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tteokdoroki · 3 months ago

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✎ᝰ. OCT 8TH ★ MONSTER FUCKING - katsuki bakugou .ᐟ

[CHAPTER EIGHT BEAUTY & THE BEAST] katsuki bakugou as the beast + monster fucking. once upon a time, a village girl thinks to herself — fuck it! being trapped inside a castle with a monstrous sexy bloody beast isn’t so bad… she might as well make it worth her while ( 10.3K ).

✧ chapter contents - minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, beauty & the beast!au, enemies to lovers, bath sex, soft sex, cum play, blood play, size kink, praise kink, body worship, pussy jobs, body modifications, tummy bulges, premature orgasms, marking, biting, belle + fem!reader, beast!katsuki bakugou.

✧ fairy godmother's note - hello, time for our second kinktober fic yippieee!! i think this is my second time doing bakugou and monster fucking...he's just perfect for it!! anyways, enjoy my loves! - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ☆

the beast wasn’t all that bad.

at least, not compared to most people back home.

in the village, beyond the forest’s edge and hidden by evergreen foliage — the townsfolk believe you to be as beautiful as the world around you. eyes as bright as the golden sun rising over a hilly horizon. skin as soft as the flesh of fresh fruits hanging low from the trees. a voice that compliments that of early morning birds — gentle, kind. you’re the perfect vision. a perfect person. except for your one fatal flaw.

you have your wits about you. it makes you strange.

the people of your village think you were peculiar for having the tip of your nose poked into the spine of of a book each and every day. it’s not your fault that you enjoy the scent of their pages or that you find every story so alluring that you could read it over once or twice (and sometimes thrice). the people back home were unnerved by your intelligence — staring at you sideways if you daydreamed for a little too long (wishing for a life outside of your tiny province, one full of adventure) or sending you concerned stares if you stumbled over your steps while reading.

it didn’t help that your papa was a whimsical inventor — his intricate machines that coughed and spluttered a little too loudly and left him covered in soot were often the talk of the town, worsening the whispers. despite the cruel opinions of others, papa’s love for you never faltered, all the while promising you that his prized tools would get you out of town, away from the people who called you odd and strange — they thought him just as crazy as you. like father like daughter, you suppose.

then there was shindou. the most sought after bachelor in all of town and quite possibly the worst part about your old life. your life before the beast. the man was handsome, that much was true — his eyes and hair an inky black that would draw anyone in like a misty night. features, chiselled and strength obvious. shindou was pretty, eye candy without an ounce of brains. conversation with him felt like watching paint dry, he spoke so highly of himself you often wondered how his head hadn’t imploded from getting so big. for some reason, he was hellbent on making you his wife. not because you were smart, or liked to read and explore, but because to him… you were a pretty prize to be treasured.

so, when you stumbled upon the beast’s castle that night and gave up your freedom in exchange for your father’s, you hadn’t realised how lucky you were to be away from yo shindou and his crew. the village too. still, that didn’t take away from the harsh reality of your new prison. an enchanted castle, enclosing you in with the mangy beast.

in strange ways, as strange as your mind, you found in your heart to feel sympathy for the beast, or bakugou as you’d come to know him. for many years he’d been cursed with a form cruel to the human eye — shaggy blonde fur, wild and blood red eyes and horns that were comparable to the devils. his selfish nature and a spell from hundreds of years ago had not been kind to the creature. from the sounds of things ( stories from the seemingly…alive…furniture existing within the walls of his withering home ) bakugou had failed to show concern or care in his youth, by taking a rose from a haggard old woman in exchange for a night’s worth of shelter. in return, she cursed him with the looks of a beast until he could find true love.

his staff ( the furniture ) had told you of his crumbling hope and damaged heart. it still didn't excuse his odd behaviour — where the princely beast told rather than asked, scratched and smashed rather than communicated. he was much angrier than the other inhuman inhabitants of the enchanted castle. though…sometimes you noticed a tenderness swirling between the brown flecks within katsuki’s vermillion eyes, rich with a longing for affection that filled you with warmth whenever you caught him staring at you reading in the library he’d set up just for you or when he’d take you outside to feed the birds in the snow together.

other times, katsuki could be somewhat…charming. since arriving, you could tell that he was doing his best to become a gentleman who toned down his anger. he fiddled with cutlery too small for his claws during meals with you just to be polite — denying his blush with a petulant pout whenever he was caught. he tried not to stare too long or at the wrong places whenever you spoke and spent time together. he wasn’t like shindou, who drooled over you like you were a piece of meat fresh from a roast.

for a long time, you all but wished to find someone who understood you — who’d nurture your mind and the wind beneath your wings rather than see you as a prized pet bird to be kept in a cage. and over time, you had naively began to believe that katsuki, the beast, might have been the only person in this whole world to see you exactly the way you wanted to be seen. the hope that you had met your match flickered like a small candle’s flame in your heart — it reflected as a small glint of light in katsuki’s once exhausted, pessimistic eyes. you thought, day by day, that you could be happy here. with the beast. in place of your village back home.

just when you thought katsuki was changing, that maybe you could be happy here with the beast — you’re thrown back into a reality you had tried so hard not to face. katsuki is a beast, a cruel monster keeping you a prisoner in his home. you are not a friend who has free roam over his castle or free will under his rein, you’re reminded that you’re his captive in exchange for your father’s remaining life. your wake up call comes in the form of an argument, the result of stumbling across the forbidden east wing and a rose petal that wilts so pretty in the centre of an abandoned room.

“i thought i fuckin told you never to come in here!” you could see it in his frenzied eyes, how the trust you’d built up with the beast so quickly came tumbling down. you’d crossed a line and an unspoken rule and no matter how many times the word sorry poured from between your plush lips — bakugou the beast was far beyond the point of forgiveness. he couldn’t trust you, and you couldn’t trust him. “leave!” he’d bellowed, snarled like a warning sign.

katsuki had lashed out at you in a way you’d never seen before. like a wild animal backed into a corner. he’d shown you fangs and growled at you in a noise you know for sure humans don’t make. “get the fuck out!” he roared until you were trembling, throwing whatever he could get his clawed hands on whilst splintering wood and shattering porcelain.

you’d done just that, dashing down flights of stairs in terror while throwing your cape on.

the inhabitants, his little candleholder sero and tiny clock denki along with the others, had tried to stop you. begging you not to face the cold bitter night alone on your horse but your judgement was far too clouded by your emotions — the hurt and betrayed wounds inflicted by the beast who’s trust you thought you had earned. the snowstorm outside rages with your unstable state, how could he scream at you like that? how could he say those awful things? it’s not long before you’re lost the ice cold and the daunting wolves that assume you’re a prey item like a vulnerable deer instead of a young girl with bambi eyes.

viscous, wild, teeth and tongue snap at your horse — threatening to wound you both and draw blood. the animal that you ride, in turn, throws you to the ground in favour of its own escape.

you can’t even blame the poor creature, only fools risk their lives to be at the mercy of a beast.

yet, your beast, your bakugou moved without thinking to save you from a bitter end. you recognise his growls before you see him — and before you know it the limp bodies of wolves that attacked you go flying over your head. their own howls and growls turn to pathetic puppy whimpers as bakugou fights them off, tooth and nail. fighting with all his might to protect you from getting your throat torn out. even if he’d frightened you, screamed at you and broken your trust — he wasn’t about to lose you to a brutish winter and a pack of hungry wolves. the blonde creature fights until his burly body is done and his claws are tainted with the blood of his enemies — wearily looking for you, checking you for wounds in such a gentle way you’re surprised out of your skin. heart racing.

you’ve never seen katsuki look at you that way, as though he was just as terrified of you dying as you were at the thought dying yourself. its not long before his adrenaline wears off and the wounds he’d gotten from his battle finally take their toll on him.

it gives you the chance to run. to escape. to be home with your father.

but what would be waiting for you at the other end? a marriage to a man with half a brain and six children to fill the void. people who thought you mad and crazy? you’d made a promise to stay with him, for your father’s life. there was no other choice but to lug bakugou back to his castle using all of your might. to help him. to save him. not because you wanted to, but because you had to.

at least that’s what you’d told yourself as a way of pretending not not to care for him.

