#and i wrote nearly 5k of awful smut

[babybluebex]

retribution pt.1 [charles blackwood smut]

➽ pairing: dark!stepfather!charles blackwood x fem!reader (y/n) ➽ word count: 4.9k ➽ summary: after charles marries your mother to gain a massive fortune, he realizes that he married the wrong woman, and he sets his sights on the real heiress: you.  ➽ warnings: NSFW/MDNI. explicit language, smut, thigh-riding, oral (f!receiving), power dynamics, step!cest, masturbation, yandere/obession (i think??), daddy kink, breeding kink, slapping, mentions of murder/suicide ➽ a/n: i know that is different than what i usually post, but charles blackwood just... hmmm he grinds my gears in the best way. so, enjoy! masterlist/taglist in bio (and the sequel will be soon!)

From the very moment you laid eyes on Charles Blackwood, you loathed him. There was something about him physically that turned you off of him. Maybe it was the way his hair was just too perfectly done, the caramel highlights too pretty to be natural. Maybe it was the way his cologne filled your head, dark and lovely, but too masculine, like he was making up for something. Or maybe it was the smile that graced his pink and pouty lips when your mother introduced him to you as her husband. 

It had hardly been a year since your father had passed, and you had no idea just how your mother could move on as quickly as she did. It had torn you up in a way that nothing else quite had. You had always been closer to your father than your mother and, when he got sick, you were left to bear the weight of what was happening. You went to visit him at the hospital alone and sat with him and read to him, and you held his hand as the nurses carefully turned off his machines. You guess that it was worth it, though; you found out that your father had altered his will and now, instead of his money being left to your mother, it was left to you. The only condition was that you had to get married to receive the money, going back to a conversation many years ago where your father tried to convince you not to go to university, telling you that the life of a wife and a mother would suit you better. You said that you would think about it. 

“You’re not my dad,” you told Charles Blackwood. You expected him to be cross or maybe even hurt by your insistence upon that, but he smirked, as if he had expected that sort of answer. “I’m not gonna call you that.” 

“Aw, that’s alright, honey,” Charles said, and he pressed his hand to your mother’s shoulder to stop her from scolding you. “I didn’t think you would. That’s awful, what happened to him. I’m really sorry about that.” 

So casual, the way he talked about your father’s death. As if it was nothing more to you than a bad exam grade. You cried that night, locked up in your room, wanting Charles gone already. He was in the kitchen when you went in in the morning, sitting at the table, reading the newspaper, and whistling. He had the glow of a recently-spent man about him, and you internally sneered at the thought of him fucking your mother. “Hey, you,” he said, putting the paper down. “Let’s have a talk, huh?” 

You glared at him, but sat down at the table all the same. You dug your thumbs into your orange and raised your eyebrows expectantly at him, and Charles pursed his lips. “I want you to know something,” he said. “I love your mom, right? And I have no interest in being your new dad or whatever. But I expect you to treat me with a little bit of respect, not any of… This.” He waved his finger at you, obviously talking about your current abhorrent pose. “I may not be your dad, but I’m still paying the bills and paying for you to go to university. So you’re gonna treat me like you fucking worship the ground I walk on. Got it, honey?” 

“And what do I get outta this?” you grumbled. 

“You get to keep living here,” Charles said. “You still get all that money that your father left your mother when he died. I don’t see what else you need.” 

You scoffed. “Right,” you whispered. “‘Cause you only care about money. Well, Chuck, that’s fucking hysterical, that you think I’m even remotely like you. I can see past dollar signs and see what people are actually about. Anyway, I could care less about your money. I’ve got my own.” 

“Doing what?” Charles asked with a dismissive laugh. “Waitressing?” 

“You wish,” you sneered. “Mother didn’t get any money from Father.”

“All that money?” Charles asked slowly. “Where the hell did it go?” 

“Into my trust fund,” you said highly, and you watched Charles’s blue eyes widen. “I have every cent of my father’s. All I have to do is get married, and me and my husband can fuck off, away from you.” 

Charles stuttered for a moment, then said, “Let me get this straight. Your father left every red dime to his kid and not his wife? And you can only access it if you get married?”

“I told him that I wasn’t getting married,” you explained. “This is his twisted way of guaranteeing that I tie the knot at some point; soon, I guess. But congratulations, Chuck. Welcome to the family.” 

As you stood up from your place, Charles’s hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, and you yelped. His grip was strong, veins in his hand exposing themselves, and his jaw was set with a rising anger. You could see the red flush in his chest and neck, and, as pleased as you wished you were, you were frightened by him. Your father had never grabbed you like that before. Nobody had. “What did I say about a little goddamn respect?” Charles asked through gnashed teeth, and he twisted his hand, pulling your skin and making you cry out in pain. “You don’t call me Chuck. You call me Charles, or Father, or fucking nothing.” 

“Let go of me, you fucking bastard,” you hissed. 

Charles’s face was red now, and he lashed out and struck you across the cheek. Before you even had time to cry out, he had you by the chin, forcing you to look at him. “Go to your room,” he told you. “Next time I see you, if this fucking attitude isn’t fixed, you’re gonna be really sorry. You hearing me, honey?” 

You nodded, using every ounce of your self control to not burst into tears on the spot. You cursed him in your head, wishing for him to leave you and your mother alone. You wanted him gone, maybe even dead. Certainly nowhere near you or your mother anymore. Charles stared at you, watching you, making sure of your compliance, then he let go of your face and tugged you close to his body by your wrist. Confusion overtook you as he hugged you, but then it made sense when you heard the floorboard in the hallway creak. “I know you miss him,” Charles said, quiet but certainly loud enough for your mother to hear from the hallway. “And I can’t be him, but I’ll try my best. Alright, honey?” 

He sent a quick pinch to your tender wrist, and you finally let out your caged sobs. “Hey, hey,” Charles said, shushing you in what could be mistaken for comfort. “No need for crying, little one. I’m here for you.” 

When you finally tore yourself from Charles, he looked happy. The anger was gone from his face, and he smiled at you. “‘Morning, lovely,” he said to your mother, and he stepped around you to embrace your mother and kiss her cheek. 

“What’s going on?” your mother asked, looking at you worriedly. 

“Having a little heart-to-heart,” Charles said softly. “Said she missed her father, and I told her that I’ll try my hardest to be there for her.” 

“Aw,” your mother cooed and placed a kiss on Charles’s lying lips. “You’re too good to us.”

That conversation seemed to change something between you and Charles. He was still an asshole when your mother wasn’t looking, but you knew not to tell her. She wouldn’t believe it, and it would inevitably just mean more trouble for you. However, there was suddenly something more with Charles. He seemed charming, as always, but you sensed something sinister underneath it. You knew that he was only after your father’s money, and he was now stuck with your mother when it was you who had all the money. You knew that he was mad at marrying the wrong woman, but he couldn’t do anything about it now, and the thought that your presence vexed him as much as he did you pleased you. 

Except, as you found out one night, Charles still could do something. 

It was still dark outside your window when you heard your bedroom door creak open. You liked to sleep with it closed, and you brushed it off as the house shifting as it settled. Your clock said that it was five in the morning, and you nearly got up to close your door back, but you smelled him first. Fresh from his morning shower, cologne still potent, Charles lingered in the doorway to your room before stepping in. You squinted your eyes to try to see what Charles was doing, but still trying to act asleep, and you watched him cross to your dresser, across from your bed. He carefully opened drawer after drawer, obviously hunting for something specific, and your heart dropped when he crouched to the bottom drawer and his hands came up to brush back his hair. 

Your heart burned with hate and disgust as you watched your mother’s husband, your stepfather, pull out a pair of your panties. You had done laundry just two days earlier and hadn’t worn them yet, and you watched as Charles pressed the bundle of cotton to his face. After a moment, he stood up, your panties in his fist, and you quickly closed your eyes to feign sleep as Charles approached the bed. You felt his presence right by your face, felt his eyes watching you as you slept, and he whispered, “Fuck, little one...”. Then, you heard the zipper on his pants. Through your eyelashes, you watched Charles press his half-hard cock into his fist and begin to stroke himself, rubbing himself with your panties. He slotted his bottom lip between his teeth as he masturbated, watching you as you “slept”. “So fuckin’ pretty… Gonna be mine.” 

You tasted acidic hate in your mouth, but you couldn’t make yourself confront him. To your knowledge, nobody had ever masturbated to the thought of you before. There was a tiny part of you that liked that Charles was so hung up on you, even if the dominating part of your brain told you how sick it was. Anyway, you hardly wanted to interrupt him and stop an orgasm and give him yet another reason to hate you. 

Charles’s cheeks went red in the dim light of the room as his fist moved faster. Your panties were bunched around his cock, flushed and nestled there like it belonged, and you closed your eyes fully. You didn’t want to see him come. You didn’t want to know what he looked like. You moved slightly, adjusting your legs under the blankets, and Charles let out a quiet little grunt. “One day…” he mumbled to himself. “Gonna be mine… All that’s gonna be mine.” 

His breath caught in his throat, and you heard the wet squelch as his cum coated your panties. Charles stood for a moment, watching you, feeling his cock soften in his hand, and he finally sniffed and stuffed the used panties into his pocket. He tilted his head as he continued to examine you and the way you gave little noises as you slept, and he smiled. Oh yes, he thought as he brushed a bit of hair from your cheek. You would make a good wife. 

Later that day, you were absently wandering around the house. It was too hot to do anything outside comfortably, but you definitely didn’t want to be around Charles or your mother for the moment. Even though you hadn’t seen anything that Charles had done, his grunts and hisses were enough for you to know that he enjoyed his time in your room that morning. You had yet to find your panties, and your stomach roiled when you wondered if he still had them in his pocket. 

Your stepfather called your name from across the house, and your heart dropped. As you made your way to his office, you decided to play with him in the worst way possible. If he was going to haunt you and make you miserable, you were going to do just the same. Charles was leaned back in his desk chair when you got there, smoking from his pipe. His tie was loose, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his gelled hair coming a bit undone. He looked stressed, and perhaps a little anxious. “Yes?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest as you leaned against the doorframe. 

“What are you doing tonight?” Charles asked, blowing out a mouthful of thick smoke. 

You shrugged. “Nothing, I suppose,” you said. “Why?” 

“I wanted to take you to dinner,” Charles said. “I think we got off on the wrong foot, and I would like to make it up to you, if I can. I… I truly apologize for hitting you. I have a short temper, see, and I’m trying to be better about it.” His lips were pursed, his eyes trained on you. 

If you didn’t know any better, you would think that his apology was genuine. But he needed you on his good side in order to get your fortune. He was buttering you up. You sighed. “That’s alright,” you said. “Umm… I’d like that, I think. Would Mother be coming as well?” 

“No, little one,” Charles said, and you remembered how he had called you that as he pleasured himself into your panties. “Just us. A father-daughter dinner.” 

“Alright,” you said. “Umm… Would you be angry if I called you Father? I just think…” You trailed off and pretended to be ashamed as you played with the sleeve of your dress. “Maybe it would help me adjust.” 

“Not at all, honey,” Charles replied. “Anything to make you comfortable.” 

You gave him the smallest smile, and you approached his seat. “I should have greeted you with a bit more open-mindedness,” you mused. “I was being childish. I hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me, because I… I just want you to like me, Father.”

“Aw, honey, I do like you,” Charles said, tilting his head. “You’re already forgiven.”

Your smile grew, and you leaned over to give Charles a tight hug. You could smell his strong cologne as you embraced him, and you made sure to give a soft little moan in his ear. “Oh, Father!” you started. “I can’t seem to find some of my clothes. Would you happen to know where they might have gone? Mother’s always on about donating unused things.” 

“I have no idea, little one,” Charles said, and you straightened up. “What exactly are you missing?” 

“Just a few sweaters,” you said, tracing the etching on the desk. “A skirt or two… A pair of panties with daises on them.” You gave a little laugh, and added, “They were my lucky pair and I just… Never mind, that’s embarrassing.” 

“No, I mean,” Charles began, and he shifted in his chair. Your words had done exactly what you had hoped; he was suspicious and uncomfortable. “If it means a lot to you. How exactly are they lucky, might I ask?” 

You laughed quietly. “Oh, Father, I couldn’t possibly tell you,” you giggled. “It’s not the sort of things girls talk about with their parents.” 

“C’mon,” Charles smiled, reaching forward and playfully tickling your side. “If you don’t tell me, then I’ll assume the worst.” 

In truth, the panties meant nothing to you. You couldn’t even remember when or where you had gotten them. But if it made Charles uncomfortable, then you would stretch the truth however far you needed to. You bit your bottom lip and giggled, and you said, “Fine, fine. I wore them the night I almost lost my virginity, and I… I just feel good wearing them.” 

Charles straightened in his chair, setting his pipe aside. “You’re not a virgin?” he asked. 

“I said ‘almost’, Father,” you whispered. “I still am.” 

“Well, that’s not a bad thing,” Charles told you. His hands went to your waist and tugged you closer to him, and he carefully parted your legs with his knee. “Are you waiting for marriage?”

You shrugged. “Or whatever,” you said. “I wanted to do it, but I just… He wasn’t my type.” 

“And what is your type, honey?” Charles asked. 

Your stomach was curling with disgust, but you kept up the ruse. “I don’t know,” you whispered. With a sigh, you settled yourself on Charles’s thigh, playing with the collar of his shirt. “Just, someone who knows what they’re doing, I guess. Who can make me feel good without making mistakes. Older, I suppose.”

“What else?” Charles asked. His thumb brushed against your hip bone, and you shivered when you felt your walls flutter. You couldn’t possibly be turned on by playing this sick game with your stepfather, could you?

“I like dark hair,” you said softly. “Tall. Nice eyes.”

“So…” Charles began and gave you a satisfied grin, one like a wolf who had cornered his prey. “Me.” 

“Oh, God,” you whispered. “I-I guess, when you put it that way--” 

“It’s alright, little one,” Charles said softly, and he leaned forward and kissed each of your cheeks. “It’s alright if you’ve got a little crush on me. Tell me, honey: have you ever been touched before?” 

“Yes,” you replied with a fake meekness. He seemed to like the more innocent side of you. 

“Yes…?” 

You swallowed down disgust, disguising it as nerves. “Yes, Father.” 

“Good girl,” Charles whispered. “How have you been touched?” 

“A boy put his fingers in me,” you told Charles, avoiding his eyes. “And his mouth on me.” 

“Where on you?” Charles pressed on. His hand slipped down to your bare legs and let his fingers linger on the soft skin of your inner thigh. 

“Father,” you mumbled. “I can’t say it.”

“Show me,” Charles demanded, his face suddenly stony. “Put your hand where that kid had his fucking mouth.” 

You let your hand rest on top of Charles’s, and you lifted it to your breast first. “Here--” 

“Over your dress?” Charles laughed. 

“N-No,” you laughed softly. You bit your lip as you guided his hand down the neck of your dress, and you shuddered at his warm palm on your soft nipple. Your cunt fluttered again, and you fully blushed when you realized that Charles had certainly felt it against his tense thigh. “Here,” you whispered, and you found yourself letting out a quiet moan as Charles groped at your breast. You weren’t supposed to be enjoying this. No, this was supposed to be torture for him. 

“You like when I touch your tit like this, honey?” Charles asked, and you nodded quickly. “So good for your father, little one. Where else?” 

You took his wrist and pulled his hand up to your mouth, and you placed a gentle kiss to his fingertips. “He kissed me,” you said. 

“Did you like it?” Charles asked. He pressed his thumb to your bottom lip, and you took it into your mouth as Charles watched greedily. 

You shook your head, and Charles pulled his thumb from your mouth. “What did he do wrong?” he asked softly. 

“Nothing,” you whispered. “I just didn’t like him, I suppose.” 

“Do you usually fuck guys you don’t like?” Charles asked. 

“I didn’t fuck him, Father!” you said quickly. “I-I stopped it. Remember?” 

“Oh, right,” Charles said in a hushed tone. “Saving yourself for the right person, who just so happens to have every quality that I possess. Is that right?” 

“Father,” you groaned, leaning forward to press your forehead against his shoulder. For some reason, you didn’t entirely mind the smell of his cologne anymore. You didn’t mind his perfect hair. You didn’t even mind the wolfish smile that overtook his pink pout. 

“Where else was that boy’s mouth?” Charles whispered. “Did he put it anywhere else? Or just on your pretty little mouth and tit?” 

As you grabbed his hand, you realized that there was absolutely no going back. Your plan was set in motion and there was no way to stop it. You took a deep breath to prepare yourself, and you slowly took his hand down your body. You carefully lifted your dress and settled his hand over your cunt, and you shuddered at the warmth of his palm. His fingers were against your hole, the heel of his hand pressed to your clit, and you watched him lick his lips. “You naughty little thing,” Charles chuckled. “You let him put his mouth on your pussy?” 

“I didn’t like it,” you told him quickly. “I didn’t like him.” 

“Honey, I’m gonna ask you this once,” Charles whispered, pressing his hand fully against you. Even through the thin layer of your panties, you could feel every inch of his hand, and you bit your lip and tried to control your hips from bucking into his palm. Amongst other things, you were sure that you would get in trouble for it. “Do you want me to fuck you? I can show you how good you’re supposed to feel, little one, you’ll love me for it.” 

You nodded quickly, but yelped when his free hand landed a smack on your ass. It truly hurt, and you whimpered when his hand stayed on your ass and squeezed. “Use your words, honey,” Charles said. “As much as I like the little dumb whore act, I wanna hear you beg for it.” 

“Yes,” you said quickly. “Yes, Charles, please. Please, Daddy, please fuck me.” 

“Ooh, Daddy,” Charles purred. “I like the sound of that, baby. Stand up and take off your panties, sweetheart.” 

You did as he told you, shivering when the cool air hit your wet cunt, and Charles tugged you back down onto his thick thigh. The roughness of his pants made you whimper louder, and he sent a slap to your cheek. It wasn’t hard and didn’t even hurt, but you gasped all the same. “Keep your fucking cock-hole shut,” Charles hissed. “You want your mother to hear you fucking yourself on my leg?” 

“N-No, Daddy,” you whined. 

“Good girl,” Charles whispered. “Show me how badly you want me.”

“Huh?” 

Charles took fistfuls of your dress and tugged it downwards, letting your tits escape. “I said, show me how badly you want me to fuck your little hole, babygirl,” he growled. “Fuck yourself on my thigh, and maybe, if you’re good for me, I’ll bend you over this desk right now and fuck you ‘til you can’t walk. You want that, baby? Want your daddy’s cock wrecking your pretty little pussy?” 

You rested your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself, and you rocked your hips down onto his hard thigh. The material of his pants brushed your cunt and clit and made you bite back a whimper, and you squeezed your eyes shut. You hated the way that you were enjoying it. You hated him. Maybe you even hated yourself. But self-loathing could wait until you got off, because the pleasure of everything was too overpowering to focus on much else. 

Charles’s hands roamed your body, touching you everywhere that he could manage. He squeezed your tits and pinched your nipples, and bolts of pleasure rocked through your whole body. That, added with the feeling on your clit, was almost too much, and you whined out. “Daddy--!”

Suddenly, his hand was over your mouth, the other clamping down around your throat. “Shut up!” he huffed. His eyes were alert, locked on yours, and his face was red. Was he really angry? The thought that he was truly angry made your stomach flip, and not in a good way. “I told you to shut the fuck up, why can’t you listen?”

You pleaded with your eyes, asking him to forgive you. It was important for your plan that he didn’t have any ill will towards you. You needed him to want to marry you, and to actually do it. Then, you would get the money, and you could find a way to stage a suicide before the money was put into his bank account. Then, you would have your father’s money, and live with just yourself and the fortune he gave you. But, in order to do that, you had to do everything Charles Blackwood asked of you. You had to treat this horrible man like the sun shined out of his lying ass. You had to make him want to marry you. Which, at the current moment, didn’t seem like it would be too difficult. 

You mumbled behind his hand, trying to warn him that you were going to come, but he only hit you across the cheek again. “Not another sound, you fucking whore,” he said. “Fucking yourself on your father’s leg. So slutty. You gonna come? You wanna come on Daddy’s leg?” 

You nodded quickly, and you started your hips faster. Your legs were quivering and you could hardly hold yourself upright anymore, and Charles took note of the tears brimming at your eyelashes. “Is this the first orgasm you’ve ever had, honey?” he asked. He seemed softer suddenly, and his hand left your mouth; the other stayed secure around your throat, though. You nodded quickly, and he gave a little coo. “Aw, my poor baby. I guess I oughta take some pity on you, huh? You’ve been good to me after all… Take off your dress and sit on the desk.” 

Your dress hit the floor, and you settled yourself on the edge of Charles’s desk. It was a hefty thing made of mahogany, and you clenched your thighs together as Charles’s eyes raked over your entire body. “I know you’re not trying to be modest now,” he laughed. “Open your legs and show Daddy that pretty pussy.”

You bit your lip and did as he said, and you gasped when his eyes finally landed on your cunt. You were dripping wet, your slick glistening off your thighs, and Charles let one thick finger glide up your slit and collect your wetness on his fingertip. “Jesus Christ, baby,” he laughed. “You were really close, weren’t you? Let me guess, you want me to shove my cock in you, huh? Want me to fuckin’ split you in two and stuff you full of my cum? God, you would look so pretty, gettin’ all big with my baby.” He paused to suck your wetness off of his finger, and he gave a quiet little sigh. “Oh, God. Of course you taste good… So sweet, like sugar. It’s almost like you want me to eat you out, sugar.”

“Please,” you sniffled. You reached for him and pulled him in by his tie, and he slotted easily between your thighs. “Please, please, please, Daddy, want your mouth on my pussy, please, make me come, Daddy…” 

Charles placed a soft kiss on your forehead as a way to placate your begging, and he whispered, “You’re asking so nicely, sugar. How could I say no to your pretty little face?” 

