard. It took a while for him to get himself together. It took no time at all for him to tune in to your show.

So, here he was, anxiously staring at the chat room full of digital degenerates and convincing himself he wasn't cut from the same cloth. He was different. He respected you. He liked you for more than just your perfect tits, peachy ass, lustrous hair, smooth skin, wet pu—

Then, the camera turned on. The chat started going at a hundred miles per hour. The donations began to flow in. And all you had done was smile.

"Hi, everybody," you giggled, eyes scanning the screen as you waved. "Oh, wow! Thank you for all the donations! So eager for me."

Hamzah's heart twinged. He didn't want to be reminded that he wasn't the only one. He made a donation of his own as you began reading them out.

"Thank you for the hundred dollars, SuperSpreader77!" you gasped as the notification sounded. You placed your hand on your chest, drawing Hamzah's eyes to the blood-red, satin brassiere that adorned it. "I'll be sure to make it up to you."

You winked and bit your lip. Hamzah swore he could've melted right there. The damp spot on the front of his boxers stuck out sorely, his cock aching for a release that would certainly make him see stars.

"I missed you all so much." You pouted.

And just like that, his elation was cut short by your acknowledgment of the others.

The live lasted near an hour as you touched yourself and stared into the camera and teased and did all the right things to get Hamzah wrapped even tighter around your finger. Knowing he was there after his donation made you slightly more daring than usual. You spanked yourself with a frilly paddle until your ass was stinging and bruised—a little taste of what was to come. You weren't lying about making it up to him later.

By the end, Hamzah was sure his balls were really going to turn blue. He did touch himself—how could he not?—but he knew nothing would be better than to finish with you, one on one. So he edged closer and closer to the point of no return, denying himself of his orgasm as he rutted into his fist, wishing it was your mouth or your cunt. He watched with impressive self control as you came all over your own fingers, splayed across your mattress like a priceless painting that could only be rightfully witnessed in a museum.

You ended the live by blowing a kiss and Hamzah rushed to open the Zoom app. This time, you joined within a few minutes, still topless but with your thong back on. Hamzah wasn't sure if he was sad to see you covered up or more excited that he'd get to see it get pulled off again.

"Hi, angel," you greeted. Your eyes twinkled, face flushed and lips bitten red from your previous escapade. "I missed you the most."

Hamzah groaned like the words physically wounded him.

"You're driving me insane," he said.

His hand traveled down to his navel, but before he could grab himself, you spoke.

"Ah, ah," you tutted, stopping him in his tracks. "Did you get my little gift?"

"Yes." He nodded keenly, grasping the lace from beside him and running it down his torso until he draped it over his throbbing cock.

"Do I even want to know what you've done with it?" you asked, tilting your head to the side.

"The things I wish I could do to you," Hamzah answered honestly.

He pinched the lace between his fingers and ghosted the cloth across himself, sharply inhaling at the sensation. You bit your lip and Hamzah felt himself twitch. With the way you had soaked through your thong, you wondered if he'd want this pair, too.

"Did you enjoy my show?" you asked despite knowing the answer. "Enjoy yourself?"

"I waited for you," Hamzah said. "I wanted you. Alone."

"Are you hurting? Aching for me?"

"I want you so bad. You have no idea."

"I don't?"

Hamzah shook his head.

"Show me. Show me how you used those panties."

He immediately obliged. He began by gripping his shaft, spreading the precum from his tip downward. He moved your panties to encircle his cock, dragging against his balls deliciously as he pumped himself. His head fell back, already so close that he could feel his heartbeat drumming in his ears. You watched him hungrily.

"Gonna cum already?" You licked your lips, leaving them glossy. "Let me hear you, angel."

A loud moan tumbled from his lips, a sense of abandon washing through him as he pleasured himself in front of you. You observed the way the vein in his neck popped similarly to the ones on his cock and imagined how they'd taste, how they'd feel against your tongue. You began touching yourself, swirling your fingers around your swollen clit.

"I-I can't hold—c-can I?" he stuttered out, chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Do it, Hamzah. Ruin my panties."

You lay flat on your back, neck craned to watch the screen as his movements grew fervent. You tried to match his pace, tried to fuck your fingers into your pussy as he bucked his hips, tried to picture it was him inside of you. He spilled into his hand, shouting your name over and over until his voice grew scratchy and he had released every last drop all over himself and the fabric. He hadn't even opened his eyes before he was hard again. You were the only Viagra he'd ever need.

"Wanna see you," he panted, attempting in vain to catch his breath.

He ran his thumb over his tip and shivered. You leapt from bed to pull your thong off and tossed it towards the camera playfully. When you bent over your desk, his eyes widened. The marks on your ass were red and angry, slightly raised in the shape of the paddle. He didn't know he had it in him, but he genuinely growled.

"Fuck me..." He gripped himself tighter, his eyes nearly rolling back into his head from how sensitive he was.

You reached into one of the drawers and slowly pulled a toy out from the back. Hamzah was pleased to see the dildo was of similar size to him. You knew it would never compare to the real thing, but it'd have to do. You spat onto it, slapping it against your sore ass a couple times and jumping at the sting. Hamzah fell into a trance, unable to do anything but moan as he watched you run the head against your dripping folds before pressing in.

You gasped, keeling over the desk as your wetness enveloped the entirety of the silicone. The feeling of every inch stretching you had you clamping around it as your body adjusted to the intrusion. You drew it out until just the tip was still inside. Then, all at once, you drove it back in with a cry.

"Hamzah!" you whimpered, head lolling to the side. "I-I'm—"

"You're doing so good, baby." He wrapped your panties around the base of his cock, intensifying his satisfaction as the fabric cinched around him. "Fuck yourself. Hard."

His hoarse voice combined with the pleasure passing through you made your legs shake. You could barely even hold yourself up. Your chest pressed against the cold wood and your nipples grazed the surface, rendering you speechless. Hamzah watched as you flicked your wrist as fast as you could and the dildo disappeared into you. You were in the clouds, gripping the edge of the desk with your other hand until your knuckles turned white.

"Shit, s-so fuckin’ pretty," Hamzah groaned.

You couldn't even see straight anymore, but you knew him well enough to know he was closing in on his second orgasm of the night. The carnal sounds of the both of you reverberated through your rooms, a mess of moans and wet slapping. When you screwed your eyes shut tight enough, it was almost as if you were there together.

"Cum f'me, baby," Hamzah grunted out, "only me."

"Only you, angel," you whined, your mouth staying ajar as you felt your stomach clenching and your toes curling.

Broken moans toppled from your lips. Any words said were inaudible, a jumble of sweet nothings as the two of you came in unison. Your wrist was cramping and you could feel your arousal making a mess all over your legs, but you couldn't bare to stop your movements. Pure bliss coursed through your veins and Hamzah strained to watch the way your orgasm turned your body into a shaking heap atop your desk. He came so hard his vision blacked out for a moment and he huffed heavy breaths until his body was no longer tensed from head to toe.

You eventually released the dildo from your grasp and let it fall to the floor, tracing your fingers over your wetness then to your clit. Even a faint touch sent a shock through you. You giggled but it came out as a shaky sigh.

"God, baby," Hamzah murmured, unraveling your panties from his dick and sitting up to pull his laptop closer. "You okay?"

"Hmm," you hummed in your state of euphoria. You attempted to stand straight but to no avail, gripping the sides of the desk as you nearly toppled over with another giggle. "'M fine."

"Fuck," Hamzah laughed quietly, feeling the effects of his own exhaustion. "That good?"

"Mhm," you moaned, nodding.

When you turned, you wobbled on your feet for a couple steps before falling to your knees in front of the bed. You brought your laptop to the edge and smiled, wiping a tear from your eye.

"So good."

Hamzah grinned, leaning against the wall as his breathing slowly returned to a normal pace. He was sticky and slightly sore, but he couldn't even begin to imagine what you were feeling in that moment.

"How do you do this for work?" he said, bemused. "I'm destroyed."

He reached up to run his fingers through his curls, but decided against it once he felt the moisture coated between them.

"I was thinking of you during the live."

You crossed your arms on the bed, resting your cheek on your forearm as you stared at his figure through the screen. He opened his mouth and closed it a couple times, failing to find his words. You giggled again, completely spent.

"Why are you so far?"

He knew there was no real answer to his question, but he couldn't help but wonder out loud. How was it that the girl of his dreams was so out of his reach? Did he do something in a past life to deserve this fate? The longer he thought about it, the worse he felt.

"Maybe it's for the best," you offered, eyes closed. "Maybe you'd get sick of me IRL."

He contemplated the sentiment for a moment. No, there's no way. He could never get sick of your sweet voice; surely it'd be impossible.

"First of all, 'IRL'? Really?" he teased. "And who knows. Maybe I could fly you out."

"Don't be silly," you yawned, sitting back on your haunches to stretch.

"Fine," he said, rolling his eyes. "I already paid for your panties. What makes you think I wouldn't pay for the ticket to get the rest of you here?"

"Ridiculous."

You just couldn't make sense of it. A boy flying you out while knowing close to nothing about you. Sure, you made each other feel good, but there's a big difference between seeing someone for an hour or two weekly and seeing them everyday with no where else to go. Such an absolute scared you. Besides, a girl like you would never dare to have such big dreams of a fairytale ending.

"My offer still stands." Hamzah crossed his arms.

"What is it with you and your offers?"

"Never hurt before."

He grabbed the panties from beside him and held it up to the camera like it was evidence of his claim. The two of you laughed at the white stains that now adorned it.

"You're disgusting."

"You love it."

You shook your head, not even refuting his words. You couldn't ignore the jolt that surged through your heart.

"Really, you should consider it," he said with a shrug.

"No promises," you said. "Goodnight, angel."

You subsequently signed off, leaving Hamzah with a longing in his chest that kept him up that night and invaded his dreams when he managed to drift off in the early hours of the morning.

a/n: if u ask for part 3 i may just scream. idk i kinda like having them yearn for each other. thoughts? feelings? concerns? hate? leave it in the replies!

#hamzahthefantastic #slushy noobz #hamzah fic #hamzah x reader #slushy virus #hamzahsmut #hamzah fluff #hamzah imagines #hamzah x y/n #martin and hamzah #hamzahthefanatasticxreader #hamzah angst

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osamucide · 7 months ago

Text

gladly

gladly i’ll burn up for you if you burn up for me

NSFW—MINORS DNI

wc: 1.2k

cw: dazai x gn!reader, explicit sexual content, no plot just horny and fluffy, established relationship, somno(?)(sleepy, anyway), handjob, grinding, nipple play, use of “baby,” “darling,” pillow princess dazai my most beloved

reid: this position bruh i’m going to go so feral that i eat my own hand. not the smut i intended to publish next but apparently the smut i needed to publish next. a little something short while i put off a longer dazai smut. i <3 soft lazy dazai enjoy

. . . .ᐟ

You know mornings like this should be rarer than they are.

His charming insistence, however muted by his sleep-addled laziness, hardly ever fails on you. In fact, it all might make him more tempting—that, the warmth of newly recharged bodies, the honey behind his drooping eyelids, the wandering of his hands and rolling of his hips against yours that feels so sweetly and foreignly unmapped and confused, yes, it’s equal parts all those things and you’re sure some others that you can’t conjure up into words through your early-hour fog. Yes, very few things Osamu ever does without meticulous planning, but he does let a certain vulnerability crack through on mornings like this, a vulnerability that’s evident in between his parting lips and the soft, unpracticed whines that live and die there. And yes, you’re one of the primary reasons—if not the primary reason—Osamu’s so often late to show up to work, but it’s difficult for you to feel guilty when your senses find their way back to the waking realm amongst his pretty sounds rumbling from his chest into your ear, his back arching back against your touch, and his soft brown hair splayed around his head like a halo.

The rational side of you should be dragging your dear boyfriend up and out of bed but it appears to still be asleep as you let your fingertips creep beneath his waistband. You shut the morning light out in favor of pressing your eyes beneath his collarbone; your thumb finds his tip, and if you weren't on the threshold of consciousness you would let out a giggle at the way his breath catches. You can feel Osamu's fingers curling tenderly around your wrist—a silent plea for you to keep going, touch him more, and you'll oblige, but you have to kiss the triangle of his shoulder first, so you do; your tongue deftly finds his nipple, and he's so pliant half-beneath you that you can slot his thigh between both of your own—it’s all you'll need, you can tell, as his head dips to the side on the pillow to catch a half-lidded glimpse of you working him into a mess so early and so easily. He'll return the favor without even trying, just by laying there and letting you move the way you do; he's so gorgeous all bleary from slumber, palming your lower back to guide you against him. You move. You move, looking up at him like he’s an angel, and his vision melts to warm darkness again. It's all he'll need, too.

You’d think he was falling back asleep if it wasn’t for the slow and steady bucking of his hips up into your hand. Winding your fingers around his base elicits a whine from his diaphragm—one you can hear against him as your own eyes roll shut and your tongue continues to idle. It’s all so natural, the way you stroke him, lick him, grind on him, that you feel yourself slipping back into unconsciousness. It’s his noises that you hang on for.

He’s far from alert, but words tumble out in whispers.

“Baby, it feels so good, don’t stop…”

You hum, more in response to his mumblings and less from the friction you create against his thigh; nonetheless, you’re sensitive, and as you keep rhythm along his cock he flexes against you and the way that you feel, splitting the line of slumber and wakefulness and writhing hotly against your lover, is divine.

You wish you could live in this kind of moment for the rest of your life. Too often you find yourself overwhelmed; regrettably and even more often you find Osamu overwhelmed. It’s never so obvious to anyone as it is to you, so he doesn’t tend to let on to anyone but you, and maybe that’s why you keep things like this sacred, because for once he doesn’t seem to be thinking, analyzing, inquiring, even how he does when you regularly have sex—forever the pleaser, he’s always looking to you with eyes asking questions like is it enough? Even outside of sex, god, in every aspect—you know he never stops wondering the same thing about himself: is it enough? Does it feel good? Am I enough? And the answer you give him is always a resounding yes, and you want so badly for him to believe you because he’s just as much your angel as you are his. You hope that mornings like this communicate it louder than your reassurances can. Your pleasure—in everything, in life—is so vividly amplified by his wellness, his peace, his own pleasure. You love him so deeply. He loves you like a stray cat finally living in comfort. You’ll never let a morning like this slip.

“Right there, right there,” he encourages as you squeeze just below his tip; his head lolls from side to side almost as if he’s dreaming (sometimes he thinks he is with you) and you track his movements through your own bliss, dragging your hips back and forth desperately as you double down on the spot that forces full-bodied moans from his pretty mouth. He’s close, he begs you; you’re frantic on his thigh, feeling yourself cum in a haze that has him tensing—you grind harder, harder, harder, sighing out his name until you’re spent so you can prop yourself up on your elbow to watch his face in the thickly-curtained sunlight.

“Oh, fuck, fuck— fuhhh— ah, uh-huh, ah—”

His eyes flicker open to catch your tired smile and he’s cumming—his grip on your ass is the only thing grounding him as his jaw falls slack, your lashes flutter in pure satisfaction, and he twitches, sent to the clouds by his beloved who looks at him with such adoration that he catches himself believing for a second that he must be beautiful; you work incredible magic on him. His brain and his body, both so used to neglect and abuse, finally feel like fruitful grounds for love. He finally feels whole as his cum drips down your fingers.

It is then that you do giggle and lean down to place a quick kiss to his nipple; he’s breathless, pink in the face, and you know you couldn’t love him more, and yet you will as each second passes.

Osamu brings his hand up to your hair, and your next kiss lands on his lips as he wills you down. It’s tender and lasts much longer than expected—you almost start your hips against him again, but the snoozed alarm at your bedside rings for the fourth time. You glance over. He was supposed to be out the door five minutes ago.

“Oh, shut it off,” he groans resentfully.

“As if.” You press one more kiss to his cheek before you unpeel yourself from him and punch the ringer into silence. “I’ll put coffee on.”

“Shower with me before I go, please.” He rubs his eyes and sits up. You strip out of your sticky shorts.

“Of course, darling.”

You pad to the kitchen. He watches you go with a warmth he didn’t know himself to be capable of.

And a smirk.

Maybe he can talk you into one more round in the bathroom.

#with love—reid #osamu dazai x reader #dazai x reader #bsd x reader #bsd smut #dazai smut #nnnsfw.ᐟ

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catsteeth · 29 days ago

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Turn Your Cloak - Pt. 3 (parts 1 and 2) FINALE

Benjicot/Davos Blackwood x reader

+:✿ Request ✿:+

Request: “Humbly requesting Benjicot and Velaryon Fem Reader. Benjicot, ever the romantic, manages to attack and 💀 Aemond and as a gift, he brings reader (and by extension, rhaenyra and Jace) his head. Honestly I just need to see Benjicot turning into Bloody Ben and Reader matching his freak. Feel free to add whatever else you want (smut is welcomed but not required)” CW: MDNI, drunk sex, p in v sex, unprotected, afab reader, alcohol consumption, mention of arranged marriage, canon typical violence, mention of death, war. A/N: You said smut welcomed and I threw a welcome home party.

Word Count: 11K

The threat of war loomed closer, and the tension in the air grew more and more with each passing day.

You grew so anxious you could not sit still. Pacing the floors of your chamber all day and night long.

You tried your hardest to find a solution that somehow no one had thought of yet. Perhaps if you thought long enough on it you’d find it. But of course, you couldn’t. The only solution you could find, and all the members of your mother's council could conjure was one.

War.

In a council meeting many months ago, you sat beside your betrothed as your mother heard the advice of the lords within her cabinet.

Lord Corlys had thought of a plan. Daemon would set out on Caraxes toward Harrenhal. His departure would be publicly announced to scatter all squatters who remained there during his absence. Aemond wanted Daemon dead more than any other of the Blacks. Should Daemon fall dead, all the lords who backed Rheanyra would turn their cloaks out of fear. So Lord Corlys would give Aemond the opportunity he wanted. But the real plot would be that Lord Corlys would lead a troop of men from Dragonstone to Harrenhall in secret as battles raged on in surrounding territories.

But they would not waste their occupation of the Riverlands. Whilst they would have men near the surrounding forestation of Harrenhal, they would have their troops scatter the Riverlands, while leaving Harrenhal seemingly unoccupied. They would wage brutal and vengeful battles across the Riverlands whilst they waited for any sign of Vhagar near Harrenhal.

Once Vhagar was seen, the troop would take advantage of the tree's coverage and use hooks, arrows, weighted nets, and catapults to bring the beast down. Reinforcement from Hugh and Ulf would be used to aid in the killing of Vhagar. Once it was done, Aemond would be executed for his crimes.

Without Vhagar and the Prince Consort, the Greens would be lost. King’s Landing and the realm would be in the hands of the rightful Queen Rheanyra.

The council decided it was their best option.

You wanted to volunteer your effort, volunteer your dragon. But, you remembered how Benjicot got onto his knees and begged you to simply consider otherwise. If he begged you to simply consider it, you didn’t want to know how he would react if you did enter battle. So you sat silently in the council chamber. Simply acknowledging that the plan was a good one and the best one you had.

So, your grandfather began gathering his best men for the troop. Many were of his own ship crew, many rivermen, many northern. But the one man who you cared for the most was Benjicot. He volunteered almost immediately once he had the chance to.

You weren’t thrilled with his choice you were nearly devastated. But, you remembered what he said to you.

“I’ll go to war. Kill every green I see. I’ll roar and rampage in the name of your revenge.” His eyes were wide, he was desperate, “I’ll bring Kings Landing to your feet.” He vowed to you, “I’ll never command you to do anything, never forbid you to do anything. I’ll give you my own sword to ride your beast into battle. But, I keep thinking of it. Being in battle and looking up to see you overhead on your beast. I am overcome with pride and admiration but should the greens shoot you down, or Vhagar prevails- I have to beg you selfishly. You’re the only woman I want, the only one I’ve ever loved, the only one I’ll ever love. If you are harmed, or worse I will burn all of Westeros to its soil and me with it.”

You knew this was necessary for him. To protect you, to attempt to heal you. This was what he wanted, what he needed.

So reluctantly you sent him off to battle with a lock of your hair, your favor, and a kiss.

He was marching toward arrows, swords, blood, and fire and yet he was the happiest he’d ever been. He was not nervous, for he knew if he kept you in his heart he would prevail.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

The days since Ben had left were long and torturous. Your only solace was his letters that he sent to you.

His letters were romantic and gentle. Each would detail little of the war, he didn’t want you to know all that he was doing. He feared it would scare you. But you found out through the reports of the troop's progression through the Riverlands. A complete opposite of his own letters.

Benjicot surprised everyone in the troop, especially your Grandsire. He wrote to your mother and her council of his brutality. The sounds of Ben’s war cry was comparable to a hysterical laugh. One that struck fear in his enemy. It was clear he had no fear in him as his unpredictable and brutal fighting. He alone had more confirmed deaths than the rest of his troop combined. He was often covered in a mixture of dry and fresh blood. His sword and his body never tired of bloodshed.

It was only in one letter that he did hint at his bloodlust. The last letter he wrote to you.