piping hot water sloshes around in the pearlescent tub, fit only for royalty. it’s taken you some time to fill it up to full volume with the help of some of the castles staff… or inanimate objects. momo the sweet little tea pot had been working overtime to boil fresh batches until the water level was high enough for the beast. you’re sure that her stout had nearly given out, but for her master, she’d pushed on. her dedication, all of their dedication (the candleholder, the little clock, the pots and pans and foot rests and dusters) make you wonder what had truly become of this place, a crumbling castle so dark and gloomy that it was left for ruin.

was the beast really worth all of this trouble for all of them to stay by his side and endure his foul demeanour?

then again, why were you also tending to the beast? it’s not as if you enjoyed his company, yet you stay, drawing this bath to help tend to his wounds. the wounds he had gotten as a result of protecting you.

you spare him your gaze once the bellowing creature ( now unusually quiet ) enters the room; no longer tailed by his animated inanimate servants — nothing but a roll of steam and a wall of silence separating the two of you now. though it’s hard not to look at how well he’s built beneath patches of straw blonde fur.

katsuki’s arms are burly and toned, his chest is well sculpted as if carved from the very same stone that makes up the beautiful interior of his castle, whilst the angle of the beast’s face is strong, handsome. you wonder what he may look like completely human, if his jaw would still be sharp enough to cut through marble and diamonds. if his eyes would be narrowed and fiery, swirling with the riches of ruby gems. it takes all your willpower to tear your secretive stare away from him while he undresses in front of you, as though you’re not even there, heat growing rapidly in the middle of your face like the epicentre of an earthquake.

water sloshes violently as his hulking frame sinks into the bath, tinging it an ink stain of rosey pink from where it warmly laps over his open wounds — the sound of water hitting the smooth stone floor lets you know that you can turn around to tend to him. you keep your gaze lowered and mindful as you work, wringing a soft linen cloth in a clearer pot of the liquid mixed with rubbing alcohol. “h-hey, don’t do that,” you scold gently, lips falling into an unimpressed frown as the beast moves to lick at his cuts and scratches. bakugou pauses and squints at you menacingly while you reach for the same soggy paw he’d been tending to. you’d laugh if he weren’t so wounded and you weren��t so scared — he looked like a kitten. “i need to clean them properly.”

an ignorant scoff from the blonde tangles with the soapy steam in the air, only earns him a roll of your eyes and a frustrated glare — his head angling itself away from you because he doesn’t want to give in and admit that your call of action would be right. you find it childish that he would ignore you but take to dabbing the first bleeder that you find with your alcohol soaked cloth, ensuring that it’s completely clean. the stinging sensation at the opening of the wound causes katsuki to roar at you in pain, baring the sharp edge of his teeth as if to threaten you with them.

you jump back, knowing that one wrong move could have you torn up by vicious claws and teeth. “just hold still!” you snap, raising your hands out of the way. “stop being such a baby and let me help you!”

“that fucking hurts, watch it.” he spits hotly, nostrils flared in annoyance.

beginning to shake from a mix of anger and fear, you throw the bloodied cloth in your hand to the edge of the tub. the beast doesn’t look at you and your own temper flares. your face scrunches furiously and a cool snarl lays on the tip of your tongue — your own way of trying to put out the flames before they end in a disastrous blow out.

“if you’d just kept still it wouldn’t hurt so much!”

crimson roses bloom on the surface of the water and bakugou whirls around sharply, both of your chests rising and falling at the impending explosion threatening to blow smoke into the crowded bathroom. “well, if you hadn’t have run away ‘nd straight into a shitty wolf’s den, then this wouldn’t have fucking happened!” he growls back with the air of a petulant child.

“well you hadn’t fucking frightened me, i wouldn’t have run away!” your petty mouth surprises bakugou, you almost seem too pretty to curse — from the moment you’d first arrived at the cursed castle; your beauty had been a breath of fresh hair, hope for a brighter future on the horizon but since being cursed, any charm the beast… the prince might have had wore away over the years. leaving a husk of the man he once was, you have him stumped and spluttering for words, causing his staff behind the closed door to laugh.

an argument, though childish and silly, brews between you both like a storm coming from over a hill. neither of you dare to back down, not caring if you leave deeper and more emotional wounds on one another. katsuki doesn’t know how people work and you’re exhausted, missing home — the pair of you a ticking time bomb of disaster waiting to happen. “well… well, y’shouldn’t have been goin’ through my shit in the west wing!” bakugou reacts before he thinks, wet talons grabbing onto the crisp front of your shirt as he leers down, a gnarly growl clawing its way out of his throat to match the nasty sneer on his snout and lips. “i warned ya, shit happens when you don’t listen.”

at the end of your tether, you forcefully push the herculean tyrannical beast back into the tub — using a surprising amount of might to fully submerge him in the hot water once more. “well you should learn to stop being such a stubborn brat and control your temper!” you’re hardly thinking rationally at this point, sick and tired of letting him think he can bully you into silence and submission… just because he’s big and has claws and sharp teeth that could rip meat from a live carcass.

you move to shove him again but bakugou acts just as quickly — using his existing grip on you to yank you further into his bath. in a struggle and with a surprised scream that overlays his frustrated growling, you collapse against his furry chest and settle into his lap as water sloshes forcefully about the place and soaks through your dress — weighing down its fabric and slowing your movements. after a few minutes of wet wrestling; katsuki either gives up because of the pain caused by his cuts or refuses to fight you anymore — fully aware of what his size in comparison could do to you.

he slumps deeper into the tub, brooding, and an unbearable tension mounts in the air around you. the position has brought you face to face, breath mingling in the pocket of space and time between you both — above him, staggered forward, with your arms either side of his head for stability, katsuki feels that you’re close enough for him to reach out and just brush a thumb over the swell of your plush lips… gently grasp at your chin and maybe give you a kiss. he doesn’t know when he started feeling this way towards you or why he lashes out at you in place of sharing his true emotions but the beast casts his ruby framed gaze to the side, avoiding entering the possibility of making you uncomfortable.

after a moment, any anger that either or you shared fizzles away like a sparkler doused in a bucket of icy water. shame replaces the fire in your veins and you quickly distract yourself from less than proper thoughts of the beast by get back to work on the bleeders in his arms. “n-now hold still…” you tell him, swallowing thickly which undermines the authority in your voice. “it’s going to sting… so please, let me help you.” your voice falls into a tender whisper as you resume dabbing at his injuries with the rag.

bakugou snarls barks roughly while you clean him up but soon relaxes into the water, comforted by your soft vanilla scent and the warmth of your thighs around your waist to keep yourself steady. now that he’s no longer directing his anger at you, the atmosphere dissipates into something more affectionate, hearts beating in calm sync — you sitting on his lap looking so pretty while the lukewarm water carves out the shape of your body beneath wet clothes.

“by the way, thank you for saving my life back there.”

“you’re welcome,” eyes closing, bakugou lets out a shuddered breath, his voice thick with gravel and bidy fidgety beneath your own. despite the cooler water surrounding you both, the temperature in the room rises like a solar flair — especially when your proximity increases so that you can dab up to the gashes stretching across his handsome fully face. when your eyes meet again, admist the work, the blonde is overcome with the urge to kiss you. he surges forward and presses your foreheads together, a large marred and hand encasing the swell of you thigh to pin you to his lap. the movement is rough, disturbing the peaceful bath water but the kiss he gives you is careful and cautious — slightly chapped lips swooping upwards to catch yours in a cute chaste kiss.

you jump at the sudden contact, your entire body tingling with release and an excitable heat flashes through you at the brief sensation. you taste the blood in his mouth and salt on his tongue but before you can fully enjoy the moment — katsuki is gone as quickly as he came. leaning back into the tub with a flushed face.

it’s like your body misses him when he’s gone; despite never having him like this before. “wait… wait,” desperate whispers pour from between your subtly glossed lips and your bath water soaked hands come up to cup the fluffy edges to his face. “kiss me. kiss me again, katsuki,”

surprised by the lack of rejection; bakugou’s talons sink further into the doughiest part of your thighs torn between obliging your request and keeping you far, far away from him. no one has ever wanted something like that… like a kiss, from him of all people. a horrid, ugly and undeserving beast. and yet, you borderline beg above him, hardly distracting from the wet glint in your eyes. you want this. want him. “are you… are you sure?” he tries to ask you, preening into your dainty fingers as they comb back his wet fur.