You didn’t know what exactly to expect as Charles kneeled down in front of you, and you carefully pushed your fingers through his hair, through those perfect blond highlights. The moment his tongue touched your clit, though, you forgot entirely about how you were supposed to be hating him. You forgot practically everything that wasn’t Charles. He lapped up your wetness and placed a wet kiss to your lips, and your stomach clenched as he looked up at you through his eyelashes. “Aw,” he whispered, his warm breath making your cunt flutter again. “You look so pretty, sugar, all fucked out like this. Can’t wait ‘til I can actually fuck you…” 

And, with that, he dived in. He was kissing, licking, and sucking your cunt like it was his only goal in life, your thighs in his bruising grip. You had the instinct to clamp your legs shut, and you nearly did, but Charles pulled his mouth away just enough so that his lips teasingly brushed your clit, and he whispered, “Now, that’s not what good girls do, is it?” 

“M’sorry, Daddy,” you whispered. “Just feels so good.”

“I know, sugar, I know,” Charles whispered. “You’re being so obedient for me, though. Do you think you deserve a reward?” 

“Yes,” you gasped. “Please, Daddy, I’ve been so good for you. Done what you’ve asked, please let me come.” 

Charles sighed, looking up at you once more. “I love listening to you beg,” he whispered. “But you’ve been doing good for me. Go ahead, sugar. Come on my face, baby.”

The way his lips shined with your cum nearly made you pass out. If it were anyone else, you would have adored the sight of it, but, since it was your awful fucking monster of a stepfather, you loathed it. Still, you pulled him close and kissed him all the same, cringing at the taste of yourself on his mouth. 

“What do we say?” Charles asked. His hands smoothed down your body, landing on your waist, and he tugged you flush against his body. 

You let out a quiet little laugh. “Thank you, Daddy,” you whispered. 

Charles smiled, looking like the cat who ate the canary. “You’re welcome, sugar.” 

[clara-licht]

Dreamlike Reality (Alberu Crossman x Reader) [2/2]

pic source

Summary:

Had it not been for his love and loyalty towards the people of Roan Kingdom, Alberu was sure he’d have ditched this position a long time ago. Alas, Alberu Crossman was a Crown Prince whose heart and life belonged to the people. It sure didn’t prepare him for the headaches that his sworn brother caused, though. He was exhausted and he needed rest, pronto.

or;

Through the exhaustion of his duties, Alberu found haven in his lover. He could deal with the paperworks (that Cale caused) later.

Character(s): Alberu Crossman, Cale Henituse (minor), Choi Han (minor), Raon Miru (minor), Eruhaben (minor)

Word Count: 5k+

Warning: SMUT

Note: I know I said I’d update in a week, and the only excuse I have is that writing smut is so hard! The last time I wrote smut was years ago and it was terrible, so this was a challenge for me. It took me several short writing sessions to get this done. I also had to read some smut to get an idea of some scenes lol. There were a couple of ideas that didn’t get into here though, like the term “royal knickers” that some lovely people came up with on Discord. Maybe I’ll use it next time. Anyway, this is the second and last part of this fic. Enjoy!

Title Inspo: BTS - Heartbeat

Part 1 | Masterlist | Sequel

———————————————–

“What’s on your mind?” She whispered, eyes gazing straight into his.

Alberu smiled.

“You.”

(Y/n) couldn’t hold back the small giggle that escaped her lips.

“That’s so cheesy even for you, Your Highness,” she said amidst her giggles that made Alberu’s heart flutter.

“Don’t call me that,” Alberu said, still smiling.

“What? Your Highness?”

“Mhm.”

A small frown made its way to (y/n)’s expression. “That’s what I call you everyday though?” (Y/n) asked. “I can’t call your name in front of the nobles so casually now, can I?”

The Crown Prince let out a rather undignified snort at her words. “Not if I have my way…” He muttered underneath his breath. “But that’s not what I meant. It’s just the two of us here right now.”

(Y/n) grinned teasingly, “Oh yeah? What do you want me to call you then?”

Alberu raised an eyebrow. “Really?” He asked, amused.

“Yeah. What do you want me to call you, Your Highness, the Crown Prince?”

Alberu was silent for a moment as he took in the grinning young lady in front of him. There she was, the lady of his dreams, someone who knew him outside and inside, the one person who he longed to spend his entire life with.

The slight twinkle of mischief in her eyes, the curve of her grin, the strands of hair falling over her forehead and cheek…

They were all so devastatingly beautiful.

Most would say he was exaggerating, but what else could he say? He was madly in love, after all.

And it wasn’t just for her looks, oh no. Alberu would argue that she was the most beautiful lady in his life, but even her physical appearance pale in comparison to her mind and personality.

Many people had complimented Alberu for his talent as a Prince. They were in awe of his capabilities and his quick, nearly flawless strategies. The brightest scholar and administrative officer couldn’t keep up with his thoughts most of the time. The way Alberu thought was quick and they kept changing.

But (y/n) could keep up with him. She could even find the flaws and space for improvements in his ideas.

Of course, the only other person who could keep up with him was his sworn brother, Cale Henituse. But that guy was a mystery (despite Alberu knowing a lot of his secrets now) and Alberu wasn’t sure if he was ready to unpack… that.

The Young Master Silver Shield Cale Henituse, A Kind of Hero Who Will Never Be Seen in the World Again was the source of his headaches, after all.

‘I truly am lucky, aren’t I?’ Alberu thought to himself. ‘To have not one, but two people who are truly compatible with me.’

Alberu chuckled before moving closer once again to press his lips against his lover’s.

However, unlike the previous soft and gentle kiss, this one was deeper.

His hand that was holding her slightly cold cheek moved to her back as he held her even closer. He could feel the warmth of her every curve; the way her soft breasts pushed against his own hard chest. The short nightgown she wore had slightly ridden up her thighs. He could feel her bare legs slowly moving against his pants-clothed thigh.

(Y/n) silently gasped when his hand moved lower to squeeze her behind. Alberu took the chance of her parted lips to slip his tongue inside.

As the kiss grew deeper and messier, (y/n)’s fingers latched onto the front of Alberu’s sleep shirt, gripping it so tightly Alberu could feel her nails slightly scratching him through the cloth.

Alberu quickly rolled their bodies until he was situated right on top of (y/n), their lips never leaving each other. He had to put a hand beside her head to stop his body from crushing her.

His other hand reached down and slipped under her nightgown, feeling the soft skin of her bare thigh. His thumb drew circles on her inner thigh while squeezing. Just a little higher and his fingers would find the edges of her underwear.

“Alberu…”

Alberu chuckled, finally moving back a little. A thin string of saliva connected their tongues for a moment before breaking and disappearing. “There it is,” he said with a grin.

(Y/n) glared at him. Alberu would normally be worried when his lover glared at him, but not this time. Not when there was a cute little pout on her swollen lips and she had blushed so heavily but not from the cold. The makeout session had more than heated them up.

Alberu shrugged off the blanket on his back, exposing them to the cool night air. It did little to cool down their heated skin.

“You could’ve just answered me, you know,” (y/n) huffed. Her arms went around Alberu’s neck, betraying her mock angered look.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Alberu answered lightly. He was still squeezing and drawing circles on her thigh.

(Y/n) huffed again.

Neither of them said anything for a while, only staring into each other’s eyes. The silence was comfortable and didn’t feel awkward at all. It wasn’t like this was their first time in bed together.

“Aren’t you tired?” (Y/n) broke the silence with a whisper.

She had come to his room to drag him to bed and make him rest, knowing that he would be exhausted from his work. But forget being tired, the look in his eyes told her that he had no intention to sleep right now.

“Hm… I was tired earlier…” Alberu murmured as a sly grin took over. “But how can I sleep when such a gorgeous lady is with me in bed wearing only this thin little thing?” He asked, playing with the short sleeve before slightly pushing it down her shoulder.

(Y/n) rolled her eyes. “This isn’t the first time I slept here with you, Beru.” She said, the familiar nickname rolling off her tongue.

“It’s not,” Alberu hummed. His eyes that were staring into hers moved lower to her exposed collarbone, the smooth skin practically inviting his lips to come explore her entire body.

And explore he did.

Alberu leaned his head down and started peppering soft kisses on her neck down to the edges of her nightgown necklines. It wouldn’t take much effort to pull the neckline down and expose the top of her breasts, but Alberu liked to take his time.

His fingers began moving again. The skirt of her nightgown, which had already ridden up earlier, was swept away and Alberu’s fingers returned to their place on her thigh. This time, though, he didn’t hesitate to toy with the bands on her underwear. He couldn’t see the little garment, but from the feel of it, he was sure that (y/n) had worn one of his favorites to bed.

“You little tease,” he chuckled against his skin.

“What?” (Y/n) asked, a little breathless from the anticipation.

“Can I take this off?” He tugged at the nightgown lightly. Forget taking his time, he wanted to see her already!

“Mm,” (y/n) only mumbled before sitting up and letting Alberu pull her nightgown off her, revealing the red lace panties that drove Alberu crazy every time he saw it on her. The pink buds on the tip of her breasts stiffened immediately, drawing Alberu’s attention.

(Y/n) shuddered when Alberu’s cold fingers ghosted over them.

“You little tease,” Alberu repeated his words as his eyes glanced at the only garment left on his lover’s body.

(Y/n) followed his eyes down her body.

“Oh,” (y/n) blinked, “I don’t even remember I’m wearing this right now.”

“I’m lucky then,” was all Alberu said before he dived down and took a nipple into his mouth, startling (y/n).

(Y/n) let Alberu pushed her back down, one of her hands already found their way into his hair while the other found purchase on the sheets.

“Beru!” She gasped out loud when Alberu pinched the other nipple while placing little bites on the underside of her breast.

“You’ll alarm the guards if you’re too loud, love,” Alberu teased. “Not that I mind. Wake them all up.”

“Beru!” (Y/n) said once again, but with an annoyed tone this time.

“What?” He grinned, looking up to her face.

(Y/n) huffed, “You’re unbelievable.”

“Am I now?”

Alberu kissed her once more. Unlike before when he had to brace himself to not crush her, this time he pressed his body into hers; hips grinding into each other in a slow, languid pace, driving (y/n) crazy with need for more.

“Do something already,” she grumbled amidst the kiss.

“Like what?” Alberu asked, their lips still touching. “I won’t know unless you tell me.”

(Y/n) squinted at him, but said nothing.

‘Two can play this game, Alberu Crossman,’ she thought before suddenly flipping their positions around.

Alberu could only look up in surprise as he found himself lying on the bed with (y/n) straddling his lap.

“Quite unfair that you’re still fully clothed while I’m bare already, don’t you think?” (Y/n) hummed, her fingers already making work of Alberu’s top’s buttons.

Once the top was fully unbuttoned and Alberu’s hard, sculpted chest and abs were on view (such a shame Beru always hides them, (y/n) thought to herself), (y/n) placed her hands on his chest to brace herself and pressed her lips onto his neck; kissing, nibbling, and sucking on the soft skin. The red marks blossoming on his skin satisfied and irked her at the same time.

She loved marking him, obviously. They felt like her brand. She knew Alberu would go a few days with high-collared suits to hide it, but it wasn’t like he rarely wore high collars anyway. It’d be like a little secret that only they knew. (except for the undercover Dark Elves who totally noticed them after they sparred together)

It irked her, however, because she also knew that her marks were only visible due to his light skin. They wouldn’t be as apparent on his natural dark skin. 

It made her feel like she was the only naked one here. (and she technically was, since Alberu still had his pants on, but that was beside the point)

“Can I remove this?” She whispered as she lightly pulled on the necklace around Alberu’s neck with her teeth.

The necklace from his mother. Removing it could only mean one thing.

Alberu smiled, “Go for it.”

(Y/n) shot him a grateful look before gently removing the necklace and putting it on the bedside drawer. She couldn’t stop herself from marveling at the way his hair, eyes, and skin darkened.

Alberu’s golden hair and blue eyes disguise was very handsome indeed, but the real Alberu was just… hot. Sexy, even.

(Y/n) could feel herself heating up just by the sight of this fine man under her.

“Like what you see?” Alberu asked with a smirk when he noticed (y/n) eyeing him up without saying anything.

“You know I do,” (Y/n) scoffed before leaning down and started kissing every inch of his skin that she could find again.

This time, fueled by the heat pooling on the bottom half of her body, she sucked and bit even harder, determined to leave a mark that could be seen in this form. Her hips grinded down on his crotch where she could feel him hardened through his pants.

One of her hands sneaked down and slipped into the bands of his pajama pants, cupping and lightly stroking his hard cock, making Alberu hissed out. (Y/n) then repeated Alberu’s action earlier and nipped on his chest.

(Y/n)’s touch felt heavenly, but the soft and airy touch left him craving for more.

“You’re teasing me, aren’t you.”

“Am I now?” Alberu couldn’t really see her face, but he could feel her lips quirking up into a smirk against his skin.

He sighed, amused. “What can I do to make you do something?” He asked.

(Y/n) lifted her head up and surely enough there was a smirk on his face. “Do what? I won’t know unless you tell me.” She repeated his words.

Alberu laughed.

“Okay, fine, you got me.”

Alberu gently rolled their bodies again until he was on top once more. He shrugged off the top and removed the pants, revealing his thick girth.

Again, it wasn’t their first time in bed together, but the sight of his hard cock standing proudly still made (y/n) squirmed in anticipation. She’d felt him before and she could certainly say that Alberu knew his way in bed. The Crown Prince really had to be perfect in every aspect, didn’t he?

Alberu’s touch on her underwear brought her attention back. “Can I take this off?” He asked.

Even in this situation, he still made sure to ask. ‘How lucky am I to have such a man for myself?’ (Y/n) mused to herself before nodding.

Alberu laid down and lifted one of her legs to his shoulder, kissing her inner thigh. Despite having (y/n)’s consent, he didn’t remove the undergarment immediately. Instead, he began pressing feather-like kisses on her clothed mound, sending shivers down her spine

Her fingers weaved through Alberu’s hair and pulled when she felt his tongue swiping through the fabric. She could feel his hot breath even through the cloth.

Alberu swept the underwear aside without taking it off, revealing just the slightest bit of her wet core before swiping his tongue up to her clit.

“B-Beru-” (Y/n) gasped.

“You’re so wet,” he hummed. He finally pulled the fabric off her legs and dived in.

His tongue slid across her once more before his lips closed around her clit, sucking it while his fingers ghosted around her opening. (Y/n) bit her lip, trying to quieten down when she felt one of his fingers pushed into her.

Alberu curled his finger, rubbing against her walls. He entered a second finger before starting to stretch her. While this wasn’t their first time, Alberu was aware that his size was above average (most probably due to his Dark Elf genes) and he didn’t want to hurt her.

(Y/n) couldn’t hold back her moan when Alberu started to thrust his fingers in along with stretching her. His tongue swept through her clit, licking around her folds. The combination of his tongue and fingers brought her close to the edge real quick.

“Ah-” (y/n) gasped out when he took his fingers out. She felt the emptiness immediately and was going to beg Alberu for more when he moved lower and replaced his fingers with his tongue.

The feel of the fleshy and wet flesh was so different from his long fingers.

“O-Oh, Beru, that’s-!”

Alberu’s finger found her clit and he started drawing quick circles. (Y/n)’s moan grew louder and her hips started thrusting up from the stimulation. Alberu had to press down on her hips and thighs to stop her from crushing his head.

(Y/n) could feel her high approaching. Her body was trembling from the relentless pleasure shocks that Alberu gave her. It didn’t take long before the heat pooling on her stomach exploded. A few more thrusts from Alberu’s tongue and she had come undone with a long moan of his name.

Alberu was sure the guards stationed near his room could hear them.

(Y/n) laid on the bed limply, struggling to catch her breath as she came down from her high. Alberu pressed a few kisses on her inner thigh, tactfully avoiding her swollen clit. He knew from past experiences how sensitive she would be right now.

Normally he would tease her into a few more orgasms, but Alberu was aware that both of them had a long day and she might not be able to take it right now.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

(Y/n) let out a breathless laugh. “More than okay, I’d say,” she answered with a smile. Her hands reached out for him and he complied, knowing what she wanted.

Their lips met in a soft kiss that grew deeper in no time. Their tongues slid against each other messily and (y/n) couldn’t stop the throaty moan that escaped her.

Their bodies were pressed together and she could feel his cock brushing her sensitive folds. The feeling of his hard shaft brought back the heat and lust into her. The emptiness she felt in her core was hard to ignore.

But before that…

“Alberu,” she sighed against his lips, “will you let me taste you?”

Alberu was never really one to deny such a sweet request, but not tonight.

“If I let you go down on me,” he mumbled, humping her slick folds and shuddering at the warmth he felt on his cock, “I won’t last long.”

He was embarrassingly quite close to the edge already. Nothing got him going more than pleasuring his lover; after all, Alberu always loved taking care of his beloved. He always got harder while going down on her. After the long and tiring day he had, he wasn’t sure if he could last much longer.

There was no way he would go to bed without being inside her first, though.

Alberu tapped on her thigh, silently asking her to open up before settling in between her thighs.

“Is this okay?” He asked again.

(Y/n) said nothing, instead reaching down to align him with her entrance. She breathed out a soft moan as she felt the tip of his cock brushed against her opening.

Alberu took his cues from her and started pushing in.

He made sure to stretch her properly earlier, but she was still so tight. It’d been quite a while since they were intimate, after all.

Alberu grunted as he bottomed out, his pelvis meeting hers with a smack. (Y/n) let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding with a strangled moan.

Alberu stayed still for a moment, letting her adjust to him. It was a very tight fit. If he didn’t give her some time then he wasn’t sure if he could even pull back.

(Y/n) didn’t know if she had ever felt so full before. Maybe it was due to the long period of abstinence, but he felt so much bigger than before. The stretch had been a bit painful, but it was drowned in absolute pleasure when she finally got him in.

(Y/n) reached towards Alberu and pulled him into a kiss, arms circling around his neck. “Move, please,” she murmured against his lips.

Alberu complied with her request and pulled back a little before pushing back in. The warm walls holding him were slowly driving him crazy.

With a snap, he unconsciously bucked into her, drawing a startled moan.

“(Y/n)...” Alberu muttered through gritted teeth. “I don’t think I can hold back.”

“Then don’t.”

The affirmation was all Alberu needed before he drilled into her.

The pace he set was fast and frantic. His bedroom was filled with the sound of their hips meeting accompanied by (y/n)’s moans, while his bed started making ricketing sounds from how hard he was going. He would’ve worried about hurting her if it weren’t for her moans and begging for him to not stop.

“A-Alberu, I- ah!” One of (y/n)’s hands gripped his shoulder. Alberu took both of her hands and pushed them beside her head, interlocking their fingers together.

“Look at me,” he asked breathlessly.

(Y/n) opened her slightly teary eyes and looked into Alberu’s warm brown eyes.

She could feel every veins on his cock as he thrusted into her. He was in so deep; with every thrust the tip of his cock would brush against her cervix. Alberu changed his thrust angle a little and suddenly he had hit the right spot, reducing her into a moaning mess.

“Oh, God,” (y/n) moaned. “D-Don’t stop, Beru, don’t stop-”

“You feel so good,” Alberu grunted out. “I won’t last much longer.”

“I want it, Beru, please, I want it!” She cried out, head thrashing against the pillow.

Alberu slipped his hand underneath her body, easily manhandling her until she was seated on top of him. He buried his face between her breasts, licking and biting the soft flesh, while his hands grasped her bottom to help her move up and down.

(Y/n) had to hold both of Alberu’s shoulders to steady herself. The waves of pleasure grew more intense when he started thrusting up, meeting her own movements.

“I’m close,” (y/n) cried, “I’m close, please let me come, Alberu, please! Please!” She started sobbing.

Alberu reached down to her clit and flicked, making her thighs quiver. “Come for me, love,” he whispered to her ear, an arm pressing her to his body while his other hand toyed with her clit.

With a cry, (y/n) felt the band inside her snapped and she came for the second time that night. The orgasm was so intense her vision was filled with white spots. Her body trembled in Alberu’s arms.

Alberu was close to his own high and thrusted through her orgasm, once again reducing her to a moaning mess. (Y/n) felt so sensitive from the overstimulation that she was about to come again.

“Beru, I can’t-”

“One more,” Alberu murmured, “give me one more.”

“I can’t- I’m too- Ah-” Her words were cut off when he gave a particularly hard thrust.

“You can do it. Please, love? For me?” He murmured against her ear before kissing the skin between her neck and shoulder. He gave her a few of his own marks.

Tears started streaming down her cheeks. (Y/n)’s shaky arms held onto Alberu and she pressed her face against his neck, nodding slightly.

“Good girl.”

Alberu played with her clit again as his hips kept moving. (Y/n)’s frantic moans filled his ears. With one more hard thrust, (y/n) had unraveled once again, crying out as she held him tight.

Alberu wasn’t far behind. Just a couple more thrust and he too cried out her name as he spilled into-

“Your Highness, there’s something I need to-”

The familiar voice snapped him out of the waves of pleasure and his instincts took over.

Alberu quickly rotated their bodies and pushed (y/n) into the bed before grabbing the blanket and covering both of them.

“Goldie gramps! Why are you closing my eyes? And why does it smell so weird?”

The childlike voice was the one that brought (y/n)’s attention to reality and she stiffened up.

‘Oh God please tell me this is NOT happening!’ (Y/n) screamed in her mind, completely mortified.

“I- Y-Your Highness, I-”

For the first time since his transmigration, Cale Henituse truly did not know what to say.

He had found very important information that his hyung-nim needed to hear, so he asked Eruhaben to teleport them to the Palace. Eruhaben, of course, teleported them to the coordinates that they always used whenever they visited the Crown Prince.

The coordinates being Alberu’s bedroom.

It wasn’t their first time coming to Alberu’s bedroom unannounced in the middle of the night, but Alberu had always been alone.

That certainly wasn’t the case tonight.

Eruhaben was the first to notice that something wasn’t quite… right. It was probably his instincts from his nearly 1,000 years of life. He immediately stood in front of Raon and shielded his views. He even held Raon and put a hand over his eyes, just in case.

Choi Han didn’t have such luxury. He froze and stared at Alberu’s bed, face beet red. He might be older than he actually looked, but he was also inexperienced in this particular… field. 