𝕸𝖞 𝕱𝖎𝖗𝖊,

𝕴 𝖆𝖒 𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖛𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖋𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖆𝖘 𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖉 𝖆𝖘 𝕴 𝖈𝖆𝖓. 𝕴 𝖆𝖒 𝖘𝖔𝖗𝖗𝖞 𝕴 𝖉𝖎𝖉 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖜𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝖘𝖔𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖗, 𝕴 𝖉𝖔 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖜𝖎𝖘𝖍 𝖙𝖔 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖗𝖞 𝖞𝖔𝖚. 𝕭𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖊𝖛𝖊 𝖒𝖊, 𝕴 𝖜𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖞 𝖒𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝕴 𝖈𝖆𝖓. 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖊𝖓 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖍𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖙𝖆𝖐𝖊𝖓 𝖙𝖔 𝖈𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖒𝖊 “𝕭𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞 𝕭𝖊𝖓”. 𝕴𝖙 𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖐𝖊𝖘 𝖋𝖊𝖆𝖗 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕲𝖗𝖊𝖊𝖓𝖘 𝕴 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖗. 𝕿𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍 𝕴 𝖍𝖔𝖕𝖊 𝖎𝖙 𝖉𝖔𝖊𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖋𝖊𝖆𝖗 𝖎𝖓 𝖞𝖔𝖚. 𝕴 𝖆𝖒 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖒𝖆𝖉, 𝕴 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖒𝖎𝖘𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚. 𝕾𝖎𝖒𝖕𝖑𝖞 𝕴 𝖆𝖒 𝖚𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖑𝖑 𝖔𝖋 𝖜𝖍𝖎𝖈𝖍 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖍𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖈𝖆𝖘𝖙 𝖚𝖕𝖔𝖓 𝖒𝖊. 𝖀𝖓𝖐𝖓𝖔𝖜𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖑𝖞 𝖔𝖗 𝖓𝖔𝖙, 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖍𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉 𝖒𝖞 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖉 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖒𝖞 𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘.

𝕸𝖞 𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖘 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖊𝖉 𝖇𝖞 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖆𝖑𝖔𝖓𝖊. 𝖂𝖍𝖊𝖓 𝕴 𝖆𝖒 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖌𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖔 𝖇𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖑𝖊 𝕴 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖐 𝖔𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖊𝖗. 𝖂𝖍𝖊𝖓 𝕴 𝖈𝖚𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍 𝖌𝖗𝖊𝖊𝖓𝖘 𝕴 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖐 𝖔𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖆𝖈𝖍𝖊. 𝕴 𝖐𝖓𝖔𝖜 𝖓𝖔 𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖍𝖔𝖜 𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖞 𝖒𝖊𝖓 𝕴 𝖐𝖎𝖑𝖑, 𝖔𝖗 𝖍𝖔𝖜 𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖞 𝖌𝖗𝖊𝖊𝖓𝖘 𝕴 𝖘𝖑𝖆𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖊𝖗, 𝕴 𝖈𝖆𝖓𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖙𝖆𝖐𝖊 𝖎𝖙 𝖆𝖜𝖆𝖞, 𝖇𝖚𝖙 𝕴 𝖍𝖔𝖕𝖊 𝕴 𝖈𝖆𝖓 𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖊 𝖎𝖙. 𝕴𝖋 𝖓𝖔𝖙, 𝖎𝖙 𝖜𝖆𝖘 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖍 𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌.

𝖂𝖍𝖊𝖓 𝕴 𝖆𝖒 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖍𝖔𝖑𝖉𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖆 𝖘𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖎𝖓 𝖒𝖞 𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕴 𝖆𝖒 𝖑𝖞𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖔𝖓 𝖆 𝖈𝖔𝖙 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖘 𝖜𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖙𝖔 𝖞𝖔𝖚. 𝕬𝖓𝖉 𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖓 𝕴 𝖆𝖒 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖜𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖙𝖔 𝖞𝖔𝖚, 𝕴 𝖉𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖒 𝖔𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚. 𝕯𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖔𝖋 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖞 𝖒𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝕴 𝖍𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖞𝖔𝖚. 𝕴𝖙 𝖍𝖆𝖘 𝖇𝖊𝖊𝖓 𝖑𝖔𝖓𝖌, 𝖇𝖚𝖙 𝕴 𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖐 𝖔𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖊𝖞𝖊𝖘. 𝕴 𝖈𝖆𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖐 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖗 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖇𝖊𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖞 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖒. 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖆𝖘𝖙 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖘 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖘𝖕𝖔𝖐𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖒𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖊𝖈𝖍𝖔 𝖎𝖓 𝖒𝖞 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖉. 𝕴 𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖑𝖞 𝖘𝖕𝖔𝖐𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖆𝖓𝖞𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝖆𝖙 𝖈𝖆𝖒𝖕 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖘𝖙 𝖋𝖊𝖜 𝖉𝖆𝖞𝖘 𝖙𝖔 𝖇𝖊 𝖘𝖚𝖗𝖊 𝕴 𝖉𝖎𝖉 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖉𝖎𝖑𝖚𝖙𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖘 𝖎𝖓 𝖒𝖞 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖉.

𝕴 𝖐𝖓𝖔𝖜 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖉𝖔 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖐 𝖔𝖋 𝖎𝖙, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝕴 𝖆𝖘𝖘𝖚𝖗𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝕴 𝖉𝖔 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖗𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖍 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖎𝖉𝖊𝖆 𝖊𝖎𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗. 𝕭𝖚𝖙 𝕴 𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖙𝖔 𝖐𝖓𝖔𝖜 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝕴𝖋 𝕴 𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝖉𝖎𝖊, 𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍 𝖜𝖊’𝖛𝖊 𝖒𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖑𝖞 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖆 𝖒𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖎𝖓 𝖑𝖎𝖋𝖊 𝖙𝖔𝖌𝖊𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗, 𝖎𝖙 𝖜𝖆𝖘 𝖆 𝖒𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖍 𝖆 𝖑𝖎𝖋𝖊𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊. 𝕴𝖋 𝕴 𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝖉𝖎𝖊, 𝖐𝖓𝖔𝖜 𝕴 𝖉𝖎𝖊𝖉 𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖕𝖎𝖑𝖞 𝖋𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖉, 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖛𝖊𝖓𝖌𝖊𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖊, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖉.

𝕬𝖛𝖞 𝖏𝖔𝖗𝖗ā𝖊𝖑𝖆𝖓 (I love you)

𝖄𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖘 𝕺𝖓𝖑𝖞 & 𝕱𝖔𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗,

𝕭𝖊𝖓𝖏𝖎𝖈𝖔𝖙 𝕭𝖑𝖆𝖈𝖐𝖜𝖔𝖔𝖉

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

His words haunted you. His devotion touched you but his admission of his mortality shook you.

Since he had left things at Dragonstone became more and more complicated. The dragon seeds had made off with Seasmoke and Vermithor. Leaving your plan in a compromising position. As you sat at your mother's council table you ignored the words of the lords who sat around it with you. You toyed with your fingers as you were lost in thought of Ben. You interrupted whatever conversation was being had as you asked, “Any news of the Lord Corlys’s men?” You asked finally bringing your attention back to the council, “They’ve been making progress toward Harenhall, has there been any news in regards to Vhagar?” You clarified.

Your mother looked at you with sympathetic eyes and nodded to the maester. The maester looked to you, “Nothing concrete, Princess.” He said with a shake of his head.

“Rumors then?” You said picking apart his words confidently.

“Plenty.” He nodded, “Though it is not wise to heed to them.”

Before he could continue to speak of something else, you spoke again, “I am too young to be wise.”

The maester silently debated whether he should or should not tell you the truth. “Some of the men rumored it… Vhagar has been seen near Harenhall.”

Your eyes widened in shock. “This seems like a rumor to heed mind to!” You said as you sat up in your seat.

Your mother raised a hand to you to calm you, “Lord Corlys has not seen it. Nor has Benjicot, or I suspect he would have written such news to you.”

“Some soldiers report seeing merely an end of a tail, or the smell of dragon. The sleep-deprived and frightened mind can think up such things.” The maester said in an attempt to ease your mind though it did the opposite.

You scoffed, “Or perhaps these men have seen such things, perhaps they have smelt dragon.”

“We know nothing yet.” Your mother said dismissively. You knew she was blinded by her want to protect you and Jacaerys. But you also knew you were now their last hope at taking on Vhagar and preserving your plan.

“And yet we have too much to risk. Daemon’s dragon is just one.” You said nearly pleading for her to open her eyes, “You must let me ride out Mother.”

“No.” She said quickly with a dismissive shake of her head.

“Mother!” You nearly shouted, regaining her attention and silencing the rest of the men at that table. “We are out of options.” You said standing, “Send me to Daemon. Vaghar cannot take two dragons at once.” You placed your hands on the table and leaned towards her, “He has taken my brother, my grandmother, I will not let him take my husband.” You shook your head slowly and maintained your eye contact with her. “I won’t let him take victory.”

Rheanyra felt her eyes tearing up. She knew you were right but she couldn’t allow herself to admit it. “What then? You’ll fly out on Silverwing and face Vhagar as Arrax did?”

“Yes.” You nodded confidently, “Lucerys was not ready. Aemond took advantage of his youth and inexperience.” You looked at her with confident and strong eyes, “I am ready.” You said with a nod, “Without Vhagar, the Greens are lost. You cannot afford to lose Caraxies.” A silence hung in the air for a nearly uncomfortable time. The lords at the table did not dare offer their advice in either direction. They knew better than to come between a mother and daughter dragon. Soon, reluctantly and hesitantly Rhaenyra nodded though she immediately regretted it. “I’ll show you what loyalty looks like.” You said as you pushed yourself away from the table and marched out of the chamber doors.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

Thousands of miles away, Benjicot sat at a table in a tavern within the Riverlands. He wrote on a piece of parchment, being sure to keep his words hidden from the drunken men around him. He was writing to you, of course.

“Oi, Bloody Ben!” A rowdy soldier called out toward Ben.

Ben folded the paper and shoved it into his shirt. He looked toward the man at the bar, “Aye?”

The man approached him with two women in his arms, “I’m paying,” He said with a drunken smile, “What say you? Which lass you take?” He asked as he looked over at the women with a lustful grin.

Ben huffed, “Fuck you.” He said with a tired scowl.

The man looked at Ben with an angry gaze, “The fucks your problem-”

Before the man could finish the strong hand of Lord Corlys took hold of the man’s shoulder. “The Lord of Ravenhall is a loyal man.” He said as he pushed the man away with a single shove. Lord Corlys looked toward Ben, “I respect that.” He then looked toward the barkeep “A round of brown ale for me and the Blackwood.” He commanded and the barkeep nodded.

Ben stood out of respect, “Lord Corlys-”

Lord Corlys did not pay attention to this, he simply raised a hand for Ben to sit as he sat across from him. “My granddaughter is restless in Dragonstone,” Ben said, immediately and completely consumed by his words. He had heard nothing of how you were. Only from the letters that you sent and he knew you would not tell him all of your worries. “She wonders and paces the halls waiting for ravens from you.”

Ben sighed with heartache, “I write every moment I am granted.” He wished he could have done more. He looked up to Lord Corlys, “Is she safe?” He asked with desperation.

“Of course.” He said quickly, “She worries for you endlessly.” He said as the ale was sat on their table and he began to drink.

“I wish she wouldn’t,” Ben said shaking his head, ignoring the ale.

“She has requested to ride out on Silverwing to relieve our troop's efforts,” Corlys said, somewhat curious as to how Ben would respond. Ben’s eyes widened for a moment as he looked at Corlys. “How does that make you feel?” He asked bringing the cup of ale back to his lips.

Ben thought for a moment, “I’ll never prevent her from what she wishes.” He then shook his head, “Though I wish she’d keep safe.”

“As do I,” Corlys said. He could see Ben’s anxiety through his words. “But Silverwing is a large and formidable beast.” He said trying to ease Ben’s anxieties, “Larger than Moon Dancer, Vermax, Syrax, Caraxies, Seasmoke, Maelys-”

“But not larger than Vhagar.” Ben interrupted. He was imagining his worst fears.

Corlys sat his cup down and leaned toward Ben, “Aemond is overly confident in his abilities. He is not as talented a rider as he claims.” Ben looked at Corlys taking in all his words, “Vhagar is too large a beast to hold a true hold of. It fights as an animal does.” He sat back in his seat, “My granddaughter has a true hold of her beast. She is a talented rider, and she is clever. Aemond is hardly clever.” He shook his head, “She will not run into a battle she won’t win simply because hotter blood prevailed over her better judgment.”

Ben sat in silence for a moment, “She’s mentioned nothing of flying out in our letters.” He was trying to brush off Lord Corlys's well-informed words for rumors.

“Well, she’s not been granted permission by the Queen.” Little did he know, you now did. “Though her council has been pushing her to. And armor has been made for her.” Ben felt his heart sink into his stomach, “She didn’t lie to you, just didn’t tell you. She probably wishes for you not to worry.”

Ben’s eyes fell onto the floor, then returned to Corlys. He had the same predatory gaze he had on the battlefield, “I’ll not allow a man to bring harm to her.” He said darkly.

Corlys sighed weakly, he could see the devotion he once had for his late wife in Ben’s eyes. Though he could even see that Ben’s devotion seemed even stronger. He knew if something were to happen to you, not even the Gods would be able to heal whatever damage Ben would bring. “We are men who love our family. But Believe me.” He warned, “You cannot stop what other men wish to do.” Ben knew of what Corlys spoke of. “And you cannot stop your wife from doing what she wishes to do. Our wives were born with fire in their hearts.”

“I know.” Ben nodded, “I love that fire, but it-”

“Infurates you.” Corlys said with experience, “I know.” He nodded with a smile. Finally, Corlys took hold of his cup of ale and stood, “My granddaughter cares for you deeply- loves you. Do not allow me to find you with a whore.” He said as he left Ben at the table.

“Never,” Ben said with a shake of his head.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

Ben continued to worry for you just as you continued to worry for him.

You sent a letter to the Riverlands, to Ben’s encampment. You told him you would be flying out into battle. You had to be honest with him though you worried how it would affect him.

He would have appreciated it, though the letter never arrived.

Since you were enrolled in your mother's war, the battles in the Riverlands grew heavier.

In the Riverlands, Benjicot roared and rampaged with bloody satisfaction. Killing and slaughtering tens, of hundreds, of thousands of men. Laughing and enjoying each fatal swing of his sword.

In Dragonstone, Your armor was being readied, polished, and finely tuned. As you waited for the silversmiths to fit you into your armor, you sought out Silverwing.

The dragon keepers placed an armored saddle and chains onto Silverwing. As they did the weight of what you were flying into sank in. You may never see this home again, you may never fly on Silverwing again.

Your mother's eyes were filled with concern and sorrow. She did not wish to sacrifice another child for the crown. “Māzigon arlī naejot nyke. (Return to me safely.)” She spoke to you softly as she held your face in her hands.

She found the sight of you alone to bring pain. She could not bring herself to stop you, but could not stay any longer. She turned away, painfully and reluctantly.

You turned back to Silverwing. You smiled softly at the silver beast. Even if you died in battle, at least you died with her. Bonded for life and death. You ran your hand along her snout, “Īlon vīlībagon hēnkirī, uēpa riña. (We fight together, old girl.)” You said with a melancholy tone.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

The Greens had brought more and more knights to the Riverlands.

Ben thought he had killed the last of them as he stood up from the battlefield covered in blood. He looked at the horizon as he saw more green banners coming their way. “Green cunts.” Benjicot swore through gritted teeth and lowered harsh eyes as he stared at the coming knights. “Kill them all!” He declared before raising his sword and running head-on into the frye.

As he ran in his sword diced through men like tallow, laughing and roaring all the while.

However, it was becoming clear that their troop was quickly becoming overwhelmed. Ben didn’t let up.

As he saw some black soldiers giving into exhaustion he grabbed hold of their collars pulled them up and threw them back into the battle.

Suddenly Ben’s bloody focus was disturbed. Benjicot could feel a pull of his heart. As though it were directing him to something.

His intuition would be proven correct when he heard a fellow man shout, “Dragon!”

The battle nearly fell silent. Eerie and still, as all looked above and saw the shadow of a large beast above the clouds.

The Greens and Blacks alike waited in anticipation and fear. Would this dragon be salvation or death?

As the dragon began descending towards the battlefield at an alarmingly fast pace, it was clear who it was.

“Silverwing Above!” A knight shouted, “It’s the Princess!” Another shouted.

All ducked and coward as you dived low near the ground, getting as close as you could to the battle while staying airborne.

Ben’s eyes instinctually found you in the sky. And as you flew past his eyes he saw you for a brief moment and yet he captured your image in enormous detail.

You on top of your armored beast flew forward clad in armor that gleamed like forged moonlight. The breastplate was a masterpiece of polished silver and steel, etched with ornate marine patterns and crowned with a three-headed dragon motif that seemed to radiate power and authority.

The pauldrons jutted backward, adorned with razor-edged fins that gave the appearance of wings. Jagged and sharp, they seemed designed to evoke intimidation as much as protection. Underneath your pauldrons and over your shoulders, a cape of fine, interwoven links of chainmail glinted with every movement. Its texture was as fluid as a stream, softening the harsh precision of the armor. The belt at your waist bore a fishtailed dragon.

The helm was a crowning glory, a sculptural marvel with its aerodynamic curves and horn-like crests that rose defiantly from the crown. Its silvered steel sculpted to mirror the fierce elegance of a dragon. Silverwing in fact, the Helmet was made to resemble the beast. The crown of the helm arched upward and backward into two long, curved horns that spiraled back like the crest and horns of the beast, Slender slits for the eyes hid your gaze, imbuing the figure with an aura of mystery and menace. Though your eyes were hardly visible, Ben could have sworn your eyes bore into his soul.

Along the sides of the helmet, delicate filigree hinted at the visage of the predatory beast, its essence captured in cold steel. With an aura of predatory grace. It was not merely a piece of armor—it was a testament to the bond between knight and beast, a symbol of the strength and majesty they shared. It was a statement, you were not a dragon seed but the dragon. The dragon to which each Green should fear.

The Greens scattered as Silverwing's nasally roar crackled through the air like thunder.

“Dracarys!” You commanded confidently.

Silverwing obeyed with no hesitation. Her flames enveloped hundreds of Greens within minutes.

Benjicot stood in amazement as he watched you. His eyes then looked onto the carnage that you brought. The bodies had turned in ash and clay just before his own eyes. Ben let out another laugh as he began swinging his sword again.

“Your princess has joined you in battle!” Ben shouted with pride and adoration as he motivated the men, “Any man who lets her down dies by my hand!” He shouted once more before diving back into the frye.

You heard a familiar screeching roar.

As you looked over your shoulder you saw Caraxiess. With Daemon, your stepfather atop of him.

You knew now was the time to follow your plan.

“Ruaragon. (Hide)” You commanded. Silverwing dodged any of Vhagars attempted assaults as she flew up into the clouds. She took advantage of the thickest clouds, blending into the grey and silvers of them. Silverwing was a talkative dragon. She often purred or chirped as she flew, but never when she hid. It was a trick you had taught Silverwing for battle. She was a breeding dragon, not fighting class. Or so that’s what the dragon keepers told you. So you took it upon yourself to teach her.

You looked down beneath the clouds to see Vhagar. Finally, you thought. You felt the anger rise in your stomach. “Nābēmagon. (Attack)” You said with some hesitation.

Silverwing dove rapidly through the clouds and flew over the head of Vhagar. As she circled back you could see the shocked expression on Aemonds face.

Silverwing’s jaws clamped down onto the wing of Vhagar. Tearing her already damaged wings.

Vhagar roared and attempted to spew fire at you and Silverwing.

It made Ben gasp, and nearly lose his focus, but you managed to dodge the attack immediately.

You watch as Caraxes took hold of Vhagars throat, but it wasn’t enough to kill the large beast.

As you circled back once more, you knew you had only one option, “Jikagon syt se ȳrgos! (Go for the neck!)” You shouted,

Silverwing’s jaw clamped onto Vhagar’s throat. Hot blood poured out of its wounds and fell upon the soldiers below. Burning them, greens and blacks alike.

You held on as tightly as you could to your saddle as Silverwing’s talons clawed at the sternum of Vhagar, piercing its heart.

As Vhagar fell limp in Silverwing’s jaws, she released its lifeless body. As did Caraxes.

You and Daemon watched as Vhagar’s body fell into the lake below.

You breathed heavily and petted Silverwings scales as she breathed exhaustedly. “Gīda, gīda riña... Sȳrī gaomagon. (Steady, steady girl… Well done.)” You praised her as she flew on, taking in the sudden peace.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈

What you nor Daemon saw was that Aemond did not perish in the fall.

Vhagars body met the water before Aemond. He has untethered himself to Vhagar and swam to the shore quickly.

The only person to have noticed through all the chaos was Ben.

He chuckled to himself as he followed after him. He wasn’t going to allow him to survive.

He killed thousands of greens, thousands of men just to fill the hole that Aemond left in you. He couldn’t let the man who brought such pain to you and your family live.

Benjicot went into the forest after Aemond. He walked for what seemed like hours into the surrounding woods. Soon however he found what he was looking for.

A mournful Aemond sitting by a small stream.

Aemond looked over his shoulder to see Ben standing there. Looking at him with the eyes of a predator. “You found me,” Aemond said tiredly, slightly irritated, and without fear.

Benjicot remained silent for a nearly uncomfortable amount of time. Just staring at the man with dark and low eyes. “Do you know who I am?“ Ben finally spoke. His mind was running rampant with ideas of how he would draw as much pain out of the arrogant one-eyed prince.