“i’m sure,” you hum against him, wanting. “please. it’s what i want.”

for a moment; it doesn’t seem like katsuki s going to budge. you sense his hesitancy, some kind of mental block that makes him hold back even as he leans in haltingly and noses over your Cupid’s bow. it’s like he’s testing his own confidence and your patience wears thin — so you open your mouth to plead, to encourage him only for the blonde beast to delve deep into the yearning hotness of your mouth. his lips move against yours with a feverish air, unleashing hundreds of years of pent up emotion and revealing just how touch starved he must have been all this time.

from what you can tell, the beast has been alone for a long rime — shunned for his looks and the cool ice cage around his heart. you’re not sure if you care about any of that, not right now, at least. for your body wins the war over your mind and heart, all worked up by the mash of teeth and tongue that from the basis of your kisses. he gives you what you asked for, long and thick tongue pressing into every unexplored crevice of your eager mouth — starting an itch in your lower belly that you know only bakugou would be able to reach.

having the beast like this, hungry for passion, wandering claws and sharp edged teeth nipping at your lips makes you needier and needier. you sigh dreamily into the sloppy lip locks, losing all control and pushing your hips down against katsuki. rubbing your thighs together over his wide lap is no easy feat, but you try, dying to alleviate the ache brought on by toothy kisses and the possessive sounds he makes when you try to pull away for air. he grunts gluttorally when your clothed cunt accidentally brushes against his impressive bare girth — the only thing separating your sexes being the water logged gusset of your panties, linen and pure white in colour.

you can practically feel his cock twitch beneath your legs as you straddle the beast, peaking out through his golden fur and hardening by the minute. his size should be intimidating to you, just half hard and he’s practically the length of half your arm, even if you were to give it some thought … you’re far too distracted. mind far too hazy — katsuki tearing away from your kiss to stamp a frenzied pathway up your neck and marking it with his claim. the action proves to you that his bark indeed matches his bite when he wants it too, vicious red eyes mapping their way over the unmarked parts of your skin — licking and sucking bruises just beneath the surface that’ll be obvious to the staff in the morning. tender to the touch later on as well.

he doesn’t leave you in pain for too long, lapping over the inflamed areas with his heavy wet tong — a paw reaching out of the bath to settle on the back of your head so he can further relish in the way you weakly hang over him. “so soft….so delicate,” bakugou curiously seeks out more spots along the column of your throat to see which ones make you tick and sigh for him prettily, your warm, wet pussy reacting to his quiet raspy tone and clenching around the water in the tub. with shaky hands, you weave your digits into the roots of golden honey fur in an attempt to bring his mouth back to yours. dying to taste the beast yet again.

you want more. you want to go further. perhaps it’s the adrenaline from having almost lost your life earlier on in the night or maybe you just want to find some sick way to thank the creature that saved it. but all you know, is that you want the beast — right down to your very core. you whimper in frustration and your pulsating pussy rolls smoothly over the beast’s swelling erection floating in the bath water, it’s not enough to satisfy you when you’re burning for his tender touch this bad. “please,” you coo airly, head tilting where katsuki kisses the point at which your neck meets your jaw, tongue dragging over your pulse point. “please give me more of you.”

it’s a big ask, you know. to ask katsuki to be vulnerable with you when you’ve just been at each other’s throats. but you’ve always wanted to know him, from the moment he decided to keep you here in his castle — you’ve wanted to know who he really is behind the fangs, claws and fur. what better time than to ask him now, when you’re grinding against him in a bathtub that barely fits him and dwarfs you by contrast. “why?” bakugou murmurs softly; his fur tacking to your wet skin.

“because… i know you want me too. i-i want to give myself to you.” you huff, shivering at the tenderness in his voice which differs to the black claws that rake up and down your inner thighs, sneaking past the hem of your damp skirts to the scalloped edge of your underwear.

your hands still track their way through his sun kissed fur, lifting his head from your chest to have him look at you. his vermillion eyes drink in every inch of your darling face, puffy lips and doe eyes that glisten under the flickering candle light in the regal bathroom. fucking hell, you were right. he wanted you. ‘course he did.

“if that’s what you wish…” bakugou’s chest rumbles as he speaks before capturing your lips in a chaste kiss, earning warm pools of your slick through your panties, right against his hard cock. he secures his hold on you and shifts to lift you both from the tub — presumably to continue this in his chambers as you grind and grab at him.

however, you tug harshly enough on his fur to make him falter — droplets of water splattering from his silky coat to the tub when he freezes in place (half out of the tub). “w-wait!” shaking your head, you push him back down into the water. “you’re still hurt a-and shouldn’t exert yourself. stay… let me say thank you and take care of the rest,” a beat of silence echoes throughout the room, katsuki unresponsive to your offer. self doubt invades the cave of your skull over your brain, perhaps stopping him had given him time to think this through and regret. perhaps he was caught up in the moment and the beast truly did not want you. you can’t tell, you haven’t been able to read him thus far. his fold demeanour being all that you know. “u-unless i misread this and have pushed past your limits. in which case i’m extremely sorry—“

steeling yourself and putting on a polite smile, you prepare for the worst — pushing yourself from bakugou’s lap in the face of silent rejection. yet, as you turn to leave, a clawed hand darts out to grip your waste and forcefully shakes water from the bathtub. the action keeps you cemented and spread over bakugou’s naked, wide lap and his expression morphs into that of kicked puppy, as though he regrets what he’s done to you already. or not responding to you sooner.

hesitancy occupies the electrified air, dancing in a confusing concoction with the desire that once buzzed through it.

“it’s not that i no longer want you or want this,” the blonde admits gruffly, keeping his eyes on the waves in the water and toying with a loose thread of your sodden skirts. “i haven’t been… kind to you since the start of your stay. i don’t even know if i fuckin’ deserve to have you like this,” in spite of holding back, katsuki’s lungs burn with brightly coloured lust and affection, in shades of fiery red and sunset orange. the steam taking residence in the tiled room trapping you both in the unmistakable heat of desire. “i want you. i do. but ‘m havin’ a hard time believing’ that you want the same. i don’t deserve it. i’m hideous.”

“that’s not true,” you tell him earnestly, cradling his furry wet face between your pruning fingers in an attempt to reassure him. even though he’s at his most vulnerable, your heart flutters against your ribcage at katsuki’s honesty — the beast finally opening up to you. if that doesn’t fan the flames of your desperation for him, then nothing else will. “you’re not to me, bakugou… and if it’s my words you don’t believe, then let me show you. let me help you understand.”

silence resumes as you let your words sink in, hoping that at least one of them has touched the beast’s heart as he has done with yours.

and all it takes is one small nod from katsuki to know that you have — forcing your way into his mouth ( with his consent ) once more, tongue twisting with the pink of his own and uncovering the taste of bloody wolf against his teeth from earlier. the kiss is even more passionate than before, the both of you letting go of your inhibitions, swapping spit while your hands slip from the fur atop his head to run over the softer parts of his body. massaging and mapping out his strong pecs and beefy arms, appreciating every inch of the blonde beast so he never doubts your yearning for him again.

the grinding resumes too, especially as katsuki’s affection-starved body grows used to your debauched touch and hungry kisses — head hitting the very end of the bathtub with a dull thud, sending water over its edge and to your right. you both move with more vigour, the blonde becoming more comfortable in matching your pace and thrusting upwards when you buck down. oxygen evacuates your brain, making room for the inexperienced creature below you every time the heavy, solid length of his cock drags slowly over your increasingly throbbing clit hidden behind panties drenched in both water and fresh waves of arousal.

even with his sprouting confidence and belief that you crave him as much as he does you — the beast moves too slow for your liking, leaving it up to you to take matters into your own hands. quite literally scrambling into the depths of the water to shred off your panties keeping you away from smothering bakugou’s monsterous cock with your silken slit.

his length bobs upright in the water, slapping against his fluffy tummy while is bright red tip breaches the surface — shiny from evidence of his arousal. the pair of you share a hungry moan at the sight, a glossy white smearing over blonde fur, katsuki hard and heavy. he’s unlike any man you’ve ever seen, ribbed entirely along his shaft with balls that hang extremely low and full of seed. despite feeling his size against you before, your mouth falls open in slight shock at the sight, instantly watering — katsuki’s dick could be mistaken for a third leg, chubby and a mushroomed at the tip. you’ve never had a partner so big before.