Honestly, it was lucky that (y/n) was facing Alberu when they arrived. At least they didn’t get to see more than they already had. Choi Han would’ve fainted if that wasn’t the case.

Silence filled the room for a few moments.

“Cale Henituse.”

“...Yes, Your Highness?”

“Can you leave?”

“Uh, sir… I really need to tell you something…”

“...”

“...”

Silence ensued once more.

Eruhaben broke it with a sigh. “It can wait until tomorrow. Let’s just go-”

“No!”

Surprisingly, it was (y/n) who cut off Eruhaben’s sentence. Their eyes went to the (h/c) haired lady who was still shielded by the blanket and Alberu’s body. Her head was the only thing visible.

“It must be important. Just give us a few minutes, His Highness will be with you in a moment.” (Y/n) said quickly.

“(Y/n)-” Alberu started to protest.

“It’s okay. Hear them out.” She shot him a smile.

Alberu stared at her for a moment before sighing heavily.

“Wait outside,” he told the invading group.

Cale quickly nodded and dragged Choi Han, who was still frozen, with him. Eruhaben followed him behind with Raon and they exited the room.

Once the door was closed, Alberu dropped his head to (y/n)’s shoulder.

“I almost had a heart attack,” he complained.

(Y/n) laughed. “And you think I didn’t?”

Both of them were aware that Alberu was still in her. Alberu could only be grateful that his beloved sworn brother barged in right after he had come and not before, so at least he wasn’t left hanging. He began to pull out slowly, both of them hissing at the contact. Alberu was left mesmerized as he watched his seed slowly seeped out from her.

“I should go,” (y/n) hummed.

“Why did you tell them to stay?” Alberu asked. “They can just come back tomorrow and we can have the entire night.”

No, Alberu wasn’t whining. He definitely wasn’t.

(Y/n) smiled at him and pecked his lips. “You know young master Cale, Beru. If he rushed in here, in the middle of the night like this, then it must be very important.”

Alberu groaned.

“Now come on, we need to get dressed. You shouldn’t keep your guests waiting for too long.”

“...and they shouldn’t be uninvited guests,” Alberu grumbled, but he let (y/n) stood up and got dressed. Alberu grabbed his necklace from the bedside drawer and wore it immediately; his skin, hair, and eyes starting to lighten.

Cale, Raon, Choi Han, and Eruhaben were already aware of his true heritage, but he still didn’t feel too comfortable revealing himself to people other than his family, lover, and sworn brother.

Before (y/n) reached the door, Alberu pulled her into an embrace and kissed her deeply, fingers weaving through her tousled hair.

“I love you,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry our time is cut short. Will you come again tomorrow?”

“I love you too, Beru,” she smiled against his lips. “I’ll be here. Don’t worry.”

“Okay. Rest well.”

(Y/n) smiled at him once again before leaving the room.

Cale, Raon, Choi Han, and Eruhaben were waiting outside. Cale was talking to the Wind Elementals (scolding them for not telling him that his hyung-nim was busy but it wasn’t really their fault, was it?) and the rest of them had enhanced hearing, so they had heard Alberu and (y/n)’s conversation. The Elementals had told Cale as well.

It didn’t escape their notice how (y/n) had lovingly called the future Emperor with a nickname and their exchange of I love you’s. There was definitely something going on between the two.

When (y/n) came out from Alberu’s bedroom, she had bowed to them without saying anything before leaving immediately.

The guards standing a bit further away from them looked away, pretending they didn’t see what was happening. Not that it mattered much since all of them were undercover Dark Elves who knew about Alberu’s relationships anyway.

With a sigh, Cale knocked on the door.

“Come in.”

Cale winced. Alberu’s voice did not sound happy.

They entered and found Alberu sitting on the edge of his bed, fully clothed and in his human disguise. He was glaring at them.

“Your Highness, the brightest shining star of our Roan Kingdom, the one and only sun sent from the Heavens who will lead this Kingdom into a renowned and outstanding Empire-”

“Enough.”

“Yes, sorry.”

There was silence.

None of them knew what to say. Alberu, for one, was pissed off. Had he been a lesser man, he would’ve started cussing out the red haired man for having no tact.

Cale wasn’t sure what to say in this situation. The information he had to tell Alberu was important indeed, but he knew he was at fault here. Maybe he should apologize?

…but who was that lady?

Cale didn’t know that Alberu had a lover. Even The Birth of a Hero never said that the Crown Prince had a lady beside him. She did seem familiar, though.

Flipping through his Records, he finally remembered that he had seen her around the Palace.

‘One of the assistants, I think?’

Choi Han was still feeling awkward. His status as Alberu’s instructor never lessened his respect for the Crown Prince, and he certainly never expected to see him in such a… vulnerable state. This whole situation was messing with his mind.

Eruhaben could only sigh and shake his head.

“Crown Prince! Who was that lady?”

Raon was blissfully unaware of what had transpired. He heard the Crown Prince and his lady saying they love each other, but that was it. The child was naturally curious.

Alberu sighed and ruffled his already tousled hair. He plastered a smile that made Cale flinched.

“She’s the lady I’m currently courting, Raon-nim,” he answered the young Dragon.

Cale blinked in surprise. He hadn’t expected Alberu to answer straightforwardly. But then again, Alberu never really lied to him, didn’t he?

“She’s really pretty! She suits you, Crown Prince!”

“Thank you, Raon-nim. I think so too.”

Bless the child for breaking the cold atmosphere.

Cale coughed into his fist. “So, hyung-nim-”

“Call me Your Highness.”

“Ah, yes, Your Highness…” Cale stopped as he received a cold glare from Alberu. Gosh, he was really angry, wasn’t he?

“So what is so important you had to barge into my room in the middle of the night, hm?” Alberu asked with a blinding smile.

Cale gulped and started talking.

Needless to say, Cale made a note to never barge into Alberu’s room uninvited late at night again.

[millennialgrandma]

November Wrap Up

How in the hell are we finding ourselves at the end of November already? How am I nearly at the end of December 1? Honestly, what is time?

Things I Wrote

Well, I didn't get a lot of writing done this month, but I'm so very happy with what I did manage. I added another 400 words or so to the untitled dreomione.

I also wrote a short little something as a gift for @abrilas-art called First Kiss(es) and the Path to Forgiveness. It was inspired by one of her art pieces, which can be found here on Instagram.

Things I Read

If I keep this up, you're going to start thinking I don't read any traditionally published books. I really tried this month, ok? I actually brought a book with me when I stayed with my parents for Thanksgiving, fully intending to read it that Friday while everyone was at work. But, uh, there was some distracting deep-cleaning happening. And then a whole hilarious disaster where I baked the pies for our Saturday gathering but also spilled the entire cannister of sugar on the kitchen floor. So please imagine Edna Mode's voice when I say "NO BOOKS."

Per usual, I read an awful lot of fanfic. Although in terms of word-count, it was only a little over half my normal monthly volume. I had hoped to finish Beginning and End this month, but somehow I ran out of month :/

Fiction:

NonFiction:

Fanfiction:

Complete: (approx. 211k words)

Little Mouse by @ada-lovelaced & @faeorabel (with embedded art) (crooksmione, E, 1.3k)

Don't Look Away by @potionchemist (vikmione/dramione/vikdramione, E, 16.1k)

Reread for Smut with Friends: epiphanies by @hawthornewhisperer (dramione, M, 5.1k)

Not Alone by @they-call-me-megs (malnott, M, 1.3k)

Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard, Part Humans by @mightbewriting (dramione, E, 25.3k)

The Taste of Ink by @ambpersand; embedded NSFW art by @mignon-chignon (dramione, E, 6.2k)

Pin-Up by @whimsymanaged; embedded NSFW art by Pollux (dramione, E, 2.9k)

One and Done by @pacific-rimbaud (dramione, E, 35k)

Draco's Consolation Prize by emilyinwonderland; inspired by NSFW art by @roseheira (dramione, E, 2.9k)

Anchors In A Storm by @inadaze22 (dramione, E, 30.4k)

Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This) by @tumblintofu; embedded NSFW by @artofcrumbs (panville, E, 2k)

Desk Job by @willhavetheirtrinkets; (dramione, E, 1k)

The Worst by @roseharpermaxwell (dramione, E, 3.3k)

The Devil In The Details by @inadaze22; embedded SFW art by @saph-xxi and NSFW art by @jaxx-in-a-box (dramione, E, 10.2k)

Say you'll remember me by @im-a-monster-fucking-princess (dramione, E, ??k)

Only For One Night by azo (dramione, E, 3.3k)

Blast from the past re-read: Living the Dream by @ally147writes (dramione, E, 26.2k)

Hermione Granger and the Bungled Reservation by DontStopHerNow (dramione, E, 3.6k)

A Family Celebration by articcat621 (dramione, GA, 1k)

Severn Way by @magicaltraveler3 (dramione, E, 3k)

This Time Tomorrow by @sodamnradd (dramione, M, 2.5k)

Seven Days of Christmas by @ladykenz347 (dramione, M, 5k)

Hermione Granger and the Quest for the Perfect Penis by @chaoticcrumpets (dramione, M, 15.7k)

Let Me Be Yours by azo (dramione, E, 3.6k)

Doughnuts and Lights by rosenymphadoraweasley5 (goldgrass, E, 3.8k)

WIPs: (approx. 69k words)

A Safe, Devoted Darkness by @heyjude19-writing - Chapters 1-4 (dramione, E, 21.6k)

A Season for Setting Fires by @mightbewriting - Chapters 13-16 (dramione, E, 10.8k)

for the best by @hawthornewhisperer - Chapters 8-11 (dramione, M, 10.2k)

Soft Animals by @pacific-rimbaud Chapters 1 & 2 (dramione, M, 5.7k)

Measure of a Man by @inadaze22 - Chapter 34 (dramione, E, 16.3k)

Let The Dark In by @senlinyuwrites - Chapter 8 (dramione, M, 4.7k)

Things I'm Currently Reading (Heading into December)

Obviously it goes without saying that I'm reading too many things again. The Internet homies and I are continuing to have the time of our lives and have now picked up reading Ina's Ordinary People to each other. We're also doing daily advent reads, so expect December's wrap up to have an abundance of winter/holiday themed fics. I need to catch up on Disappearances. I am going to bloody well finish Beginning and End as well as read Picked and Planted. I am also intending to read Ada's new work, The Reality of Want. And I swear to all that is holy, I will read a PHYSICAL BOOK this month. Probably.

[alottanothing]

Left to Ruin: Chapter Sixteen

Summary: The pharaoh Ahkmenrah takes his new queen with ample celebration. Nouke learns of the struggles laid out in her new path.  

Previous Chapters

Word Count: 9684

Warnings: 5K PLUS WORDS OF WEDDING NIGHT SMUT. You younglings stay away, (18+ only)!! Why am I so thirsty? Seriously this chapter is the longest one in the whole story because I’m a thirsty hoe.

Tag List:  @xmxisxforxmaybe​, @r-ahh-mi​, @theultraviolencefan​, @hah0106​, @rami-malek-trash​, @diasimar​, @sherlollydramoine​, @flipper-kisses​, @ivy-miranda-2390​, @txmel​, @sunkissedmikky​, @concentratedsassandcandy​, @babyalienfairy​, @edteche2​ (Let me know if I missed you, or if you would like to be added to the tag list)

A/N:  I-uh-sorta went feral with this one. I got my feet wet writing smut a few chapters ago and with this one I straight up jumped into the deep end. Hopefully you all enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. As always, thank you so much for your comments and reactions! I adore you all! Once again as a disclaimer, I am not an ancient Egyptian expert and google only knows so much. So yeah, I took so historical liberties while writing this to make my life easier, but tried to keep it as “authentic” as possible

When Nouke stepped out into the hall with Setshepsut at her side, dripping from head to toe in finery, she did so with a new wave of confidence, using every perfect step as a moment to reflect. Her childhood was spent roaming the very halls in which she strode, wearing shoddy garb, ignored, and expected to serve men and women greater than herself. She’d come so far from the life of servitude she was born into. Now, Nouke walked freely, poised on a higher tier than a princess. Her rags were replaced with riches: adorned in fine linen and gold—she was someone no one could ignore.

Servants and nobles alike bowed to her as they passed, the crown on her head a sign of the status she would soon carry—its weight a reminder as well. Every piece of her history and the shimmering future laid before her was difficult to wrap her head around, but it thrilled her nonetheless.

Before another surge of hesitance could claw into the pit of her stomach, Nouke cast a studying glance to Setshepsut, watching the elegant way she carried herself. Her inherent grace was much like her brothers, especially when he turned on his pharaoh act. Every line in her body was straight but not rigid. Her posture was precise but comfortable; with her shoulders squared and her chin held just high enough to resonate a calm authority, she was regal without seeming arrogant.

Every step was weightless and fluid like a leaf on a breeze; Nouke walked as though she had rocks tethered to her feet. It took effort to stifle her frown, suddenly overcome with the desire to replicate the casual sophistication.

The chance she could master a paralleled radiance before they reached the council chamber was nil. Too straight of a posture would come across as stringent, and if she angled her chin even a fraction too high, she would surely come off as snobbish: two factors Nouke was keen to avoid.

With some luck and a large amount of diligence, Nouke knew she would be able to find that middle ground on par with the likes of Setshepsut and the rest of her family. Until then, Nouke made a vow to herself to stay calm and mimic Set’s gentle smile, hoping she did not look as foolish as she felt. 

When they reached the set of double doors, Setshepsut took the liberty of opening them herself. The council room was longer than it was wide and decorated with statues of the most important gods. Shelving ran along the wall to her right, housing scrolls of papyrus and other idols. At the rooms center was a long wooden table, which was already filled with a sea of unfamiliar faces.

A sense of panic consumed Nouke when each of the foreign faces turned to appraise her with varying expressions she had trouble reading. To a degree, she expected to be met with a cold welcome. To them, she was a filthy servant—a witch—who seduced their noble pharaoh into giving her a seat in the monarchy. Most of them probably wouldn’t believe her if she confessed to not wanting the crown; she just wanted Ahk.

In spite of the scrutiny, Nouke held her resolve, unwilling to let them upset her. Ahkmenrah chose her to be his queen. She had nothing to prove to them except, possibly, how much love she possessed for the pharaoh: that she would most willingly prove for the rest of her life.

Uninterested in catering to so many probing expressions, Nouke scanned the faces until she found Shepseheret at the furthest end, happily seated next to Maketaten. A grin broke through her protective mask of indifference as she found her mother dressed in finery befitting a noble. She looked so young and healthy the vision was almost enough to fill Nouke’s eyes with joyous tears, but she fought them, not wanting to ruin her makeup.

Beyond them, Merenkahre stood looking calm and pensive, harboring the same confident air Nouke needed to master.

Without a word, Setshepsut ambled prettily around the table to take the empty seat next to a handsome young soldier, leaving Nouke alone in the open space between the head of the table and the wall of shelves. The loss of her closeness triggered more panic to manifest, causing the rhythm of her heart to increase and a lump to build in her throat.

Instantly her mind and her eyes searched the room for a way to remedy the sudden wave of anxiety, wondering if she should join them at the table or wait for instruction. 

Just as she was starting to feel faint from holding her breath, everyone who was seated stood.

The abruptness startled Nouke with a gasp, and before she could follow their gaze to find an answer, Ahkmenrah twined his fingers with hers, throwing her a blinding, toothy smile. 

“Hello, my love,” he said proudly.

His presence easily allayed her unease and suddenly, Nouke felt weightless.

“Hi,” she replied with a dreamy exhale, her awe prompting his lips to curl into a grin until laughter lines crinkled at the corners of his eyes.

“If we now may proceed, my king?” Merenkahre cleared his throat to gain their attention.

There was the slightest hint of an adoring smile playing on the former pharaoh’s lips. No more was his face a mask of dutiful indifference; there was sincerity in his tone and eyes that was a welcomed sight. Perhaps she wouldn’t have to win his approval after all.

“Yes, father,” Ahkmenrah said with a respectful nod.

Merenkahre returned the gesture and took a single step to place himself between his wife and Maketaten.

“In following tradition, marriage contracts are usually written by the fathers of the young man and young woman. However, we must offer our condolences to our soon to be queen and her mother. Ramentukah was a loyal soldier under my reign and a good man.”

The room collectively bowed their heads in a show of respect—a moment of silence that was bittersweet.

“Thusly,” Meren began again. “I thought it more appropriate, that in this circumstance, the mothers scribe this agreement.”

Merenkahre stepped back into his previous place as Shepseheret and Maketaten stood, both smiling.

“Ahkmenrah. Anuksamun. I speak for both of us when I say it warms my heart to see the both of you reunited,” Shep began.

Maketaten brandished a roll of papyrus and laid it on the table as Ahk’s mother continued, “The terms of this marriage are simple. It states that in the unlikely want of a break to this union, any children of royal blood will remain heirs to the throne of Egypt. The homestead of Maketaten, Ramentuka, and Anuksamun will remain their property. Until such a time, the farm's upkeep will be the responsibility of the crown to ensure its longevity.”

“Are these terms agreeable to you both?” Maketaten added.

It was absurd to even speak about the notion of their union breaking; Nouke would never surrender Ahkmenrah, and she knew beyond a doubt he would never surrender her.

“Yes,” they said in unison, causing them both to crack a smile.

A pridefully pleased grin spread over Shepseheret's face as she gathered the marriage document and brought it to their end of the table.

“Then, if you please. Make your marks, your majesties."

Nouke’s heart was hammering as she watched Ahkmenrah scribe his name; the rush of excitement made her feel faint again, and she gripped Ahk’s hand a little tighter to keep from falling. He passed her the quill with another blinding smile, and her hand was shaking so badly it took all of her focus to will it steady as she wrote her name next to her husband's.

And then, it was done. He was hers, and she was his—forever.

Merenkahre spoke then, his smile wide and sparkling, a hint of his son’s expression peeking through.

“Our honored guests, and respected councilmen. It is my pleasure to present to you the pharaoh Ahkmenrah and his Queen, Anuksamun!” 

***

While Nouke found the ceremony to officially mark her union to the pharaoh to be—in a word—underwhelming, the celebration that followed made up for the boring political fuss of signing a document in the confines of the council chamber. The moment she stepped into the great halls of the palace with her husband, the commotion of the festivities echoed through the stone walls in such a way it was difficult to pinpoint their true origin.

Sounds almost alien, bounced around in a muffled and obscured clamor that instilled Nouke with curiosity. The corridors were nearly vacant as they strode; everyone, it seemed, having been coaxed with intrigue to the cause of the sounds pulsing through the palace.

Step after fluid step, the din of celebratory excitement grew louder until the halls of the palace gave way to a large courtyard oasis. Nouke’s breath caught with thrill as she took in the unbelievable sight, the crowd gathered below the stairs she and Ahk stood atop.

Shouts of praise for their king and queen burst from the guests below, in a thunderous roar that triggered a wave of shock to freeze Nouke's movements. Were it not for the proud smile on Ahkmenrah’s lips, the number of eyes suddenly cast upon her would have been even more staggering. His heartened expression was enough to combat the fluttering of butterflies in her belly, and she smiled too.

His sparkling eyes met her with a silent question—to ask if she was ready to keep going—and she nodded. Confidence thrummed from him and into her where their hands were joined, lending her the posture she thought she would need to work at to master. With Ahk at her side, the air of casual dignity came to her with ease.

She felt a true queen at that moment as a hush fell over the crowd when they began descending the stairs. Every person fell in a wave to their knees, parting like a river through sand for them as they slowly tread past.

Ahkmenrah was the paragon of regal as he moved throughout the crowd, his crown gleaming in the burning of torchlight, his golden robes catching the breeze, and sweeping elegantly behind him. Like all those before her, Nouke too was in awe of his presence: so calm and utterly beautiful. And all hers.

When they reached their destination at the center of the grand courtyard—a raised platform of identical twin thrones—Nouke was unsure if her heart was pounding from the thrill, the nerves or simply by the way Ahkmenrah glowed at her side.

There was so much to focus on from their stage and Nouke’s eyes scanned over it all feeling breathless. It wasn’t until Ahk stole a quick kiss that her nerves settled. He proudly drew her into the warmth of his orbit, and out from the tepid eyes surrounding them. The glean in his eyes moved through her entire body, snaking and rooting into her core.

Ahk’s puckish grin spread wider, recognizing her look of want all too easily, and gave her one last peck before turning to address his still kneeling guests. 

“Rise, my loyal, most cherished friends.” Ahkmenrah’s voice bellowed with a robust, prideful vigor that immediately settled between Nouke’s thighs despite the mundane nature of his words.

With a small bereft sigh, Nouke bit her lip and steered her focus to the crowd hoping to allay the heat Ahk’s deep bravado stirred.

“Tonight, I am the happiest man in all Egypt. Fore on this night, I have the supreme honor to introduce to you, my wife.” Ahkmenrah’s glittering eyes turned to drink in her sight, holding her gaze as he spoke again, “Whose beauty could have only come from the gods themselves. She is my greatest love, and your new queen…”

He sounded breathless, completely in awe, and almost in tears when he continued, “I present, Anuksamun!”

Instantaneously a chorus resonated throughout the air, “My Queen!”

Everyone bowed before her, even Ahkmenrah bowed, murmuring a gentle, “My queen,” that curled tendrils of warmth through her body.

Nouke’s mouth hung agape as her eyes flitted over each bowed head, her heart bursting and pounding all at once, overcome with a hundred different emotions, but mostly she stood with disbelief and profound gratefulness.

With a deep breath, Nouke poised herself with all the grace and confidence she could derive from those turbulent feelings inside and prayed her voice would not crack under the onslaught of pressure.

“My lords, my ladies, my new friends. I am humbled by your praise. It is my honor to share this night with each of you.” She paused to take in another slow breath, letting her sight catch Ahkmenrah to gauge how her first official address was faring.

His eyes were wide with admiration; his lips parted and quirked into a three-point smile. The look of reverence instilled a fresh wave of courage, and Nouke continued.