Aemond’s eye trained over Ben’s face as though he were looking through him. It didn’t take much to figure out who he was. Ben was covered in blood, more blood than any other knight on the battlefield. “You are betrothed to my bastard niece.”

Ben took steps closer to Aemond, his eyes low. Staring at him as if he were a wolf spotting prey. “I am betrothed to the Princess of Dragonstone.” His voice was harsh and deep.

“Another whore of Dragonstone,” Aemond spoke cooly and calmly. His words sent hot rage through Ben’s already scolding hot blood. His eyes did not lighten, they remained dark and hateful. “An exciting prospect for a lord of a small and meaningless house I would wager. A chance at power.” Aemond stood on his tired legs and turned to Benjicot. “All you have to do is marry a bastard.”

Ben’s expression didn’t shift, stayed as hard as it was before. “You took something from her.” He said as his grip on his sword tightened. Aemond noticed the blood-covered sword in his hand. “Something you can’t give back.”

His eye went from the sword in Ben’s hand to Ben’s dangerous gaze. “Is that why you’re here? You want to prove your worth to an illegitimate half-breed?” Aemond’s hand went to the hilt of his sword.

“I’m not proving anything.” Ben shook his head slowly, “I want you dead because I have seen the pain you’ve brought to her.” He took a few more steps forward, biting his tongue out of anger, “And your words do not serve you well.”

Aemond smirked slightly, “I am the prince, son of Viserys Targaryen.” He said as he withdrew his sword, making Ben grasp his tighter and move into a defensive stance. “I care nothing of that bastard's pain.”

Ben chuckled lowly, “You are no true prince. Craven cunt.” His laugh faded and his eyes returned to bloodlust, “I want you for myself.”

“Craven cunt?” Aemond questioned, “And yet- you fight for a bastard’s cunt.” Aemond said with amusement.

With his vulgar remark toward you and your sex, Ben raised his sword toward him. Sneering at Aemond as he did so.

The clash of steel echoed across the forest, punctuated by the sharp hiss of labored breaths. Ben’s bloody longsword flashed in the dim light, arcing through the misty air toward Aemond Targaryen, who met the blow with the cold precision of one who had honed his craft to a deadly art. Sparks leaped as their blades met, the force of the collision reverberating through their arms.

Ben pressed forward, his strikes wild, unpredictable, but purposeful, fueled by the searing fire of grief and vengeance. His footwork was aggressive, his movements as much a storm as the one that had claimed Lucerys Velaryon.

Aemond moved like a shadow, his single eye gleaming with cruel calculation. His swordsmanship was a thing of grace and cruelty combined—every parry and riposte was a lesson in control. He danced around Ben’s fury, exploiting the openings left by raw emotion, testing him with feints and punishing counters.

The fight churned across the uneven ground, boots kicking up loose soil and grass. Ben’s blade grazed Aemond’s shoulder, tearing fabric and drawing a thin line of crimson. “That’s for her tears,” Ben said.

Aemond retaliated in kind, his blade carving through the air toward Ben’s ribs. Ben twisted away, barely avoiding the fatal blow, his chainmail ringing out as the sword glanced off it.

They circled each other like wolves, each looking for the moment of weakness that would tip the scales. Ben feinted a low swing, then brought his blade upward in a desperate arc. Aemond was faster, stepping to the side and slashing at Ben’s thigh. The blow struck true, and Ben faltered, a growl of pain escaping him as blood darkened his leg.

But Ben did not stop.

Ben lunged with renewed ferocity, his sword crashing into Aemond’s with such force that both men staggered. The Targaryen’s smirk twisted into a grimace as he was driven back, his boots skidding on the wet grass. Ben pressed the attack, his movements now fueled by sheer willpower, his injured leg threatening to buckle with each step.

Aemond stepped inside Ben’s guard, their swords locking, the screech of steel-on-steel cutting through the air. Aemond twisted, forcing Ben’s blade aside, and for a heartbeat, the world seemed to be still.

Then Ben’s superior strength prevailed as he pivoted, his off-hand clutching a dagger pulled from his belt. “For her heartache,” Ben said through gritted teeth as the blade darted upward toward Aemond’s neck, narrowly missing the prince’s jugular. The blade was lodged halfway up into Aemonds jaw nearly piercing into his mouth.

As he pulled away Aemond retaliated with a savage thrust, his sword piercing through Ben’s side, the blade slick with blood as it withdrew. “For my annoyance,” Aemond said, blood trickling out of his mouth.

Aemond grasped the underside of his jaw, attempting to stop the heavy bleeding of his wound.

Ben dropped to one knee, his vision swimming, but his gaze locked onto Aemond’s. Even in defeat, his eyes were defiant, a refusal to let his fury die with him.

To Aemond’s surprise, Ben stood again. He fought with all his might, with all his love.

The two men stood in silence, both equally damaged. Breathing heavily, in an attempt to regain whatever energy they could.

All that could be heard was the sounds of the small stream flowing down the hillside.

Ben’s eyes looked at Aemond, filled with anger and vengeance. “Come at me,” Ben hissed, raising his sword at Aemond once more, “With everything you have.” He sneered, his voice was wavering, but it was still deep and harsh.

Aemond smirked despite the blood pouring from his neck, a grim mask of arrogance and malice. He steadied himself, raising his sword once more, but his movements were slower now, his footing less sure. Ben noticed the subtle shifts in his opponent’s stance, the faint tremor in his grip. Aemond was faltering, even if he refused to admit it.

Ben's injured leg screamed in protest as he stepped forward, forcing himself to ignore the pain. "I said come at me!" he growled, his voice carrying over the rush of the nearby stream.

Aemond lunged, his blade flashing toward Ben’s chest. But this time, Ben was ready. He sidestepped, using the momentum of his dodge to pivot behind Aemond. Before the prince could recover, Ben swung his longsword in a brutal arc, the edge slicing across Aemond's back. Aemond cried out, his voice a mix of fury and pain, as he staggered forward, blood soaking his tunic.

Ben didn’t let up. He closed the distance, his sword coming down in a powerful overhead strike. Aemond raised his blade to block, but his strength was waning. The clash of steel reverberated again, but this time, Ben’s strike forced Aemond’s sword from his hand, sending it clattering to the ground.

Aemond fell to his knees, his breaths ragged, blood dripping from his wounds. His single eye glared up at Ben, defiant to the last. "Do it, then," he spat, his voice hoarse. "Prove yourself."

Ben’s chest heaved as he stood over Aemond, his sword poised to strike. For a moment vengeance—pressed down on him.

“For my wife,” Ben whispered. With a swift, decisive motion, he drove his sword into Aemond’s chest, the blade piercing through armor, flesh, and bone. Aemond gasped, his defiance crumbling into shock as his body went limp and fell to the soft ground.

Ben pulled the sword free, the weight of his vengeance lifting slightly but leaving behind a hollowness he couldn’t yet name. Aemond collapsed to the ground, his blood pooling beneath him.

But, once more, fury ran through his blood.

Ben swung his sword down once more onto Aemond’s neck. Decapitating the one-eyed prince.

Ben staggered back, dropping to one knee as the exhaustion and pain overcame him. He pressed a hand to his side, feeling the sticky warmth of his blood. But he was alive. Against all odds, he had survived.

The stream whispered in the silence that followed, carrying away the echoes of their battle. Ben lifted his gaze to the sky.

In the distance, Ben would hear Silverwing’s nasally chirping. He smiled softly, and then, with the last of his strength, he rose to his feet, grabbed Aemond’s head by his long silver head, and began the walk back to the encampment.

꒰ ୨୧ ─

Meanwhile, the war had come to a halt. Greens were lost, and the Blacks had prevailed.

While men combed the fields for their dead, you combed with them in a desperate attempt to find Ben.

“If he’s not here, are we to believe he coward away?” Daemon asked Lord Corlys as the men continued their search.

“He’d never do such a thing!” You said defensively. “Ben has never proven to be craven.”

“Then where is he?” Daemon questioned pointedly.

“We better direct our attention to Aemond.” Lord Corlys said.

You huffed and rolled your eyes. You couldn’t bring yourself to care about such a thing. All you could care about was Ben. “Where is he?” Corlys continued.

“At the bottom of the lake with the ugly beast.” Daemon with an irritated sigh.

“Or perhaps they are both closer than we think,” Corlys said as he looked across the field.

Confused you turned to see what Corlys saw.

That's when you saw it. Ben, was bloodied and sweaty. His hand clinging to his wounded side. His other hand, dragging along the severed head of Aemond Targaryen.

You turned around to see him stumbling weakening across the battletorn field. “Ben?” You asked as though you couldn’t believe your eyes. Pure disbelief.

“Fire,” Ben said painfully and exhausted but he’d never felt such relief to see you alive.

His words verified that you were not seeing a vision, but he was real, “Ben-” You said as you began running toward him.

“I’m bloodied-” Ben said, not wanting to frighten you.

You shook your head as you continued running toward him, “I like you bloodied-” You wrapped your arms around his neck and began kissing his bloodied cheeks frantically. You’d never been so happy, “The Gods are real!” You said with a smile as you held his tired and bloody face in your hands.

Ben’s dirty and bloody hands held your face in return, “Let me look at you-” Ben said, his eyes heavy and his voice hoarse. He took in the vision of you. Shiny and chrome, dangerous and graceful, a warrior and a princess. “I have waited so long to look at you.” He said before wincing in pain,

You looked down at Ben’s wounds. “You’re hurt.” You said. Though the blood that was his and the blood that was not was hard to distinguish between, It was a foolishly late realization.

Ben smiled weakly at you, his eyes still soaking in the sight of you, “I can’t bring myself to care right now.” He said despite beginning to collapse to the ground. His body gave in to the pain and blood loss.

You pointed to a squire, “You- Get the maester!” You demanded. You dropped to the soil, holding Ben closely. You ran your hand through his dark hair, attempting to keep him awake, “I’m not leaving you.”

Ben still had a smile on his face as his eyes finally shut.

As he did, your heart pounded, your tears welled and fell from your eyes. And Silverwing let out a roar so loud it shattered every window left in Harrenhal.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

Ben was taken to the Maesters in Harrenhal.

You lay there beside Benjicot as he lay there motionless and wheezing. You held his hand as you looked up at him with desperate eyes. Desperate for him to make a noise, any kind of sound at all besides the sounds of labored breathing.

You washed his exposed skin with a rag soaked in warm water. You were sure to speak to him, read to him, and you even sang to him. He always loved to hear you sing to yourself, you caught him eavesdropping on you many times.

It was memories like that that made you hold out hope for him.

Finally, one day, as you laid cuddled into his side. Your hand resting on his chest, watching it rise and fall with each breath. You heard a sound, “Mmm..” Ben finally let out a noise as his eyes began to flutter open.

You looked up at him, then finally sat up and held his face, “I’m here, I’m right here. I will be right here.” You said as if you were cooing a child.

Ben’s eyes finally steadied, he looked at you with longing eyes, “You flew.” He spoke weakly.

You exhaled sharply, and shook your head “I am sorry.” You closed your eyes and looked down in shame, “I know you did not want for me to see battle, but I could not sit by while you faced Vhagar alone.” You stammered.

He squeezed your hand tightly, “You’re the bravest woman I have ever met.” You finally looked back to him, “I’ve missed you.” “When I saw you in that sky I thought I’d died, gone to the heavens.”

“You nearly did.” You said placing a gentle hand on his bandaged side, “We’ve been here for a day and a night.” He took notice of how you said ‘we’, and he placed a hand on your cheek. You looked at him, your eyes inspected his face. His eyes looked nothing like the man you saw two days ago carrying your uncle's head. “You killed Aemond.” You said with a strange lightness, your eyes lighting up and the corners of your mouth threatening to lift into a smile as you thought of his head Ben carried.

Ben however didn’t hide his pleasure. The corner of his mouth pulled to a smirk as he spoke, “I never promise things I can’t keep.”

You felt adornment rush through your body, making you smile as you looked at him. You leaned down and wrapped your arms around his neck, “I’ve missed you so.”

You kissed his lips, the first kiss you’d shared since he departed. Ben’s lips were hungry, wanting more and more of you.

You stifled a giggle as you lifted off of him and got off the bed.

“Where are you going?” Ben asked, almost whining. You looked back at him as you walked toward the pot hanging on top of the flames in the fireplace.

“Nowhere,” You said as you poured a bowl of stew you had ready for this very moment, “You must eat.” As you sat by his bedside once again, you said, “We need you well-rested for your trip home.” Holding a spoonful of the stew to his lips. To which he gladly ate after days of nothing but war.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

You stayed with Benjicot in Harrenhal until he was well enough for the ship to return to Dragonstone. Never leaving his side.

By the time you had returned, the war was fought and won. It was easy enough without Vhagar and Aemond.

When you stepped foot on the island you could hear the voice of your mother calling out to you.

“(Y/N)?” Your mother called out, looking at you as if you might be a mirage, “(Y/N)!” Rhaenyra shouted as she saw you approaching. She rushed toward you.

Your mother tightly wrapped her arms around you, “I am fine.” You said trying to calm her.

“Your grace,” Benjicot said, redirecting Rhaenyra’s attention. “The realm is yours.” He said with a stern demeanor that spoke of devotion.

As he spoke, a squire held out a wooden chest. Rhaenyra looked at it curiously, “What is this?” She asked approaching it.

“I have brought you Aemond Targaryen,” Ben said, in some way attempting to warn her.

Rhaenyra looked at Ben with suspicious eyes.

As she opened the box, her expression seemed stone-like.

She looked at the sight with a mix of emotions. All of which were sudden and overwhelming. As she looked upon the brutality before her, the memory of her son, Lucerys, rose unbidden—his laughter, his earnest eyes, the boyish joy he had brought to a mother’s weary heart. And then the vision shifted, darkened, to that fateful day when Arrax had fallen, torn asunder in the stormy skies over Storm’s End. A part of her whispered that she should rejoice. Her son's death was avenged. Aemond’s dragonfire was extinguished, and with it, one of her bitterest enemies. But Rhaenyra found no solace in vengeance.

Her voice cracked, raw with grief and fury. “Aemond’s death is but a hollow victory. Blood spilled for blood, and still, the price is never paid in full.” Rhaenyra gathered herself quickly. “You have served me and the realm well. Done for us an invaluable service.” She spoke to the two of you. Trying her best to sound as enthusiastic as she could. But for Rhaenyra, there was no justice in it. Only a strange hollowness.

Rhaenyra closed the chest.

She turned to you with a somber smile, holding you by your shoulders, finding her true victory in the sight of her child safe and alive. The queen would feel her emotions coming onto her again. So she smiled once more at her daughter before taking her leave inside the castle.

Jacaerys walked toward the chest, opening it once more for a brief moment before shutting it. Aemond’s face and sapphire eye were engraved into Jacaery’s mind. And now, it was before him once more, lifeless and still. He felt a dark satisfaction unfurl in his chest, a cold flame that burned brighter with every heartbeat. He then stepped toward Benjicot, “A grizzly display of loyalty.” He said with a stoic tone. Jace then nodded, “But a display nonetheless.”

Jace gave Ben a firm nod, a bow of his head, before he too followed after his mother.

Ben looked at you, and you smiled at him.

You took Ben’s arm under your own, guiding him into the Castle and allowing him to lean on you. “I believe he accepts you.” You spoke softly to him with a girlish smile

Ben stifled a chuckle through his nose, “I only want him to know my intentions with you are honest.” He said with a sweetness unbefitting of a brutal warrior as he.

You huffed as you and he passed the threshold of the castle, “You needn’t prove anything.” You said defensively in his honor.

As you guided him to his chamber you looked at his tired and weakened body. It made you feel an even more tender adoration for him.

Once you had arrived at his chamber door, Ben was hesitant to go in and rest. He stood there refusing to let go of your hand. You smiled as you looked at him and sighed, “You must rest.” You said softly as you ran your fingertips through his hair lightly.

Ben shook his head, “My body might be fucked but my eyes are not. I have waited too long to be with you.” He was always stubborn.

You looked down the hall to see if anyone was there, when you saw you were alone you pulled Ben in close and kissed his lips. He was again- hesitant to let go, trying to taste as much of you as he could. “Rest.” You insisted, pushing his back playfully. “You must be well enough. Do not forget to have a wedding to attend in a fortnight.” You said before slipping from his grasp.

Ben watched as you walked down the hall. Smirking, he bit his lip as you looked back at him once more.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

Ben did indeed rest and was well come that fortnight.

The wedding would be remembered by all who attended.

The skies above Driftmark were streaked with hues of fiery red and deep violet as the sun descended, bathing High Tide in a glow as resplendent as the day’s occasion. It was a union of houses steeped in ancient Valyrian tradition, yet now bound to the Riverlands by the presence of Benjicot. The ceremony itself took place beneath a grand arch fashioned from driftwood, bleached white by years of sea and sun, entwined with silver ivy and pale fire blossoms from Dragonstone. A brazier of Dragonfire burned at its center.

Benjicot stood at the end of the aisle, his heart pounding beneath his chest as though it sought to break free and meet you before you could take a single step closer. The young lord had faced death more times than he could count during the war fought in your name, had led men into battle with your image burned into his mind—a guiding star, his unwavering purpose amidst the chaos. Yet, here, in the stillness of this sacred moment, he felt a fear far greater than anything he’d ever felt.

Would you know the depth of his devotion? Could you see it in the way his dark eyes followed your every movement, in the reverent stillness of his hands as they gripped the pommel of his sword? He had fought for you, bled for you, and yet it was your love—freely given, not won on the battlefield—that had undone him completely.

The veil cascaded over your crown like delicate waves, woven from the finest lace and embroidered with a constellation of pearls. Each raw pearl gleamed softly, their iridescence catching the light as though imbued with whispers of sacred devotion. Marine motifs swirled intricately through the fabric, threads flowing like seaweed of ivory and blue silver. The veil seemed alive, a tender masterpiece that wrapped her in a reverent glow, as if shielding her in the quiet embrace of centuries-old tradition. It framed her face with a serene beauty, a living ode to the grace and purity of the sea.

The gown was spectral and a relic of an ancient past, its ivory lace flowing with an ethereal grace. The bodice, structured yet soft, embraced the form with regal elegance, while the long sleeves and cascading skirt swept downward, pooling into a train that seemed to melt into the floor. The accompanying veil draped over your head, mirroring the gown's delicate intricacy, its lace and pearls shimmering faintly in the muted light. Together, they conjured an image of timeless romance, a fleeting glimpse of a bride from a bygone era, suspended in eternal reverence.

Your beauty inspired great emotion in a brutal and merciless man like Benjicot. He felt tears beginning to well in his eyes as he looked at you. You were the most beautiful woman- no- the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. You were more beautiful than even his dreams dared to conjure. His throat tightened, and for a fleeting moment, he doubted whether he was worthy of you— You a woman of Valyrian blood and otherworldly grace who had chosen him, a mortal man tied to the soil and shadow of the riverlands.

As you stepped toward Ben and the Septon, you smiled at Ben, who smiled back. He sniffled and attempted to hide his tears.

Ben took you by the hand, as you both looked at one another. When she reached him, and they stood face to face, Benjicot felt a strange, overwhelming calm. Your hand slipped into his, cool and soft as a sea breeze, and with your touch, he found his home. No words passed between them as the Septon began to speak the ancient rites, yet he felt as though they were speaking volumes. His love for you surged within him, fierce and boundless, as he swore silently to himself that no harm would ever come to you, not while he still drew breath.

Ben’s gaze did not stray from you as the Septon began to speak, “You may cloak the bride and bring her under your protection.”

To which, Ben did without hesitation. The black of his cloak contrasted beautifully with the ivory of your gown.

Though you’d not take the name Blackwood, you’d take him as a Husband. That was all he needed in this life.

The Septon continued, “We stand here, in the sight of the Gods and men. In thanks and praise, to join two souls as one. One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever.” Your eyes drifted from the fire to Ben’s gaze. “Father, Mother, Warrior, Smith, Maiden, Crone, Stranger…In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity. Hear now their words. Look upon one another and say the words.” Your eyes never left one another's hold.

You spoke your vows, softly, earnestly. You wanted him to know you meant every word. “I am his, and he is mine. From this day, until the end of my days, whatever may come.”

And Ben recited his, “I am hers, and she is mine. From this day, until the end of my days, whatever may come.” Ben’s grasp on your hand tightened for a moment. His other hand held your cheek gently and he looked upon you with loving and caring eyes. “With this kiss, I pledge my love.” His vow was not mere words. They were words spoken for centuries by a million men in a million different ways. But his were sacred and were heavy with duty and honor.

You tried your best to hold in your tires, “And I take you as my lord and husband.” Your voice was soft, gentle, and weakened from emotion.

“And I take you as my princess and wife.” He looked into your eyes, his voice steady as he repeated the vows, but beneath the surface, his body was filled with fire.