a tapered whimper, so quiet that you almost miss it, bubbles on the seams of bakugou’s lips as he bites them with his pointed animalistic teeth. “keep starin’ at me like that ‘n i don’t know what i’ll do.” he warns huskily, throat bobbing beneath the sandy fur at his neck. “s’been a while… and i know it’s not like the humans you’re used to. it’s…big. so i understand if you don’t want to…”

“it’s perfect.” you purr lowly and cut him off, the sound rivalling that of the beast’s, leaning forward to spit on his sore red tip as it oozes precum and lewdly rubbing your palm over his cockhead and shaft to spread the lubricating mix all over him, letting it mingle in the water. “you’re perfect. i can’t wait to take you, make it fit. i want to be the one about to make you feel good after so long.”

a strangled howl forms deep within his chest at your admission — his extremely large body palpitating wholly as you take the entire weight of his cock into your dwarfed hand, barely able to fit all of your fingers around him. you feel for the prominent vein in the underside of his shaft, pressing down on it while your remaining fingertips toy with the sensitive ridges and bumps that decorate him.

when you look up at bakugou the beast with beautiful, big eyes he feels like he could die here. happily. in beast form and all. he could never be human again or break his curse and he’d be content to have you looking up at him like this, with his huge cock in your tiny hand, be the last thing the blonde ever sees. “fuck,” he snarls tip bleeding hot arousal over your knuckles and into the tub, knees shifting apart to give you more room — sending water flying out of the bath.

you inch forward again, breathing warmly against katsuki’s damp lips as he begins to weaken beneath you with every pump of his dick. “i can’t wait to see how you feel, i’m going to get myself ready for you. is that okay?” you check with him, even though his mane is tousled about with how fast he’s nodding. whispering faint pleads against your wet Cupid’s bow.

“please… just hurry it up,” katsuki lets his temper flare briefly, almost as hot as the water that soaks his fur and your clothes. lukewarm at best. he rambles for the most part, brainlessly even. lackadaisically rutting into the pathetic small circle your little fist barely makes around him — the force of his hips causing water to splash up against your dress. “‘m ready for it…” he adds begrudgingly.

the sight of the beast’s submissiveness and desperation brings a smile to your cherry bitten lips, clit throbbing and cunt quivering around the water you sit in. “i’ve got you, don’t worry…” assuring him gently, your mouth hangs open and follows the sweet howl uttered from your partner’s lips — its volume just above the explicit, wettish sounds of your hand jerking off the entirety of his shaft. even though you don’t want to, you only slightly let up on the pace of your palm smoothly gliding in and out of the water ( around katsuki ) to pull him towards your bare pussy.

his hips canter and chase your heavenly grip, fat droplets of his precum flying about the place and into the tub from just how much the beast is leaking. bakugou feels his mind sink into a hazy fog when you lift your hips to hover over his girth, the fuzziness shrouding his brain showing on his muzzle and handsome face. bliss lines his vermillion framed eyes, those same eyes that flutter shut in anticipation. waiting for you to put your honeyed pussy on him and make him yours.

katsuki can’t contain the feverish pants that escape him when you guide his clawed paws to hold your hips and help lower you onto him. the closer your heated core gets to his seedy cock, the harder it becomes to breathe and the humid he exhales starts to mingle with your own.

both of you hiss pitifully in unison at the first tap of the blonde’s monsterous cock against your sticky, needy mound. your aching clit instantly catches on the ridges of his dick deliciously, causing you to crumple against the beast’s marshy furry chest — gripping onto locks of gold around his neck to ground yourself, bring yourself back down from an immense and otherworldly jolt of pleasure that bounces from the tail end of your spine to the top of your skull. you feel as though your brain has been knocked about, bakugou languidly thrusting upwards to drag his length through sluice, puffy folds and grind against your clit — clearly seeking the heat of your pulsating sex.

“s-so good, katsuki,” a sheen of sweat condescends against your skin, glazing you in a pearlescent shine while you throw your hips back and forth over the blonde’s fat dick. he’s in no better state than you, talons sinking into the peachy flesh to cope with the way you move feverishly above him. sweat beads at his hairline, murderous ruby eyes growing heavy and kisses and god, you think he looks so perfect like this. when his remorseless resolve comes crashing down and he takes everything that you have to offer. “think you’re so beautiful,”

rose pink tinges hotly at his cheeks while he shakes his head — denying your praise. ropes of saliva forming connections between his sharp white teeth and his strawberry tongue while he tosses his head back at your praise, letting out a stream of enchanting moans. katsuki’s adam’s apple bobs between small whispers of ‘fuck’ and ‘please’ punctuated by the slap of water hitting the floor from your sinfully synced bodies. he doesn’t let up on buck of his hips to meet your sodden sex, your puffy folds spread perfectly either side of the meat or his shaft — allowing your arousal pearling pleasure bud to graze his cockhead rhythmically. causing both of you to quiver in ecstasy.

“‘m not,” the beast denies, drawing his hips far back until they meet the bottom of the tub before jutting forward — his entire length slipping through your soaked pussy lips until his breeders balls tap at your hole. “g-god… think you’re gonna make me cum…g-gonna make me…fuuuck!” he chants, eyes snapping open to capture your gaze.

the tail end of his words form a soft symphony of whines and animalistic chirps, like music to your ears. “i want you to cum, you’d be so pretty cumming against me, katsuki…” you continue to taunt him, following his movement by cheekily driving your fluttering entrance down against his bulbous cockhead — trembling at its thick diameter. you still have no idea how it’ll fit. “give it to me.”

you take his massive paw in your tiny hand, hooking his claw onto the bosom of your dress with trusting eyes. the sound of wet material ripping echoes about the bathroom, the blond having torn right through the damp front of what you wear. you slump forward next, pebbled nipples brushing pleasurably over katauki’s fluffy toned chest. his fur is slick and clings to the water droplets on your glistening skin — especially with your bodies submerged under the lukewarm water.

“you… y’don’t know what you’re askin’ for,” bakugou slurs deeply, grinding the tip of his dick against the ring of muscle at your entrance as you glaze his painfully with sweet the honey nectar dripping from your cunt. he’s so close he can practically taste it, all he needs is one little push. so you take his hand, leading him into a mistified fog of love and lust — reaching up, you drag a tender finger over the dark black horns that spiral from between roots of sun kissed blonde hair and fur, revelling in the way katsuki’s breath hitches. “d-don’t… they’re fuckin’ sensitive…”

all you do is hum in response, practically pressing your chest to the beast’s face as you learn further up and teasingly drag the length of your tongue over one scaled black appendage, taking the second horn between your wet, pruney fingers to jerk it like you would his cock. “they feel good when i touch them?” there’s a certain husk to your voice that puts the man on edge beneath you, colourful language littering his tongue, spurts of precum clinging to the insides of your folds. “what if i…?”

your hot, warm mouth encapsulates the very tip of his horn and your cheeks hollow out so that you have the room to suck him down your throat — mindful of its jagged surface. you feel so full and in all the best ways, the thickness of his horn causing a swell in your throat. his bright red tip, feverishly leaking precum, just barely bullying its way past the tight ring of your entrance, tapping against your sticky pussy even under water. you’re drooling from every hole, every place that you could possibly be fucked in and it’s all for him — willingly sucking him down… its for him.