“Thank you all for making the journey to celebrate with us—”

“Let the festivities commence!” Ahkmenrah declared, ceremoniously flailing his arms to the heavens with a toothy smile that put the moons silvery light to shame.

All at once, the large garden erupted with life as every manner of entertainment broke out. Music and laughter sprung up on every side, filling the air with an ample joy that mirrored the sensation buzzing in Nouke’s chest.

With the spotlight no longer on her, a grin unfurled on her face, both proud and glad their guests were suddenly too caught up in the merrymaking to pay her and the pharaoh much attention.

“That was terrifying,” she half-joked with a shaky giggle.

In a fluid movement, Ahk’s arms were around her waist, guiding her against him until nothing remained to part them.

“You, my love, are a natural,” he purred with a smirk before claiming her mouth with his.

The delicate sweep of his tongue over her lip, begging for entrance, cajoled a pleased hum from Nouke’s throat. She was only too willing to open for him--starving for his intimacy after days without it.

His kiss was all greedy tongue and skillful lips, dancing desperately against one another, tasting and worshiping, until it stole the air from their lungs, leaving them panting with desire. Warmth coiled for each of them, low in their abdomen, spurring more quiet and indecent laments to pass—muffled—between them.

It took all of Nouke’s diminishing will power not to ravish her pharaoh then and there for everyone to see. His lips curled into a devious smirk, and his eyes trailed down the deep V of her neckline with a hunger no feast could fill, gnawing his bottom lip to curb his own appetite.

She shivered, thinking he was going to indulge her lewd fantasy and christen her his queen there before all of his subjects. However, the cloud of lust dissipated as quickly as it had formed when Ahkmenrah’s family swarmed them with praise and introductions.

Nouke had only met Ahk’s older sisters once or twice in her youth. Most were married off to important husbands before she and Ahkmenrah were old enough to speak, but she did remember that they were all beautiful, kind people.

While she stumbled through each introduction, confusing names of sisters, husbands, nieces, and nephews, each welcomed her with open arms. As they caught up with their younger brother, Nouke stood at Ahk’s side, her heart swelling every time she found a piece of her husband in one of their expressions. Ahk, Set, and their oldest sister had a tendency to bite their lip before they smiled. His laugh was a perfect echo of his second oldest sister and all of them had strong jaws and expressive eyes. There was an entire repertoire of matching idiosyncrasies that made Ahkmenrah and his sister’s harmonious, and Nouke was never more delighted to be among a group of strangers.

***

Nouke was unsure how far into the night the celebration had lasted when she found herself longing for it to be over. The food and drinks continued to flow endlessly; the guests continued to dance and thrive in the convivial atmosphere without constraint. She alone seemed to beg for an end.

Sleep was far from her mind, yet the thrill of the festivities concluded when Shepseheret and Setshepsut pulled her away from Ahkmenrah, tasked with the obligation of introducing her to all the important ladies of Egypt in attendance.

The burden of duty, she thought, easily recalling each time Ahk had spoken of duty and frowned. At last, she understood. And just like her dutiful husband, Nouke wore a kind face and as regal a posture as she could manage, while her mother-in-law and sister-in-law paraded her from noble to noble.

Each woman greeted her with a respectful bow, yet not all their praise felt genuine, which made for a keenly distressing jumble of introductions and conversations. From awe to abhorrence, their lofty masks split to reveal the truth of how they saw her. Some commended her for coming from nothing, while others made it clear with only their icy tone, that the notion of a commoner queen repulsed them.

“Don’t let them get to you,” Set said in a timely fashion, just as Nouke’s anxiety was beginning to root in her bones again. The negativity and false faces were too much too quickly.

“Some of them are jealous, and some of them are upset my brother chose you over their daughters.” There was a smug quirk to Setshepsut’s lips that was enough to allay a sliver of Nouke’s malaise finding it to be a twin of Ahk’s smug simper.

Still, Nouke’s brows had difficulty not knitting together with inquiry.

“Did Ahkmen not tell you?” Set asked, her brows pulling together in a similar expression.

“Tell me what?”

Setshepsut’s features softened into a genuine, wholehearted smile, and she looked to her mother.

“When the council encouraged him to seek out a second wife, my husband sent for suitors,” Ahk’s mother explained, joining the conversation as they stood amid the sea of guests.

It should not have come as a surprise the handsome, young pharaoh would have a line of women waiting to wed him, and even though she’d married him hours prior, Nouke struggled to keep jealousy from twisting a frown onto her lips.

“Ahkmen denied them all,” Setshepsut assured her, once again swift enough to combat the nagging sensation the thought of suitors conjured. “He was already so in love with you; I'm not even sure he truly looked at any of them.”

Nouke’s smile grew firmer, “When did this all—”

“A few weeks before you showed up,” Set said happily. “It is as though the gods knew you needed one another.”

Nouke beamed, and while her words struggled to compile themselves to form a response, she knew Set was wise enough to understand that the feeling was the same.

“The gods always know what we need before we do,” Shep said in a scholarly tone, full of wisdom and warmth. “Which is why the gods blessed me with three daughters before a son. His kindness comes from all his sisters, and kindness can be just as powerful as any weapon a king could hold.”

The former queen’s sentiment was not lost on Nouke; Shepseheret's knowing expression provided enough context. Her son would always rule Egypt with a level head and no cruelty, unlike his brother.

A quiet moment passed as they idly scanned the crowd around them until Shepseheret’s elegant posture relaxed.

“I do believe we’ve met everyone.” She exhaled, releasing more of her queenly persona, looking every bit as exhausted from the charade as Nouke felt.

“I know those were a lot of names and faces, but it will spare you in the future,” Shepseheret explained, offering an apologetic smile. “It should keep them from showing up unannounced to introduce themselves.”

Nouke frowned, “They do that?”

Ahk’s sister nodded, frowning herself, looking more irritated than sad.

“Mmhm, any excuse to possibly gain more favor with the pharaoh.” Set threw a narrow-eyed glance around them. “Everyone here is not-so-secretly vying for the next-best position of power.”

Nouke’s frown pressed deeper into her features as she glanced at the party-goers through a new lens of understanding. It made so much sense suddenly—the grandeur of every detail—the frock and the praise and the forced well wishes. 

Every soul in the garden was there only for the prospect of selfish gain, be it for a seat at the pharaoh’s council or merely to nurse from the royal teat. They attended only to take whatever they could: meals and drink and entertainment when no guest in attendance ever knew a day of famine.

They owned no golden crown to mark them supreme over all, but they were mayors and governors—lords and ladies—who knew only lavishment and plentiful meals. None of them put in a day’s labor under the sun out of fear of going hungry. And still, they took what was provided freely with heedless greed.

The worst thought was that the pharaoh could do nothing but play along to ensure no offended party sought to overthrow him.

Queen for less than an evening and already the weight of it all seemed crushing.

“I’m going to find Ahk,” Nouke announced, suddenly in need of his warmth after hours of only cold faces.

“Thank you,” she added with a genuine smile, grateful to have them both to ease her into her new life.

A sickly air of melancholy swept over Egypt's new queen as she wandered the party alone, her inner thoughts a tangled web that drastically contrasted the joviality enduring around her. Nouke felt her usual spirit unexpectedly laden: overwhelmed and acutely out of place among a legion of highborn faces. Their mocking expressions could not be overshadowed by the few wholesome gazes that met her as she walked making her spirit heavier.

Every non-distracted face and sober mind bid her a bow as she maneuvered passed, each act making her wonder whether they saw a queen or a servant strolling by.

The envy was easiest to catch on the young faces of potential queens; each one of them beauties Ahkmenrah passed up to tie himself eternally to her. Nouke did garner a hint of pride at that particular thought, manifesting with a well-hidden smirk.

Nevertheless, by the time her feet carried her across the spacious garden to its center where the twin thrones sat, Nouke felt thin—like the threadbare garments, riddled with holes, she wore on her farm. She lingered a moment in the open area between the masses of guests and her throne, letting her focus slip into the distance with a deep inhale, and a slow exhale. Only after several slow, calculated breaths did her spirit find its center once more, bringing a much-needed wave of calm.

The abrupt sound of children laughing quickly stole Nouke’s focus, and the sight she found was enough to devour the remaining traces of melancholy. Instantaneously her face erupted into a grin so wide it hurt to hold. All at once, the heaviness in her heart melted into a warmth that swelled to fill her entire body with adoration. 

Upon the lordly stage, where the thrones sat unoccupied, was Ahkmenrah and a slew of his tiny nieces and nephews. All of them were laughing and smiling as their uncle playfully chased them with a mischievous smirk on his lips, his fingers outstretched and threatening to tickle them. Nouke’s heart fluttered, and tears prickled her eyes as she pictured their children running and giggling as Ahkmenrah chased them; beautiful babes with ringlets, blue eyes and smiles that rivaled the sun. What a wonderful vision.

The smallest of Ahk’s nephews let out a yelp when he scooped the boy into his arms, his cry immediately followed by a barrage of shrieks and laughs as his uncle tossed him into the air. When the pharaoh caught him, Ahk kissed the boy’s cheek before releasing him. The little boy let out another mirthful cry as his tiny legs carried him into the crowd the moment his feet met the ground. Ahkmenrah’s grin was like magic, unfurling slow, with ample affection as he watched his nephew vanish into the sea of people.

Several of the other children ran after the toddler, all carrying on with convivial squeals that somehow made the pharaoh’s grin even brighter. Only one of his nieces remained, older than most of the other kids, but still small enough to warrant her yanking on her uncle's cape to get his attention. Ahk turned his radiant smile upon her, and she matched its vibrance when he scooped her up as well, neatly tumbling backward onto the wide seat of his throne.

The little girl cackled as they expertly fell, reaching with wonderment in her eyes for the golden crown on her uncle’s head. Ahk’s smile touched his eyes as he carefully removed it and placed the headpiece on her head. Immediately it slipped past her ears and nose, causing her to giggle as she pushed it back far enough on her crown to see. She stood in Ahkmenrah’s lap, throwing her arm around his neck for a quick hug before mussing his hair.

A second later, the girl hopped from his lap with an excited squeal and ran to join the other children, her uncle's crown still on her head.

Ahkmenrah chuckled a delightful sounding bellow that shook his entire body with joy as he settled back into his throne effortlessly. He took a long swig from his goblet that was precariously perched on the wide arm of his chair, relaxing.

All at once, the warmth in her chest dripped further down, becoming something much more immodest than the virtuous affection it had been only a moment ago. Never had Nouke been so compelled to sit on someone’s lap. Seeing her husband forgoing his perfect posture for a lax slouch, legs sprawled wide in front of him, with the curls on his head an unruly mess, made her tingle and ache.

He was like poetry in motion, and all hers. 

The keenly alluring sight of her husband perched so prettily on his throne, with a hint of kingly arrogance playing around his upturned lips—brought on by the drink in his hand—was like flint on steel. Sparks stoked molten heat to spill to her core; like a pot boiling over, the wave of longing begged for attention. No routine introduction or beckon of duty was going to keep her from taking advantage of such an enticing sight. The liquid desire coursing through her veins evoked a brazen want that Nouke clung to, allowing it to bleed into her movements. Her sultry gait quickly caught the pharaoh’s attention and the moment their eyes met; Ahkmenrah's playfully arrogant smirk spread into a wide, adoring, and proud smile.

“My queen,” he purred, welcoming her into his lap gladly when she lithely perched herself there, tucking her legs at either side of him.

She swept her fingers through his unruly curls, no longer able to quell the desire to do so, before her hands came to rest at the back of his neck. A gentle hum vibrated from deep in his chest at the glide of her fingers over his scalp, and his eyes fluttered shut as he savored their feel. Just the sound was enough to prickle her touch starved skin in a wave of goosebumps.

As her fingers wove and played absently with the hair at the back of his head, the queen met her king's eyes in a gaze that transcended all others; an exchange marked with wonderment, as though the meaning of life itself was transcribed in the smoldering colors of each other’s eyes.

Nouke’s heart was beating with a familiar, anticipatory fervor; every passing moment without kissing him moved painfully slow. There were hundreds of wandering eyes, but sensibility was lost when she was under the worship of Ahk's stormy gaze. He looked upon her as though she was the only living being in the universe; a mix of awe and affection that coupled sublimely with the quirk of rascally desire on his lips.

Ahkmenrah's own aura was inherently beguiling, effortlessly eating away every rational thought until Nouke found it impossible to douse the growing fire within her, wandering eyes be damned.  

Shamelessly, she took his bottom lip between hers, teasing a brush of her tongue over the sensitive skin until Ahk welcomed the kiss with a hungry sound. Nouke leaned closer, controlling the lascivious play of his lips and tongue, purring agreeably at the delicious taste of her king's mouth under her own. 

Ahkmenrah artlessly abandoned his goblet, the clank of the chalice against the stone ground barely registered when his hands came to moor at the small of her back, and the heat of his fanning fingers consumed all her senses. He drew her closer still, the slight friction against his frame utterly divine as their kiss built with a burst of fervor. It deepened and expanded, her hands holding his jaw as their joined passion became something inevitably bigger than they both could contain. Nouke’s sober mind grew drunk with lust when his heavy breath swept over her skin; Ahk’s low gasp curling around her spine. Every sensitive part of her was tingling. She wanted him. Needed him. 

When they parted to find their breath, the blue of Ahkmenrah’s eyes was narrow; a thin ring around wide pools of black, and he blinked slowly, watching her with feline intensity.

“Are you enjoying the festivities, my love?” he asked once his breathing calmed. His tone was like velvet, warm and luxurious; a bravado that actively attempted to unravel any trace of composure she had left.

Nouke’s lips quirked into a coy smirk as she considered her answer until she decided to reply with a kiss; her words tangled in the haze of her desire. Her hands surrendered their delicate press to the edge of his jaw, blunt nails raking over the skin of his neck, mapping the jeweled wesekh and down further over the lean muscles of his torso until she found the bulge under the silky fabric of his shendyt.

The pharaoh shifted and gasped a choked sound as his eyes fluttered with mild shock, lips trembling into a grin. With a purr and a mischievous simper of her own, Nouke palmed him, the sensation of his girth twitching and growing with even the slightest touch instilled Egypt's new queen with pleasurable power no crown could ever foster.

“I am now,” she whispered against his ear, and when she flicked her tongue to taste the soft lobe, Ahkmenrah groaned.

The strain to keep his kingly resolve in front of potentially gauging eyes only made Nouke want him more. His eyes fluttered shut as she pumped him slowly, watching as he gnawed his bottom lip to combat the need to express his pleasure with a wanton cry. 

Another rampant surge of power tore through her in a wave that heightened each of her senses and dripped to her own arousal. The desire to hear every sound she could coax out of her handsome pharaoh fueled every movement. She worked down his covered length, brushing her pinky over his sensitive tip, and when he moaned, Nouke muffled it with a burning kiss. An impish grin worked onto her face while she sucked and nibbled his bottom lip until her resolve folded as her mind and senses blurred with lust.

Ahkmenrah was quick to pick up the shift in her ministrations, their kiss stealing some of her confident vigor. The distraction of his lips allowed him to gather her dress just enough for his fingers to find her heated center. Without ceremony, he glided two digits through her slick folds, and he grinned.

“So wet for me,” he murmured, his thumb sweeping quick circles over her sensitive nub with enough pressure to make her gasp.

The shock of his delicious fingers was enough to make her forget the scene around them.

“Oh! Ahk!” she bit out louder than she should have. Instantly her vision flashed white and her once preoccupied hands anchored themselves to his strong shoulders.

“Shhhh,” he admonished gently, pumping his fingers slowly and just enough to send Nouke reeling.

All rational thought abandoned her, leaving her to the mercy of her own desires and her husband's gifted fingers. Suddenly, Nouke cared little about who may have taken notice of their less than proper behavior.

Wantonly, she rolled her hips into his cupped hand, its heel providing the friction she longed for. A jolt of pleasure pulsed through her, and her walls squeezed tight around Ahk’s wide fingers, causing them both to moan.

“I do so love the intimacy of large gatherings,” he mused, watching her as she skirted around the edge of unravel, so very close to coming undone already. “Everyone is entirely too caught up in everything else to notice anything. . . peculiar.”

Nouke gasped when Ahk pressed the heel of his hand against her clit with a sweeping motion that triggered a wave of euphoria so grand his name tumbled heedlessly from her mouth again. The pharaoh pressed a finger to her lips to shush her cry, throwing her a devilish grin.

“That is, of course, if you don’t make too much noise.”

Even through her half-lidded, hazy vision, Ahkmenrah’s impish smirk was easy to make out: supremely proud of his innate ability to properly sate her.

In a rapidly diminishing moment of clarity, Nouke drew his thumb into her mouth, tongue curling around the digit, sucking and hallowing her cheeks until the act won her a groan from her husband, giving her a taste of satisfaction. 

Had she been capable of more than a solitary moment of coherent thought, Nouke would have happily gone back to teasing him, but her body was greedily playing into his game; surrendering to desire with eager desperation. Nouke released his thumb when her mouth fell open with another cry of pleasure as her hips bucked against the soft heel of his hand.

The pharaoh’s free hand moved to cradle her throat, the brush of his finger so soft. His warm lips followed his touch, trailing from her jaw to her neck, as his hand fell to palm the globe of her breast. Even through the fabric of her dress, her nipples stiffened wantonly at his contact, her head falling back, body shivering. Nouke husked out a ragged sigh, a helpless cry that wanted to be more, but he shushed her again just as gently as before. Warmth curled through her body, triggered by the timbre of his soft chide, making the muscles in her abdomen so, so tight.

“Come for me,” Ahk murmured low against her ear, his teeth grazing the soft skin of her lobe.

Nouke bit out a sharp inhale when his confident fingers began working her in earnest, steering her with precision to that heavenly peak. Another moan spilled past her lips as everything inside coiled hot, and tense and hard.

“Quiet, my love,” he warned softly, and she could hear his smile.

“Come for me, my beautiful queen,” he encouraged, hooking his fingers perfectly.

That was enough.

The velvet of his voice in her ear coupled with the feel of his hand circling the aching cluster of nerves at her center swelled until it burst, surging throughout her body like lightning from the tips of her fingers to her curling toes. Every nerve was on fire with ecstasy.

The intensity secured her to his shoulders with a white-knuckled grip, afraid she would fall. Her lips parted with rolling whimpers and tiny cries she could not contain, riding out her pleasure as quietly as she could will herself to do.

“Perfect…” Ahkmenrah marveled, completely beguiled by the sight of her undoing.

When the waves of her pleasure shifted into small tremors of aftershock, Ahk withdrew his fingers, leaving Nouke suddenly bereft. She whined on account, blinking slowly until her vision came back to her.

Despite the threat of wandering eyes, Ahkmenrah pushed each slick digit into his mouth, indecently sucking and licking them clean, his expression utterly smug.

Little by little, the entirety of Nouke’s senses returned to her; the lusty haze dissipating enough for her to lay her focus on her handsome husband who was ogling her with playful arrogance.

Immediately she cursed herself for allowing Ahk to get the upper hand. He ruled every night they spent together—not that she minded; Ahkmenrah was an attentive, generous lover. However, Nouke felt it more than fair she got a chance to be smug, to send him reeling. No longer could he hold over her the guise of the powerful pharaoh who did as he pleased. She was a queen, and she was going to prove it.  

Nouke shifted in his lap, a sly gambit to test the state of his arousal. She licked her lips feeling his hard length beneath her; the peak of her tongue making Ahk’s lewd smirk grow. Nouke matched his arrogant grin, and the change in her body language sent a devious twinkle into Ahkmenrah’s lust dark eyes.

Before he could, Nouke kissed him, pushing her lips on his with prurient vigor stemming from the irresistible need to be the master of his undoing. The phantom feel of his fingers inside her encouraged her movements, her wet center grinding against his clothed cock. A low groan rumbled from deep in his chest.

“Shhh,” she admonished teasingly.

Nouke grinned when his blunt fingernails pressed into her hips in an attempt to quiet his own cries as her body continued to roll against him. She kept her hands at either side of his face to hold him where she wanted, controlling every movement of their kisses.

Ahk’s tongue was warm and velveteen like his voice, the inside of his mouth damp and hot, and when he made another low groan, it wound around her with warmth. Ravenous need began to whirl and tighten deep in her belly once more, and for a moment all traces of playfulness was scoured away leaving only breathless need.

Nouke willed herself to focus, breaking their kiss long enough for the haze to settle, carding her fingers through his dark hair as she met his eyes. They were half-lidded and sparkling—the blue-gray she loved nearly consumed by black. The more or less smug twist on his kiss swollen lips did well to lend Nouke a rational thought: a reminder not to let him win the game again so quickly.

Once more, her hips rolled against his pulsing length, coercing soft hums and groans past his lips in a beautifully soft fanfare that worked between Nouke’s thighs as she fought off a cry of her own. She tugged his bottom lip with her teeth before moving to the heavenly angle of his jaw, her tongue tasting its sharp edge from his chin to the soft skin behind his ear.

Ahk inhaled sharply, his mouth falling open as her name spilled heedlessly off his tongue in a tone too loud to be a whisper. His hips bucked in helpless abandon, arousing another strangled moan deep in his chest, and Nouke stopped.

The pharaoh’s breath hitched at the unexpected end to her ministrations, and the sudden loss of her body against his prompted a whimper. Nouke reveled at the sight of his blinking, wild eyes searching her face for an explanation while she nonchalantly took her time re-situating her gown and jewelry.

Right where I want you, she thought, stretching her legs to allow blood to flow.

Her husband was still blinking, looking profoundly bereft and confused when she threw him a coy smirk. A flash of her tongue to tease and wet her lips caused him to swallow—hard—and his mouth fell open, as though he wanted to speak.

All Ahk managed, however, was another choked whine.

Nouke held his gaze for only a moment before turning without a word, ambling into the crowd with an air of mystery she knew would see him venturing after her—once he’d calmed himself down first. 

This time, as the new queen strolled through the mass of party guests, her spirit was buzzing with a puckish charm that carried her feet across the garden in a buoyant stride leaving her oblivious to any mask of disdain thrown her way.