The High Valyrian rite began, you and he both placed your hands above the brazier’s flame, uniting fire and flesh in a silent pledge of courage and loyalty. Then, in Velaryon tradition, a vial of seawater was poured over their clasped hands,

“Se perzys zaldrīzoti se iēdar hen embar, ivestragī bisa sagon. (By the fire of dragons and the waters of the sea, let this union be eternal.)” The septon recited. “Then in the presence of Gods and Men, I proclaim you both, man and wife. Vala se ābrazȳrys, mēre ñelly, mēre prūmia, mēre soul, sir se syt ry jēdaone, one heart, one soul, now and forever. Cursed be he who seek to tear them asunder..”

He was hers entirely, and for the first time in his life, Benjicot felt that he had found his place. The love between you and him was so profound no one, not even the Gods could touch it.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈

The wedding feast was a spectacle to rival the ceremony. Tables laden with exotic Valyrian delicacies sat beside platters of hearty Riverlands fare, symbolizing the joining of your two worlds. Roast swan stuffed with figs and honey, spiced eel pies, and bowls of dark red wine were served alongside savory venison and blackberries.

Ben held you tightly as you and he danced around the Driftmark throne room. Ben looked at you adoringly, “Have I told you how breathtaking you look?” He asked sweetly.

You giggled girlishly, “Every hour it seems.” You said as he spun you around the floor.

Ben’s eyes trailed over your body, “I damn well better ‘ave.” He said with a lustful grin making you blush.

Ben danced you around the ballroom floor. As though he was proudly displaying you. You stifled another giggle and rested your head on his shoulder, “I don’t want this to end.” You said softly.

Ben ran his hand over your head, and hair, “It won’t.” He whispered in your ear, “I’m right here. I will be right here.” You raised your head from his shoulder and looked at him, realizing he recited the words you spoke to him as he woke in Harrenhal.

“Pardon my intrusion.” Lord Corlys’s deep voice cut through the dreaminess of that moment, making you quickly realize his presence. Ben seemed as startled by his presence as you did. “No intrusion, my Lord,” Ben said loosening his intimate hold on you in the presence of your Grandsire.

Lord Corlys smiled pleasantly to Ben, “May I have a dance with my granddaughter.”

Ben smiled in return and nodded, “Of course.”

As your hand abandoned his and placed in your Grandsire’s hand, Ben spoke, “I want ‘er back.” He said in jest before leaving the two of you to speak privately.

Corlys amused by jest smiled as he turned his attention to you, “He is a good lad.” He said confidently, “He stayed loyal and steadfast the whole of the war.”

Your thoughts turned to the ones you had during those months of isolation, “The Gods blessed us by returning you and him safe.” You said with a still heavy heart from those days of waiting for letters and news.

Corlys smiled down upon you warmly, “Your father would be proud of you. So would your grandmother.”

“I wish they were here.” You said with a melancholy smile.

He sighed in return, “You have so much of your grandmother in you. Fire and blood.” As he spoke, you looked down. Feeling once again displaced. But he could see through that. Your grandsire held your chin up high as he spoke once more. “And salt and sea.”

Your smile returned to you, “Thank you, Grandsire.”

As the sun set and stars began to glimmer, dragons circled overhead, their cries echoing across the sea. A grand pyre was lit on the beach, and as its flames soared skyward, Benjicot and his Velaryon bride danced beneath the stars. The music of pipes and harps wove a spellbinding melody, and the laughter of their guests mingled with the roar of the sea.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈

Once the night had slowed to a halt, Benjicot wasted not a moment.

The two of you, fairly drunk from honey wine, rushed off to your now shared chamber.

Benjicot caught up to your pace, and picked you up, carrying you the rest of the way to your chambers.

You couldn’t help but giggle and laugh as he kicked the door to the chamber open.

You threw off your long and beautiful veil, too drunk to care what happened to it.

As Ben set you down you felt his strong hands wrap around your waist tightly, and his nose trail against your skin. Along your shoulder to your neck, breathing in your sent. “Benny.” You said in a breathless whisper.

You could feel the heat from his breath on your skin. “No man on the battlefield would call me that,” Ben said softly into the crook of your neck, his lips grazing your skin. You could hear the smile on his face.

“No.” Your hand tangled in his hair as you felt his kisses grow more and more desperate against your skin, “Out there you’re Bloody Ben.” You whispered seductively, “But I am your woman and In here, you’re my husband.”

His lips abandoned your skin, and he took off your chin making you look at him, “I’m always your husband. Bloody or not.”

You smirked at him, “Don’t forget that.” You said with a sweetly seductive tone.

Ben’s brows narrowed, “How could I?” He asked, looking into your eyes, yearning, “You’re beautiful.” He said shaking his head.

You shook your head and stifled a laugh, “You’re drunk.” You said dismissively as you removed yourself from his grasp.

Ben grabbed hold of you once more. You giggled and squirmed, enjoying the feeling of being at his mercy. He placed you onto the bed and loomed over you. “And you are beautiful,” Ben said as he looked at your face admiring each and every bit of you.

“Benny?” You asked softly,

“Yes?” He responded, playing with the fabric of your delicate dress.

You took hold of his hand, “Will you tell me something honest?”

He looked at you a bit more seriously, “Always.”

You looked down, unsure of how to ask what you wanted to do, “I’ve heard vulgar rumors of war camps.” Benjicot looked at you, intrigued as to what you were going to say next, “Women throw themselves at knights and soldiers.” You looked up at him, “You were gone for so long, I’d not hold it against you if-”

“No.” Ben interrupted you, “No, I did not.” He said with confidence and earnestness you knew was true. “I did not lie in my letters. You consumed all of my thoughts. And how could you not?” He said as his hand ran over your face gently, “Every time we saw the ocean I watched the waves and felt you with me.”

You felt silly for suspecting such a thing. But fortunate to have a husband who would remain faithful to you, and honest to you. And not be angered when you question him.

You took his hand that ran over the side of your face and kissed his still bruised knuckles. Then kissing his palm, and then his thumb, then finally taking his thumb in your mouth as you sucked on it.

Ben groaned as you did so. He leaned down, and gently removed his thumb before he began kissing your lips once again.

He kissed you softly and gently until his hunger couldn’t wait any longer. He pulled your tongue into his mouth as he sucked on it.

Once your kiss broke, you felt flushed. “Benjicot.” You said breathlessly, running your hands down his well-dressed exterior, “I’ve waited for this for so long I don’t know where to start.”

He ran his hand through your hair, shaking his head, “Just let it come.” He said assuring you.

“Kiss me.” You demanded and he obeyed without hesitation. Kissing you feverishly, with such passion you never knew was possible. He bit and sucked on your lips as though he was trying to consume you. You felt your body shake with anticipation as you felt the heat between your legs grow. As the wetness became more and more intense, you pushed Ben off of you, “Unlace my gown.” You demanded, and once again, he happily obeyed.

As he unlaced and unbuttoned your gown more and more of your skin became exposed to him. Never had he seen so much of you, his cock was already embarrassingly hard for you and all he could see was your back.

His hand ran over your exposed skin, “You’re so soft.” He said softly.

You turned around, letting your beautiful gown fall to the ground, pooling around your feet. Your body was fully exposed to him, finally. He had dreamt of this moment for so long and yet you were all the more beautiful than he could have anticipated.

He wanted to ravish you like a hungry and angry man in battle. But, he didn’t want to scare you.

His eyes trailed all over your body, yearning, longing. He licked his lips as he placed one of his hands on the small of your back, pressing you against his chest. His other hand held your face as he kissed.

His lips mingled with yours in an eternal dance, and his hand began uncontrollably roaming all over your body. Making you moan sweetly into his mouth. His hardening cock rocked against your thigh. He couldn’t help it. The feeling of your bare breast in his hand, the feeling of your hardening nipple in his grasp, and the goosebumps that crawled against your skin from his touch, nearly drove him mad.

You grabbed a hold of his overcoat, gripping it so tightly the fabric threatened to rip. “I want to see you.” You moaned against his lips.

Benjicot looked at you hesitantly for a moment. He was not an insecure kind of man. But the war was not kind to his body. He’d collected many scars during his time in the war.

But you bore yourself to him, and he wanted to bear himself to you. He began stripping layers away. You admired all parts of him, damaged or not.

His toned chest and stomach were ridden with scars big and small. Each only showed you all he had done for you. A trail of hair from his belly button that led into his still-clothed cock made you clench your thighs together.

You ran your hand over the tenting bulge in his trousers making him groan. “I will not jest.” You said, assuring me before he pulled himself out of his trousers.

Ben chuckled lowly as he finally discarded them, “I hope not, you’re stuck with it til the end of your days.” His cock was halfway hardened, and still, it was larger than you had envisioned.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, “I am blessed til the end of my days.” You said softly.

The scars on his body felt lighter now, their pain a distant echo, because every wound had been a mark of his loyalty, proof that he would stand against the world itself to protect you.

Ben looked into your eyes, “I love you.” He spoke with devotion.

Your hand ran down his scared chest, over his stomach, “I love you.” You affirmed.

Now, the two of you, naked to one another. Ben laid you down on your now shared bed softly and gently. He looked down over your body with lustful and predatory eyes, “I’ve got to get you good and ready.” He said as his hand ran down your sternum, “I can’t hurt you.” He said as his hand continued to travel further and further down.

You smirked, “I’ll not protest.” You said before you gasped at the feeling of Ben's fingers sinking between your folds.

Ben was practically drooling as his fingers found your clit making you clench your thighs together around his wrist. Ben chuckled lowly at your sensitivity. “Velvet.” He said softly. Your moans only excited him more and made you seem all the more appetizing. “Can I taste you?” He asked with a hint of desperation in his voice.

You siffled a giggle, “You have before.” You said thinking back to your first night in Raventree Hall.

Ben smirked, and shook his head, “Oh, but I want to eat you.”

You furrowed your brows in confusion, “How?”

With his lustful and menacing smirk, he began slowly lowering himself on you. He kissed his way down your body, kissing your breasts, sternum, and stomach, until he was between your thighs. Ben looked up at you, “Is this alright?” He asked sweetly.

You nodded, beginning to understand his meaning.

His rough calloused hands spread your legs apart.

You could hear your heart beating in your ears. You’d never felt so vulnerable. Not even in war. And yet you never felt so safe. His hands offered sanctuary.

He kissed down your thigh, making small animal-like groans as he did. As if he were taking each fiber of his being to not ravish you right there.

His desires slipped from his grasp for only a moment. Making him bite down on the soft skin of your inner thigh. It made you gasp and shutter, which only encouraged him.

As his lips kissed against your slit, you felt a surge of passionate lust you’d not felt ever before. And as his tongue slipped past and between your folds that passion was only further ignited. “Ben, awhhh-Ben!” You moaned as you held onto his dark hair.

Your legs shook and pressed against the sides of his head as he drank you in. Lapping up all that he could.

His nose rubbed against your sensitive bud as his tongue pushed in and out of your entrance. It was nothing you’d ever had before. Not even by your hand. You could feel a tightening in your stomach, which was only wound tighter and tighter before it snapped.

Ben drank in your release with a moaning pleasure.

As he lifted his head he smirked at you. “Sweeter than honey wine.”

Your chest rose and fell with each panting breath. You grabbed a handful of his hair and forced him to crawl over you.

He kissed you passionately, and you could taste yourself on his lips. It felt vulgar and sinful, but in the same breath, it was ecstasy.

You wrapped your legs around him, inviting him into you.

Ben pulled his kiss away from you, looking at you with serious eyes. “Are you sure? You do not have to.”

You nodded, “I know.” You nearly whispered.

Ben hesitated for a moment. Not because he didn’t want to- he did,- more than any man could ever want anything. But because he wanted you to want it just the same. “If you wish to stop, say the word.” He reminded you.

He waited for you to nod before he began to ease himself inside of you.

The intrusion at first was foreign. You’d not taken anything near as big as him before. You gasped and moaned softly as he slowly and gently slid his way in. Until he was completely and fully inside of you, he looked at you, “Is that alright?” He spoke attempting to not moan.

You nodded, and Ben’s head dropped to the crook of your neck, “Thank the Gods.” He groaned.

His hips moved against your own. Grinding himself inside of you, again, and again, and again. You moaned as his lips fell onto your neck. Smothering your skin in kisses.

You caressed his head, and closed your eyes, relishing in the pleasure he was driving into you, “You feel so good,” You whimpered.

Ben lifted his head and looked at you. You could see the fire in his eyes, the same fire he had in him when he fought in battle. “You like it?” He asked in a growl, there was nothing that could have brought him more pleasure than the fact he made you feel like this.

You nodded frantically. You used locked your legs around him, forcing him to fuck you deeper and deeper as you said, “I need more. More-more-more-more-”

Ben groaned like an animal, “Fuckin’ hells.” He rasped, “You keep sucking all of me in.” He said with a growl.

You held his face closer to yours. His forehead pressed against yours as you looked into his eyes. “Harder, Ben.” You demanded, and he obliged obediently. He used the same strength he did in the war to plunge himself hard into you. “Ooh, f-fuck-” You moaned, the pleasure so intense you never knew such pleasure could exist.

Ben looked into your blown pupils, desperate and needy. “Tell me, Love.” He groaned.

“It feels,” You began, but struggled to finish your words. Your next release was coming, and soon. He could see it in your eyes plan as anything.

He nodded, looking at you with loving eyes, “I know.” He said, his pace not letting up but increasing. Wanting to draw as much pleasure from your lips as he could.

Your cunt kept squeezing him in, tighter, and tighter. It was ecstasy, euphoria, better than any wine, ale, or opium there was.

As his moans grew more and more animalistic, his movements grew more and more erratic.

Your cunt clenched so hard it didn’t release, squeezing as much of him as it could as you came around his leaking cock. “Awh!” You moaned, hands grasping the bedsheets by your head as tightly as you could. It was all he needed before you felt his hot seed spreading through your belly, “Ben!” You moaned,

He caressed your face. “I’ve got you.” He said, holding you close as he thrust into you once more, making sure none of it got away. “Always have you.” He said, his energy weakening, and his breathing slowing.

Ben looked down at you. Cheeks flushed pink, and your lips swollen. Your eyes were relaxed and the sweat from your body made you glisten in the candlelight. Ben panted looking at such perfection “No painter, nor sculptor could ever capture such beauty.” He said smiling at you. Ben laid down beside you, pulling you close to him, rubbing your back running his hands through your hair. “How do you feel?” He whispered to you as he kissed your temple.

“Perfect.” You said with a smile, running your fingers through his dark hair.

Ben chuckled lowly to himself, “Aye, you are.” He said softly before pulling you in by your jaw to kiss him once again.

Thank you for reading! If you would like to commission a personalized letter from a comfort character or any other custom writings please check out my ko-fi :) Xoxo, Bambi

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roseykat · 1 year ago

Text

TITLE: Play Tight

PAIRINGS: Bang Chan x f!reader

SUMMARY: Reader and Chan divulge their ‘excuse’ as to why they couldn’t make it to hot pot and barbecue dinner with their friends.

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with me, my work, or page whatsoever.

TAGS: smut, porn with plot, swearing, multiple orgasms, squirting, overstimulation, unprotected sex, creampies, fwb, some pillow talk (ish)

PART 1 / PART 2 / PART 3

🏷️ LIST: @chillichillicrabcrab23 @broken-glowsticks @ihatemen55 @boi-bi-ahaha @galamxy @weareapackofstrays @anglerfishiey @elizalabs3 @fr34k4c1dr41n @stayconnecteed @imnotjjini0325 @twinklix @meilix @livsposts @dawn-iscozy @princejisung @valibals @oiikaro @im-sinking-in-mud @aalexyuuuhm @baby-yongbok @/leftkittenface @20minsat180degrees @itsthatbri (if you want to be removed or added to the tag list, please lmk!) ⭐️

A/N: if you don't know what a refractory period is it's essentially about the ability of most women to cum back to back or one after the other in a short span of time between one orgasm and the next. Therefore, if it seems as though I've written about reader having multiple orgasms within quick succession, that's because she is and Chan is making the most of it. Also I really pushed the time limit with uploading this part bc I spent the last few hours trying to get the fan club which took fucking ages...

Hot pot and barbecue with friends - now that sounded fun.

You saw the group chat messages from earlier, and the plan to all meet up at half past six. Had you not orchestrated other arrangements, you would be sitting with them right now enjoying nice meals and chats. Instead, your body remains to be railed thoroughly, right into the bed that belongs to none other than Chan. The owner of very capable hands who had just finished fucking you on his couch earlier on.

He too missed dinner with everyone for the same reason. Selfishly being, to get laid.

Chan presented half of a lie to the group chat, saying that his family was back in the city - which was true, and that he was going to visit them, so he couldn’t make it - not true. You on the other hand conjured the only fib you could think of and told everyone that you were going to be working past six.

Both of you felt relatively guilty for ditching the dinner. However, it would’ve looked ten times more suspicious if the two of you suddenly changed your minds at the same time and decided to show up.

But why would anyone suspect anything? Nobody knew Chan was rearranging your guts every other night. Or so you thought. That dirty, slutty little secret was only kept hushed between you and Chan. These past couple of months you’ve spent at each other's houses, tainting the very last remnants of innocence either of you had.

You wouldn’t have realised it at first until you experienced it for yourself, but Chan is and can get really horny. Before him, there was no such thing as ‘hard-paced’ or ‘nasty’ sex. It was fairly vanilla, which there’s nothing wrong with from time to time. But at the minute, that wasn’t the cup of tea you fancied. No. It was something much dirtier and riveting, something that makes you feel like you’re very much alive.

Chan was able to achieve that in less than half an hour after you both hooked up one time after a night out. Sure there might’ve been alcohol involved, except neither of you were drunk enough to completely forget what an amazing time you both had. So much so that you and Chan decided to hook up again. And again, and again, until it became a weekly event.

In saying that, there were a few layers as to why you and Chan started seeing each other regularly. You needed the de-stressor from work that had been hounding you for months, and among other things, there is nothing like a good dick down to make just about make every worry in your mind disappear.

As for Chan’s situation, it wasn’t as light. Having been cheated on by his long term partner, Chan entered what you refer to as his ‘hoe phase’ to which he was rather embarrassed to learn that it’s something that people tend to go through when they’ve broken up with their significant other.

Nonetheless, you and Chan unexpectedly found each other in a way friends wouldn’t typically, and it was only limited to that. No strings attached, still remain good friends, and the best mind blowing sex.

“Fuck - yes, right there!”

Chan’s hips ram unforgivingly into you from behind. Creating godly, euphoric waves that ripple throughout your body each and every time he does. His fingernails clutch themselves into the soft flesh of your hips, allowing him to use that small bit of traction to pull your body back onto his cock or for him to thrust forward mercilessly.

This was way better than dinner with friends.

“W-Wait,” you reach behind to the side of your body, trying to tap his arm and prompt him to slow down so you could get your message across without having it fucked right out of you. “Ride…lemme ride you.”

Chan swallows and nods, taking a short breather, “yeah, yeah okay.”

Whilst you’ve learned a lot of things about Chan since you’ve started sleeping with him, he’s also learned some stuff about you. Like discovering throughout your secret sessions with him that you seem to cum the hardest when you’re riding him. He doesn’t entirely see the appeal of it since he doesn’t mind picking up all the slack just so you don’t have to do any of the work. At the same time, however, nothing feels as good as fucking his frustrations into you.

But he also doesn’t mind them getting fucked out of him. It easily added to one of the reasons why he found it so hot to watch you ride dick.

As he gently slides his cock out of you, moving into the next position where he now gets to lie back against his pillows. He watches you straddle him first, then take his length in hand before aligning it with your hole. Slowly, you sink down onto his cock.

The ‘o’ shape in your mouth enlarges when the entirety of his length vanishes inside you. He’s big. Something you can’t always grasp every time you sleep together. The silver lining in that however is that the foreplay is amazing.

“Christ,” you breathe out, lifting your hips up and down a couple of times, groaning as the pleasure already built up from before starts re-taking its effect to its highest extent. “Fuck, make me feel so full.”

“So you keep telling me,” he responds with a cocky grin as his hand reaches up to one of your tits and gropes ravenously. “But that’s what you like isn’t it? Having a big cock inside you, yeah?”

Your hand claps right on top of his, the other stabilises your body on his chest as you start riding at a pace comfortable enough to build some momentum. It doesn’t take long until every part of your body feels like warm flames are tickling your skin, leaving tingly traces in their wake.

“Yes, love it so much,” you pant breathlessly. “Love it when it makes me cum.”

Chan is glad to hear that. Then again, he knows. He’s fucked you long enough to know what you like, what you don’t, and what type of pleasure can turn your mind inside out. With that in mind, and one hand still groping you, he uses the other thumb to find your clit and rub generously.

“F-Fuck, oh my god, don’t stop, don’t stop,” you plead in anguish as you start to feel your orgasm shift into sight.

It’s right there. The utmost pleasure and ecstasy at its apex swells from the pit of your stomach, to your toes, all the way into the crevices of your brain. Every part of you - physically and mentally, just seems to melt into Chan. His cock, which feels like it was made for you to use like this, glides frictionlessly until his tip kisses your g-spot so lovingly. Each time it hits, Chan earns extra centimetres of long red scratches down his abdomen, marked up by your fingernails.

“Cum,” he demands through gritted teeth. “Fucking cum all over me.”

Brainless and vacant as you were in trying to respond to him, your actions seemed to speak for themselves. As Chan continues to move his thumb consistently over your clit and you bounce yourself still on his cock, your eyes suddenly screw tight shut - shuddering before a surge of relief gushes from between your legs.