“fuckin’ hell… sweetness, please. when ya touch me like that ‘m gonna—“ that's what makes you swallow around the beast as his sensitive horn presses against your uvula, spit pouring out against it.

even as his eyes disappear into his dark skull at the feeling , katsuki drools over you as though you’re a prime cut of meat — a claw drifting up from the fat at your waist to the now naked and pliant mounds of flesh at your chest. he squeezes your breasts tightly in his monstrous palm, each point of each claw digging into your skin until electric dopamine crackles quickly across your synapses — dizzying your brain and ability to function. his grip is so sinfully tight that it’s enough to draw blood, crimson rose petals inking their way between the valley of your breasts and blowing on the surface of the water filling in the tub.

you don’t stop kissing and sucking on his horn — tasting the ash between each scale, like firewood. he doesn’t stop rutting against your sex, sloshing sounds fluttering through the air. it’s your moan around him that sets the beast off, choked and spluttered; the sweet symphony guiding bakugou through the rough terrains of his high like he’d done so for you outside. static erupts over his brain and numbs all four of his limbs while a white as bright as the evening’s snowfall flashes behind hazy red eyes. his blonde head of hair drops weightily to your damp shoulder; hips stumbling against your cunt, as thick ropes of his early release hit your clit underwater.

with a prideful your lips pull off of his horn, listening happily to his washy, uneven mewls. even though he hadn’t been ready to cum just yet, it was by no means a small orgasm. katsuki’s load is heavy, still coming in hot, viscous waves as you suddenly slip down on his throbbing shaft — using the mix of water and orgasm as lube to help you with his size. “t-takin’ me all at once… still cummin’,” bakugou gasps like a fish out of water, pupils blown wide as the black in his eye eclipses the red. “you gotta be careful… ‘m big, sweetness. don’t wanna hurt you.”

katsuki bakugou, the beast, is perfect. you know that now, whether it’s because your brain is fucked up with sex crazed hormones or because you genuinely do care for him deep down. either way, you think that he’s perfect, and you want him every way. his cock stretching your tight heat has you delirious, you think the burn of his size might even kill you as it pulses in your lower belly.

“w-what makes you think you might hurt me?” you drawl and your sopping walls accept every inch of him with ease, reminding him of how lucky he is to have you. to be able to fuck you. it’s almost as if you’re made specifically for the beast — wandering into his castle with intention. not just for your father.

there’ll never be another beauty like you and he’ll never be able to let you go after this.

you ooze viscous nectar against katsuki, blossoming for him like a flower made for the coldest of winters while he presses into you — deeper and deeper. until you’re pelvis to pelvis in the warm tub. “‘cause...you’re so small compared to me, sweetness,” he explains over the lump in his throat — a growl escaping from behind his larger, menacing set of teeth. “such a fuckin’ dainty…pretty… little thing. fuck… if we do this i ain’t sure i’ll be able to hold back.”

lowering your hips and clenching hard, you lock the blonde into your heat selfishly, even though your legs are about to give out and you feel faint from taking the entirety of him in one go. “but that shouldn’t stop you from having your way with me, beast.” you murmur. “i don’t want you to hold back. you’re perfect and i want you just the way you are,” taking his paw in your palm, you draw it back to the claw marks struck lovingly against your chest — letting him feel the strong beat of your heart between your breasts. “my heart is racing, bakugou,” you croon and nuzzle your nose against his cutely, earning a light purr from the man beneath you. “i think… i think you make me feel this way.” your heart has never fluttered for someone like this before, not for yo shindou or any other man back home. you feel so small and safe with katsuki, even if he seems scary on the outside — you know that he’s tender and always means well.

that’s all the permission katsuki needs, really. hearing you tell him that you want him, even if it’s in his most carnal and instinctive way, is the same as hearing the magic word to him. with revitalised motivation, the blonde beast plants his feet against the smooth base of the tub and thrusts all the way into you with one fluid motion — hips flush against your fleshy ass and bottoming out in your weeping pussy. each movement is easily guided by his previous release, forming a foamy white ring at your entrance. he wraps a hand around the back of your head, claws massaging your scalp to soothe the cloying cries caused by the new angle as he keeps you pinned to his body.

bakugou relishes in the warmth of your syrupy walls clenching tightly around his bricked up length but manages to find strength in pulling from your selfish slicked up hole to set a slow, calculated pace to the way he bucks into you — dragging his monstrous girth along your ribbed walls and pleasure points. the utter power behind his hips quickly have water splattering over the edge of the bathtub and tear through babyish yelps escaping from between your cherry-bitten lips. the beast takes control of your body like a king or a prince with a strict rein over land. ruling over every thought once rattling around in your mind.

your shaking hands take hold of sun-kissed tooth’s of his fur, ones that muffle your little laments and whines as katsuki fucks you down on his shaft — taking you to the high heavens and back. cloud nine just within your reach. oxygen eludes you, leaving your lungs vacant and struggling to keep up with everything the beast gives you — carving a pathway for his big seedy cock against your insides with every feverish buck of his hips into yours. “feels…feels s’good!” you shriek desperately, trying your best match his rhythm. “so deep, makin’ me feel so full!”

“already? haven’t even given you a proper load yet,” bakugou chuckles between condescending moans, drunk on the way it feels when he stretches you out around him the deeper he goes, poor pussy changing to accommodate his breath-taking size and whatever love he has to give you. as a result, the beast fills you until you’re practically a glass overflowing with love and pleasure. “could plug you full with dick ‘n cum, ‘n it still wouldn’t be enough for you. would it?”

using a free hand, the blonde drags his claws grip down to your fleshy ass and spreads your cheeks apart, growling as the webs of slick tying them together break over his fingers — dampening them just as much as the water from the bath. his grip allows him to bully himself further into your molten core, moulding you perfectly up and down on his cock. “love how you feel around me, sweetness,” the praise smooths over your brain, wiping it of any feedback you have for the blonde and all you can do is gargle passionately in ecstasy. “don’t think i deserve to… fuck a pretty girl this tight…”

you squeeze around katsuki where your words fail you, juices dripping down his length into the bath nastily until it bathes his breeders balls as they clap against the curve of your ass repeatedly — heavy and full of a second load of cum just for you. even though he pushes and smears the first against pleasure spots dotted along your velvety walls. shaking your head, face hidden in water-logged fur, “y-you’re the only one who deserves to fuck me, katsuki, have this tight pussy— oh!” the tail end of your words come out as choked, lost to the echoey bathroom and splashing water as bakugou sinks his fangs into your bare shoulder.

he bites you, not only to mark you and taste the sheen of saltine sweat on your skin, but to pacify himself — help him cope with each flutter of your wet pussy and angelic simper. a delectable pain blossoms underneath the surface of your skin, and you weave your nimble fingers into bakugou’s fur to keep him in place, letting him bite you hard enough to draw blood. wounding you just as much as he had been wounded.

ruining the bath with more than just sweat, juices and cum.

bakugou fucks you like he loves you, like he’s been waiting thousands of years to pour locked-away affections from his soul into yours. limbs slip and slide against the walls of the tub, filling the homing air and layering over the vulnerability lying in it. you’re sure you’d see this hidden truth in his vermillion eyes if you had the strength to look up from his chest too.

“keep talkin’ to me like that, swear i’ll ruin you ‘n this pussy for everyone. myself… the next man that has you,” bakugou growls as feral as the animal he’s been turned into. even with his body pressed hotly against yours, joined at your sticky sexes while you’re chest to chest ( sensitive nipples brushing each other’s), he still can’t see how much of you he owns. neediness and yearning spark between your compressed bodies as they dance together underwater, skin slapping on skin and water spilling everywhere. “she’ll never be able t’forget the way i make her fuckin’ feel…”

“oh god, please. please—“ you feel like you’re in the verge of tears, overwhelmed by everything that is the beast. that makes up katsuki bakugou. his size and thickness drive you insane, how he feels thrusting into your gummy walls and meeting the hilt sends you up a wall. not to mention the scent of his body, his fur, permeating your skin possessively and sinking into your pores. “don’t want anyone else after you, wanna have you inside of me forever. only you inside. just so pretty when you’re fucking me, katsuki…” you admit through earnest and shaky hiccups.

despite rambling, your words feeling tacky on your tongue like someone’s stuffed your mouth with cotton, katsuki seems to finally get the hint. he makes you feel this way, he makes you see stars, he’s the one that you want — fully and undeniably. without a care in the world for how he looks. if that were the case, you wouldn’t be letting him rapidly rock his hips into you with lewd squelching sounds emanating from your ravaged pussy. you wouldn’t bounce up and down on his aching dick to chase him with a spasming, slippery hole when he just about pulled out of you, losing control of the movements of his hips — spreading the arousal beading on his cockhead against your insides.