It wasn’t long before she found a vacant corner, free of guests and guards; a quick discovery that made Nouke smirk. Ahkmenrah was right, there was a certain level of solitude that correlated to large gatherings, and she was abundantly grateful.

The sounds of celebration faded into the distance as the fervent beat of her heart grew more prominent in her ears. Only a few minutes passed, but Nouke was impatient. Every nerve in her body was aching to finally have Ahkmenrah buried deep inside of her; ready to feel that coiling spring snap for a second time as she was lost in the feel of him.

However, neither she nor her husband would know that satisfaction until he paid for what he’d done; defiling her proudly and publicly—the perfect justification to have her way.

The moment he found her leaning against the high stone wall; Ahk's eyes devoured her. Nouke recognized the look of animalistic need on his face—she felt it in herself—and the second he stepped into her orbit, heat pulsed to her core. Hastily, she clenched her thighs in an attempt to deter her own want.

Make him yours, she reminded herself.

But Ahkmenrah’s hands and mouth were already on her. He pressed her against the wall with avid hunger and a low, sensual growl that was almost enough to steal the teasing Nouke had in mind. The pharaoh was so decadent and rich to taste—a nectar that was so sweet; it made her feel helpless each time his kiss was deep and full of passion. It took all of her will power not to drown in the luxuriousness of his tongue and mouth.

 “I do not like seeing you walk away from me like that,” he scolded, his pouty upper lip close enough to brush against hers as he spoke.

The bass note of his voice dropped sinfully low, and the lascivious fire in his eyes was difficult to look away from. His words prompted a chill to work down her spine as he pinned her harder against the wall.

Slowly, a familiar haze began to cloud her mind when his warm lips seared a line of wet kisses down her neck, sucking and nibbling until soft purple marks burnished the surface of her skin. Each one he tasted with a wide sweep of his tongue, making her hum gentle encouragement—sinking further into his ministrations.

Nouke’s nails dug into his biceps, leaving tiny red crescents, her body bucking wantonly against his—betraying her rationale. Ahk had a talent for unraveling her resolve.

With what clarity remained, Nouke pushed through the haze. Her fingers sunk deeper into the muscles of his arms, sureing her grip, and with a calculated spin she pinned him against the wall.

The sudden rush of power was like a drug in her veins, spreading wild with desire she couldn’t quell. An impish smirk drew her lips with a curl seeing the look of shock in his big, beautiful eyes, and she quickly covered him with her whole body. Her nails raked possessively down his arms as her hips rolled against his middle, relishing in his hard length pressed against her center.

When he moaned, she kissed him until the air was taken from his lungs, leaving him panting and thirsty for more. Ahk hissed and bucked under the friction of her undulating movements, and Nouke’s lips trailed down the line of his throat, suckling on his fluttering pulse.

“My queen…” he sighed raggedly with exuberant praise of encouragement.

Her mouth climbed inexorably upward, along the column of his neck to the edge of his jaw, and Ahk’s head rolled against the wall. She coaxed a groan from his lips as she suckled her own marks on his flawless skin, tasting each before mapping the rest of his enticing throat with her mouth.

While her lips explored, Nouke’s hands wandered the lean plates of his chest and torso, calloused fingertips raking over the tight muscles of his abdomen before venturing lower, untying his fanciful belt with practiced ease.

Ahkmenrah’s moan was low and loud when she gripped him through the fabric of his shendyt, the sound eliciting tendrils of warmth to pool in her center. Nouke stroked him lazily over his silky garments, her focus lost in every guttural sound she was able to cajole out of him.

Her hand stilled, prompting a whimper and she blazed a line of kisses to his ear.

“Would you like your queen to kneel before her king?” She grinned when his skin erupted in goosebumps, inspiring another wave of power to envelope her.

“Yes,” Ahk swallowed.

“Yes, what?” she murmured, sliding a single finger under the waistline of his shendyt.

“Yes, my queen,” he husked out just as her fingers dipped bellow the fabric and curled around his cock.

A string of profanities spilled from his lips and his head rolled against the wall; Nouke watched with avid thrill as he unraveled with every slow stroke she offered. She surged forward to kiss him in a hasty brush of lips before tasting her way down his body, humming pleasantly at the feel of his muscles shifting under her mouth.

Every sound and instinctual movement of his body chasing the pleasure she stimulated rushed through her own like fire. Nouke's thighs were slick with her own arousal, her core ready and begging to accommodate him.

A sort of sigh escaped Ahkmenrah’s mouth when she released his throbbing cock to kneel in front of him. She could feel his lustful gaze upon her, and she met it, tugging gently at the fabric that hid him until the garment slipped past his slim hips, all the way to his ankles.

His freed cock jutted proudly, and she licked her lips taking in the sight of his kingly grandeur—there truly wasn’t a part of him that wasn’t perfect.

When she glanced to meet his gaze, she found it half-crazed with lust, pleading for her to touch him. A mischievous smirk quirked onto her lips as she leaned to press soft kisses to each of his hip bones, causing him to whine until finally, she took mercy on him.

Gently, she curled her fingers around him, letting her thumb swirl the pearly bead of precum over his sensitive tip, feeling him shiver and hiss from the sensation. She squeezed him to reacquaint herself with his girth before stroking him once, delighted with the way he trembled against her.

He was a vision of licentious need, and Nouke was certain no queen ever felt so powerful on her knees as she did then.

Nouke kept eye contact as her tongue unfurled to taste him, licking his entire length before taking him into her mouth. A haggard string of curses tumbled off of his tongue, groaning as he pushed his hands into her hair to keep her head still against the slight thrust of his hips, fucking her mouth slowly until her tongue swirled over his tip.

Ahk’s body stilled and tensed as Nouke dipped and suckled, cheeks hallowing as her hand worked his base until with an impetus shove, he pushed her away.

“I need you,” he proclaimed urgently, pulling her to her feet and into a sloppy kiss.

“Yes,” she agreed against his mouth without protest. 

Nouke welcomed his weight when he turned to pin her to the wall, the swift gesture awakening something dark and primal in them both. Without ceremony, Ahkmenrah freed her breasts from the gown she wore, humming delightfully, his palms instantly molding to the globes like his hands were made to hold them. He kneaded and pinched until her nipples stiffened, and when he leaned to kiss the soft underside before dragging his tongue over the stiff peak, Nouke moaned loudly feeling his smile of satisfaction.

Every part of her was more sensitive to his touch than ever before, his hot breath tingled over her skin as he kissed his way up her torso to her mouth. Her fingers trembled as she gathered her dress before swinging her leg around his waist to draw his center against hers.

In a single perfect thrust, Ahk glided to fill her, completely engulfed and could go no further. They moaned in unison, the sudden pleasure almost enough to work them over the edge in one fell swoop.

His movements were slow at first, surely an attempt to draw out every moment of their pleasure, and she tightened around him at the same rhythm, watching his eyes darken and flutter until his thrusts became the paradigm of desperation. Nouke’s head rolled against the stone wall, staccato moans of absolute lechery spilling from her mouth as her husband fucked her hard.

The pharaoh buried his face in the crook of her neck, his teeth nipping the darkening spots of lavender he’d kindled previously, each bite shooting a luscious chill throughout her whole body.

Nouke gasped and keened, free to make any and every sound he coaxed out of her this time, and he did the same. Every hungry thrust teetered precariously between calculated and clumsy. One, a mindful push that aroused glorious friction, while the next was a carnal shove that yielded both pain and pleasure.

Her fingers twisted into the short hairs at the back of his head, pressing against him to better angle herself to meet every thrust. Immediately she was rewarded with a fresh wave of heat that seeped to where they were joined, arousing a moan to pass between them.

“Ahk,” she cried, so close and almost in tears from the intense waves of pleasure he sparked with every thrust like nothing she’d ever felt.

Nouke clung to him with an iron grip despite her rapidly diminishing strength. She choked out another moan when his hand hoisted her other leg around his waist, creating a new angle that found her sweet spot every time his hips hammered into her.

Sweat beaded to cool her skin, provoking more chills to work down her spine, coupling euphorically with every other sensation vibrating through each nerve ending.

“Ahk…” she husked out again in a plea, the muscles in her abdomen constricting, her walls growing tighter around his cock as her climax built.

His lust-filled eyes took several moments to find their focus as his hand moved to cradle her throat—a gesture of prideful passion—squeezing just enough to propel a fierce jolt of heat to every hollow and shadowed place inside her. Nouke’s muscles grew impossibly tighter, back bowing in reaction.

Ahkmenrah’s hand was still on her throat when he found the focus to drink in the sight of his queen. The lewd intensity in his black eyes was something that, even through her hazy vision, made Nouke powerless against him.

“This time I want you to scream,” he demanded with a growl and a crooked smirk. “Come for your king, and scream so everyone knows you are mine.”

As he spoke, his hot breath scorched across her overly stimulated skin, causing the build-up of tension to snap at once. She screamed as everything uncoiled in a white-hot rush. Nouke’s vision tunneled, forcing her eyes shut, tears ruining the kohl as they streamed down her face at the manifestation of her joyous pleasure.

The erratic pulse of her walls worked Ahkmenrah to the brink, hips trembling as he reached his peak a moment later. He cried her name into the air with a chanted refrain that echoed the movements of his thrusts until he filled her; hot cum coating her walls, mixing with her own.

Her head rolled forward onto his shoulder, its weight suddenly too much to manage as she came down from her high, sounding a haggard but satisfied sigh. Ahk mimicked the motion, resting close enough to plant soft, barely there, kisses to her neck and shoulder as he held her with all his remaining strength.

“Did I hurt you, my love?” he asked in a calming murmur that was free of his previous, dominating bravado.

After a couple more steady breaths, Nouke raised her head to meet his gaze; his eyes were blue again—the lusty blackness chased away. There was a twinge of concern on his compassionate features that made her heart swell as he searched for an answer in her expression.

A gentle smile spread over her lips as her fingers mapped the line of his jaw in feather-light touches; her eyes fixated on his, enchanted by the kindness glistening in them.

“No,” she said, her smile growing. “On the contrary.”

Ahkmenrah beamed and joined their lips in a lazy passionate kiss.

Incrementally they unwound themselves from the other, and immediately Nouke missed the feeling of him inside of her. By the look on his face, Ahkmenrah shared the bereft feeling and made a point of keeping himself pressed to her body as they stood.

“Do you think anyone heard us?” Nouke asked with a coy smirk playing around her mouth and eyes, unable to look away from her husband's swollen lips.

He teased her with a flash of his tongue, making them shine deliciously in the starlight. Ahk stole a glance around, then met her with a cheeky smirk.

“It doesn’t appear so,” he paused. “Perhaps we should try again?”

His brow hoisted high into a playful arch as his hands wove behind her, giving her ass a firm squeeze.

“If you think you’re up to it.” Nouke matched his grin and tangled her fingers in his thick hair, gently massaging his scalp.

Ahkmenrah closed his eyes and purred at the sensation of her blunt nails working the crown of his head. He stole a quick kiss before his entire face erupted into a toothy, arrogant smile.

“You doubt your king?”

“Never.”

Nouke claimed his lips again, feeling each of their impish grins mold into a soulful and demanding show of effortless passion. It took only the sweep of his tongue begging for entrance to prompt the familiar heat to begin to build once more, and when he moaned, she did too. They were blatantly aware how easy it would be to chase their pleasure to completion a second and third time, and both of them didn’t care. They were making up for lost time.

Ahkmenrah was already semi-hard; the growing length of his cock pressed against her making her ache, and she whimpered impatiently.

“Always so eager,” Ahk mused, reaching as he dipped a finger between her slick folds; the surprise almost enough to send her careening back over the edge.

Before Nouke could bite out a witty response, the sound of Setshepsut’s voice broke their serenity.

“Nouke!?”

The sudden sound rendered their roaming hands and lips immobile and Ahkmenrah cursed under his breath with a defeated smirk.

“Apparently, my sister heard us.” Although his tone was annoyed, his expression was amused.

When Set’s call came again, it was closer, causing the king and queen to scramble in a rushed attempt to make themselves look respectable; as if the purple and red marks on both their necks weren’t evidence of their rendezvous.

“Nouke?!...Oh! Ahkmen, have you seen Nou—”

Ahk was still tying his shendyt when he turned to cast her a grin. And while Nouke couldn’t see it, she knew it was undoubtedly gushing with shameless gusto and telling enough to match his hastily adorned attire and wayward curls.

“What’s the matter, Set?” Ahk asked as he casually bent to retrieve his discarded belt and refastened it.

Setshepsut’s eye watched him, blinking, mouth slightly open as though her words were suddenly lost.

“I—um—heard Nouke scream…” she decided on, abruptly looking as though she regretted investigating the sound.

The pharaoh tossed a quick look to his queen behind him, then met his sister with a prideful smirk, “I assure you; we are both quite well.”

Set nodded, casting a swaying glance to them both, “I see that.”

She paused to give her brother a mock look of disapproval, “I am aware the future of Egypt relies on you producing an heir, but some of your guests have noticed your absence. I suggest you finish this up.”

She eyed them both with a quirk tugging the corner of her lips that made it clear she was more amused than dismayed.

“Of course, Set. We were only doing our duty as king and queen,” Ahkmenrah teased further, and Setshepsut rolled her eyes.

“Mmhmm,” she hummed as she turned away to make her way back to the party.

“We probably should go back,” Nouke sighed as she smoothed out the wrinkled front of her dress.

The allure of staying tucked away with Ahkmenrah was almost too much to ignore, but the beckon of responsibility was stronger. When he glided effortlessly into her orbit, wrapping his arms around her waist, she reached to comb her fingers through his hair in an attempt to tame the messy curls she couldn’t keep from touching.

“Mmm,” Ahk purred, brushing the tip of his nose over her’s gently. “We do have the rest of our lives to spend together.”

He never looked away from her, his eyes crystal clear.

“I think we can afford to share the rest of this night with people who came to celebrate us,” he added as he pulled her into one last kiss that drifted into a slow draw that embodied the depth of his love.

“Are you with me, my love?” Ahkmenrah wove their fingers together as he spoke.

“Now and forever,” Nouke nodded. 

Next Chapter-> Chapter Seventeen: The Blessings We Deserve

[lovesickjoon]

little more bite - kth (m)

pairing: taehyung/reader

rating: NSFW (18+), read tags carefully pls

genre: smut, wolf!hybrid x panther!hybrid

words: 5k+

description: after a shitty day at work, you're determined to go home and snuggle up with your blankets to watch netflix. sadly, the universe and this mutt named taehyung don't seem to want that to happen, though. 

warnings: dom!tae, outside sex, sex with a stranger, unprotected sex (not a good idea, kids), (slight) breeding kink, overuse of the word 'kitten', oral, road rage, p much everything lmao. 

notes: this is kind of a mess, and it’s a bit silly at first. i wrote it on a whim. btw, tae does come off as intimidating at first, but everything works out. ok? dw.

A tall, tan, and handsome man rapping his knuckles on your car window would usually seem like a great thing. Except, this one didn't have a particularly happy facial expression. It wasn't broad daylight, either. The man also didn't have a piece of paper held up to your window with a phone number written on it. 

(A story for another time). 

This man was definitely not here to be friendly. Instead, the mutt was here to yell at you because he had an extraordinarily awful day.

Luckily for him, you had a rather terrible day too. Little did he know, he was messing with the wrong cat.

You turn your attention to the man, and he stops tapping on your window.

"Did you get your fucking drivers license from a cereal box? Why the fuck are you stopped in the middle of the road?" the man hissed, ears twitching in annoyance. Before you can even spit out an explanation, you hear him murmur under his breath about you being a 'stupid cat.'

He takes a step back from the car and glimpses down the road to make sure no vehicles were coming. You roll down your window a crack. You weren't quite angry enough yet to put the window all the way down.

"Excuse me, mutt? Do you want to speak up?" you ask, raising your voice threateningly.

"You heard me loud and clear, but I'll repeat it since you're a little slow," he smirks. Through his fake smile and clenched teeth, he slowly repeats his earlier insult. "You. Are. Fucking. Dense," he says, emphasizing each word.

"Though, I don't know why I'm surprised. You're a cat after all."

That was it! He was not about to get away with this name-calling bullshit.

"What's your problem?" you ask, flinging open the car door. You nearly hit him in the process of stepping out, but he doesn't flinch. The night air is chilly, and you really wish you were at home. You could be wrapped in a burrito of blankets, and be drinking something nice and warm. Instead, you were stuck here with this asshole.

You slam your car door behind you, swiftly approaching him with confidence. The man has a wicked smirk planted on his face. A little voice in the back of your head yells at the top of its lungs. The voice screams at you and tells you that you've just walked into a trap.

The back of your mind jumps from thought bubble to another thought bubble.

'Kidnapping?'

The next idea your mind bounces to has your blood running cold.

'Sex trafficking?' Oh my god. No.

As you grow closer and closer to him, the burst of confidence dissipates.

It took maybe a total of four or five steps to be eye to eye with him. The smirk remains plastered to his face, and he waits. What exactly had you planned to do when you walked up to him? This man was so much bigger than you, the chances of you winning in a conflict were slim.

By the time you've come up with something to do or say, you notice that he has become distracted by something behind you. You open your mouth to speak but snap it shut to glance behind you. To your astonishment, he has snatched up your tail and is yanking it. You try to leap out of his reach, but he has a solid grip on your tail. Heat rushes to your cheeks and embarrassment burns in your veins.

Did he think you were some sort of fucking toy that he could play with?

"You son of a bitch!" you snarl, grabbing your tail from his palms. He registers your reaction as being one of anger, and not as one of embarrassment. You read his reaction as genuine, guessing that he did it without thinking. "What? It was flicking from side to side, and you expect me not to try to stop it? It's annoying."

You find yourself wanting to laugh, but you're so flustered you can't. This guy had to be a complete lunatic. He was acting like more of a cat than you were. Really? Chasing after something because it's moving.

You huff and smooth out your clothes. He might not have known any better, considering he isn't a panther hybrid. Tails were extremely sensitive, and something that no one but the person the tail is attached too should touch. You tried to ignore the stir in your lower region, now was really not the time.

"And I'm the dumb one?" you scoff, rolling your eyes.

He couldn't form his next sentence faster than you could, so you bulldozed your way right into the original topic. "Since you apparently have a problem with cat hybrids, let's talk about it. Why do you hate us so much? Did your dad leave your mother for a cat or something?  Or is it because you can't get any pussy?"

His eyebrows raise, and you can tell he is taken aback slightly because of your words. The surprise disappeared from his face and was replaced with an emotion you couldn't place. "Trust me, baby. I've had plenty of practice with pussy. In fact, I bet I could make this pussy" — He jabs his finger lightly into your shoulder, indicating that he's now talking about you. — "feel the best it's ever felt."

You cross your arms, shooting daggers at him with your eyes. Was he serious? You were not about to...

"You're all talk and no action. Show me something, then. Stop barking and bite already."

The words have slipped out before you can reel them in. Despite him being a complete stranger, a part of you was eager to test it. You wanted to tip the scales to see how he would react. This man was clearly very bold. In fact, you could almost see the confidence rolling off of his form.

When he took a step forward, you realized that this was him accepting your challenge.

The action had you taking a step back, as much as you didn't want to budge. It was instinct. You should find the nearest tree and run up it to hide.  

There was a very vivid fire raging in those dark eyes. Though it thrilled you, you couldn't stop the slight tremble of your hands. You advanced too far and now he was willing to put you in your place. You yearned to be brave and stand up to him, but yet you kept retreating backward.

Eventually, there was no more space left. The back of your leg connected with the side of your car, and you knew you were done for. The man was up in your face once again. The man reaches around the back of your neck and tows you close. You're trapped between him and your car. You can feel the warm breath against your neck, and you're sure your expression gives away how shocked you are.

He still seems to show some restraint, not touching you anywhere except for the back of your neck with his palm. "You wanted to see action, baby? You got it."

The pet name rolls off of his tongue so smoothly you feel as if you're going to melt. You can get a strong whiff of his scent from how close he is now. There wasn't an easy way to describe it. The closest explanation would be that he smells like he works in a flower shop. and that flower shop is directly across from a bakery. You would call it calming, but it was in no way calming when it was wafting off the stranger that had you leaned up against your own car.

"You still sure you want some of this? Hm, kitten?" he questions, moving back to look you in the eyes. You gulp, unsure of the exact meaning of his words.

The hesitation is clear as day, and your internal struggle is evident to him.

"Just say no, and I'll back off," he mumbles. He brings the hand that was placed on your car to your face and gently caresses it. "Don't over think it. If you don't want this, let me know."

The anxiety in your chest is replaced with a strange, aching warmth. He didn't seem like a freak any longer. He was still bold and a little quirky, but not someone who would hurt you. Any other person, any other day, would the odd feeling in your chest still be there? You didn't know, but maybe there was something different about him that caused you to want to trust him. Hopefully, you weren't about to regret this.

Feeling a little more reassured now, you try to channel the confidence from earlier. It's as if you can physically feel it bubble back up and out of your throat. "Fuck yeah, what are you waiting for, mutt?" you nod.

A deep rumble comes from his chest, and the sliver of softness you saw from earlier is gone. He shoves his body fully against yours, letting his hands roam. He twists you around abruptly, so your back is to him. He bends you over the hood of your car. The material of your shirt is rather thin, and the cold isn't blocked very well like this.

"What's your name, sweet thing?" he asks roughly. At this angle, you couldn't see him, but you knew damn well those sharp eyes were scouring every inch of your figure. "Well?" he huffs.

You can't seem to speak fast enough for his taste, because he swats your ass once and then twice without a bit of hesitation. You mewl out your name helplessly, feeling delighted by the sting.

"Oh, you liked that? Didn't you, Y/n? Pretty name for a gorgeous girl. I'm Taehyung."

The taunt brings warmth to your face. He doesn't stop there though, he makes it his motive to see you flustered. "Do you want me to take you against the car, baby? Anyone in the world could drive by and see you. They'd be glad they decided to drive down this road, though, wouldn't they?" He asks, bringing down his hand on your ass once more.

"Pretty little slut bent over a car, who wouldn't want to see that?" He rumbles.