Chan grins sickeningly.

The untapped pleasure squeezes and strangles moans out of your throat, yet, in the few spare moments when you had come back down to earth, your stomach felt like it dropped at some point along the way. The minute you open your eyes, breathing hard and heavy, your attention catches on to the mess you’ve made.

Most of Chan’s abdomen is soaked with your juices, his taut torso gleaming with your cum. Droplets of it roll down his side and seep into the sheets below him. From there, the humiliation is quick to ensue. Chan even sees the panic fill your eyes.

“Oh! I’m so sorry,” you whine apologetically. “I don’t know what happened! I was - I was caught up in-“

Chan ceases your babbling by grabbing the undersides of your thighs and just about throws you on your back as he moves to top you. His sudden movements catch you off guard, wondering for a moment what he was doing until he started fucking you again.

“Chris!” you cry out, latching around his back.

His head buries into the crook of your neck, “wanna feel you do it again. Wanna see you drip down my cock.”

At his words of request, you knew it was possible with the way that his dick hits deeper, pressing against those sensitive spots inside you that have been milked of pleasure. It’s not difficult to feel it building up again. There’s zero refractory period, allowing you to cum in an uninterrupted procession. At this stage, Chan could just whisper dirty things in your ear and have you become a squirting mess on his bed for him to watch. He wondered if that was actually possible.

After watching and making you cum an extraordinary amount of times this evening, Chan was about to witness another, this time, mixed with his own release of pleasure. He can never ignore that dense pressure stacking up in his cock, like a blocked pipe that’s about to burst with the help of the tension from your contracting walls.

One hand at a time, he places each beside your head to lift himself up while still trying to maintain a consistent pace. Then he coils back, grabbing the undersides of your thighs again and leaning some of his weight down so that he can press deeper.

Tears are pricking your eyes - not from any pain but from pleasure you’ve never felt. It’s so intense and has nowhere in your body to escape that the longer you hold it in, the more explosive it’s going to feel. As your emotions exude the ferocity of another orgasm, Chan absorbs your expressions, giving him a very clear estimate of when you’re about to cum.

“Gonna give me another one?” he asks even though you’re in no state of mind to give him a verbal answer. “Gonna be a good girl and get my dick wet one last time?”

You shake your head but only because you’re unsure if you can actually take that pressure that’s about to blow. Regardless of how high he has built your orgasms for you, you always take them well. It has you sobbing - screaming and clutching onto his bedding as you whimper that you’re about to cum. Chan could only just hear you over the sound of his skin slapping against yours.

“You can do it,” he reassures you. “You always do.”

At that moment, as if he just flipped a switch inside you, Chan had you gushing in an instant. Your upper body contorts to the left and stiffens as he fucks you right through it, right until his own orgasm slaps him on cue. Grunts mixed with whimpers force their way out from the base of Chan’s throat. His cock uncontrollably spurts his hot white cum, coating liberal amounts on your walls with a few hard, deep thrusts.

"Fuck, oh my god," he groans through gritted teeth, satisfaction seeping through into his blood.

He pulls back to sit on his heels, looking down as he grabs the base of his cock now slicker than usual with milky, almost transparent liquid rings of white. The fact that both of your juices have mixed together does something to a sick part of Chan’s brain. His lower half is still dripping with your cum, forcing you to shy away into the bunched up sheets when you realise you’ve made another mess on him.

Too weak to speak up about it, Chan had no trouble reading the room and caught onto your emotions. He was right to assume that you were embarrassed for it but fuck if Chan could experience it all again, he would. That then strikes an idea as he massages your inner thighs with the palms of his hands.

“That’s never happened before,” he comments with a little bit of surprise, making you turn with embarrassment, all the while trying to ease you back down from your high. “So fucking hot.”

His thumbs rub into your wet skin, inching closer to your pussy. Before you know it, the backs of his fingertips are brushing over your hole where his cum is leaking out of you. Semi sticky strings of it attach onto him when he pulls away and goes back in to smother it all the way up to your clit. He thumbs softly over the sensitive bud, setting fire again to the muscles in your lower half.

You shudder a little bit from the faint stimulation, and finally muster the energy to talk, “yeah…d-don’t know how. Usually it’s - mm, just cause’…maybe you were hitting the right spot.”

Chan doesn’t meet your eyes, and by the preoccupied look on his face, it was clear that he had another agenda as his thumb continued to rub mindlessly. Although, he did hear you as he smirked and shook his head.

“Nah, that was all you,” his mouth falls open slightly as he stares down at where his fingers begin to disappear.

“Chan…”

“I reckon you could give me one more,” he predicts as he starts to finger you slowly. “Just one more.”

“Please, fuck...” You whine loudly throughout the room. “D-Don’t think I can…please.”

Chan moves to the side of you just a little bit, placing his other hand on your lower belly to apply just a little bit of welcoming pressure while he ignores you, “yes you can pretty. Only one.”

His fingers curl deviously inside you, forcing an automatic bodily response for your eyes to roll to the back of your head and back to arch clean off the bed. As he strokes over the spongy area, your fists are clenching on the duvet. Your body is beyond sensitive and squirms uncontrollably at the faintest of his touch.

“Chris!” You sob, tears now leaking down the sides of your face from the euphoria.

This was the closest replica to being high. It’s like the pleasure picked up where it left off from the previous orgasm Chan brought to you and nearly doubled in intensity to the point where you thought for a moment that you were going to black out. But it hits you harder than before since his fingers have a bit more precision to find and hit your g-spot rather than making you feel fuller.

“That’s my good girl,” he says encouragingly.

There and then, as Chan detects the tell-tale signs that you’re about to cum, he finger fucks you at a generous pace that doesn’t let up on the time your insides have to try mitigate the pleasure. It goes into overdrive, sending a bunch of all the right signals straight to your brain.

“C-Cum…cumming…I’m-”

Chan appreciates the fact that he’s reduced you from crying and screaming his name to a silent, overstimulated mess. Alternatively, you’re surrendering entirely to the ecstasy which sweeps you under like a current. Chan doesn’t need to hold you in place for you to take what he’s giving you with his fingers. He just gives and gives, and gives until for the third time, he has you squirting.

“Oh yeah, look at that,” he grins excitedly, watching his palm and all the way up to his forearm become completely drenched in your juices. “What a good girl.”

By that point, Chan was successful in running your body dry. His pace slows down, now gently stroking inside you. Your quiet, strained moans die down, along with a reserve tank of energy you had left. You were limp and helpless, a gorgeous mess on the bed for him to admire.

Chan slowly takes his fingers out, gently massaging around your sensitive pussy, “fuck, so good."

You turn onto your side, processing all of that. For a few moments before, it felt like you had had an out of body experience, and maybe you were. Everything was so consuming and powerful that for a second you didn’t feel like yourself. But that wasn’t a bad thing, nor did you think of it that way. It’s just a new experience that you welcomed, one that made you feel good multiple times.

Chan hops off the bed and kneels beside you onto the floor as he strokes and pats your head, “you okay?”

You nod then go to sit up, “mm, just out of it. Give me a few minutes.”

“You - you shouldn’t move so much, not now at least,” Chan warns, then quickly spots the uncomfortable expression on your face as you realise that everything beneath you is wet and sticky.

“Your duvet,” you say to him, looking down and around at all the large damp areas.

“What about it?”

“Well it’s all ruined-”

“They’re not ruined,” he says defiantly like a stubborn child, almost like he was offended you even made that sort of comment. “It looks…fucking hot.”

“Hot,” you repeated with an airy chuckle.

“I didn’t know you could do that,” says Chan, bewildered.

“Neither could I to be honest,” you agree wholeheartedly. “It was really…intense and...strange.”

“Strange?” He retorts.

“Not a bad ‘strange’, just something I’ve always heard of, but never managed to do with someone else before,” you reply.

Chan smiles to himself, looking at his bed before that grin drops off his face, “never managed to do it with someone else before? As in, you’ve done it before, just…on your own?”

You blink up at him, quickly changing the subject, “reckon the others are still out?”

“I’d imagine so,” he says, still thinking about what you said previously.

“Hot pot and barbecue sounded so nice too…” you trail off, eyes going in and out of focus. Your body is starting to catch up to you.

“Well, luckily we live in the era of food delivery, right?” He responds confidently. “Let me clean you up first, then we can hop in the shower. After that, I’ll order it in for us, sound good?”

Sometimes when you’re with Chan, you forget that at the end of the day, he’s one of your good friends and still acts like it after you sleep with him. He knows when to be your fuck buddy and when to be your mate. None of it is awkward or weird and nor does he strive to make it that way.

Potentially it’s because of his nature to be a gentleman inside the bedroom just as much as he is outside, hence why you had a considerate amount of gratitude towards him for not being an ass like some of the people you’ve hooked up with or seen casually in the past. But that could never be the two people you slept with a few weeks back.

Not Hyunjin nor Jisung, whom you’ve thought about ever since that night at his apartment. Although it was truth or dare that led you all to the events that unfolded, you would’ve still slept with them anyway without the game. Just thinking about the two of them makes you miss them. Makes you miss the way that they touched you.

It was a different feeling to how Chan normally touches you. With him, he’s a friend with benefits. Someone who can call you or you can call him whenever either of you need each other. As a result, there isn’t going to be anything fond or loving between the pair of you - which you’re more than happy with. You made that clear to Chan at the start that you weren’t looking to enter into a relationship with him at any stage if that’s what he was thinking.

Thankfully, he wasn’t either.

But when Hyunjin and Jisung touched you, it was surreal. Almost natural, like they were meant to feel you that way and only them. That was the difference between them and Chan, not that you were comparing them since you saw them in separate positive lights.

There was just something about those two that left a strong imprint on your brain, something you can’t scratch without them…

I strictly forbid and do not permit ANYONE or any user on any platform to copy, re-upload, translate, remake, or pass off any of my work here on Tumblr or to any other online platform whatsoever. Doing so will result in having your account suspended, deleted, taken down, and or permanently banned.

#rosiewritesskz #stray kids smut #skz smut #bang chan smut #bang chan x reader

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changbunnies · 1 year ago

Text

Desire (18+)

♡ Pairing: Wolf Hybrid!Bang Chan x Fem Bunny Hybrid!Reader x Wolf Hybrid!Changbin

♡ Genre: little red riding hood au, fantasy/supernatural au, hybrid au, allusions to omegaverse dynamics, porn with plot, sequel to scent of you, past dubcon from part 1 is discussed

♡ Word Count: 10.9k (i have got to stop doing this, my god)

♡ Summary: In which the bunny hybrid “little red” has been unable to forget her past encounter with the wolves of the forest, and goes to seek them out for more fun while also being in the throes of her heat.

♡ Warnings: same as before; uses the little red riding hood fairytale as a base for inspiration, words like "alpha" and other omegaverse terms aren't used but the vibes are There

♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): reader is in heat so... yeah, pet names (though mostly as a title- bunny, little red, and sweetheart), more use of the word slut + gendered language, dom/sub dynamics (dom!chan, sub!reader, switch!changbin), scent stuff again lol, lots of kissing, size difference, size kink, outdoor sex :'), manhandling, unprotected piv, dacryphilia, orgasm control + denial, subtle mxm may not actually be all that subtle + more of the rivalry between binchan as well as jealous bin lol, mates / mating, biting, nipple play, overstim, multiple orgasms, choking kinda? reader just gets held by the neck lol, handjob, cum eating, multiple creampies

♡ Notes: this is a sequel to scent of you, which you can read here! so i fully intended to still be on a small break and this was not supposed to be a series but i literally could not stop thinking about what would happen next for them and i had to write it :’) i hope you enjoy <3

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

A frustrated sigh leaves your lips as you stare up at your barren ceiling, sweat dripping from your brow as your limbs grow tired and ache with exertion. How long had it been since the night you got lost deep in the woods, only to be found by Chan and Changbin?

Two wolves who you would still think you imagined were it not for the note they left behind, clear evidence that everything you experienced with them was real. It wasn’t something your psyche conjured while lost and alone in the dark woods, the pleasure wasn’t a vivid dream made in an attempt to cope with the reality that you were lost– everything about them, about that night, was entirely real.

You can still remember how you tucked your note away into a pocket of your dress before you opened the cottage door, your grandmother scrambling up to her feet when she heard you enter, rushing off her bed and out of her room as fast as her weak legs could carry her. You met her halfway, catching her as she stumbled, her arms squeezing you tight as relief washed over her.

You knew she must’ve been beside herself with worry, but actually experiencing it made guilt strike your heart like lightning; and when you opened your mouth to speak, she simply shushed you, requiring no explanation. Your grandmother wasn’t stupid, she knew a predator had caught you– your cape was torn in several places and you positively reeked of wolf, but rather than comment on it, she was simply grateful you were back home in one piece.

There were very few things a rabbit could do to ensure their survival against a wolf, and she was wise enough not to pick at the fresh wound you may very well harbor for having done the unspeakable in exchange for your life. She let the topic of wolves die right then and there before it could even be spoken, simply dedicating herself to stitching your cape back together, doing her best to make it appear as if it had never torn at all.

And not being forced to discuss what happened that night was certainly a relief, but not for the reasons your grandmother might expect. Because how would you explain to her that you actually liked the wolves that had found you in the deep, dark woods that night?

It’s utterly shameful how even now you still think of them, how their touch still feels engraved in your skin even as each season comes and goes. Shameful, how you look at that note they left behind as a sign that they’d want you back in their arms, that perhaps they think of you as much as you think of them. And they knew where you lived, they could easily seek you out whenever they pleased, but they never had.

You assume it to be for the same reason they likely left you outside instead of carrying you to the front door of your cottage, or opening the door to bring you inside your home– because you lived with your grandmother, and what would that poor, frail woman do if she was confronted with the sight of two massive wolves holding her precious granddaughter? But despite the logical reasonings, there was a part of you that still felt.. rejected, somehow?

It was fucking dumb, you knew this, but you couldn’t stop yourself from feeling that way. You just wanted to see them again so badly, to look at them and touch them and let them touch you, to bask in the warmth of their skin, to lay yourself against their massive bodies and revel in how feeling small was good in their presence.

Safety, protection– the complete opposite of what you should feel from them, the complete opposite of what you felt when you first laid eyes on Chan and then on Changbin, but somehow by the end of the night, that had all changed.

To further complicate matters, your heats have since made the disgraceful yearning you feel exponentially worse, your mind flooded by the memory of them, your body aching to feel them again, every nerve inside you practically screaming for their touch. You are typically quite prepared for your heats, often stocking up on the herbs needed to brew natural remedies meant to make your symptoms more bearable so that you can be an effective caretaker for your ill grandmother, and they usually did well enough for you.

Of course, it’s not a magic cure-all, nor does it completely alleviate any of the discomfort you feel, but it’s enough. You still need to make yourself cum a couple times before the night is over, but you can at least go about your day with little issue until the remedies effect begins to wane.

This week, and tonight specifically, was supposed to be more of the same– prepare dinner, get grandmother comfortably into bed, and then take care of yourself in the privacy of your room. If all went as expected, you’d feel satisfied enough to get some sleep, the next day you’d start your morning by brewing and drinking your homemade tea to calm your nerves, bring down your heightened temperature, and ease any aches you may experience.

You’d carry on through any remaining discomfort as best you could as you spent another day taking care of your responsibilities until night came, rinse and repeat for essentially a week until your heat eventually recedes and you can go back to your daily tasks as normal. Why had it become so different after meeting Chan and Changbin?

While going through a heat without a partner is never a comfortable experience, what you experienced now was downright unbearable; nothing you did to calm yourself or your body ever seemed good enough, none of your orgasms satisfying enough to dull the incessant need for something more, your only relief coming from driving yourself to utter exhaustion, when your body would be forced to give itself to sleep.

It didn’t make sense– it’s not like you were a virgin before you met them; you had your fair share of fun experiences with a few trusted friends of yours before you moved in with your grandmother to care for her. So certainly, while you weren’t exactly super promiscuous in your personal life, you were no stranger to sex, and you never fixated on your past partners during your heats the way you do now with Chan and Changbin.

If you had to guess, it must be because of how different they were. Nothing about them was familiar, and that brought a unique sort of excitement you’d yet to feel again since that night had come to an end. Could that feeling be replicated with another rabbit?

You weren’t sure– and even if it could be done, would you want them over the two wolves? That was another thing you’d found yourself stuck on lately; was it them specifically that you wanted, or just a similar experience, in which anyone would do as long as they successfully replicated the sensations?

Either way, you spent yet another night in unsatisfied yearning, and you weren’t sure how much longer you could take it. And your poor grandmother would suffer for it, as your scorching fever and addled mind made your ability to care for her deteriorate.

Compounding on that even further, your longing for them was becoming increasingly heightened as you became more and more desperate for relief– a desperation that would drive you to make foolish decisions you wouldn’t otherwise make. You look again at the note the two wolves left behind, clutching it tightly in your hand as you consider what you should do next.

If you go see them again, grandmother will know– their scent will be all over you when you return, and what will you say? Will you admit you liked them and sought them out on purpose? Or will you make up some stupid excuse, blaming your every decision solely on your heat, chalking your choices up to a lapse in judgment brought on by your need for relief?

But the simple truth is that it isn’t just your heat that makes you want to see them again, and even if you did place all of the blame there, it wouldn’t change what you have come to realize about yourself. The shameful reality is that you’re attracted to wolves– those two wolves in particular, and no one but them will be able to grant you the specific relief you seek.

And you know how dangerous it is to leave your home when you’re in heat– your scent could attract far more than just Chan and Changbin, and truthfully speaking, there is no guarantee that you will find them before someone else finds you first. You’d be walking blindly, mirroring what you’d done the first time you were lost in the woods at night, though this time with the explicit hope that you’d be found by them.

It’s dangerous, it’s foolish, you absolutely should not go into the woods at night looking for a fucking wolf– but that’s exactly what you do. Not even bothering to change out of your nightgown and into proper outdoor attire, you opt for tying on your cape and pulling up the hood, knowing they will instantly recognize you if you’re wearing it (as if they need more than just your scent to identify you in the first place.)

Just in case, you hastily write a note for your grandmother in the event that you aren’t back before morning, apologizing as you explain in the briefest of terms that you needed to soothe your growing ache. She’ll understand, you hope– she was young herself once, and surely she remembered what this feeling was like. And foolish though your choice may be, you hope she’ll sympathize and scold you lovingly instead of harshly upon your return.

The night air feels impossibly cold on your fevered skin, but it’s hardly a deterrent– in fact, you welcome the way the wind chills your sweat, a small, but much appreciated form of relief before you hopefully experience what you truly wish to.

Honestly speaking, you have absolutely no fucking clue where you are going; there is no path to follow to their den, no landmark for you to use in an attempt to guide yourself to your destination. You simply wander in the direction you hope is correct, praying the one (or ideally both) of the two wolves you so wish to find stumbles upon you.

You glance up at the sky, the waning moon and countless stars shining back at you; a full moon is coming, and you wonder if they even have time to play with you at all. You don’t know all that much about wolves outside of what is required for self preservation, but you do know that the full moon is important to them; will they even entertain you right now?

Maybe this truly is a fool’s errand, maybe you’re making a mistake and getting yourself lost for nothing, maybe–

Suddenly you’re being grabbed, body being forcibly turned around and back shoved harshly against a thick tree you’d passed just moments prior. Your breath hitches, and your nose recognizes who it is before your eyes do–Changbin. He's caging you in and looking down at you with a clenched jaw, his claws digging into the bark of the tree he has you pressed against, clearly trying very hard to control himself.

“Y/N-” he breathes, voice strained as he uses your given name for the first time, and hearing it from him makes a new, fresh wave of heat crawl over your body. “What are you doing walking around out here smelling like that? Are you insane?”

Unable to control yourself now that he’s close, you immediately grab at his shirt, twisting the fabric in your hands as you look up at him with pleading, glassy eyes. “B-Binnie, I– I was looking for you, needed to find you,” you explain, your voice embarrassingly weak with desperation, “need you and Channie to help me, please.”

His grip tightens, you realize– the sound of wood cracking and splitting audible just behind your head. “Please? I’ll be a good bunny for you again, I promise, please help me,” you continue to plead, shamelessly pawing at him, begging for him to accept your advances.

Holy shit, are you seriously doing this to him right now? Begging him to take care of you? Him? A wolf? A rabbit begging a wolf for something like this is completely unheard of, only occurring within his wild fantasies.

To be quite frank, he was aware that the first time with you was coercion– he and his elder saw a meek, defenseless rabbit, and they took their chances. He had his fun, and while you did too when things really got going, he fully expected that to be it, though he hoped otherwise.

And God, he can’t even believe how reckless you’re being; what if it was one of the other wolves patrolling this area tonight that found you instead of him? He can only imagine how the younger wolves in the pack would react to your scent right now– he’s barely keeping himself in control as it, and he has much more experience with these matters than them.

He clenches his teeth as his gaze trails away from your eyes and down your body, where your nightgown leaves very little unexposed, where you are very clearly pressing your thighs together as you stare up at thim, expectant and hopeful. Fuck. You really want this, don’t you?