“f-fuck… you’re gonna be the death of me…”

the edge of the beast’s words develop a sharp shakiness to them, a sheen of sweat painted over your bodies from both the humidity in the bathroom and the exertion of your activities. you were living for the burn his fat girth created as it pushed its way past your puckered hole every time he jutted upwards or you weakly fucked down — bakugou knew you wanted more and he’d give it to you too.

“y-you’re prettier. especially when i’m the one fuckin’ you,” bakugou whimpers seraphically, using his strong hand on your wet ass to lift and drop you in his milky white dick — not caring about the water that got everywhere, only focusing on matching you to his length jackhammering in and out of your pathetically creamy pussy. you spasm, keeping him a prisoner in your cunt while he spews copious amounts of precum inside of you and into the tub — coaxing a fresh wave of blistering hot essence out of you.

all of a sudden, the beast uses his brute strength to shift your positions with his cock still nestled within you and your back splashes against the remaining water in the tub — dampening your back and the crown of your hair. katsuki doesn’t let you sink too far back into the water, instead, holding you up by the far at waist, large paw curling around it entirely. “see that? my cock bulging in your tummy. s’all me, sweetness. will only ever be me. you’re mine, all fuckin’ mine for all of time.” he whispers above you lecherously, hazy vermillion gaze floating like driftwood down to your soft stomach. your eyes follow his, breath caught in your throat at the sight, the shape of him outlined there as he pounds into your g-spot lovingly, dotting your eyes with constellations. “hold onto me, sweetness. gonna make us cum.”

quickly, you wrap your ankles around the smallest part of the beast’s waist — cunt unlocking and locking around the curve of his dick at random with the new position. choking the precum out of him, opaque fat drops pearling at the slit every time katsuki’s hips lunge forward powerfully. “i love you,” tears begin to brew in your glassy eyes and gather in your lashes like dew drops on a leaf, streaming down the hot apples of your cheeks as you become overwhelmed with emotion. you’re not sure if you cry because of dopamine, lust and happy hormones jolting from your brain to the tips of your toes or because of the way katsuki slots his body against yours — drowns you in everything that is him.

either way it doesn’t matter, because you don’t know what you’d do if the beast stopped loving you like this. making love to you with every push of his cockhead against sluice walls, every swipe of his tongue over your swollen lips and every scratch of his claws against your supple body.

“i love you,” you repeat, the taste of your orgasm rushing over the horizon as you claw desperately for something, anything to ground you. you wriggle and write underneath him, sending more water out of the tub, stomach twisted in delightful knots and only manage to steady yourself by grasping bakugou’s thick black horns above you. “i want to be yours forever…b-because you’re perfect ‘n feel so good. ‘n no one will care for me like you do…”

“‘hmyfuckingods…shit!” bakugou swoops down to lick curse words into your impassioned, temperate mouth, weakened by your warm touch around his sensitive horns and your own words mewled out like a promise to the cursed monster of a prince. watching the beast, your beast, break above you hardly soothes your wrecked insides — honeyed juices drooling down your thighs, dripping into the tub in a viscous lava flow each time he pumps into you. parting between kisses and through your wet lashes, you witness the way sweat drips from his hairline and fur, the way his dark brows are furrowed in concentration ( focused on bringing you to the top of your peak ) and how his arms flex in order to drag your pulsating pussy up to meet his thick cock — skin smacking and breath mingling in the musky air.

his golden fur glistens under warm candle light and if you looked close enough, you could spot the twinge of pink at katsuki’s cheeks from his exertion. he’s beautiful on top of you, fucking you, that you’d be happy drown here in this bathtub if it meant he was the last thing you ever got to see. “tell me how much you want me,” bakugou snarls against your swollen lips, spouting the covetously loaded words against your strawberry tongue before he slopping kisses you again — teeth clashing with yours, incisors nipping your bottom lip until it’s bloody while he maps out the taste of sex in your mouth.

as if to coach an answer out of you, his knuckle slips between your connected bodies to toy with your throbbing clit — being mindful of his claws, not wanting to cause you any pain when you’re so close to reaching your high. it’s hard for you to speak when his cock slips into you like magic and attacks your throat with a bounty of love bites in purply-blues. his intensity washes over you in waves, scorching you and soothing you all at once. over all the harsh moments once shared between you.

instinctively you squeeze at his horns and search for words, but bakugou answers for you — hardly peeling away from your, damp hot skin while he pulses to life inside of you. “cause i want you. want you so fuckin’ bad that it burns me. hurts me.” snarls and pushes his creamy cock as deep and as far as it can go, practically splitting you open, spreading your thighs wide ( as wide as the tub will allow ) to make room for his wide frame and hips between them. you can just tell how much he wants you, how it tears him apart pieces you back together, by the way he grinds against you — fluffy pelvis brushing against your puffy clit. with the hope to push you over the edge. “gods… you make me wanna lose it…”

the beast picks up a pace and a thick strand of your mixed arousals swings between your bodies where the blonde beast plugs your spasming hole, the milky liquid finding purchase on your inner thighs and the veins that spiral down his shaft. the both of you start to lose it together, water slipping and sliding everywhere as bakugou moves to sit on his haunches, all-encompassing grip on your waist lifting you from the shallow depth of the tub to keep you on his cock — pussy squelching over his swollen and red shaft.

in response, your back bows away from the bottom of the tub until you’re chest to chest once more and your lips part with “i want you, i want you, i want you! n-no one else!” you chant loudly, the words nearly lost over the sounds of the beast passionately slamming into you over and o er again. “k-katsuki! think i’m gonna… so close—! cumming—!”

using two knuckles, bakugou pinches your clit between them and sends you hurtling over the edge of ecstasy. that’s all it takes, him purring to you as white flashes behind your glassy eyes. you squirt hard against him, into the tub, clear liquid spurting from your ravaged sex and covering the beast’s fur in a messy layer of your release. there’s so much of it, that it nearly forces his cock from your quivering hole — but he can’t bare to be away from you, to waste his own orgasm. for the damn in the beast’s lower belly breaks as well; an earth shattering high comes crashing down on him and forces his bulking furry frame to collapse over yours — hips stuttering and water rushing out of the bath.

katsuki tucks his burning face into your neck one final time. his nostrils flare and chest heaves as he cums with an frightening roar, arms encircling your head to keep you still and pinned beneath him while katsuki unapologetically ruts into your ruined heat; dragging his bulbous cockhead deliciously against your silken walls as his seed pours into you in a large, unapologetic amount. potent and thick white floods your womb, cloying against the ribbed parts of your pussy. so much so, that you feel your tummy bulge even as some of it runs down your slit and between your ass cheeks — into the tub below.

neither of you move, completely weak and shaky in one another’s embrace — limbs heavy from water that clings to bakugou’s fur and your skin. if you could speak and your ears were no longer ringing from your world ending high, you’d tell the beast that you love him. that you care about him. that you never want to leave him.

if his state was any better than yours, you’re sure he’d do the same.

but for now, you grasp onto his wet back and rake your hands through the masses of wet golden fur to tug bakugou, the cursed beast, closer to you. never letting him go. pulling him in to press a lasting kiss into his damp, muzzle. hoping your subtle affections will make do instead.

the end.

#✐ᝰ KINKTOBER ‘24 #bakugou x reader #bakugou smut #bakugou x you #bakugo smut #bakugo x reader #bnha x reader #bnha smut #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou smut #bakugou katsuki smut #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x you #bakugou thirst #mha smut #bakugou imagine #tteokdoroki #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing

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yandere-daydreams · 5 months ago

Text

Title: Without Parole.

Pairing: Yandere!Neuvillette x Reader x Yandere!Wriothesley (Genshin).

Word Count: 3.8k.

TW: Implied Non/Con, Prolonged Imprisonment, Wrongful Imprisonment, Unhealthy Relationships, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, Blood, Possessive Behavior, and Gratuitous Old Man Yaoi.

“You reek of mortal blood.”

Neuvillette watched through half-lidded eyes as Wriothesley glanced over his shoulder, a careless grin already tugging at the corner of his lips. He paused, letting the shirt he’d only just started to button hang limp over his chest, and turned to face Neuvillette properly – albeit, never removing himself from the edge of the mattress. “I wonder why,” he murmured, keeping his voice low, playful. “It’s not like I’ve been carrying six liters of the stuff around or anything.”