You're joking?

As if on cue, you spot the headlights of a truck.

Just your luck.

You instantly start to claw away from Taehyung, ready to hide. Taehyung releases his hold on you and nudges you towards the tall field. You peer back to see what he's doing, and you can tell he is as genuinely surprised as you are.

"Go," he points towards the field.

Your face scrunches up in confusion, and he jabs his finger in the same direction. "They're going to stop if they see two cars stopped on the side of the road. I'll be there soon."

The hum of the truck grows closer, and you scramble toward the field.  In a split second, you're hidden in the depths of the cornfield. It was pretty hard to see where you were going, but you did your best. The moon was still bright enough that you could vaguely make out what was what, at least. A slight trail is left behind you from where you've shimmied around the thick stocks or have simply shoved it away.

The feeling of the husks brushing against your bare thighs made you cringe. This had to happen the day you wear a skirt, didn't it? You find a slight clearing in the field, and sit down in the middle of the area.

A sudden thought hits you. Why hadn't you just hopped in your own car?

Well, maybe it would've looked like Taehyung was harassing you while you were broke down on the side of the road. Really, though? His first thought was to tell you to go into the fucking cornfield so you could get abducted by aliens?

And your first thought was to listen?

Realistically, you should be more concerned about a snake slithering up to you to take a seat on your lap.

...

...

You weren't going to see a snake.

...

You were fine.

Why was Taehyung taking so long?

Why was it so quiet?

You halt your movements, listening carefully to what was around you. You didn't move, trying to hear if there was a rumble of a truck or something. DId that fucker dip and leave you? What a bastar—

"Boo!" Taehyung yelled, plowing right into your form.

You shrieked, not registering who or what had just jumped out at you. It was only until after his arms latched around you, that you realized it was just the douchebag.

"Aww, was kitty scared?" he giggles childishly, obviously quite proud that he successfully frightened you. You let the comment slide, more focused on how fast your heart is racing. Thankfully, the warm scent that fills the air around you is calming, and you lean into his embrace. Which is odd, considering you've known him for maybe 20 minutes.

You close your eyes, trying to calm down your racing heart. He buries his nose into the side of your neck, nudging you. "Sorry, I had to do it. You made it too easy for me. I wasn't expecting you to come so far into the field, by the way. I had to try and track down your scent to find you."

You frown, "Yeah, you're a dick for that... But really? How far exactly did I come in?"

He adjusts you in his grasp so that you're sitting perfectly between his legs, and leaning with your back against his chest. His hands inch down your body, exploring you gradually. He hums, thinking carefully. "I don't have a good guess for the distance, but it seemed as if I was searching for more than ten minutes."

Nonchalantly, he presses his lips against your neck, and you drop the topic. This son of a bitch was acting so... Unbothered. He doesn't miss a beat in his actions, it seemed so easy to him. As if he did this on the regular... Well, with that face, he probably got it all the time.

Your lips part slightly as you feel his lips graze and his teeth gently nip at your skin.

"D-Did the people stop?" you rasp, feigning curiosity. To be frank, you didn't care about the people. There was an ache in your lower region, and you were dying for him to do something about that. You were torn, though. You didn't want to show him just how desperate you were for his touch.

"Yeah," he said, lifting his head momentarily. He continued on, in the most casual way possible. "It was an older guy, he asked if I needed help, and I told him I could take care of it. He almost insisted to stay, but he said he better get home before 'the wife' calls him asking where he is."

"Wait, what? Did you pop the hood and pretend you were working on my car?"

"Honestly? That's exactly what I did. I know nothing about cars," he chuckles. His hand found the hem of your shirt and he started to pull the material upwards, stripping you of your shirt.

"Yeah, figured that," you mutter, helping him free the fabric from your form. You can sense the slight shift in his attitude. You peek back to see his head is tilted in confusion. Just to spite him, you finish the thought. "You look more like the janitor type of guy. Not a mechanic," you smile innocently.

He rolled his eyes and reached to unhook your bra. You could tell he wanted to press the topic more but was too distracted to do so. Another time it would be, then. After a few moments, he unsnapped it successfully. He slid the straps off your shoulders and threw it beside you.

For a second, he froze, thinking carefully.

"Uh. So. Not to kill the romantic, dreamy bedroom setting, but do you mind sitting up so I can get these pants off?" he asks, words dripping with sarcasm.  

The sarcasm trickles back to him just as smoothly as he initially delivered it.

"Oh, I don't mind. Let me get off this lavish bedding we have so you can strip."

You sit up on your knees, cringing a bit at the feeling of the rough ground on your knees. By the time you've shimmied out of your skirt and your panties, Tae is also completely stripped down. He also has his jacket, pants, and shirt laying on the ground as a barrier. Your face flushes uncontrollably, you were standing bare naked, directly in front of a stranger. Outside of all places. What the fuck?

"Come here, gorgeous," he motioned you over. You kneel down in front of him, trembling due to the adrenaline rushing through you. He takes notice, and you can see the soft shift in his dark eyes. "Look at you, kitten. Such a pretty little slut, with nice perky tits and soft skin."

He trails a hand over your breast, cupping it softly. "Tell me, kitten? Are you willing to use that smart mouth for something other than being snarky?"

You found yourself smirking, this man really had no idea what was coming to him. You let your eyes explore his figure carefully, taking note of every single detail of his skin. He was absolute perfection. You move your way over to him, and you grip his chin upwards so you can plant a kiss straight on his lips. Your hand sneaks its way down and wraps around his cock. Preferably, you'd be on your knees and he'd be standing, but you could definitely manage with this.

You break the kiss, winking before lowering yourself downwards. You could feel his gaze on you, analyzing every movement. There wasn't a moment of hesitation in your actions. You gave a gentle, teasing kitten lick to the head, before sinking your mouth down onto his cock.

He let out a low hiss as you sunk down lower and lower. You were always so, so eager to please your partners. When the head of his cock hit the back of your throat, you reflexively clench up. You shut your eyes and try to focus on your breathing.

As you hold still, you feel him start to roll his hips upward into your mouth. Gradually, Taehyung's pace grew faster and faster. Every time you got the opportunity to breathe, you took it.

"Pretty little bitch, you're good at this. How many times has the little whore done this? Hm?" he taunts.

The words thrill you, rather than upset you. There's always that little moment where you recoil, but for the most part, the words melted your insides. He gave a particular hard snap of his hips, pleasure very obviously boggling his mind.

"You're going to be my slut after this though. Just wait and you'll see," he growls.

You're not sure how true his words are, but the thought that there actually could be something after this makes your insides tingle. It was probably just him being desperate for his release though. You could sense the need in his tone, he was getting close and needy.  

At some point, his hand had found the back of your head. He guided you up and down his shaft smoothly and rapidly. "Holy shit," he gasps.

He was unable to quell his moans any longer. Grunts and obscenities flew from his lips. Your hands gripped his toned thighs roughly, finding yourself almost slipping from the rough pace Taehyung was setting.

"Such a good, precious little thing you are. Where were you all of my life?" he knew you couldn't respond but still popped off with whatever came to his mind. The praise urged you to work harder. Except, it only took a few more rotations of his hips before he was hauling you up and off of him.

Before you can even take a breath, he frantically dives forward so your lips meet his in a kiss. It's more of a peck than a kiss, thankfully, because you're still pretty breathless. You take a moment to regain your composure.

You couldn't see yourself, but you were sure you looked completely wrecked.

You felt completely wrecked.

You leaned back on your knees, gazing at Taehyung curiously. He looked just as ruined as you were.

"Want to ride you, Taehyung," you whisper, swallowing thickly.

He sucks in a breath through clenched teeth and shakes his head. "That sounds like a wonderful idea, but I need to work you open first."

You bite your lip, tempted to tell him not to even bother, but you would need it. "I could do it," you respond, gazing up to gauge Taehyung's reaction.

Taehyung seemed experimental, but yet you still worried that he was going to recoil in disgust. The last thing you wanted was him to not be into whatever you suggested. Especially not when the two of you were this far in.

When his expression begins to darken, you don't bother waiting for his words. You're already positioned directly in front of him when he sputters out a 'Sure.'

You felt confident, but your burning cheeks said you felt otherwise. You dipped two of your fingers between your swollen lips, wetting them. You were already rather drenched, but you could never be too careful. Taehyung's eyes were boring intensely into your figure, watching as you grazed your fingers down to your core. You didn't think you have ever been this turned on in your entire life.

You brushed your fingertips over your clit, gasping at the electricity that shot up your spine. You stroked over it again and then added more pressure. You zoned out and focused on pleasuring yourself, quickly forgetting about your surroundings.

Your pace grew quicker and quicker, but before you could add a finger into your entrance, Taehyung came into your view. You wanted to clench your legs together with him this close. He kept his distance for a few moments, but it didn't take long before he was gathering up some of the slick and pressing a finger into you.

"It was a stunning show, but I couldn't just let you perform alone," he rasps, glancing up at you with a wink. Your hips jerk upwards as he sinks another finger into you. You retain your pace, not missing a beat as you snap your fingers over your swollen bud. He curls his fingers upwards, and you cry out.

You were hurling towards your orgasm at an alarming speed.

You can't control the clench of your walls, so you halt the movements of your wrist. You didn't want to come yet, not until Taehyung was inside of you. Before you can pull your arm away, Taehyung snatches it.

"Don't you dare," he scolds. "Keep going."

You whine and shake your head, you were too close. Any more of that and you would b—

He dipped his head between your thighs without warning. If you weren't going to do it, then he would do it. He gave a powerful, broad lick right along your folds. An abrupt moan wiggled its way out of you. He gave a hum of approval and directed some of his attention to your clit.

He hadn't forgotten about the two fingers pumping in and out of you, apparently, because he drove in a third finger.

He bent his fingers upwards, searching rigorously for your sweet spot. You, on the other hand, were more focused on the pleasure being caused by his mouth. Each swipe of his tongue against you had you mewling aloud. It was as if he was trying to gather every drop of slick that had escaped you. Your entire body was thrumming, sparks igniting on every inch of your form.

He rolled his tongue over the nub in circles, and your body arched. "F-fuck!" you wailed, chest heaving up and down.

You were right on the edge, your hands flailed from the ground to Taehyung's hair. Your fingers curled into his locks, holding him to you. He could escape if he really wanted to, but you needed to latch onto something. You find out that he indeed can break away. He withdraws from your soaked center.

With a  sonorous tone, he drawls, "Who is it? Tell me what mutt is making you feel this way and I'll let you come."

You whimper out your response at first, distracted by the vibrating pleasure coursing through your body. It's almost inaudible, but his ears twitch and you know he still has managed to catch it.

"What was that? Say it louder, say my name," he demands, pleased with himself and by how you were responding to him.

"Taehyung! Taehyung! You!" you shout, grinding your hips to meet with the fingers that are prodding at your insides.

He smirks, bringing his lips back down onto your clit. He rolls the bud in his mouth again, sucking and rapidly working it with his tongue. His fingers finally find what they were after, and he jabs right into your sweet spot. You're thrown off the edge, and the tears prickling your eyes finally emerge. You clamp your eyes shut and cry out his name. You lock onto every inch of Taehyung you could grasp.  

It took a good minute or so before you came down. At some point, you released Taehyung and he made his way up to capture you in his arms. He pressed soft kisses into your neck and rubbed his hand gently over your arm. He brought it up to your cheek, wiping away the tears that had rolled down.

"You okay?" Taehyung's asks, voice gentle and reassuring.

You inhale deeply through your nose and exhale through your mouth.

"Honestly? I've never felt better," you giggle, slightly delirious. You heave yourself upwards and Taehyung lets his arms slip from around you. You glance around you, this didn't seem real in the slightest. This was the most realistic (and strangest) dream you'd ever had.

With you no longer in his grasp, he adjusted himself so Taehyung was sitting on his jacket, legs straight out in front of him. He was leaned back casually, using his elbows as support. You raised an eyebrow and without thinking too much about it, you scoot over to him. His calm expression turns into one of confusion, when you throw your leg over both of his, straddling him.

You still feel a tiny bit out of it, but you were ready to take the steering wheel. Taehyung got the drift and aligned himself with your entrance.

The slide in was like melted butter. One slow, solid sink down of your hips and he was filling you to the brim. You swallow him up excellently, and he spreads your slit so perfectly. You couldn't bite back the moan that eluded you, the feeling of being so full was almost too much for you.

Your fingers dig into his chest, but he doesn't seem to mind. His hands meet your hips and though you're in control of the pace, he lets his hands guide you. Speaking of the speed, you were going tortuously slow.

Not only because you were still coming down from your orgasm. Really, you needed to drag this feeling out forever. He groans as you lift yourself up, and bring yourself back down on him. You rotate your hips, grinding down on him. It doesn't take much more teasing for him to snap. You go to drive your hips down even once more, but he's flipping you onto your back before you can.

He grabs each of your legs and pushes them up near your abdomen. The calm Taehyung is gone, and he is now consumed by lust. He began a steady pace, dragging himself almost entirely out of you, then driving in all the way. Your head was beginning to swim, and there was no halting the faint moans tumbling from your lips.

"I'd bet my next paycheck that you've never felt better than you do now," he hisses.

You don't respond, unable to find the right words. If you weren't so fucking concentrated on his thrusts, maybe you would be able to answer. Well, even if you could think properly, you still were too prideful to tell him he was correct. The rhythm is rough and quick, and the lack of response only provoked him further.

"Oh, and don't worry. I didn't forget the whole 'mutt' thing," he snickers.

You want to argue with him, the mutt thing was only because he started it first. He initiated it by calling you a stupid cat, which was the reason you even fired back. What comes out of your mouth instead of a rebuttal, though, is his name followed by a train of curse words.

"Well? Tell me, kitten? Have you had better?" he gives a particularly deep thrust that produces a yelp from you.

"Fuck you!" you squeak, wrapping your arms over his broad shoulders and hooking your hands together behind his neck.

"Aren't I already doing that?" he taunts. "The big bad hound breeding the kitten, what a turn of events."

You gasp, something primal deep inside of you being triggered. You uncontrollably clench around him, the words exciting you. You see his expression turn into one of astonishment. "Oh, you like that? Huh? So you're into being bred? I thought that was just a mutt thing. Yet, I can see it in your expression, you want me to pump you full of my cum. Don't you?"

"Yes! I want it, please," you sob. It felt so... right being underneath him. His weight pinning you down, his arms caging you, and his hips pounding you into the ground.

You were growing closer with every sharp plunge he gave you.  

He leans over to your ear and whispers, "Meow for me, kitty. Tell me how you feel about us mutts now, hmm? You want to be a good girl for me, right?"

"I'm a good kitty! I feel s-so good," you whine. It doesn't stop there though, you hurl into another thought train. "This is all for you, everything- All of me, all for you..."

"See? That's right, you belong right here. Mine, my little slut," he growls, shoving his face into the side of your neck. One of his hands moved from the side of your head and downwards. It wasn't long until you found out where his hand had gone. His fingertips met your tender clit, and you couldn't stop the quiver of your hips. You tried to sway from the sensation, but Taehyung didn't let you.

He departed from your neck and changed to hover his lips directly above your mouth. His eyes met yours, and you knew it was over for you. His lips curled upwards in a sinister grin, "Come for me, kitten."

Taehyung's thrusts turned erratic and he began to tremble. He hammered right into your g-spot, and it was enough to send you hurtling towards your orgasm. The heat traveled, from the tips of your toes to the top of your head. The coil snapped for a second time that night, and you sang out his name as you came.

A howl of pleasure tore from his lips as he followed.

He wrapped his arms around your thighs and yanked you to him. It was apparent that he wanted to be buried to the hilt inside of you. His cum flooded you, splashing out around his length. Your mind blanks out, and you don't know how much time passes before he moves.

There's a vulgar, wet squelch that comes from your core when he pulls out.

"Fuck," you hear Taehyung curse as he plops down beside you. Taehyung's eyes are warm when they meet yours.  All the irritation from earlier is gone, and his features have softened.

You glance away, staring at the starry sky. You were at a loss for words. Taehyung raises up on his elbow and catches your attention. You can tell that he seems as uneasy as you are. "Was that... okay?" he asks, delicately.

You raise your eyebrows, "Holy shit, of course. Literally, mind-blowing. In fact, I think I'm forever broken because no average person will ever live up to that."

He laughs, "Well, I'm glad you enjoyed that. There's one problem though."

You frown and tilt your head to the side. Taehyung points to the ground, and you notice your clothes scattered about. The both of you had used them as a protective layer over the ground, and now they were probably forever stained by the grass and dirt.

Then it hits you, there was also another problem.

"Oh, shit. We can't just drive home naked... We're going to have to put o-"

You groan loudly, shoving your head into your hands. Who knows how many pieces of grass were you going to find in your clothes on the way home.

[kenneth-omega]

Could you do 1 and 5 with Gwilym? Like some love/hate relationship? If you can't it's totally fine thank you anyway ❤

Damned If I Do **Gwilym Lee**

A/N: Thank you anon!! I went super overboard on this and wrote nearly 5k words for it, but it’s some good-ass Gwil smut. I tried to turn it into a love-to-hate-each-other relationship, with very BDE from Gwil and major Dom! vibes. So I hope you like it!

Warnings: SMUT, swearing, fingering, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex, Dom!Gwil x reader

Word count: 4.9k

PROMPTS:

1: “we’re in public, you know”

5: “mine” “say it again”

prompts came from this smutty prompt list

□■□■□■□■□

In your head you knew it was wrong of you to piss off Gwilym, but that man hadn’t half gotten on your nerves earlier today. As you sat at the all-inclusive bar next to Ben, sipping your Aperol Spritz, you cast your mind back to the events of the late afternoon.

“All I’m saying is that if you hadn’t insisted on having your hair appointment today, we wouldn’t be running late.” Gwil sighed, stood in front of the floor-length mirror, trying to fasten his bowtie. You were sat at the vanity, where you had been fixing up your makeup.

Slamming the lipstick down on the wooden surface, you turned to look over at him, eyes glaring into the back of his head.

“Are you freaking kidding me, Gwil? You’re saying this is my fault?” You snapped, watching as he started trying to tie his bowtie once more, having mucked it up for the tenth time. You could tell he wasn’t focusing properly, and that the added frustration was making his temper fray. But frankly, you couldn’t give two shits, as your own fuse was close to being blown.

“That’s not what I said–” He began, but you cut him off, getting to your feet and putting a hand up in a gesture for him to shut up.

“No, but it’s what you’re heavily implying.” You responded, stalking across the bedroom to grab your purse off the dresser top. Gwilym gave a short grunt of frustration as he almost messed up his neat bow, although you had a feeling it was also in response to your statement.

“Well, I’m ready.” You huffed, folding your arms as you stood by your hotel room door, waiting impatiently and tapping your velvet-clad, stiletto-heeled foot, as you watched his reflection in the mirror. Gwil’s eyes flickered up from his bow to look at you, before returning to watching his hands.

“Makes a change for once.” He mumbled, finally managing to get his bow fastened around his neck, pulling the black collar of his shirt down over it. You huffed through your nostrils angrily, probably looking like some enraged bull as you stood silently, shooting daggers with your eyes. You tapped your index finger against your bicep as he grabbed his wallet and began fastening a watch around his wrist.

Finally, he was ready too and stood in the middle of the room, arms extended out at his sides as he presented himself in front of you.

“Handsome as ever.” You bit out, before turning on your heels and opening the bedroom door, stalking out and down the hallway. You weren’t meaning to sound so horrible, but his last comment had driven you up the wall, and the intrusive thoughts in your mind were making you feel rather shitty.

Did you really spend too long on yourself?

You were shaken out of your little daydream by a soft hand brushing your elbow. Turning to your left you were met with Ben’s soft smile.

“You okay? You look a little lost.” He asks, picking up his bottle of beer from the bar top. You smile at his obvious concern for his friend’s girlfriend, and you know it won’t have gone unnoticed by him that you two hadn’t been speaking all night.

“I’m fine, Ben, thanks for asking.” You assure him, finishing the rest of your drink, regretting it as the bubbles tickle your nose and made your eyes water a little. Now it looked like you were getting emotional.

“You need me to get Gwil?” He asks you, starting to get off his barstool to go find your boyfriend. You grab onto his bicep, the steady muscle underneath the soft fabric of his blazer tensing up under your touch.

“No!” You exclaim. Ben shot you a suspicious look. “I’d rather not hang around him right now.” You admit, eyes downcast as you knew Ben would no doubt be looking at you with pity.

“Y/N, did you guys have a fight?” Ben asks you, backtracking and returning to his seat, but leaning in a little closer so as not to be overheard by anyone. You really did appreciate his concern for you both.

Shaking your head, you ask for another drink, simply requesting the same, before turning in your seat to face Ben who is waiting patiently for you to speak.

“Just an argument, really. But I’m just so furious with him.” You growl, tapping your nails on the bar as you try to keep your temper in check. Yours and Gwilym’s relationship had always been a little volatile, but in the good way. Your friendship had been the same, both of you falling out over stupid things and not speaking for a day, until one of you would cave and text the other, and you’d go grab drink as if nothing ever happened.

“Okay…” Ben began, eyebrows furrowing together. “About what?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, knowing how stupid it must sound. “Over which one of us made us late for tonight.” You look over your shoulder at the scene before you. It was the afterparty for the Oscar’s, Bohemian Rhapsody having won four different awards at the ceremony, so celebrations were in full swing.

You’d been late to arrive at the carpet, and after the ceremony was over you’d all returned to the hotel that you were staying in, having rented out the bar downstairs for the party.

Ben laughed next to you, but you didn’t register it at first, as your eyes met Gwil’s from across the room. You hadn’t spoken since the ceremony, where you had said congratulations to him and the others. After that, you’d remained distant and sullen.

Now he was leant up against a wall, drink in hand as he stood in conversation with Joe and a woman you didn’t recognise. Joe seemed to be trying to hit it off with her, however she seemed an awful lot more interested in Gwilym and what he had to say. Your eyes remained locked with his, until he was asked a question by the woman and Joe nudged his arm. Although he looked away to speak to the girl, giving her his trademark charming smile that he always reserved for you, his eyes kept flicking up past her head to look at you.

Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of him knowing you were staring, you turned back to look at Ben. Although innocent enough, that girl had rubbed you the wrong way and you didn’t like him smiling at her. As idiotic as it sounded.

“Hey Ben?” You ask the blond, your eyes narrowing slightly as you try not to get too het up about what was going on across the room from you.

Ben, mid-drink, looks at you out of the corner of his eyes, raising his eyebrows in question. You place your hand on his leg, just a couple of inches higher than his knee, but it was enough to make him choke a little on his drink.

“Thanks for being a good friend.” You told him sweetly, giving him sincere smile. Ben put his bottle down and put a hand on your shoulder, giving you a wink, something he was renowned for doing. It wasn’t a flirtatious gesture from him, more of his way of telling you that it wasn’t an issue, and that he was always going to be there for you.

“Not a problem Y/N.” He assures you, squeezing your shoulder.

Although the whole exchange was innocent enough if someone were to hear you two talking, but you knew that from across the room it wouldn’t look quite the same. That’s what you were hoping for.

Looking out the corner of your eye, you could see a tall, dark form shifting through the throng of people, and before they even got to you, you knew it was Gwilym.

In less than a few seconds, he was by your side, pushing himself a little bit in between you and Ben, cutting off your view from him. You look up at him through your eyelashes, giving him a little smirk as he glares down at you, his face like thunder.

“Hello Gwil.” You greet him politely, your tone sweet yet sharp, as you pick up your new, full glass of Aperol Spritz, taking a sip from it and running the tip of your tongue across your top lip as you wait for him to respond.

“Are you finished?” Gwil asks you, his voice dangerously low as he towers over you. His deep, cobalt-blue eyes were practically burning a hole into your mind, a flash of jealousy illuminating them. You hum, looking at your nearly-full glass as if it were a tough question, pondering over your answer.

“Not quite.” You tease, flashing him a smile that was all teeth and no humour.

“That’s not what I meant.” He hisses, eyes shifting to the left, aware of Ben sat behind him, looking a little confused and forlorn.

So he had seen you.

“I wasn’t doing anything.” You tell him, the tone in your voice growing sharper by the second. You could feel another row coming on.

Gwil scoffs, his eyes rolling as he raises a singular eyebrow at you, as if to say “really?”. You got off your stool, the legs scraping on the floor as it pushes away from you, and stood in front of him, brazenly looking him in the eye.

“Don’t take that attitude with me.” You snap, one hand balling into a fist as the other grips the bar top. You’re almost shaking with fury as Gwil glares down at you, not even flinching at your sudden act of defiance.

Leaning in, his face draws ever closer to yours, and were it not for both of your vicious scowls, people might mistake you both for getting close and cuddly. Just inches from your face, Gwil’s arm slips past you and you get ready to push him away if he tries to grab your hand or pull you into him.

Instead, you hear the scrape of the barstool behind you and feel a soft bump as it hits the back of your legs, making you startle slightly. Gwil doesn’t break eye contact for a single second as he pulls the stool up.

“Sit.” He commands you, his voice a husky growl that sends a delicious chill down your spine. You do so immediately, scooting your bum onto the seat and waiting to see what he’ll do next. It’s a little unexpected, and not what you had thought might happen.

Gwil straightens up and turns around to his friend. Ben, who had been sat with his drink, was minding his own business and scrolling through his Instagram as the whole fiasco went on beside him. But when Gwil turned around he couldn’t help but notice the obvious waves of rage rolling off of his friend.

“Ben, can you give us a moment? Alone?” Gwil asks his friend calmly, the intimidating glare dissipating instantly as he addresses him. Ben shrugs, thinking none the wiser of it, and gets up from his seat, walking off to go find Joe and Rami.

You swear under your breath, realising that Ben had now sent you to your doom, as Gwil spun back to face you. His expression held no malice or anger, just frustration. You didn’t know whether it was the good or bad kind, however.

Stepping closer to you, Gwil slips his leg between yours as he closes the gap between the two of you. His body shields you from the eyes of the rest of the room, with the cool metal of the bar keeping you pinned against him.

“What the hell are you doing?” Gwilym hisses at you, all the while looking around the room, instead of at you. To anyone else, it might look like you two were having a meaningless conversation as Gwilym simply seemed to be observing the party. Nothing overly suspicious.

“I told you before, I wasn’t doing anything!” You snarl, picking up your glass and taking a big gulp of your drink, before slamming it back down on the surface, much like you had done with the lipstick earlier that day.

Gwilym’s hand suddenly grazes your knee, the pads of his fingers brushing the inside of your leg.

“Liar.” He responds, still refusing to look at you. You froze on the spot, unable to move as his hand rest firmly on your leg, his thumb digging into the soft flesh whilst his fingers lightly stroked across the soft skin. It sent tingles up your leg, straight to your core, and you tried not to let it bother you.

Besides, you were a little occupied by the fact that Gwilym had just called you a liar.

“What did you just call me?!” You demand, the volume and shrillness of your voice getting a little higher. Gwil’s hands slip up your leg, underneath the skirt of your dress, in a flash, gripping the flesh of your upper thigh tight, no doubt leaving marks. But it causes you to clamp your mouth shut as his fingers lay mere centimetres from your panties.

Bastard.

“Hush now.” Gwil murmurs, eyes twinkling as he tries to keep his face impassive, knowing full well what effect this was having on you.

“Fuck off.” You hiss under your breath, but it soon turns into a whimper as his index and middle finger slip further up and press harshly against your clothed clit. You have to resist the initial urge to move your hips and grant yourself some friction against his fingers.

Gwil leans down, so that his mouth is brushing against your ear, his beard scratching your cheek. His hot breath feels so good on your neck, and you can’t help the fact that you’re starting to get rather wet for him.

“Play nice, princess.” He hums, rubbing his fingers in a singular circle against your clit, feeling your body jerk against him in response. You clamp down on your bottom lip hard, another small whimper coming from your mouth.

“We’re in public, you know.” You mumble a weak excuse, when you finally manage to recover from the sudden stimulation. You were so furious at him for everything that had happened today, and yet it only seemed to make his touch, his fingers, and his presence more magnetising.

“I know. The perfect punishment for being such a naughty girl tonight.” Gwil chuckles, the low hum of his voice making your clit throb against the pressure of his fingertips. You couldn’t help but spread your legs a little wider for him. A silent plea for him to touch you more.

“Don’t know what you mean…” You moan gently, his fingers starting to rub slow circles through your panties onto your clit. Your hips begin to twitch involuntarily, succumbing to the magic of his fingers.

“Behave, or else I’ll stop.” He growls, removing his fingers from your clit, the loss of his touch leaving you feeling high and dry. That is, until his hand moves your panties to the side and his fingers begin to slide through your folds, spreading the wetness that has begun to pool in your underwear.

You gasp in delight and horror as you realise that there are people all around you both.

“Gwilym–”

“No.” He snaps, cutting you off.

You moan softly, knowing he won’t listen to you, not when he has you like putty in his fingers.

“Please, baby–” You whine, inching forward in your seat, hoping for him to get the hint. Gwilym sighs happily at his nickname, it offering some form of comfort to try balm over his jealousy. A name he knows only he can get you to say, and only say when you’re desperate for him.

“Much better.” He praises, fingers dipping closer to your entrance, but not quite enough. You roll your hips forward, your leg which is stuck between his brushing against his crotch, his hard on rubbing against your thigh. He’s just as turned on as you are.

This snaps you out of your mewling, submissive state, your half-closed eyes flicking up to look at his face that remains stone cold as he continues to tease your pussy in the middle of the party.

“Baby?” You ask him sweetly, batting your eyelashes at him as he looks down at you, slightly confused as to why you’ve stopped begging and squirming under his touch. You sneakily slip a hand up the inside of his thigh, until you reach his crotch, and rub his hard cock through his trousers.

Gwil almost stumbles at the sudden contact of your hand against his erection, palming him through his tight trousers, and has to bite back a loud moan. You can feel his dick flex and twitch under your palm and you can’t help but smile to yourself.

“You were saying?” You whisper, rubbing your hand along his length, the tips of your fingers pressing down a little to massage his shaft through the material. Gwilym’s fingers sink into your wet entrance without warning and you gasp, your free hand coming up to slap your mouth shut and stifle the moan that was soon to follow after.

His fingers curl inside you as he pumps them slowly, the heel of his palm grinding against your clit.

“Fuck–” You cry, as quietly as possible, through your fingers.

“Don’t you dare tease me without my permission, do you hear me?” Gwil growls, fingers moving slow inside you as he leans in to plant a kiss on your neck, right below your ear. You whine and nod your head in response, unable to open your mouth for fear of a moan coming out.

Gwilym savours the feeling of your walls clenching around his fingers for a little bit longer, before he pulls away, leaving you feeling empty without his long digits inside you, fucking you just right.

He pulls out a tissue and wipes his fingers, internally fighting the urge to lick them clean like he normally would, to be able to enjoy the taste of you. But he knows there’s time yet.

“Get up.” He demands, pulling you to your feet and taking your hand in his. He begins to drag you towards the door that will lead you into the lobby, where the lifts are. You follow after him like a lost sheep, giddy with excitement and arousal. Gwilym stabs the button for the lift, and the two of you wait in silence, the lobby is almost dead, save for you and the receptionist who doesn’t even raise his head at you both.

Gwilym leans down to whisper into your ear. “When you get into that lift, I want you to take your panties off like a good girl.” He informs you, just as the lift dings and the doors open.

It’s pretty late now, so you know that there will be barely anyone else around.

The two of you step into the lift and Gwil pushes the button for your floor, before the doors close softly. He turns to you, leaning his back against the wall of the lift, his arms folded as he waits expectantly, eyes glittering with arousal. For a second you stand there defiantly, until he raises an eyebrow at you, his gaze promising punishment if you don’t comply with his wishes.

You slip your dress skirt up, hooking your thumbs in the waistband of your panties and pulling the down over your ass, letting them drop onto the carpeted floor. Gwil’s eyes remain focused on your face as he extends a hand out, waiting. You pick your panties up off the floor and place them in his outstretched palm, watching as he pockets them without another word.

“Good girl.” He tells you, as the lift dings and the doors slide open to reveal your floor.

The walk to your room is silent, the atmosphere heavy with anticipation and lust. Gwilym unlocks the door to your room, flicking the lights on. Throwing his blazer onto the little armchair, he begins to undo the tie which he had tried so hard to get perfect earlier that evening.

“Get on the bed.” He growls at you, noticing you stood in the middle of the room, watching him begin to undress. “And take everything off.” He adds, eyes flicking down to your dress.

He begins to unbutton his shirt, pulling it out of his trousers from where it had been neatly tucked in, kicking off his shoes in the process. You remain still, watching him slowly remove his clothing, his slightly tanned skin rippling as his muscles flex with every movement, in the soft glow of the lamps. Just as he starts to undo his belt, he looks over at you and realises you’re still not doing as he asked.

With a sigh, he stalks over to you and slips behind you. His fingers brush the nape of your neck as he shifts your hair aside, scooping it over one shoulder, so that he can get to the zip of your dress. You can hear the little whirr as he pulls the zip down, the material of your dress loosening as he slides it off your shoulders, letting it slip off your body.

You look down and see it pooled around your ankles, leaving you naked in front of him. Gwil sucks in a deep breath as his eyes move over your bare form, unable to contain his obvious admiration.

“Fuck, princess.” He groans, his hands grazing your hips. Gwil leans forward and presses a kiss to your shoulder. “You’re so beautiful.” He murmurs against your hot skin.

You lean back into him, the bare skin of his chest warming against your back, relishing the contact between you both.

“I’m so lucky to call you mine.” He sighs, both his hands slipping up to cup your breasts, kneading them in palms, fingers grazing over your nipples. You instinctively arch your back, your ass pressing against his hard cock, earning a low moan from him.

“I’m all yours.” You assure him, tilting your head back to give him more access to your neck, allowing him to plant open-mouthed kisses against the sensitive skin. He takes one of your nipples between his thumb and index finger, rubbing it gently. Your skin erupts with goose bumps and you groan, his hard cock straining against his trousers.

“Mine.” He growls, before going to your neck and slowly sucking a deep purple bruise into the skin. You reach a hand up to run it through his floppy brown hair, having recently got the back and sides cut short, so it feels soft and fluffy.

“Say it again.” You beg, feeling the familiar rush arousal between your legs, knowing you must be soaking wet right now.

He removes his lips from your neck, spinning you around to face him, cupping your face with his hands.

“Mine.” He whispers, his eyes blown with lust and love for you, lips plump and red from how much he’s bitten them.

“Then fuck me like I’m yours.” You tell him firmly, eyes never breaking contact, as you take one of his hands from your face and gently wrap it around your throat, adding a little bit of pressure.

Gwilym needs no more hints, pushing you onto the bed and climbing on top of you in an instant, sliding his belt off and pulling his trousers down so he can rub a hand against his hard cock through his underwear.

“Legs, princess.” He tells you, opening your legs and slipping them over his shoulders, with you helping him without hesitation. Gwil, his head between your thighs, looks up at you and gives you a warm smile, all the dominating swagger he usually has vanishing for a moment, as he looks at you like he’s the luckiest man in the world.

And then it’s gone, as Gwil dips his tongue between your folds, the tip flicking against your clit. You can feel the bristles of his beard scratching against the inside of your thighs and creating more friction against your pussy.

“Fuck, Gwil.” You cry, your back arcing as you slip your hands down to run them through the long strands of hair on the top of his head, tugging them a little. His instinct is to moan as you pull on his hair, and the vibrations against your clit make you buck your hips, grinding your pussy against his tongue.

“So wet, baby girl.” Gwil teases, removing his mouth and using a finger to rub slow circles on your clit, watching you squirm under him. He can feel his cock leaking pre-cum in his boxers, and he so desperately wants to be buried in your soaked pussy.

You seem to want the same thing as you beg for him to fuck you, your legs trembling as he switches from using his finger on your clit to using his thumb, allowing him to tease your entrance.

“Want my fingers in your pretty pussy?” He asks you, dipping them in slightly, but not fully, liking to watch as you gasp at every movement. You nod in response, your soft moans giving him all the encouragement he needs.

He buries two fingers into you with ease, curling them inside you to rub against your walls, before he starts to pump them. The sight of your legs opening more for him, taking his fingers so well, makes Gwilym rock hard. He pushes down his boxers, finally relieving his erection from its confines. It springs out, the pre-cum dripping off the tip as he wraps his spare hand around the shaft, and slowly begins stroking himself to the sight before him.

You open your eyes, wanting to see Gwilym’s face as he fucks you with his fingers, and you almost cum when you see him jerking off over you.

“Such a good girl.” He moans, mouth falling open slightly as his fist pumps his cock quickly, still praising you as he gets you both off.

“Gwil, fuck me.” You beg, knowing that you can’t hold off your orgasm much longer, and wanting to feel him deep inside you. He slows down his rhythm, teasing himself as he strokes just the head of his cock, removing his fingers from your pussy and greedily licking all your juices off them.

He shuffles himself so that his cock is lined up with your entrance, moving his hand from his member to the base of his shaft.

Gwil slowly pushes the tip inside you, pausing as you moan at the teasing sensation, before slowly pushing deeper and deeper inside you, until his cock fills you up entirely. He can’t contain the hungry growl in his throat, as his desires are slowly fulfilled.

“Fuck, that’s good.” He moans, relishing the way your walls clench around him, before he begins to pull back out, and then in once more, building up a pace. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist as he thrusts into you quickly, his arms pinned at either side of your head as he leans over you, the new angle allowing him to fuck you better.

“Baby–” You cry out, one hand gripping the sheets whilst the other holds onto one of Gwil’s wrists. Noticing the way you grip onto his arm, he leans down, using his left forearm to prop himself up, whilst he slips his right hand around your throat, holding you in place. Your hand reaches up to rest over his, not adding any pressure, but just wanting to feel the sensation of his hand around your neck.

“God you’re so fucking hot, and you were so naughty tonight.” He growls next to your ear, panting as he fucks you harder, your skin slapping against each other as he drives his cock into you.

“…Wanted your attention.” You whimper, turning your head towards his, leaning in for a heated kiss. Gwilym runs his tongue along your lips before sticking it down your throat, your lips coming together in a wet kiss.

“Because only I can make you feel this good.” He gasps when you pull apart, looking at you through his long eyelashes, a little bit of spit coating his bottom lip. You gently suck his bottom lip, pulling a breathy moan from him.

“Of course baby.” You assure him, a hand slipping down to your clit to begin rubbing it at a fast pace, matching every one of Gwilym’s thrusts. “Now let me show you how you make me feel.” You tell him.

Gwilym brings himself up onto his haunches, his hands falling down to hold your hips, allowing him to control your movements and watch you play with yourself on his cock. With every clench of your walls around his cock, his thrusts grow a little more desperate, and he prays you’ll cum soon so that he can join you.

Your mouth falls open as the beginning of your orgasm starts to creep up in your stomach, and Gwilym has to bite his lip as he watches you get closer and closer.

“Say my name.” He begs you. “Say my name when you cum, princess.”

You nod at him, knowing he won’t have to wait much longer, as you reach the edge of your climax, going over the edge and falling into bliss.

“I’m–Fuck, Gwil! Oh, fuck baby…” You moan, the waves of euphoria washing over your body with every thrust of Gwil’s cock inside you.

Gwil, knowing you’ve reached your high, doesn’t try to hold off his own orgasm any longer, his thrusts getting sloppier, until he’s finally cumming too, his hot load spurting inside you.

“Jesus! Holy fuck–” He exclaims, hips still rolling against yours as he rides it out, wanting the pleasure to last as long as possible. After a few more shaky thrusts, he carefully pulls out, before bending down and pressing soft kisses up your stomach, past the valley of your breasts, until he’s kissing your chin all the way up to your lips, where he plants quick, hot kisses.

His hair is hanging down over his face, getting in his eyes and tickling his nose, but he doesn’t care, because you’re there in front of him, looking up at him with an incomparable amount of love in your heart, your eyes slightly glazed from exhaustion, as you reach up to stroke his beard.

No matter how mad he may get at you, he knows nothing can ever beat this feeling.

[imnotinclinedtomaturity]

Love Yourself (Chapter 29)

title: Love Yourself summary: A lot of things about Dan’s life are pretty great. He gets to make the music he wants, he’s got a great fanbase, and his manager is his best friend. A few things about his life suck a bit more. He’s currently lacking inspiration, he’s rather lonely, and he’s stuck in a rut. Dan’s been going to the same coffee shop for years. It’s quiet, it’s quaint, it’s near his home. Most importantly: none of the employees give a shit that’s he a world-famous singer. Things change when he meets the new barista. chapter words: 5k story words: 233k (so far) chapter: 29/? rating: m warnings: language, alcohol, sex mentions, some bi/homophobia, eventual explicit smut, some depression genre: singer!dan, coffee shop au, barista!phil, slow burn [[ao3]] [[first chapter]] [[previous chapter]]

a/n: it’s holiday break, so i guess i’m back to my 2am posting schedule whoops lol. as always, much love to @auroraphilealis for all her help. earlier today, i asked her to edit before i wrote more of this chapter because i wasn't sure how much more to include without making things seem rushed and she was like "actually, i think you should end it here" so yeah, it's a bit short, but i was secretly thinking it before she said it, too, so it must be right lol. i'm v v v pumped for the next few chapters though omg do we have things in store.

Dan hurried out of his bedroom, pulling his potato sack of a sweater over his head as he left. The two minutes since the lift had dinged with Louise’s arrival already felt like too long, and at this point, he knew any further delay was risky.

He hadn’t bothered to find trousers — the only ones he’d seen on the floor were his tight as fuck jeans from last night, and he certainly wasn’t going to try to pull those back on. And lord knew he wasn’t going to take the time to dig around for something more comfortable. He’d known Louise for far too long to trust that she wouldn’t bang on his bedroom door if he didn’t make an appearance quickly. And if he didn’t answer the bedroom door fast enough… well, it was probably safe to assume that her and Phil would suddenly be much better acquainted.

Socks, pants, and a massive sweater would have to do.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” Dan hollered as he rushed down the hallway, just in case she hadn’t heard him slam the bedroom door behind him as he made his hasty exit. Adrenaline was still pumping through him, not allowing him to lose sight of the whirlwind of the last twenty-four hours. Both the sex and the productive, healthy talking had left Dan in an excellent mood, and he felt like the happy energy was bubbling out of him.

“In the lounge!” Louise called back. “Bring your computer charger, I forgot mine!” she tacked on.

“Fine, you needy goose!” Dan shouted, not sounding nearly as aggravated as he’d intended; he didn’t have it in him to actually be annoyed with Louise demanding things right now. He diverted into his music room, and quickly grabbed his charger from where it was still plugged into his laptop next to his guitar.

Dan shuffled down the hallway quickly, unable to make himself slow down and walk at a proper pace. He was still going slightly too fast when he turned into the lounge, causing him to accidentally slide around the corner and crash into Louise, who was pouring herself a glass of water at the bar cart.

“Hello there, bear,” Louise greeted with a smile, her arms automatically wrapping around him for a quick hug.

Dipping his head down, Dan pressed a chaste peck to her cheek. “Hi, Lou,” he said cheerfully with a wide, beaming smile that did nothing to tone down how good he was currently feeling.

Louise’s eyes darted behind Dan, peeking through the door over his shoulder. “I assumed Phil was still here…” she trailed off, her words not quite coming out as a question.

“Oh, he is,” Dan confirmed slyly, flashing Louise an impish grin. “He had a small problem that he needed to calm down from before he could be social, though.” Dan winked, sounding extra cheeky, even though Louise had definitely known Dan long enough that his words needed no further explanation.

“Daniel James Howell!” Louise gasped dramatically, a look of mock-outrage on her face. “Were you actually in the middle of sex when I showed up?” Her eyes scanned down Dan, properly taking in his outfit — or lack thereof — for the first time since he’d slid into the room. Her eyes were stern and her hands were on her hips, but Dan could see a smile tugging at her lips.