“Fuck, yeah, okay, just–” Changbin says as he picks you up, tossing all his responsibilities aside as you’re lifted from the ground and cradled in his arms, “just hang on, we’ll go find him, okay? We’ll help you.” And he’s trying, he’s really fucking trying to control himself and not just throw you down on the ground right here and have you all to himself, but you’re making it increasingly harder to maintain focus on the task at hand as he winds his way through the forest.

Chan’s scent is barely discernible over the way yours intensely fills his nostrils, and even when he does manage to pick up on his elder’s location, he can hardly even focus in on it. And your hands wont stop roaming over his skin, you press your body to his as much as you can manage, absolutely desperate for contact.

He can hear you panting despite the fact that all he’s doing is holding you, can feel your body tremble in his arms, can smell the slick that steadily leaks from your core. And to put it simply, Changbin is a weak man, and your desperation is utterly infectious. But still, he holds strong; that is, until you start pressing kisses to any patch of his skin you can reach.

When your breath hits his neck before your lips latch on to it, he feels completely done for. This is it. Fuck it. Chan can have his turn with you later– Changbin is the one that found you, it’s only fair that he has fun with you first, right? And besides, you’re acting positively insatiable right now– how is he supposed to hold off or say no? That’s quite literally asking him for the impossible.

So he falls to his knees, your bodies tangled together on the grass in a matter of seconds, your clothes being thrown off in a flurry. Changbin rotates to his back, pulling you on top of him, deciding that he should still be a gentleman even when his composure is at its limits and not let your bare skin touch the dirty forest floor.

He grabs your face, pulling you in to kiss him before you’re even fully settled on his lap; it’s a bit awkward, given the size difference between you, but he makes it work, curving and twisting his body however necessary to keep his lips on yours as you adjust your positioning.

Your slick drips and pools, coating him entirely with no effort expended on either of your parts. He’s even bigger than you remember, and that feeling of pure adrenaline inducing excitement that you’ve missed so much finally returns to you. This is what you needed all this time, what you’ve been craving.

You grab the base of Changbin’s cock with one of your hands and do your best to line it up with your hole– and again, it’s awkward due to the difference in size between you, but you’re determined to see this through. “Wait, fuck, sweetheart–” Changbin gasps as you begin to sink down on him.

He fully intended to get you prepped first, was going to pull you up after he got his fill of kisses and have you sit on his face, make you cum and loosen you up enough to take him, but apparently you felt that you’d waited long enough to have him inside you again. And you’re so fucking wet that the slide down is relatively easy; benefits to being in heat, you suppose– it makes your fervent desperation for cock come with far less sting.

And no doubt, there is still a sting– after all, your body isn’t made to take a size so disproportionate to your own; but all it does is further ignite the fire in your gut, the excitement swelling as you take more and more of him inside. Changbin uses one hand to bear his weight and keep himself propped up while the other holds your face in place, his tongue shoved in your mouth.

He hardly lets you pull away for a breath before you’re dragged back to his lips, a moan coming from deep in his chest when you meet his tongue with enthusiasm. Your palms are pressed firmly on his chest, your nails digging into the surprisingly soft flesh, your every moan and whine swallowed by his open mouth until your hips finally become flush with his.

You know you should feel the utmost shame, desperate as you are for a wolf, stark naked and exposed in the open forest where anyone could stumble upon you, but all you feel is relief. True, delightful relief, finally– Changbin gives you everything you need just as easily as you’d hoped he would.

You mentally compared him to a puppy during your first meeting– desperate, easily excitable, cute in a way that juxtaposes his rough exterior. And you knew, just knew he’d never deny you if you offered yourself to him, because it’s simply not within him to do so. A desperate puppy with his equally desperate bunny– what better pairing could there be?

And truly, you feel like heaven– your body, so small in comparison to his, makes you feel impossibly tight, your wet warmth utterly perfect and beyond compare; he could die right now, and feel that his life was entirely fulfilled. “Be a good girl, and show me how good bunnies can bounce,” Changbin breathes as he lets go of your face, now supporting himself with both arms as he leans himself back to watch you. He huffs out a small laugh when he feels you clench, pleased to find that words still have a profound effect on you.

Changbin expected you to start slow, but maybe expecting a desperate little thing like you in the middle of her heat to show restraint wasn’t his brightest moment– because you’re bouncing fast, and fuck, he knew rabbits had strong legs and were notoriously skilled at bouncing, but what the fuck?

You’re riding him like your life depends on it, which from your perspective may very well be true– you’ve been so pent up and unsatisfied that truthfully you couldn’t act any differently than this even if you wanted to. All you can think about, all that drives you, is your need to cum on Changbin’s cock– nothing else matters.

Despite the fact that Changbin is using his arms and hands for the explicit purpose of keeping himself upright to watch you, you all but demand he brings them to you. It’s a pitiful attempt really, trying your best to learn forward enough to grab his hands without losing your balance on his lap and falling straight onto his chest, but thankfully he realizes what you’re going for and offers them to you before you can fully fall against him.

His back once again touches the cool grass, with you intertwing your fingers as soon as his hands come to your own. His hands are much bigger than your own, fingers thicker, and you have to completely spread out your own fingers to even get them between his, but he squeezes your hands once you succeed. You use the additional support of his hands in yours as leverage for your bouncing, his arms strong and firm enough to help keep you upright and steady as you slide up and down his length.

You can hear his tail thumping against the ground, a display of excitement and pleasure that he’ll never be able to disguise. Your nails dig into his knuckles, your bottom lip sucked between your teeth as you try to contain the noises that leave you, not wanting to alert the entire forest that you’re fucking right now (as if yours and Changbin’s combined scent doesn’t already give that truth away.)

But there’s still something missing– something that a desperate puppy and bunny really needs; and that is someone to keep them in line. That’s where Chan comes in, tsking at the scene in front of him as he steps closer, having evidently caught your scent and came straight to where you are now, sitting on Changbin’s dick in the middle of the forest without a single ounce of shame between the two of you.

“What’s this? Having fun without me?” he asks with a frown that feigns disappointment, though the slight swish of his tail and subtle spark in his eyes relays that he doesn’t actually mind very much. If anything, it gives him a chance for even greater fun, opens up a world of opportunity to tease and demand whatever he wishes.

And his sudden presence and voice doesn’t cause you to slow down in the slightest– rather, it excites you further, causing you to bounce with renewed eagerness as you turn your head in the direction you heard him, looking him squarely in the face even as you continue your motions atop Changbin.

“That’s not very nice, I thought you liked me,” Chan pouts as he squats down next to the two of you, though his obviously fake pout breaks into a smile when you whine and affirm you do like him and want to have fun with him too.

“We tried, fuck– we tried to find you, I swear, but she– she just–” Changbin is doing his best to talk, though you’re making it extremely difficult for him to be coherent, not letting up your pace in the slightest; and truth be told he’s never been much of a multitasker. “She– she’s fucking– God, I can’t–”

There’s also a pang of jealousy in the pit of Changbin’s stomach over how obviously excited the addition of Chan made you, how his presence and voice caused you to bounce on his dick with renewed vigor; and really, he should probably be happy that you’re putting so much effort into riding his cock thanks to Chan, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he squeezes your hands harder, almost instinctively, a gesture that he doesn’t even fully comprehend as possessive. “Oh, look at what you’ve done to poor Binnie. He’s a mess because of you, slutty girl,” Chan coos and your stomach twists as you divert your gaze back to Changbin.

He’s sweating, panting hard, his stomach rapidly clenching and unclenching– and you feel it, the throb and twitch that alerts you to how close he is. And you’re close too, you have been for ages. Days worth of terrible, unfulfilling orgasms make the pleasure of this moment positively euphoric– but you were doing your best to hold out for Changbin. You know that once you came you won't have the strength to ride him anymore, and you want to be good and do what he asked of you to the best of your ability.

And Chan can clearly see the signs on both of you; he’s shared with Changbin enough times to recognize his tells, and in your case, well.. It doesn’t take a genius to realize you’re about 3 seconds from gushing and creaming all over Changbin’s cock and lap.

But you started the fun without him! And he isn’t sure you deserve to cum so easily after leaving him out– so just as your volume picks up, your pace finally faltering as your taut line is about to snap, Chan grabs your hips and forces you down, bringing you to a complete stop.

You whine loudly, wiggling your hips as you vainly try to lift yourself up again, but it’s impossible– Chan is much, much stronger than you after all. Changbin, who was close himself, curses and whines nearly as loudly as you, his brows knitting together as he tries to calm himself down.

“Hyung, what the fuck–” he complains, though he doesn’t dare make a move to make Chan stop holding you down– he knows better than that. You look at Chan, bottom lip quivering and eyes glassy with fresh tears as babbles of “why” and “please” and “need to cum” leave you.

“But weren’t you a bad bunny? Having fun with just Changbin, weren’t even thinking of me at all..” Chan says with another false pout. He is nowhere near as jealous and unconsciously possessive as Changbin, as he knows very well he can have whatever he wants, but this dynamic is where he has the most fun– exuding control is the greatest pleasure he knows. Changbin’s denied orgasm is just collateral.

“And poor Binnie, you dragged him down with you because you just couldn’t wait,” he continues, grabbing your face with one hand and making you look back at the wolf beneath you, “I think you should tell him you’re sorry. Tell him you’re sorry for being a slut who can’t wait and getting him into trouble with you.”

You whine again, watching as Changbin swallows and bites his lip, clearly eager to hear the apology you’re about to grant him at Chan’s command. “I.. ‘m sorry, Binnie, ‘m really sorry,” you mumble, and Chan tsks again, very clearly unsatisfied with the meek apology.

“C’mon little red, you can do better than that, can’t you? Try again, we’re waiting.” You glance at Chan and then back at Changbin, swallowing as both of them stare at you and wait; the ball is in your court, and you have no choice but to deliver.

“I’m sorry f-for being a slut, and ‘m sorry for being a bad bunny, sorry for getting Binnie in trouble, ‘m really sorry, I promise ‘m so sorry,” you try again, to which Chan smirks, taking his hand away from your face to give you a pat on the head. “That’s better,” he says as he finally removes his other hand from your hip. You take that as all the permission you need to start moving again, wasting no time in lifting your hips and slamming them back down onto Changbin’s lap.

Changbin’s surprised gasp transitions into a moan, his hands once again squeezing yours while also trying to be careful not to pierce your skin with his claws. Eventually, begrudgingly, he lets go of your hands to dig his claws into the earth instead, finding that better than risking cutting into your precious skin.

Chan watches patiently, waits until you’re both close again before he brings you to another stop with his strong hands, frustrated whines leaving you both as you plant your feet firmly on the ground and try to fight against Chan’s natural strength.

“I didn’t tell you that you could move,” he explains as he watches tears fall from the corners of your eyes, “couldn’t even wait for my permission, and look at you now, in trouble again– dragging Binnie down with you, again.”

You pout and cry, babbling apologies to both wolves, shame ever a foreign concept in the face of desperation– all you know is you want to cum, but if Chan needs you to be good, to ask first and follow his rules, then you will; you’ll always be as good for him as you possibly can be.

When Chan removes his hands from your hips this time, you ask for permission as he wants you to. “Can I move, please? Please, I’ll be good from now on, I promise, just need to cum so bad,” you beg and he smiles as he coos, once again giving you a sweet stroke to your head.

“Of course, good bunnies can have whatever they want. Make Binnie cum too, he’s so good to you, he deserves it, doesn’t he?” Chan chuckles as you nod quickly, eagerly resuming the motions on Changbin’s cock as if Chan had never stopped you at all. “Tell him,” he says, moving his hand down your head, over your back and to your tail, tugging it ever so slightly, “he’ll get so excited. Go on, talk to him.”

“B-Binnie, you’re so– so good to me, make me feel so good, want you to cum, d-deseve to cum– cum in me,” you stutter out between harsh breaths and Chan has to suppress the laugh in his throat when Changbin’s tail fucking whacks against the ground in an impossibly loud, excited thump. So predictable, he always is– can’t hide a damn thing he thinks or feels.

Changbin is the one grabbing your hips this time, helping you along as he starts to fuck up into your from below. You squeak and nearly fall forward onto his chest, but somehow manage to keep your balance and stay mostly upright, your hands gripping desperately at his biceps.

And in all the times they have shared someone, Chan is met with a sight he doesn’t think he’s ever seen. Changbin’s eyes are rolling back as bites his lip and chases his high from below, using all of his strength to move you however he wants. Clearly, being denied orgasms did something profound to him– he’s almost feral, relentless in the way he fucks into you.

When he feels the build up again, he tries to hold back, almost afraid that Chan will rip it all away from him at the last moment again– but then you’re squeezing him hard, he can feel more slick gush and coat his length as you cry out, and he loses it entirely, cumming in long, drawn out spurts, giving you all he has to give.

You’re entirely collapsed on Changbin’s chest now, seemingly spent from all the effort you exuded and the intensity of your orgasm, eyes closed as you try to collect your breath. Changbin is equally breathless, brain lagging as he processes the fact that he’s cum the hardest he thinks he ever has, and on top of that it was in the middle of the fucking woods with Chan controlling when you were both allowed to cum. Maybe he’s due for some self discovery after this..?

Changbin, whose senses are finally returning to him and recalls he was unable to kiss you at all once you really got going and was sorely missing it, lifts your face and pulls you into a kiss. One kiss turns into two, then to three, then to four, until you’re essentially making out, with Changbin effectively stealing away all the breath you’d just regained.

Chan watches for a time, lets Changbin indulge in what is one of his favorite intimate acts, but he can’t let you two be the only ones having fun for much longer. It’s Chan’s turn now, and he’s been patient enough.

He’s good at putting up a front, makes his control seem effortless, what with his boundless charisma and intimidating presence, but fuck, the minute he caught the scent of your heat in the air, he about lost it. Just as Changbin surely felt, he needs to fuck you before he risks going insane.

The younger wolf whines when you’re pulled off of him, a mess left behind on his lap where you once were. What a selfish pup he is– maybe one of these days Chan needs to remind him what it means to share. “Go home, Bin. And tell everyone still there to get the fuck out, so I can bring her back home with me.”

Changbin blinks for a moment as he processes, and then he’s scrambling to his feet, getting his clothes back on in a rush. Changbin wanted to bring you home too, but he knew he couldn’t– if he just walked in with you in his arms, it would’ve been chaos; the younger wolves with much less practice in self restraint would’ve lost their fucking minds. Even Chan and Changbin themselves had barely been keeping it together, still heavily effected by your heat despite how experienced they were.

“Uh, when I do, can I.. y’know..?” Changbin asks before he starts to leave and Chan rolls his eyes before he lets out a small laugh. “Yes, Bin, you can join us again.” Changbin smiles, tail swishing cutely before he runs off and once again you have to suppress a giggle at the surprisingly adorable display. You wonder if he’d take offense to the fact that you view him as a puppy; he just screams “I need constant affection and attention or I’ll die” and it’s oddly endearing.

Chan doesn’t let your thoughts linger exclusively on Changbin for long however; he’s grabbing your face again, diverting your attention back to him, making you look straight up at him. He captures your lips in a kiss, one that is far more impassioned than you would’ve expected based on his cool exterior.

He holds you tightly, pressing your body firmly against his own, leaving no space between you. You in turn wrap your arms around his neck, sighing into the kiss as you are met with more of the sweet relief you’ve desperately needed. His hands travel over your body, refamiliarizing himself with the feel of your soft skin beneath his fingers, refreshing the memory, letting it become engraved once more.

When he pulls back, he is looking at you carefully, doing his best to continue to suppress his carnal need to have you long enough to ask you something that’s been mulling around in his mind, “Tell me honestly, little red. Did you want us to find you tonight, or was it an accident?” He needs to know if it was simply spur of the moment with Changbin, if anyone would’ve done if they’d approached you, or if it was them you specifically needed to get you through your heat.

“You, I wanted you,” you answer easily, truthfully, a slight blush crawling over your face as you admit how you truly feel; your mind may be foggy from your heat, but you're not immune to the nerves that come with an honest confession, “I told Binnie too, that I.. I wanted you both.”

Chan smiles at your answer, a smile that makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to how pretty he is when he smiles at you. “Good. Then my next question before I keep you for the rest of the night– do you want to be ours?”

“B-Be yours..?” you ask, blinking up at him as your mind goes over what that could mean. “Mhm, mine and Changbin’s. Our sweet, little bunny that we’d take good care of. Our mate, essentially.. Do you want that?” Your breath hitches, the blush on your face growing as the words swirl around in your head.

Their mate. Chan’s. Changbin’s. Both of them.. Their mate. “A-Are you serious? I mean– I’m a rabbit, and you’re.. not.” From what you've heard, wolves take having a mate very seriously.. and he wants that special someone to be you? And to share that special someone with someone else? Is that really okay?

“I’m completely serious. And you don’t have to be if you don’t want to, but I hope you know it’s not something I offer easily,” he says, stroking your cheek, offering you the softest smile you’ve ever seen him hold. “And you feel it, don’t you? The inexplicit desire, how nothing since having each other has felt complete, satisfying.. enough?”

You swallow as you nod, knowing that much is true– ever since you met them, every night without them felt.. wrong somehow. Like you weren’t where you were supposed to be. And God, how unbearable your heats had become, going far past the usual discomfort into completely uncharted, agonizing territory.

“I do, I really do,” you answer, unable to lie about such a thing even if you wanted to. And there’s still so much about your life you’d have to figure out, but you know you’d regret it if you said you didn’t want to be theirs, you’d live in agony if you didn’t have them. He smiles again before he kisses you, hands traveling down to your legs, over your thighs and hips, until he’s cupping your ass, lifting you up and bringing you closer.

You leak onto his lap, but he doesn’t mind, can’t even process it, really– his mind is full of you. Of your scent, of your touch on his skin, of his on yours. And just how you’d done with Changbin, you insatiably run your hands over whatever patch of his skin is within your reach. And if his senses weren’t in overdrive from your scent, he’d admonish you for being so insatiable, tease you for being a slut and make your face burn red from filthy, whispered words.

But he has to admit the desperate, needy side of you he’s witness to is a treat, and it works at the rope that is his composure in record time, steadily tearing at it until all that keeps it together is a thin thread. He’s no better than Changbin, is he?

Really, if this is how you’ve been from the start, it’s clear the younger wolf never had a chance; but Chan is the superior here, and he has to set an example– what good will it do if he can’t stay in control long enough to get you back to his den? He has something to prove– to himself, to Changbin, and to you; that he doesn’t break and give in so quickly and easily.

So he quickly rises to his feet with you in his arms, carefully leaning to where your clothes were discarded and picking them up, covering you in your cape like it’s a blanket. “Just in case there’s some stragglers still at home,” he explains; when you’re officially his mate, no one will touch you, but until then, he’ll take every precaution necessary to protect you from other wolves that may want you– barring Changbin, naturally.

It takes you no more than a few minutes to get to their den thanks to his speed, and just as before you closed your eyes and clung to him tightly as he wove through the trees to get there. Thankfully, it seemed Changbin did a good job at relaying that the leader wants everyone gone until morning, as the only sight you are met with inside is him sweetly and excitedly waving as Chan approaches with you in his arms.

Just like the first time, Changbin trails close behind on the way to Chan’s room, locking the door for security when you’re all inside. You’re set down on the bed, with Chan putting your discarded clothing on his nearby armchair before he’s sitting next to you. Changbin also wastes no time getting his clothes off again, to which Chan stares at him incredulously until Changbin replies with a simple “what?”, causing Chan to scoff in disbelief and you to giggle.

Changbin sits on your other side, his hands in his lap as he waits for whatever it is Chan is going to do next; and he may be jealous, but he won’t interfere with whatever his elder wants to do with you, even if it means all he gets to do for the remainder of the night is watch.

Chan reaches out, pushing your hair behind your shoulders and exposing your neck, to which Changbin instinctively swallows. He resisted last time, only scraping your skin with his teeth, but he wanted to bite you so bad that night.

It was a bit strange, considering he’d never had such an urge with previous partners; he liked them, of course, they were pretty, sexy, fun.. But he almost felt the natural instinct for a wolf to bite was either a myth or something he wasn’t meant to experience until he had you.

And maybe that’s why he felt so jealous when Chan captured your attention; Changbin has always been a jealous person, but it never felt this.. real, almost? Serious, and not entirely playful and fun-aligned as it usually was.

Changbin watches as Chan trails his fingers over your neck, the both of you instinctively holding your breath. He watches as Chan replaces his fingers with his lips, watches as he trails kisses over your skin, watches as his hands travel to your thighs and squeezes them. His jealousy mixes with excitement, softened cock beginning to harden once more, his fingers twitching and aching to touch you some more, but not acting on the desire; it’s Chan’s turn, he has to remind himself repeatedly.

Chan chuckles a bit when he pulls away and sees Changbin very clearly internally struggling; he’s so simple when it comes to things like this, incredibly easy to read. Once more, Chan grabs your face, but he does something new this time– he makes you tilt to the side, exposing the entirety of the right side of your neck to Changbin.

He licks his lips and swallows before tearing his gaze away from your neck to look at Chan, unsure of why exactly he’s exposing your neck to him like this. “Bite her. I know you want to,” Chan says much too casually for Changbin’s poor brain, his eyes widening in surprise as he practically gawks at his elder.