Neuvillette softened, as he always seemed to when gifted with Wriothesley’s full attention, but didn’t relent. “It’s not yours. You’ve never been so—” He couldn’t stop himself, grimacing. “—sweet.”

Such a simple description didn’t do justice to the extent of the wrongness currently laid over Wriothesley’s pointed, metallic scent. It was almost sickeningly saccharine; overripe fruit and overused perfume and sugar boiled to the point of caramelization. It was a haze more than anything, the type of numbing agent used to dull the senses and hide something more vile, more cutting. Neuvillette didn’t care for it, but then again, Neuvillette didn’t care for most things that placed himself between him and Wriothesley.

“…I don’t like it,” he admitted, nearly under his breath. He let his eyes fall shut and, as if in response, felt Wriothesley’s hand cupped his cheek, the calloused pad of his thumb tracing over his jaw. “Someone’s been putting their hands on you. If it’s one of your guards, I’ll have them transferred to—”

“Careful, love.” At least Wriothesley was delicate with his interruption. “You’re starting to sound a little jealous.”

Neuvillette stiffened, more out of reflex than anything. Despite his best attempts at self-restraint, possessiveness was simply in a dragon’s nature. No part of him wanted to treat Wriothesley like a precious object to be locked away without sympathy or softness, and even if he had any desire to be so domineering, it would’ve been impossible; he had his duties to Fontaine, and Wriothesley had his to the fortress that lied under its seas. Taking him away from his station would be irresponsible, if not cruel. Wriothesley was not a man who could live under the heel of another.

And yet, while the humanity within him knew Wriothesley could only ever be a lover (a distant one, at that), his draconic nature howled for something soft and pliable and able to be captured and kept, something he could dig his fangs into and never release. For a mate, as primal and primitive as the idea seemed.

He forced himself to relax, to exhale, to open his eyes and pull himself into a more respectable position. One hand found Wriothesley’s where it was laid over his cheek while the other found a thigh – his pointed nails burrowing into well-scared skin. Kissing Wriothesley came naturally, as unfamiliar as he’d once been with such human gestures of affection, and his lover posed no resistance, even as the defined points of Neuvillette’s teeth dragged across his bottom lip and the iron tinge of fresh blood joined the taste of Wriothesley’s mouth. Neuvillette couldn’t stop himself, letting out a raspy groan, pushing himself against Wriothesley with all the tenderness and all the misery of a wild animal, desperate not to tear apart what it loved most.

And, for the most part, Wriothesley was kind enough to pretend he felt the same.

He met you a month later, tucked within the iron walls of Wriothesley’s underworld.

You were already in his office, sitting at an ancient player piano he would’ve sworn hadn’t been there the last time he’d visited the fortress. He’d mistaken it for one of Wriothesley’s records, at first – your playing paced and melodic, hesitant in a way that could be regarded as pleasant if your listener happened to be rather patient. You only paused as he crested the staircase leading to Wriothesley’s loft, snapping towards Neuvillette with an expression only comparable to that of a small, frightened animal. You recognized him quickly enough, relaxing somewhat when you did, but not before he recognized you.

Or, rather, the sweetness you absolutely reeked of.

It was more overpowering than it had been, when he’d only been taking in the residuals of it left on Wriothesley. Rotting fruit abruptly seemed like an inaccurate comparison, too simple, too blatantly vitriolic. If your scent could be linked to anything, it would’ve had to be caramel – sugary and fresh and cloying in its inescapability. It took more self-control than it should’ve not to bare his teeth, not to let his anger rise to the point of visibility. It grew easier to control himself as your eyes fell back to the keys in front of you, as you shrunk into yourself – his presence not so great of a relief as to completely undo your meekness. “Monsieur Ludex,” you muttered, nearly under your breath. He had attempted not to think of Wriothesley’s hypothetical lover, but if he had, he might’ve pictured someone more brazen. “I… I’m not sure where His Grace is, at the moment. I know he’ll be returning eventually, but if you’re in a rush, you might be able to find him in—.”

“I can wait.”

It wasn’t a question, but you nodded regardless, never looking away from your instrument. It wasn’t until he fell into the seat slotted against the opposing wall that your hands found the keys and you spared him a quick, almost skittish glance over your shoulder. He caught your gaze and held it, and although he’d never confess it aloud, his more primal aspects relished in the way you seemed to wither under the weight of his gaze. “Please, don’t let my company disturb you.”

You didn’t need much more incentive than that. Admittedly, your playing was far from insufferable; not quite as polished as the musicians of the Opera Epiclese, but far from that of an amateur. It would’ve been impossible to guess how long he listened to you for; one song seeped into another without pause, forming a medley that you’d either memorized long ago or, more fantastically, made up as you went along. You seemed used to your instrument, too. Wriothesley must’ve had you play for him often.

It was also, admittedly, difficult to reconcile the image of you in front of him with that of the conniving, sugar-sweet seductor he had pictured upon first noticing the new tinge to Wriothesley’s scent. The bland, standard-issue clothing of a prisoner hung loose on your form, clearly a size too large by the most generous of measurements, and no aspect of your posture nor your expression communicated that you found any amount of comfort within the walls of Wriothesley’s office. When he thought to look, he could make out discoloration encircling your wrists, painted over your knuckles, but minor injuries were common in the fortress. It would’ve been unwise to make assumptions based only on a handful of bruises.

Your medley only faltered upon Wriothesley’s arrival – unpredictably abrupt and endearingly violent, you and Neuvillette given only a moment to acknowledge that the door to his office had opened before he showed himself. His attention fell to you, first, as did his affection. You bit back a grimace as he pulled you into a crushing embrace, his mouth brushing over your temple, then falling to the corner of your jaw, as if he intended there to be something more intimate than a fleeting kiss. Before he could make contact, though, his gaze darted to Neuvillette. There was an unpolished grin, a teasing glint in his eyes, and then he was drawing back from you, muttering something as he pulled away. Neuvillette forced himself not to want to hear it.

And yet, he watched intently as Wriothesley separated from you and came to him, instead. A single knee was propped against the worn velveteen cushions of the loveseat, two bandaged hands clasped over the bronze gilding of the backrest – Wriothesley once again choosing to put himself in the position of the cager, rather than the caged. Neuvillette allowed himself to be guided into a shallow kiss, but when Wriothesley pulled away, he didn’t chase after him. It was pathetic as far as shows of discontent went, but Wriothesley let out an airy, knowing chuckle regardless. “Do I owe this visit to business or pleasure, monsieur?”

“Business.”

Wriothesley’s grin quirked into a defined pout, but he didn’t protest. Neuvillette feigned disinterest as he collapsed into the chair behind his desk, and you fell back into your song as if you’d never missed a note. The conversation ranged from middlingly polite to stiflingly bureaucratic; Neuvillette careful not to broach any topic more personal than the number of prisoners the fortress should expect in the following six months. It was only as their discussion neared its end that you seemed to shift, your music drifting in and out of audibility as you pushed yourself to your feet and, after gathering the sheet music you hadn’t bothered to touch, started towards the staircase leading—

“(Y/n).”

Whatever Wriothesley might’ve been saying was immediately forgotten with a snap of his fingers, a vague beckoning gesture. You stiffened, but complied, leaving your burden on the corner of his desk as you shambled to your warden’s side. Your routine seemed practiced, albeit still rough around the edges. An arm lashed out as soon as you were close enough, catching you by the waist and dragging you into his lap, keeping you there with a forearm bared over your midriff.

It’s almost impressive, just how blank you manage to keep your impression – the pinnacle of passivity. Wriothesley was not so aloof.

“Monsieur Neuvillette’s been asking about you,” he started, his hand finding your wrist. You tried to pull away – an automatic response, Neuvillette guessed – but Wriothesley’s hold was tight, unyielding. “I’m sure you can find it within yourself to thank him for all the time he’s spent thinking about you, now, can’t you, dear?”

Your eyes flicker to the ground. “…thank you, sir.”

“And for keeping you company while I was away. I know how much you hate being alone.”

Your fist balled around the hem of Wriothesley’s coat. Neither of you seemed to notice. “Thank you, sir.”