“No!” Dan defended hastily, although a smile was pulling at his lips as he remembered what him and Phil had gotten up to not too long ago. “We’ve been… done for a while. Not my fault he got all worked up when I checked my phone.”

Louise’s eyebrows quickly knitted together, and her head cocked to the side. “Usually not a sexual thing, Dan…” she noted, a humorous lilt in her voice.

Unable to resist, Dan wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Not unless you’re naked and it looks like you’re riding him…”

“Wait. Have you — did you —” Louise abruptly stopped mid-sentence, eye narrowed and lips tipped up into a hint of a mischievous smile. Dan raised his eyebrows questioningly, and Louise started over, “Did you talk or just mess around today?”

A shy giggle escaped Dan’s mouth, and he shrugged, tipping his head to the side. “Both, actually,” Dan admitted bashfully. “He pushed for us to talk, then we messed around, then we talked again.”

Louise stared at him for a moment, looking contemplative. Finally, she seemed to settle on a response, and a sly smile spread across her face. “Okay, I have to know first. What do you mean by mess around?”

Dan laughed loudly. He’d known the gossip who was determined to know every detail of his love life would have inevitably push for more on that particular detail, but he’d kind of expected the manager in Louise to push for more information on their conversation first.

Given how insane the last twenty-some hours had been though, Dan was glad to discover that best-friend-Louise was here, not just manager-Louise. It felt nice to revel in the newness of his relationship — a relationship that was going shocking well and maturely — instead of the massive fuck-fest that was his overall life right now.

“No sex yet, you nosy snoop,” Dan teased, mouth pulled into a wide and saucy smirk. “I’ll call you as soon as he pulls out if you’re that desperate to know.”

Immediately, Louise crinkled her nose and narrowed her eyes, her expression just barely bordering on horrified. “Not that fast, please,” Louise grimaced, her nose scrunched up in mock-horror. “Wait until it’s… back in your pants, at least.”

“Mmmm,” Dan hummed knowingly as he flashed her another devilish grin. “You’re the one that seems so intent on knowing.”

“Not that fast!” Louise defended with a scoff. Her eyes were wide as saucers, and she was shaking her head adamantly. “You freak,” she added moving to sit on the sofa.

“Fine, fine,” Dan relented, his hands held up in playful surrender. A giggle was threatening to break through his voice, though, ruining his attempts to sound exasperated. “If you really think you can wait, then I guess I’ll just force him to cuddle with me afterwards.”

“I’m sure that will be so hard, given how enamoured he is with you,” Louise replied sarcastically.

“It’s not that dramatic,” Dan whined.

“Yeah, right...” Louise trailed off sarcastically, shaking her head and rolling her eyes at the same time. Dan couldn’t help but feel slightly insulted by how much Louise seemed to think him and Phil were more serious than he was saying. Even if it was true.

Louise’s demeanor shifted, then. Her smile was still soft, and Dan could tell that Concerned Friend Louise was still here, but he could see from the subtle way her shoulders pushed back and her voice lowered that Manager Louise was coming, too. “The talking then, tell me about that if you won’t dish on the sex,” Louise pushed.

Averting his eyes to the bar cart, where the flowers were wilting without a proper vase, and the pile of glass was scooped beneath it, Dan mumbled, “Do I have to?”

“As a friend, I’d let it go,” Louise offered with a sympathetic smile, voice soft and understanding. “But as your manager, I kind of need to know if you came to any decisions about where you want to go from here.”

“Fuck, I know,” Dan whined, reluctantly giving in. Glancing over his shoulder, Dan peeked down the empty hallway and ruffled his hair anxiously. “Phil should be out here in a minute. Then we can all talk together.”

Louise’s eyebrows shot up. “You want him to be here when we talk about your next steps?” she asked, a hint of disbelief lacing her tone.

Dan couldn’t help but chuckle — Louise’s skepticism certainly wasn’t completely unwarranted. He’d never, never, let any of his partners join their business discussions before. But Phil was different. Dan had always known that Phil would be different, and after their talk today, he had some idea of how to actually show Phil that he was different. It was hard, and kind of uncomfortable, but Dan was determined to do this right. “Like I said, we talked. I’m trying something new.”

“Aw,” Louise cooed, her hand reaching out to pinch his cheek. “Is little Daniel —”

“Please don’t make a big deal of this, Louise,” Dan cut her off. With an annoyed huff, Dan smacked her hand away and cocked his head out of her reach.

Louise narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips, still looking like she was on the verge of taunting him. Dan was well aware of how abnormal this was for him, how whipped and adulty he must sound, but he really didn’t want to get into it. Not right now, not when Phil was bound to barge in at any minute. Silently, he pleaded with wide eyes for Louise to drop the subject.

“Fine,” Louise agreed. “For now,” she amended, shooting Dan a sidelong glance. Letting the topic go, Louise snatched the laptop charger from his hands and plugged her computer in by the armchair. Dan followed her the rest of the way into the lounge and collapsed onto the far end of the sofa, leaving room for Phil to sit. Barely looking up from her computer, Louise mumbled, “I need to pull some stuff up anyway, so we’ll wait for Phil.”

With the exception of Louise’s clicking and typing, the room was silent. Dan fiddled with the hem of his jumper, wishing that he’d remembered his phone. The internet was probably a risky place for him to lurk at the moment, but he was itching to be scrolling through something — even if that something was tumblr post after tumblr post speculating about his recent announcement.

He wondered what people were thinking, how many more had realized that Phil was the boy from last night, if Isabella had said anything yet. He wondered if Isabella had figured out a way to spin his coming out so that it somehow about her, or if new outlets were reaching out to hear her version of the story. Scrolling through twitter and tumblr might not answer the questions beating around his head, but fuck, at least it’d give him something else to concentrate on.

The sound of clumsy footsteps jarred Dan out of his thoughts. Dan glanced up in time to see Phil hovering awkwardly in the doorway. A smug smile tugged at Dan’s lips when he noticed that Phil had pulled on a pair of Dan’s loose, thick pyjama pants instead of his own tight joggers — clearly, Phil still had something to hide.

Apparently Dan wasn’t the only one who’d noticed Phil’s wardrobe change; Louise eyed Phil’s pyjamas with a knowing look, quiet laughter bubbling. Dan made the mistake of catching her gaze, and suddenly they were both cackling over the ridiculousness of the situation.

“G-glad you took a moment to c-calm down there, Philly,” Dan choked out through his laughter. His cheeks hurt from smiling too hard, and he knew they were probably flushed as well.

“Yeah,” Louise added, her own giggles making her words hard to understand. “I guess that m-moment was w-well helpf-ful.”

A bright red flush rushed up Phil’s neck, flooding from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. His blatant embarrassment only seemed to fuel Dan and Louise’s amusement, and they both redoubled into another bout of laughter.

Phil groaned, high pitched and whiny, as he buried his face in his hands. He collapsed onto the sofa, his face still hidden, and sagged against Dan.

“Poor Philly,” Dan cooed, laughter still shaking his shoulders as he pulled Phil closer. It was so fucking refreshing to have a partner that he could tease, a partner that wouldn’t stomp their foot and huff and throw a tantrum when Dan and Louise made a joke at their expense.

“None of today is the impression I wanted to make on Louise,” Phil whined through his fingers, sounding positively morose. Both Dan and Louise giggled again, Louise humorously shaking her head.

“I reckon there’ll be other chances,” Dan offered, trying to sound reassuring despite his mirth.

“Ughhh,” Phil mumbled unintelligently.

Dan smiled fondly at Phil, just barely resisting the temptation to pry his hands from his face and kiss his rosy cheeks.

Slowly, their laughter dwindled and Phil’s ears faded to their normal pale color. Louise cleared her throat, drawing Dan’s attention away from Phil. “As much as I have been wanting to get to know Phil,” Louise said with a pointed look, her voice switching into manager mode, “we have a lot to chat about, and some of these decisions need to be made fast.”

Both Dan and Phil straightened up at Louise’s sudden shift, putting a respectable distance between themselves.

“First things first,” Louise said, her gaze shifting back and forth from Dan to Phil. “Isabella responded. Sort of.”

“And?” Dan asked warily. Nervously, his hands tightly latched onto his legs, his fingertips harshly digging into his bare thighs. Dan was too amped up to notice the pain, but Phil must not have been. Gentle fingers wrapped around Dan’s hand, and pulled it down. Pliantly, Dan let Phil guide their hands to his lap, his fingers automatically seeking out the hem of his baggy jumper instead.

“She’s keeping her meeting with Tatler tomorrow,” Louise continued with a frown — a fact that didn’t escape Dan’s notice. With a deep sigh, Dan prepared himself for whatever news Louise had. “Judging by the fan’s tweet that she replied to, she’s going to talk about her version of finding out about your sexuality. So prepare yourself for that.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Dan grumbled.

“Hang on, let me just show you,” Louise mumbled, tapping around on her phone before tossing it to Dan. It was opened to Isabella’s twitter, of course. Tilting the phone so Phil could see too, Dan apprehensively read the tweet.

@prettyfashionista: @IsabellaDeLaRenta Did you know that @danielhowell was bi when you were dating?”

@IsabellaDeLaRenta: @prettyfashionista You’ll have to read my interview with @Tatler tomorrow to hear all about it ;)

It wasn’t surprising that Isabella was determined to say something about Dan’s coming out, but his heart sunk all the same. “Great,” Dan mumbled with an eyeroll, throwing Louise’s phone back. Whatever that story was, it was bound to be a load of bullshit.

Louise caught her phone and continued without acknowledging Dan’s disgruntled comment. “I’ve spoken with Tatler’s legal team though, and they are aware that if they run any version of the stories Isabella described in that contract, then charges will be pressed.”

“Fucking fantastic,” Dan grumbled, still not pleased with the direction of the conversation so far. Pressing charges wouldn’t do any good; if the story got out, then the damage would be done. Besides, even if Tatler refrained from releasing any of the shit in the contract, there was still plenty of crap Isabella could spin to make Dan look like the villain.

“As you can imagine, both the media and your fans have lots of questions.” Louise seemed to click a few times on her screen before fully returning her attention to Dan. “Especially since Isabella is going to talk to Talter, and say god knows what, I think it’s important for you to properly talk about this somewhere.”

“Like an interview,” Dan deadpanned, even though he already knew the answer.

Louise nodded. “I’ve got several options lined up, just waiting to be confirmed. If you’re okay with it, then we can talk about what you’re willing to do and eliminate some of those options.”

Dan sighed and gave a firm nod, steeling himself for what he knew he had to do. Interviews weren’t his favorite part of fame — especially when he didn’t have something concrete to promote as an easy conversation topic to fall back on. As much as Dan knew that an interview — or two or three — was the right thing to do, he also knew that there would be no easy questions or topics. Not even his album, which he’d made explicitly clear was at least partially about a boy, would be comfortable.

“Let’s hear the options, then.” Dan shifted forward, his elbows moving to rest on his knees, his hands steadfastly crossed in front of him.

“Okay, well the biggest decision is how you want to talk,” Louise explained without looking up from her computer. “There are some tv options, a few website ones, and,” her eyes flickered to Phil. “One radio option.”

Dan followed Louise’s gaze, sending a questioning look at Phil.

“Don’t ask me,” Phil defended lightly with a smile and a shrug. “I’ve been ignoring my bosses’ emails all day. But I did see a few from the BBC with your name in the subject line…”

“Well, given the decision to not confirm, um, us right now...” Dan’s gaze flickered between Phil and Louise, whose eyebrows raised in surprise at Dan’s admission. “I don’t think the radio show is the best idea. Plus,” Dan continued before Louise could push him to decide — he didn’t need the pressure, as soon as he’d heard the options, he’d known in his gut what he wanted, needed to do. “I want people to be able to see and hear me. So that leaves television,” he concluded, resolute and unwavering.

“Of course,” Phil agreed understandingly at the same time as Louise asked, “Why?”

Dan caught Phil’s eye. It didn’t surprise him that Phil — who was both in the public eye and queer — would understand why Dan was adamant to discuss this particular topic in a place where editors couldn’t easily chop up his words. And Louise, who was straight and sheltered from the scrutiny of the media, wouldn’t.

Turning his gaze back to Louise, Dan explained, “If I’m going to do this, if I’m going to talk about my sexuality, then I want people to hear this from me.” Dan drummed his fingers on his closed fist, automatically letting out a sigh when Phil’s hand landed on his lower back and began tracing soothing circles just above his pants. “I just — I don’t want websites or magazines or whoever to have the chance to twist my words, and most radio doesn’t have enough coverage for my entire audience to hear it. I want people to hear every word I have to say. It’s too important.”

Louise nodded with a note of finality, her hands clicking around on the computer some more. “Okay, that leaves… three television options. And then that narrows it down to the question of when.”

“The sooner the better,” Dan answered confidently — much more confidently than he’d realized he felt. Now that he’d actually come out, deciding to talk about it felt a million times easier than he ever would have anticipated. “Whatever the fuck Isabella is going to tell Tatler tomorrow, I want to be able to respond as soon as possible.”

Louise clicked silently a few more times before finally looking up. “Alright, what are your thoughts on… The Tonight Show?”

“Brilliant,” Dan agreed with a sigh of relief. He’d been on The Tonight Show a few times since he’d released his first album, and each time it had been a wonderful experience. “Jimmy’s great, he’ll be well understanding and supportive. When?”

“Tomorrow night?” Louise answered with a slight grimace, her voice raising up tentatively.

“Holy shit,” Dan murmured. Needing an outlet for his stress, Dan ran an agitated hand through his hair, tugging on his curls. “The Tonight Show’s in America, Lou! That means I’d have to leave…” Dan trailed off, shaking his head. When he’d said soon, he hadn’t anticipated now.

“On the redeye tonight,” Louise confirmed solemnly. “I’ve already got a ticket on hold, I had a feeling you’d pick this one.”

Dan sighed, resigned to his fate, and dropped his hand to his lap, his fingers tapping out a familiar beat on his knee. It was soon and rushed, but far better than any other option — he knew that without even hearing which other interviews Louise had to offer. “Make it two, I’m not going without you.”

Red lip drawn between her teeth, Louise shot Dan an uncertain half-smile. “It’s Darcy’s first ballet recital tomorrow and I’d be a horrid mum if I missed it…”

“Louise!” Dan balked, outraged at the mere idea of Louise sending him to do this alone. “You can’t expect me to go to New York alone right now!” Less than twelve hours ago, Louise had held Dan while he fell apart — she couldn’t seriously expect him to go halfway across the world by himself. Not to handle this of all topics, even with his surprising newfound confidence.

“Both Tom and Matt — my boyfriend and Darcy’s dad,” Louise clarified with a quick glance at Phil, “are out of town this weekend. If I don’t go, then Darcy will have no one at her first recital,” Louise pleaded, sounding guilty but like she was begging Dan to understand. It was clear that she felt truly horrid. Horrid enough that she might give in if Dan pushed a little bit more.

It wasn’t that Dan didn’t feel bad for Darcy, he just… well, when he pictured himself sitting alone in a hotel room in New York City before going on late night American television to talk about his shitty ex-relationship and his sexuality, he felt even worse for himself.

Before he could start to plead, though, Phil interrupted him.

“I could go,” Phil offered, sounding far too casual for the magnitude of what he was suggesting.

Dan and Louise simultaneously snapped to look at Phil. Dan’s jaw was sagging open as he tried to process Phil’s offer. Out of the corner of his eye, Dan could tell that Louise’s expression wasn’t tons more composed.

“To America,” Dan clarified stupidly. “With me. This weekend.”

“I don’t want you go alone, and if you think Jimmy Fallon is the right choice, then I’ll support you,” Phil agreed easily. His knee knocked against Dan’s purposefully.

“But you have a liveshow this weekend,” Dan replied, still sounding shocked and wildly unintelligent. His brain was having trouble processing Phil’s offer to give up his weekend to fly to a different continent to be Dan’s emotional support while he talked about his sexuality— especially since they’d just had a fight about the fact that Dan had come out without properly telling Phil.

“Liveshows,” Phil retorted with bit of laughter in his voice, “can be done from anywhere, including New York.”

“Oh,” Dan muttered as he finally let himself imagine what Phil, not Louise, coming with him could be like. Let himself imagine having Phil standing backstage as he talked to fucking Jimmy Fallon about being bisexual in front of a live audience. Let himself imagine him and Phil going out somewhere after filming was over, maybe a nice restaurant or bar. Let himself imagine actually getting a whole new kind of support from a relationship.

“You’d do that?” Dan breathed, still in awe. Butterflies were beating at Dan’s stomach, causing Dan to feel overwhelmed by everything he felt for Phil. These emotions were new, and he barely knew what to do with them, but he was so, so happy to finally feel the all-consuming warmth that people talked about.

“Of course,” Phil murmured back. His eyes were bright and full of just as much affection as he held Dan’s gaze. “Supportive and healthy relationship, right?”

“Right,” Dan agreed softly, a slow smile spreading across his face. He’d always thought artists who wrote love songs were exaggerating or selling out, but given the album he was working on, he’d have to reassess his opinion for fear of being a hypocrite. “You’re seriously amazing.”

“So are you,” Phil promised quietly, his thumb gently grazing the side of Dan’s thigh. In perfect sync, both boys leaned in, naturally tipping their lips towards each other.

“Sorry to interrupt lads,” Louise chimed in, yanking them out of their sweet moment. Dan snapped his head to face Louise, only to find her still fully in manager mode with her fingers poised on her keyboard. “The flight leaves in five hours, and if you’re serious, then you should be booked and packing right about now.”

Dan’s mouth opened and closed, gaping like a fish, before he turned to face Phil again. Even without Dan voicing the question that was on the tip of his tongue, Phil gave a singular emphatic nod. That was all the confirmation Dan needed; breaking eye contact with Phil, Dan shifted his gaze back to Louise with a matching nod. “Book the tickets.”

*****************************

When Dan made it to the airport three hours later, he was out of breath and tired. He hadn’t seen Phil since Louise had kicked him out to go pack as soon as the tickets were booked. Phil had left quickly with a chaste kiss and a promise to meet Dan at the airport; now that Dan was here, all he wanted was Phil to be next to him again.

Phil hadn’t been out the door for more than three minutes before Louise forced them to switch into planning mode — not hotels or any of the logistical pieces that Louise could handle while they were in the air, but the very detailed particulars of Dan’s late night appearance. As inauthentic as it felt to craft answers to a million possible questions that he might be asked, Dan knew he’d be grateful for this planning session tomorrow.

The conversation hadn’t been dropped when he’d started packing, either. Louise followed him into the bedroom, and began proposing thousands of possibilities of what Isabella might tell Tatler. Together, they worked through how he could respond to different false accusations and attacks, and decided which bits of his side of their relationship he was willing to share.

Realistically, Dan would only have a few hours between Isabella’s meeting at Tatler and filming his segment of The Tonight Show, so the more preparation he did today, the better. And the majority of those hours would likely be spent backstage, too close to prying ears to properly talk things through with Phil.

By the time Dan had crawled into an uber with his luggage, he had been too sick of talking to even carry on a conversation with the driver. Thankfully, Phil had sent a reassuring text to Dan that his uber was only a few minutes out, and that he’d meet Dan at the airport soon.

The wait for Phil was agonizing. At least three people were wearing the black Ugh beanies that Dan had sold on his last tour, and he was eternally grateful that he’d snagged a bench next to a large pole that he could hide behind. There was no doubt in Dan’s mind that him and Phil would not be able to make it all the way to New York without running into at least one of their respective fans — him and Phil both had massive fanbases, so it seemed inevitable that they’d run into fans at some point. Dan sincerely hoped that the universe could just hold off until Phil was here to help keep up the conversation, though.

From his seat just a few meters from the doors, Dan finally saw Phil tumble through the nearest entrance a few minutes after Dan had checked in, his suitcase precariously trailing behind him. A wave of relief rushed through Dan as the anxiety that was chewing at his edges dulled. Without hesitating, Dan hoisted his backpack on his shoulder and rushed towards Phil. For a moment, Dan didn’t care about any fans that might still be loitering nearby. He launched himself at Phil, arms wrapping around his neck, eager for a hug from his boyfriend after the stress of the last few hours.

“Ooof,” Phil grunted, although Dan could practically hear the smile in Phil’s voice. Clumsy arms circled around Dan’s waist, and Dan was distantly aware of the dull thud from Phil’s suitcase toppling over. Steadfastly ignoring it, Dan squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in Phil’s neck. He took a deep breath, inhaling Phil’s strawberry shampoo and spiced cologne — it was the most relaxed he’d felt since getting out of bed that afternoon.

“Hi babe,” Phil greeted after a moment, his hands loosening from their resting place. Immediately, Dan tensed up, and his hold around Phil’s neck tightened.

“Not yet,” he mumbled, his voice coming out far more desperate and needy than he’d intended for it to. Now that Phil was hugging him, Dan realized how much he had been craving this, how much he needed the warm comfort of Phil.

A soft chuckle tickled Dan’s ear, but Phil’s arms tightened around him again, and Dan relaxed back into Phil’s embrace. Dan knew they couldn’t stay like this long — they needed to get through security and, plus, at some point the risk of someone photographing them would become too high. But for just another moment, Dan let himself not care — not care about their tight itinerary, not care about fans, not care about anything but the warm comfort of Phil.

Phil hugged Dan close and tight, not letting go until Dan unwound himself from Phil’s neck and stepped back. Even then, Phil reached out for Dan, this time lightly stroking his thumb over Dan’s cheek. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, voice low and quiet.

“Definitely,” Dan nodded before turning his head and pressing a chaste kiss to the flat of Phil’s palm.

“Let’s go then,” Phil said encouragingly, bending down for his suitcase before leading Dan back over to his guitar.

“Yeah,” Dan agreed. His fingers brushed lightly against the back of Phil’s hand, his pinkie wrapping around Phil’s for the briefest of seconds. Someday, he’d hold Phil’s hand in airports — and restaurants and bars and fucking Tesco — but for now, Dan reached for the handle of his guitar case. “Let’s go.”