“W-What? But– I can’t, she’s–” he stutters out, and you’re surprised to hear him so flustered; you guess the rumors are true– wolves take mating and bites very seriously. It’s not something he’ll do on a whim, even if he desperately wants to.

“She wants you to. Wants both of us to,” Chan continues with a smile as he watches the gears turn in Changbins mind, “isn’t that right? Tell him, sweetheart.”

“’s true, I wanna be yours. Both of yours,” you tell him and Changbin groans, though you can’t tell if it’s from disbelief, pleasure, or a mix of both. He takes one of your hands in his, squeezing once more as he leans down to your neck, inhaling your scent as he presses open mouthed kisses to your skin.

“You’re sure..? This isn’t something you can take back,” Changbin asks between his hot kisses, and you affirm eagerly, that yes, you absolutely want this. “Together then?” he asks as he pulls away, looking at Chan with utmost seriousness.

Chan hums his agreement before he’s tilting your head backwards, your entire neck exposed to both of them. And though this is something you want, you can’t help but be nervous as they take their places on either side of your neck, their breath tickling your skin and causing you to squirm. “Relax, sweetheart,” Chan whispers soothingly, his hand coming down to find the one Changbin isn’t holding.

You let out a breath, doing your best to will you heart and nerves to calm; this will change your life forever, but it’s a change you accept wholeheartedly. Once the initial pain subsides, you know they’ll take the utmost care of you, they’ll make it all worth it. You feel their teeth start to prick your skin, their positions on your neck a true mirror of one another– the same placement on either side, marks that will show to the entire world that you have not just one mate, but two.

Chan’s fangs pierce your skin first, causing you to gasp and squeeze at their hands, crying out when Changbin’s own fangs follow shortly behind. It stings, but that initial pain dulls rather quickly, and you’re soon left with only the pleasurable feeling of belonging, of.. love?

Or maybe that's not entirely accurate given how this all came to be, but whatever it is transcends anything you've ever known or experienced in your life thus far. It’s unique, special, new– a fitting description for your newfound relationship, and all the emotions it conjures within you.

Changbin is the first to kiss you when they seperate from your neck– and it's to be expected, he just can't help himself. But possessive though he can be, intentional or otherwise, he pulls away rather quickly, giving Chan his opportunity to kiss you too– because it’s not just him you belong to, and he wants to make it clear that even when he’s clingy, or jealous, or pouty, he’ll never do a single thing to jeopardize what the three of you have together.

He simply hugs you as Chan kisses you, his lips ghosting over the mark he left behind, soothing a sting that no longer exists. You wondered, when you were back at home in your cottage in the clearing, if it was okay to miss them. Was it foolish, did it even make sense to want to see them again?

But you feel you’ve found your answer– you were meant to miss them, were supposed to feel a tug in their direction, were supposed to find them irresistible in every aspect, to desire them with all that you are. They are meant for you, and you for them, and maybe everything up to this point happened the exact way it was supposed to; and now you were truly where you belong.

Though Changbin should keep his hands and lips to himself given that it’s Chan’s turn to have his fun with you, he really can’t help himself. You’re sure Chan notices, as he notices everything when it comes to the both of you, but he doesn’t scold, tease, or pull you away.

As fun as it would be to make you both whine and pout, this is a moment that will never be replicated– to bite someone like this is an act that you hopefully only do once in your lifetime. For the first night of belonging to each other at least, he’ll loosen the reins of his control just a bit for Changbin’s sake.

Chan guides you, and in turn Changbin, to lay back. Changbin's back hits the wall, while yours rests against his chest, where he cups and grabs your breasts from behind, squeezing and playing with them to his heart’s content while Chan continues to kiss you. His tongue slides in your mouth when Changbin’s rolling and pinches of your nipples causes your mouth to open with a moan, Chan’s own hand traveling between your legs, his fingers becoming quickly coated in your slick.

Your body jolts when he rubs your clit, instinctively squirming and avoiding his direct touch– because even though it’s the first time either of them are touching it tonight, you’ve been abusing it all week whilst chasing your (unsuccessful) orgasms. It’s tender, sensitive– and you say so, a tremble in your voice as you try to make Chan understand that the feeling is just too much right now.

“It’s too much?” he questions, and you’d think his tone was one of genuine concern were it not for his smirk giving away that he doesn’t very much care if the feeling is overwhelming you, “but you’re making such pretty sounds for us. And I thought you needed to cum? Isn’t that what you told me?”

“Y-Yes, but–” you start but Chan quickly shushes you, another roll of his fingers making your eyes roll back as you continue to squirm. Your hands instinctively go to his wrists, simply holding them as you know you’d never actually be able to push him away.

“But what? I’m giving you what you wanted, silly girl,” he says with a smile that you’d view as sweet if you didn’t know any better, “you should be thanking me. Go on, tell me ‘thank you’, nice and sweet, ‘kay?” Oh, he’s so mean– and Changbin is no better, because he feels it fair to remind you that apparent cuteness and loss of composure aside, he’s just as much a menace as his elder.

“Yeah, yeah, do it, pretty. We wanna hear it,” he says, close enough to your ear that it makes you shiver and squirm some more, whining in equal parts embarrassment and pleasure. Because even if it is overwhelming, it does still feel good– so good, you can’t help but cry.

“Th-Thank you, thank you,” you say between moans and gasping breaths, your nails digging into Changbin’s thighs now that you’ve released Chan’s wrists from your grasp. “Hmm, are you sure that’s all you wanna say? I think Channie-hyung expects more from you,” Changbin says with a grin you can’t see but can certainly hear.

He’s right, of course, but you have no idea how you’re supposed to string together a coherent sentence with the way they’re coordinating their touches to your body and talking to you. But you have no choice but to do your best, because the alternative is disappointing them, and you would never.

“Thank you– thank you for making me feel s-so good, thank you Channie, Binnie, th-thank you.” Choppy and hardly coherent through your whimpery moans your words may be, they seem satisfactory enough; Chan hums approvingly, and you can feel Changbin’s cock twitch against your back.

“That’s my good girl,” he smiles, increasing the speed of his fingers before he corrects himself, “our good girl.” You squeeze your eyes shut, legs twitching, entire body trembling, though you no longer instinctively squirm away from his fingers– your body has finally accepted it, you suppose. Apart from the tremble and shake in your legs, your body is otherwise limp, accepting of every bit of stimulation they bring you.

You’re close, they both know, but given the circumstances, Chan decides to be kind this time– he can make you beg and cry some more later, for now he should give his good bunny what she needs. “Gonna cum aren’t you, pretty bunny? Go ahead and let go, let us hear it,” Chan says, doing his best to apply more pressure with the pads of his fingers, though how sloppy you are from slick doesn’t make the task entirely effortless– not that he minds, of course; he likes the mess you’ve made between your legs.

You cry as you nod, head falling back against Changbin’s shoulder when his tugs and pinches to your nipples become harsher. You try to warn them before it happens, but you can’t– it hits you so hard that you can’t even utter any further noise, your mouth hanging open in silent cries as your eyes roll back and body tenses and untenses rapidly, gushing and making a further mess of Chan’s fingers and the mattress beneath you.

They both whisper praises in your ears, sweet encouragements and dirty words that further drag out the euphoria you feel. You’re not sure how much time has passed before you open your eyes again, feeling Changbin’s hands rubbing your hips and thighs while Chan strokes your cheeks, smiling sweetly at you, actually sweetly, as your senses return to you.

“There’s our girl,” he says after giving you a quick peck on the lips, “did such a good job, sweetheart.” He strokes your head as Changbin presses sweet kisses to your neck and shoulders, moving his hands from your thighs to wrap his arms around you in a soft hug.

“Channie, fuck me now?” you ask, because as breathless and nearing exhaustion as you are, you’re still eager to feel him inside you, and you won't be truly satisfied until you get another load of cum inside you– his specifically. His smile turns to a grin, his hands coming down to your hips, prepared to move you into whatever position he desires, “Course sweetheart, nights not over until I’m done with you.”

He flips you around effortlessly, Changbin catching you before you fall completely against him. He holds you upright while Chan adjusts the position of your hips, aligning his cock with your hole once he has you how he wants you. Changbin kisses you as Chan slides his way inside your heat slowly, swallowing every little noise that escapes you.

And really, you’re beyond wet and prepped enough for him to go fast if he wants to, but he doesn’t. Not entirely because he wants to tease you (though it does serve that purpose), but because he’s been so on edge this entire time that he’ll cum in record time if he doesn’t, and he’ll die before he lets Changbin last longer than him.

Changbin, who is happy to have your attention again, has his tail thumping excitedly against the mattress. You’re holding onto his shoulders for support as your tongues play together, gasping into his mouth when Chan is finally fully sheathed inside you, his hands digging into your hips whilst still trying to be cautious of his claws and their ability to pierce your delicate skin (though you don’t think you’d particularly mind if they did.)

Changbin brings a hand to one of your ears, stroking the soft fluff and causing you to whimper as you clench around Chan’s cock, earning you a grunt from behind, a clear sign that he felt it. It’s not meant to be a challenge against Chan’s ability to hold out, but he takes it as one– if anyone is going to break and cum fast, it won’t be him.

His hand comes around to your front, grabbing your neck with just enough strength to pull you back towards him. You gasp and whimper, turning your head as much as you can to look at Chan while he holds your neck. “Make our Binnie cum again while I fuck you, and then I’ll let you cum again too. Understand, bunny?”

You nod quickly as Changbin whines and his cock twitches. Our Binnie– he likes the sound of it more than he’d expect. Chan whispers a simple ‘good girl’ in your ear before he lets you go, letting you fall back into Changbin.

Your head lands on his chest, and he intends to lift you up to support you and shift himself into a position that’ll benefit the both of you, but it doesn’t seem you need it– your hands are instantly on his cock, your tiny hands wrapping around and stroking as much as they are able. He groans and grabs your face, lifting it up enough so that he can lean down to kiss you.

Your pace falters when Chan finally starts to roll and thrust his hips, but you do your best to keep steady, determined to perform well and be allowed to cum again. You’re gasping, whimpering, crying as Chan’s pace turns to one you can only describe as purely animalistic– and fair, you admit, given how much self restraint and composure he had to hold until now. The fact that he even went this long before losing it is a herculean feat.

Despite that, he is still firm on the idea that he absolutely will not cum before either of you do, so he reaches around and grabs one of your hands, taking it away from Changbin’s cock and bringing it up instead to one of his twitching ears. “Wanna see our Binnie really lose it? Rub his ear, he’ll go crazy.”

“Hyung–” he opens his mouth to protest as his face starts to flush, seemingly embarrassed that his weak spot is being called out. The complaint dies in his throat however when your fingers softly rub over his ear, a gaspy whine coming out instead as his hips jolt up into the other hand still on his cock.

“Fuck, shit-” he weakly whines while Chan smirks in victory– though the smirk doesn’t last very long, as he truthfully isn’t fairing much better than Changbin in regards to how good you’re making him feel. Maybe in the end, his plan backfired– because each noise that Changbin emits causes you to clench harder; but he still has other ideas in mind to make the two of you cum first.

Chan’s fingers find your clit again, making your body jolt and your hands grip at Changbin harder– on both his poor, sensitive cock and equally sensitive ear. He curses again, eyes rolling back for the second time, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth as his hips once again unconsciously thrusts upward.

It reaches a point where he’s essentially doing all the work, your fist almost entirely still while Changbin fucks your hand. His hands dig into the sheets, almost tearing them as he clenches at the fabric between his fingers. “O-Oh fuck, ’m gonna cum– harder, touch me harder, please–”

Butterflies explode in your stomach, having never expected to hear Changbin beg the way you are usually made to. You do as he asks, you’d never dream otherwise; your fingers grip him harder, squeezing his cock and rubbing harsh circles on the soft ear in your hand. The thump of his tail is erratic, his breaths harsh as his head falls back, cum shooting on your hand and his stomach.

When he opens his eyes and lifts his head, he’s met with the sight of you licking his cum off your hand before your scooping up the mess he made on his stomach with your fingers. You stick them in your mouth, licking them clean and then sticking out your tongue to show him it’s all gone when you’re done, twisting your neck after to show Chan too.

“F-Fuck,” Chan stutters a groan, pulling out long enough to flip you back around, your back hitting the mattress as Changbin moves to the side to watch. “Such a good girl, cleaning him up without having to be asked, should– fuck, should reward you, shouldn’t I?”

But he already promised you could cum if Changbin did, so what’s the next best reward he could give you? “What do you want? Tell me, bunny, and I’ll give it to you,” he decides to simply ask as he slides back into your wet warmth, resuming the harsh pace he’d set before you flipped back around.

“K-Kiss? Can we kiss?” you ask and he chuckles, stroking your cheek as he brings his face close to yours, close enough that your noses are touching and you can feel his breath against you.

“That’s it? That’s all you want?” he asks, unable to suppress the smile when you quickly nod, “Bin’s gonna get jealous, y’know. You’ll have to make it up to him after.” But before you can reply, he’s kissing you, tongue shoving it’s way in your mouth.

Chan’s pace is fast and not entirely accurate, but God, he’s trying– and you perfectly understand, because even with the cool exterior he exudes, you can tell he’s barely been holding it together. He’s utterly gorgeous like this too, sweat dripping and jaw clenched, brows scrunched and veins popping from exertion, pretty lips glossy from your kisses just prior.

He finds your clit once more, desperate to make you cum first, but his fingers are quickly replaced by Changbin’s, allowing him to focus purely on his own pleasure. Chan’s hands grab your legs and keeps them held open, his cock going as deep as it can go.

“So perfect, perfect bunny for us,” Chan grunts as his head falls to your neck, lips ghosting over the mark he made with fangs. Changbin brings his other hand to one of your ears, rubbing the base in the same way you rubbed his, while his fingers on your clit rub in quickly practiced circles. “Yours, ‘m yours and Binnie’s, bunny just for you,” you affirm, body shuddering when Chan groans in response.

He’s close, so fucking close, but you have to cum first– so he closes his eyes and tries to focus on hitting the spot that makes you see stars, working to stave off his release as long as he can possibly can. And he’s successful, Thank God– between his perfect thrusts and Changbin’s fingers, you’re cumming again in no time at all, the wet spot beneath you growing as you drench Chan in your release.

He grunts, thrusts reverting back to their sloppier rhythm as he chases his high, his grip on your thighs sure to leave bruises behind. A string of curses leave him as he finally cums, filling you to the point it leaks even as he’s still fully pressed inside.

Your eyes are closed, heavy with exhaustion, but you hear them talk to each other as they wipe your sweat away and clean you up between your thighs. One of them picks you up, Chan you think, while the one you assume to be Changbin changes the sheets for him, absolutely filthy after the night you just shared.

Tired and not entirely conscious as you are, you still snuggle into the chest of the one holding you, and it’s confirmed it’s Chan when you hear him chuckle and whisper something about you being “sweet and cute.” You tiredly whine when you’re put back down, eyes still closed but missing the warmth you were enveloped in, and hear them once again chuckle before you feel them on both sides, pressed against them in the middle.

With a struggle, you blink awake, body heavy and eyes still impossibly tired, the darkness surrounding you making it near impossible to tell what time it is. It's clear you're still in their den, and wolves dens are always dark given their nocturnal nature.

You're laying on your back, you realize, Changbin’s arm slung over your stomach while Chan, who is also apparently awake, is stroking your head as he looks at you. “You didn’t sleep?” you ask quietly and he shakes his head, whispering his reply back to you.

“It’s still the middle of the night, sweetheart. We never sleep at night– but well, after what you did to Changbin, he was out as soon as he got comfortable next to you. Couldn’t stay awake even if he wanted to.” You quietly giggle, turning your head to catch a peek at him. He looks cute, peaceful– you give him a soft peck on his cheek before you turn your attention back to the awake Chan.

“He’d lose it if he was awake during that, y’know. He loves cute shit like that,” he says and you smile– you can tell, it’s obvious; Changbin is a bit of an open book, you think. “What about you?” you ask and he scoffs a little, turning his gaze away as a slight smile peeks out on his lips.

“Course. I just don’t make it as obvious as that idiot. Seriously, we have a reputation to maintain.” You peck his cheek, and he scoffs again, trying to hide the growing smile and retain the cool image. “Don’t start– you’re gonna make me as bad as him.”

“Is it going to be morning soon..?” you ask as you lower your head back to the pillows. “It will be in a couple hours,” he replies, turning back to you with a more serious expression, “you need to go back home, yeah? Can’t stay here?”

You frown as you nod, a strange feeling of loneliness filling your gut at the idea of leaving them behind to go back to your cottage. “Grandmother needs me..” you tell him and he hums in understanding, careful not to expose the ache in his chest that you’ll be parting soon– whether that’s courtesy of the mating bite or if it’s feelings he’d have regardless he can’t entirely tell.

“We’ll figure something out. Just get some more rest for now, okay? I’ll be right here.” You nod and close your eyes, relaxing further when you feel him start to stroke your head again. When you shift slightly for comfort, Changbin instinctively holds you tighter; even in his sleep, he has to make sure you’re close.

There’s a lot you’ll have to confront come morning, but you decide to follow Chan’s words and leave it until then. You lay one of your hands atop the one Changbin has resting on your stomach, and use your other to touch Chan, humming happily when he brings his own over to hold it.

For now, you’ll fall back to sleep, you’ll indulge in the safe comfort you feel while sandwiched between their bodies, holding their hands, secure in the knowledge that even though your life will be drastically different from now, it’s what will make you happiest. A bunny and her two bad wolves, who aren’t actually as bad as they seem– this is where you belong.

#i tried to give them equal attention but my bin bias may have come thru dgsdfg i'm sorry !!!#skz x reader #bang chan x reader #changbin x reader #skz smut #bang chan smut #changbin smut #werewolf au #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz fanfic #mdni + divider graphic credit: @cafekitsune

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akanemnon · 5 months ago

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HAAAAAAAY AKANE :3

How are you?? (Gosh, more ppl should ask you that, you're a human afterall)

On the 1st is my bday :3

BUT

I got a silly gift for you :3

You're even invited to my bday

You'll get a piece of (digital TwT) cake :3

And a special message.

I don't care if you won't see that post.

I just want you to know :3

PLUS GENUINE ASK (actually asking smt this time ha)

Would you rather:

Have no more chocolate for the rest of your life.

Spoil the entirety of Twin Runes/ The Other Script.

Chose wisely.

Okay and another question bcz you're good at writing (I guess, I mean you make some VERY GOOD comics)

How do you think I should traumatize someone that got possessed by someone that wants to kill her friends and bf? (I need a bit of ideas and I'm in need of an expert in writing)

Sorry, I can't be serious for five seconds.

In my defense your honor, I'm a silly goose. 🪿

Btw what's your opinion on Murder Drones?

I saw it two weeks ago and it got me hooked.

If you didn't watch it, I'm recommending it!!! :3

Sorry for the long ask.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

As for your question(s) 1) I'm actually not the biggest fan of chocolate (I prefer savory over sweet flavors). I still like it, but I'm not crazy about it. So I gottta go with no chocolate for the rest of my life. Sorry for everyone who wanted to be spoiled lol.

2) When it comes to writing drama and trauma, it's always a save bet to go for something that is a character's sore spot. Something that is already a part of the character itself. People always say I'm traumatizing these characters, though what I use for the story are plot and character details that were already established in some way in the games theselves (or through some other means). I'm not conjuring anything up out of thin air. As an example:

For Frisk I used their past attempted No Mercy Run (which is something you just can do in the game)

For Ralsei I used his fear of the Roaring and his need of the Player (as seen at the end of Chapter 2 and how he tries to guide the Player through Kris)

For Susie I used her past bullying antics against Kris (as seen in Noelle's blog post)

And well Chara... Chara is kind of self-explainatory at this point.

Kris' sore spot(s) are tackled ALL throughout the comic itself (the fear of being replaced, the fear of inadequacy, the fear of losing control...) It all ties into their relationship with the Player that you can already gather from the two Chapters we have.

3) I have not watched Murder Drones. Never really had the time for it.

#ask #ask akane #queued post

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sugar-plum-writer · 5 months ago

Text

Sanctified Azure <3

Tags: Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader; Size-kink; Overstimulation; Unprotected Sex; Religious themes; Manhandling; Rough sex; Cream pie; Pussy drunk Gojo; improper use of Holy Water; MNDI (18+); Who knew Gojo could go more feral?; Possessive Gojo; Smut; NSFW + NSFW; Established relationship; intense sex

A/n: I think this might be one of the most original ideas I've ever come up with when it comes to execution of the plot; really I even surprised myself! Periods really do switch something in the brain huh? 50/50 aka 50% plot & 50% porn all things balanced as they should be~

Synopsis: What happens when your boyfriend gets possessed and fucking him to exorcise him is the only way to get rid of the demon? How feral can he get?

Word count: 4.8k

The curtains of darkness enveloped the room as the walls were crawling with shadows grinning. A single candle illuminated the living room as it sat- its flame flickering eager on what would unfold tonight.

Was this a good idea? Probably not. You had warned your boyfriend Satoru 1000 times that you got bad vibes from that shady store. How he should stay away from that store, and not get involved with it.

But here you are sitting with him- in your and his living room. A crooked pentagon is drawn in the middle with white chalk, some shady-looking book at its center with god knows what language it is written in. White candles all over the room which now reminded you of a scene from the horror movie "Conjuring 2" which is clearly not a good sign.

"Satoru are we really doing this?", You look at him dead in the eyes annoyed.

"Just trust me! I am the strongest sorcerer alive baby~", he smirked- oh how that stupid smirk annoyed you- you really wanted to wipe it off his face.

"Gojo I don't know- this is giving me bad vibes…this…do you even know what's written here?", taking a sharp breath you point at the book.

"Well", he chirped opening his phone, "I used Google Translate baby~ trust me I got this!", proudly he stuck his phone in front of your face with a smug expression.

It was a broken translation with messed up symbols. The pages had ink wiped off, so what did it say again? Beelzebub? Who the hell is he?

Squinting your eyes you tried to make sense of whatever jargon was written in it, "Gojo what the fuck is this? It makes no sense"

"The spell!", he chirped again smiling brightly like a kid who just got candy.

..Silence…

Is he serious right now?

You look at him dumbstruck, how the hell is someone supposed to read weird ancient symbols!?

As if on cue reading your mind he smirked, "I found a YouTube tutorial on Google on how to read it by a guy called- "Satanic Rituals 101!"

You all are going to die today, aren't you?

Your only assurance being is him being the strongest sorcerer and hoping he can hollow purple the demon or whatever is going to crawl out of that shitty Pentagon.

…..

It took some time as Gojo tried to recite whatever he learned from this "Satanic Rituals 101" guy. Which clearly sounded like a Quotev or Buzzfeed account making "Which witch you are?" quizzes from the mid-late 2000's, which you definitely did not spend countless hours doing together with your friends

At first, you thought- more specifically- hoped that the ritual would fail because dealing with a demon is the last thing you want on a Saturday night.

With a huff, you sat with him in the crooked Pentagon as he recited the spell and screeched.

It was all shits and giggles- after all no way this was real? right? right? until the air in the room froze- the temperature felt 20 degrees lower.

Each breath turns into whisps of smoke freezing in front of your eyes- while the clock ticked behind you- it is eerily quiet- the type of quietness that is minutes before the disaster, your guts and mind were telling you to run out but your body was frozen in fear- none of your muscles were listening.

"G-Gojo?", you whispered shakily clutching the hem of your top till your knuckles turned white from fear

"Yeah what is it?", he whispered near your ears causing you to freak out.

"What the fuck!? Don't do that! This is not funny anymore!", you rolled your eyes and faced him.

"Aww really? I am having a lot of fun though", he grinned as he leaned in; face inches away from yours- piercing eyes looking into yours.

"Can you be serious for once Satoru! You just saw what happened! I am freaking out alright!?", with a sigh you bit your lip looking away not wanting to look at him

"Why are you scared? You are being pathetic right now baby girl~", he murmured in a dark tone as his warm breath tickled your ears sending chills down your spine before stepping back

"Y-You have the audacity! Gojo Satrou you better-", fuming with anger you looked into his eyes and were met with his eyes tinted red freezing you in your tracks.

Oh shit- OH SHIT- you've fucked up big time

The realization slowly but surely was sinking in, the man in front of you was not your boyfriend anymore but rather a demon who's possessed him

"Y…You aren't Gojo…", stumbling back your body shook- blood pumping hard in your veins sending a rush of heat to your cheeks.

This can't be happening!?

"I am him? What are you talking about love~ you really must be freaked out huh cupcake?~", smirking cockily with hands in his pocket he walked towards you, each step slow and deliberate

"S-Shut up! Gojo would never call me pathetic!"

"Gojo? I am Gojo but I just did that~ what are you going to do about it hm? I am Gojo don't you realize", he leaned in his hot breath on your lips.

At this point, you were cornered- no way out how the hell are you supposed to deal with a demon!? Jujutsu High did not have a manual on it! shit

"You are not!", You hurled your cursed energy toward him punching him in the guts with all your strength- a punch strong enough to have grade-2 curses flying back. To your shock he stood there unfazed.

"How…annoying", with a sigh he locked his eyes with yours, "To think humans developed this huh? Too bad it does not work on me much", with a shrug he grabbed your wrist pulling you close

"You better behave little lamb- unless you want to die", with a slam you were pinned against the wall hands on the sides of your head, "I tried to be nice you know? You just had to not listen- why so disobedient? little dove?", with a frown he grabbed your jaw forcing you to look at him

"You better behave if you want your precious boyfriend alive", licking his lips, "It's been a while since I've tasted human flesh", he whispered eyes darkened with lust.

"You are mine from now on little lamb- you've got a new boyfriend now"

He crashed his lips against yours. …..

The air was full of tension- one wrong move and you are dead meat- your mind was racing with what to do- how the hell do you deal with this? Will searching on WikiHow help? Do they have a tutorial on how to deal with demons? Or how to help your demon possessed boyfriend?

Hell, if it was a curse you would have exorcised it but a demon how do you deal with that?

They say humans when pushed to the brink of their limits do something insane without thinking straight; the rush of adrenaline causes the brain to shift to survival mode. And whatever you did next was not done rationally.

You kissed the demon back

"Hah…", you gazed into the now blue eyes tinted red, "I am gonna get my boyfriend back one way or the other…I'll exorcise you dipshit!", grabbing the collar you glared earning a dark chuckle.

"Oh really? are you? Your boyfriend is now gone~ I have taken over his body little dove- how will you get him back hm?", intrigued the demon kissed your neck chomping down and leaving marks.

"Like…this", the moment the words left your lips you grabbed him by the hair lifted his head, and kissed him deeply tasting him, "Gojo", you whispered between kisses, "You going to let some nobody fuck your dick into me? You called yourself the strongest…you gonna be cuckloaded by yourself huh?"

"You not gonna come and fuck me yourself? All talk were you?", as you continued to spew out whatever came to your head as you kissed him that's when something changed- the energy in the room got more tense.

"Fuck...baby girl", a raspy voice was heard- the familiar tone made your eyes widen, the eyes were now flickering between red and blue, "As if- I am letting this jackass fuck you", sweat dripped down from his forehead to the tip of his chin, chest heaving up and down-

"Gojo!", you cupped his face shakily looking into the now semi-blue and red eyes.

"This demon- hah…to think I'd get possessed how annoying", he grunted with his grip getting tighter around your waist

"It's taking every ounce of my willpower to fight this dipshit...can't let him fuck that cunt eh?", he smirked as he panted with his face flushed.

The way he looked right now- you know it's irrational but- he looked hot; the sweat dripping making his T-shirt cling to his body, shaping the muscles out, and oh his eyes- his eyes so dark and focused- blending between red and blue a beautiful hypnotic gaze- voice raspy- god

What the fuck? Don't possessed people look like shit in movies why does he look so hot!?

"Hah…", as he panted his breath brushed past your lips making your knees weak, "Fuck this shit- I regret this huh?", chuckling weakly he gazed into your eyes

Snapping back to reality you looked at him, "Finally! See I am never wrong! Ugh-", you snapped at him, "What to do! What to do!"

That's when the flickering stopped and the eyes were red again-

"Retard…to think a mere man managed to overpower me- insane bastard", the demon chuckled darkly, "how intriguing- this is a first- to think you hold so much power over this man- that mere words brought his consciousness back?", looking into your eyes he lifted your chin.

"I am going to enjoy this game~", with a swift movement he ripped off your top and bra off

"WHAT THE FUCK!", You screamed scrambling to cover yourself with your hands

"My you scream quite loud for a little lamb- I wonder if I can make you scream louder~", grinning as if riled up by the scent of fear oozing off you the demon was going feral.

He dug his nails into your hips biting down your neck.

'Fuck', you thought to yourself- that's when an idea struck you- holy water- you gotta get holy water! You made sure to get some when Gojo told you about this plan of his first

With a swift movement, you grabbed the holy water kept on the table and poured it over yourself- soaking yourself in it.

The demon screeched as burn marks appeared all over his hands and body- a sizzling sound could be heard from the skin.

"You bitch! You sure got the guts-", glaring at you the eyes of the demon went from red to dark crimson- shit this is bad, "You think you are all that huh?", cutting off your thought process the demon yanked you by the hair boring his eyes into yours

"Holy water- fuck it…even if it hurts the more you fight the more I want you! Rarely has anyone able to do this me", sneering he kissed you

Disgusted you headbutt him catching him a bit off off guard before grabbing the other bottle of holy water; drinking it and forcefully kissing the demon-

His throat burned as he tried to push you off- it was all too much- this is insanity

"Kiss me now you son of a bitch!", you bite his lip forcing the holy water down his throat.

Now this is some crazy exorcism, isn't it?

"Ugh…it's bitter", with a grunt the familiar hazy blue eyes looked into yours, "Damn…my throat hurts- it feels like I drank hot boiling water", coughing Gojo pulled away looking into your eyes- the red was a lot less now.

"Gojo!", tears streamed down your eyes as you hugged him, "Finally! You bastard I hate you!", you sobbed causing him to chuckle.

"I love you too sweetheart~", he kissed you gently before his eyes darkened seeing your appearance.

Half naked- bite marks of the demon on your neck- nail marks on your hips were pissing him off- the messy hair- the scent of holy water on your skin.

How dare he touch what belongs to him?

"He did this- ", biting his lip Gojo pinned you against the wall kissing your neck and leaving bite marks over the bite marks of the demon.

He was feeling extremely possessive right now- you were his- so what if it was a demon? you were his and his alone- heart and soul- after all he'd die for you

Caught off guard by the action you gasp, "G-Gojo! Come back to your senses! god damn it!", you looked into his eyes- blue tinted with red- never have you seen him look so possessive- so feral

It was chilling- yet it made your heart race.

"How can I?- do you know the rage that I am feeling right now?", he whispered darkly- voice thick with tension and cursed energy going batshit crazy- shattering all the glass of windows

"Doll- you are mine and I don't share what's mine", lifting your chin his thumb brushed against your lower lip; the intensity between you two continued to increase to unprecedented levels.

"We gotta get rid of this demon! fuck me later alright?", you blushed slapping his hand away

"Right….", he paused realizing this demon is preventing him from fucking you right now- damn possession really prevents you from getting laid huh?

Taking a deep breath you looked into his eyes- which were still swirling between red and blue, his jaw tight because of the amount of willpower he was using to keep the demon at bay.

"We need to exorcise it out of you…", you sighed.

"Well, how do we do that? I am sure if I lose focus for even 0.1 seconds right now this demon will take over again- I don't want to hurt you nor do I want the demon to use limitless or any of my techniques", grimly he crossed his arms.

"Cursed energy does not exorcise it or else we could have contacted other sorcerers to help out…", annoyed he let out a frustrated sigh.

You are both stuck with what to do that's when an insane idea entered your head- the holy water when you poured it over yourself made the demon back away, and kissing it with holy water also worked- seeing the way it is going- what if- you fucked the demon decked in holy water out of him?

It's never been done before- and it's insane- but; it might just work

"Gojo", deciding to wing it you look into his intense eyes, "Let's fuck", you blurt you making him choke on air.

"W-what? You want to…fuck right now?", he carefully worded out the sentence to make sure he did not hear it wrong.

"Yeah- let's fuck"

Your shameless way of speaking- damn- it was doing things to him- fuck possession really prevents you from fucking because right now all he wanted to do was fuck your brains out

…..

Your idea well it sounded insane to him- this is crazy- literally; it made sense as well- kissing the demon with holy water clearly worked to bring him back for so long- but to fuck you like that?

You decked all in Holy water naked- kissing him with your sweet lips as the bitter taste of holy water burned down his throat; dribbling between both your lips- drops of it slipping down your skin into the most sinful areas imaginable- coating it in a glossy sheen; stinging the hickies he'd leave- your eyes glossy as you moaned begging him. Something about fucking decked in holy water was sending him places.

Imagination was going wild

It was so unholy yet felt so holy

The Holy water ought to purify and cleanse people of their sins, making them untainted forgiving all their sins yet- you decked in holy water was for him to taint you all over again; consume you again and again

Fuck- he's hard

"Doll- are you sure about this?- I don't think I can control myself once we start", wrapping his hands around your waist he brushed his fingers over the marks left by the demon- glancing at the bra and top he'd ripped off- he was jealous- he wanted to be the one to rip it off of you why did the demon get the do that?

He's annoyed- not because he's possessed but because he was not the one to rip it off of you, sure it was his body which the demon was trying to use to fuck you but still its not fair. He really had his priorities straight even when possessed

"I am sure- 'toru- but; will you be able to keep your consciousness? This is going to get intense", wrapping your arms around his neck you whispered concerned seeing how close the demon was to taking over him again

"Hah! As if I'd let this cunt and pussy be fucked by someone else- only I get to stuff it the way I want with my dick", smirking he pulled you closer.

"Don't worry about me- just start baby- I can handle a little possession"

On cue, you soon pour the remaining bottles of holy water all over yourself- water droplets trailing down your curves into the little crevices dripping down your thighs and nipples soaking you

God's grace decking it's love in shimmering and holiest trails, a sanctum for in defiles to witness divinity- is this why men wage wars to witness heaven?

Looking into your eyes as you stood in front of him- so seductive

His mind was swirling with emotions and all the things he wanted to do to you right now seeing you like this. He never thought he could desire you more than he already did- yet here he was- wanting more.

You were like an angel purifying yourself before being consumed by the devil himself- and at this point, he loved being the devil if it meant he got to taste your flesh

Today he was going to be baptized into being admitted into the form of church exclusive to him- You

…..

Crashing his lips against yours- while the demon and he fought for dominance was intense; you were gasping for air while he did not give you any room to breathe.

Groping and touching you all over, fingers flicking your nipples and pinching them as he kissed down your neck- the stimulation was intense.

The burning sensation on his skin stung him badly but the pleasure he was feeling was too great to think of the pain- to think one day he would be fighting being possessed with a demon on being the one to fuck you.

Who would have thought?

"G-Gojo….s-slow down a bit", you gasped as he mercilessly chomped down your skin leaving his marks, "I am not- not today…hah…", biting his lip to maintain consciousness he continued to become even more intense as he left even more marks- digging his nails on your hips.

The Holy water was so bitter- Every inch of his skin was burning as it came to contact with yours, he was on fire- the pain was too much yet it was lust that clouded his mind- he just could not get enough

Tasting the holy water of your lips burned his throat but it felt so right- the pain- the pleasure- the need to focus on fucking you- using RCT to constantly heal the burns- flickering in and out of consciousness with the demon- this was the most intense sex session ever; he felt like he was giving it his all- he was giving his soul to the devil right now

Your body decked in holy water was like salvation for him- if this is what salvation is like- he'd get possessed every second of his life.

Today the phrase, "God is a Woman" made sense because fuck- He's worshiping you right now.

Biting, kissing you all over, his hands leaving fingerprints everywhere in their wake setting your skin on fire; at this point, he's forgotten he's possessed and just kept going- warm tongue gliding over your sensitive skin and sucking on the hickies coating it.

Kisses trailed down your neck to your belly and stomach before burying his face between your legs nose deep- legs wrapped around his neck as he held you pinned against the wall- lapping at your cunt like a dog in heat

The stimulation was too much- he's never been this rough, your pussy was drenched wet as moan after moan spilled out your lips.

"Ah…hah! Gojo 'tis too much- I-I can't!", gasping with tears streaming down your eyes you dug your nails over his shoulders and arched your back desperately holding onto him

"Give it to me baby- cum f'me- I'm gonna teach this demon who owns this cunt", he said in a mumble and daze as his mouth was too busy lapping and drinking your sweet nectar- he was pussy drunk- you tasted more delicious than ever; the bitter holy water on your cunt mixed with your pre-cum made it hard for him to stop.

How could he? He was in heaven right now drinking immortal wine

Eyes rolling back you went over the edge- cumming on his tongue while he drank it all up like it was a sacred fountain of youth- helping you ride off your high

"Fuck baby…you taste so good...", looking into your eyes darkened with such pure primal desire- he was long gone- all he wanted to do right now was just ram his dick into you.

Even if he was beyond redemption- he'd never let the demon fuck you

Still panting and coming down from your high breathless- legs shaking you gazed at him with your glossy eyes and face flushed.

You really felt your consciousness fading- this intensity was unlike you've ever experienced before- sure bondage was intense when you and Gojo were fucking- but this was a whole'nother level of intense

So fucked up, so needy and wet all for him- damn was he really drinking holy water off your skin or was it aphrodisiac?

Without warning he put you in a mean mean mating press against the wall startling you before ramming his dick into your poor gushing cunt- damn he really was not gonna give you even 0.1 second to adjust- cock twitching against your tight walls making you see stars- it felt way too good. You could feel his dick pulsing- the veins- he filled you up so good

Your cunt was gobbling him up choking on his dick- trying to push him out but he was just too big. You felt like a lamb to slaughter- words were slurring- your body was numb at this point; tingly sensations went from your cunt to the tip of your toes and fingers- brain sent to over drive

This was the first time you actually felt the danger- such intense pleasure beyond comprehension, but, gods be dammed it was a feeling so euphoric you want it again- you want to go higher

The way your walls clenched around him so tight- holding onto him as if to never let go- he really felt his dick melting in your cunt- feeling like it was going to be snapped off him; tilting his head back he felt his brain going more numb the only thought he had in his head was to fill your pretty and perfect sobbing cunt with his cum and so he did that

He started to move in and out- in and out- in an unrelenting pace- god he hit all your g-spots so well with each thrust; filling your pussy up with his dick so well- so deep

Only moans and whines could spill out of your mouth, tears covered your face- you did not even remember if you were in reality or fantasy.

He kept going mercilessly and at this point you did not even remember how many times you cummed on his thick cock- feeling your walls hold onto him tighter made him finally go over the edge- with a last thrust he put his dick in deep- hitting your womb making sure to fill you up damn fucking well- after all You were his and seeing his cum dribble out of you was something he loved to see

Both of you exhausted from the intense fucking just collapse on top of each other and lay on the floor.

…..

The sun rays poured in the morning brushing past the curtains and illuminating the room with its warmness- coating everything in a warm sheen as light reflected off of the surfaces. The calmness of the world was a stark contrast to the mess that was the living room from the night before

The crooked chalk pentagon still on the floor, the shady book in the center- bottles of holy water littered all over the floor- ripped clothes which were more like rags scattered across the floor- glasses from the windows still cover the corner of the floor; if anyone saw this it would be very hard to explain what happened

Laying and hugging him with his arms wrapped around your waist and keeping you close was quite an oxymoron compared to the living room- the sunlight blanketed you and him with its rays as if giving a gentle nudge to two lovers to wake up knowing the moon witnessed all the secrets of lovers intertwined at night.

"Hmmm…", hazily Gojo woke up from his sleep and sat up glancing at you and seeing all the marks and fingerprints painting every inch of your skin hit him like a ton of bricks remembering the insanity which was the previous night.

"Baby?", cooing at you softly he pulled you close to him, "Are you alright?", looking at you with his puppy eyes he nuzzled his face on the crook of your neck- inhaling the scent.

"my back…it's completely gone", you whined sleepily about the sharp pain and ache you felt all over your body damn only now do you realize how intense was last night.

Smirking he caressed and traced your spine straddling you on his lap and earning a slap on his wrist, "Where do you think your hands are going huh? I have not forgiven you for getting me involved in this shit!", pouting you glared at him which in his eyes only made you look cuter.

"Ouch! Sorry baby- I really won't get shady books from that store anymore", humming his squeezed your thighs making you squirm, "Though- I really wanna fuck like that again ya know? You looked so hot taking me so well decked in holy water", whispering near your ears in a deep voice sent shivers up and down your spine annoying you at the same time.

"Hmph as if! Are you crazy!?", blushing you flicked his forehead, "Awww so mean~ baby girl!", dramatically he covered his face, "Ugh…", you sighed seeing him being the droopy golden retriever

How can he be so hot and fuck you like a ragdoll and then act like this- as if he could do no wrong; as if he is such an innocent guy. It really made you wonder just what goes on in his brain.

But low-key no wait scratch that- high-key you'd like to see him like that again looking so feral- the gaze, the raspy voice just thinking about it made your stomach do flip flops- as long you two fuck the demon out of him- does it matter?

Seeing your expression he knew he had you exactly where he wanted- he knew you were as much of an insane person just as he was, "So~ is someone into it huh?", grinning he licked one of the hickies on your neck from last night making goosebumps spread across your skin.

"I-I'm not…", you whisper with your face red, "Really…then why is she so wet huh?", smirking he caressed your cunt circling the clitoris and smacking it sending waves of pleasure down your body, "T'Toru!", you whined- it stung so much yet it made you so wet, "What baby~?", he cooed and flicked his finger making you gasp, "I-…I….I'll think about it", coughing not wanting to admit your own arousal at the thought of fucking again like last night you averted eyes.

"Alright~", grinning he licked the outer shell of your ears kissing you hard

"I'll be waiting", humming satisfied you both cuddled together.

But don't let your guard down yet after all the greatest trick the devil ever played was convincing the world he did not exist- and will hit you at your least vulnerable

Better stock up on holy water who knows when the devil will hit you again? After all with the kind of person Gojo was you doubt this would be your last rodeo.

Here is a link to my Masterlist! Thanks for reading~ Meal is served my lovely followers <3 sorry for being gone for so long~

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