“See what I have to deal with? I promise, they’re normally more well-behaved. It just takes them a few minutes to come out of their shell.” Wriothesley’s head bowed low as he guided your hand to his mouth. You didn’t resist, this time, only flinching into yourself as his pointed canines burrowed into the tender apex of your wrist. You held onto that shut-eyed, furrowed expression as the flat of Wriothesley’s tongue ran over the twin pair of puncture wounds and then, with no particular ceremony, held your wrist out for Neuvillette’s careful evaluation. “For your trouble, monsieur.”

Wriothesley’s intention was clear, as was Neuvillette’s refusal – signaled with little more than a quick shake of his head, a steeper arch to his frown.

He had no need to taste you. Not when his senses were so sharp compared to Wriothesley’s, so refined.

Not when he could already feel his twin cocks hardening against his thigh.

“No gratitude is needed.” He stood abruptly, eager to be on his feet. For whatever reason, Wriothesley’s office suddenly seemed several times smaller than it had, before. He could feel saliva pooling underneath his tongue, his vision growing sharp and predatory, and he fled with no further commentary; only nodding curtly to the fortress guards as he escaped from Wriothesley’s office altogether and started for the elevator, the only way back to the surface and all of its wonderous open air. It was an abuse of power, of position. Failing that, he could be tried for inappropriate conduct, or public indecency – something defined and sterile that Neuvillette could put a name to and assign an appropriate sentence. He needed to—

“Monsieur Ludex!”

He felt a smaller hand catch his sleeve and bit back the temptation to claw, to snap, to bite. Instead, he turned slowly, eyes flickering downward to find you standing behind him, glancing from side to side as you held the frill of his sleeve in a pale-knuckled grip. He could see a flush dusted over your cheeks, making out the slight, shallow panting you were attempting in vain to suppress. You must’ve been chasing after him for quite some time.

“It was—” You paused, swallowed, bowed your head. You cupped his hand between both of yours, clenching your eyes shut entirely. “It was an honor to meet you.”

He waited for you to release him, which after a stilted beat, you did hastily. “Likewise.”

You said nothing else, only nodding stiffly as he turned away from you. It wasn’t until he boarded the fortress’ elevator that he noticed the scrap of paper tucked into his glove; clearly torn from the corner of some yellowed sheet of music, if the measured bars and dotted notes were any indication. Two words had been messily scrawled across the yellowed parchment, almost endearing in their predictability. Despite himself, Neuvillette found himself smiling as he read over them.

‘Help me.’

It wasn’t difficult to find your file. It wasn’t kept in his office, but a smaller wing of the Palais Mermonia, one meant for trails that never made it to the Opera Epiclese. He opted to retrieve the file in the dead of night, so as not to disturb his dedicated staff, and review its contents in the privacy of his personal chambers.

No detail was particularly interesting, but he read over each page with a meticulous sort of care, careful not to let any word or figure go without loving appreciation. You were born to a small farming village north of the city, orphaned at the age of ten and released into your brother’s custody at twelve, after he served a minor stint in the very fortress you were currently resigned to. At eighteen, you enrolled into one of Fontaine’s premier preforming art academies on scholarship and withdrew at twenty due to familial difficulties, resigning from your position among the Opera Epiclese’s in-house orchestra in the same year. Your crime was equally unremarkable; petty theft, only a single count to which you plead guilty. Neuvillette wasn’t surprised. Theft was not an uncommon crime, especially for those unused to the overwhelming splendor of Fontaine’s courts, although it rarely resulted in a criminal change. He would have to look into the details of your case later on.

No, it wasn’t the crime itself that surprised him, but the sentencing information scrawled underneath it – the assigned length of your sentence, followed immediately by time served. The former was four weeks, the recommended length for first-time, non-violent offenses.

The latter, updated as of three days prior, was seventeen months.

Neuvillette rarely found the time for sleep, and when he did rest, he rarely dreamt. That night, he plagues with visions of Wriothesley kissing his neck, honey and caramel dripping from his lips and drowning them both.

The next morning, he penned a letter to Wriothesley – not as one lover to another, but the Ludex of Fontaine to the Duke of Meropide. The contents were blunt, polite, consisting of little more than a request as to the documentation behind your extended sentence. The letter he received back, delivered by one of Wriothesley’s couriers, contained no written response, but a tattered scrap of pure ivory silk, stained with scarlet blood and still damp with a transparent, viscous, saccharine substance.

He spent the remainder of the day with the cloth pressed against the lower half of his mouth, his fist moving over his cocks as he pictured you bound in silver at the bottom of the sea.

The arrangements were made as quickly as could be expected. Neuvillette took care to lend your plight his personal attention, muttering your name aloud for the first and only time when he had Wriothesley pinned to his desk, both cocks hilted entirely inside of his lover. His lover and yours, he supposed. He found that the thought no longer revolted him the way it once had.

Wriothesley, for his part, was agreeable. Where his enthusiasm failed, his dedication to maintaining peace within his fortress saw the matter through. Paperwork was drawn up and signed, guards were given their orders, and soon enough, he was standing at the entrance to the Fortress of Meropide, watching on as you blearily stumbled out of the rustic elevator – one of Wriothesley’s more trusted officers to either of your sides. He waved them off quickly. This was a joyous occasion, but a private one. He wanted no more witnesses than there absolutely had to be.

You were a doe-eyed thing; standing in daylight for the first time in more than a year. He’d chosen for an accommodating time of day, opted to schedule your release for the soften hours of a post-sunset twilight, but it seemed any amount of natural light would’ve been enough to render you senseless. It took a long moment for you to find your footing on solid land, another to remember to blink, and yet another for you to notice him. Instantly, he knew any amount of preparation he might’ve done was useless – his scheduling, especially.

Your smile was enough to rival the sun at its brightest.

“Monsieur Ludex!” Still unsteady, you wandered towards him, taking both of his hands into your own. You were tactile, despite your meekness. It wasn’t often Neuvillette was touched so casually. “I—I really can’t thank you enough, and I’m—I’m sorry for the hassle, but the warden, he wouldn’t let me go, and I didn’t know if you had any jurisdiction over the fortress, but Wriothesley wrote to you so often, and—”

“I ought to be the one apologizing.” He kept his tone gentle, even, only a touch warmer than the stunted greetings he’d exchanged with you weeks ago. Despite this, you melted as if addressed by your oldest, closest friend; your shoulders dropping and your eyes glimmering with all the radiance of a rising tide. “The inflation of your sentence was a grave and unforgivable foresight. If you wished to leave Fontaine altogether, I would understand.”

“I… I don’t think that’ll be necessary.” You released his hands, clasping them in front of your waist. Reluctantly, he allowed you to. “Honestly, sir, I’d really just like to go home.”

He couldn’t help but mirror your smile back, albeit not quite as shining. “If that’s so, then the necessary accommodations have already been made.”

With your arm tucked in his, you allowed him to escort you to a waiting carriage (secured as to avoid forcing to travel by sea so quickly after escaping your imprisonment underneath it). The first leg of your journey passed in comfortable silence, your attention rarely leaving the glass-paned window. As you passed through the countryside outside of the Court of Fontaine, you glanced toward him and beamed. “My village isn’t far from here. I don’t suppose you’ve contacted my brother?”

His response was a curt nod, a contemplative hum. “We’ll be arriving shortly.”

As you passed through the city’s gates, your smile dimmed some, taking on a strained undertone. “Is there anything in the city we have to do? I’m afraid I never got the chance to ask the other prisoners about release protocols.”

Once again, his response was brief. “You shouldn’t worry yourself with unnecessary specifics.”

As your carriage came to an ambling stop in front the Palais Mermonia, your smile fell away entirely. “Monsieur Ludex,” you tried once more, your voice now shaking so delectably, it nearly rivaled the sweetness of your scent. “I… I’m afraid I don’t understand what’s going on.”

This time, he made no attempt to answer you sincerely. “Please, call me Neuvillette.” And then, as he stepped out of the carriage and signaled for you to do the same, “Come with me.”

You shrunk into your seat, but even the most skittish creatures knew when to attempt submission rather than escape. Given another second’s worth of patience, you followed him up the palace’s steps and through its vacant halls, its usual attendants sent home in anticipation of your arrival. No part of him expected you to run, but there was a small, paranoid faction of his mind that had anticipated an attempt to distance yourself from him – a passing glance towards possible exits, a widening gap between you and him as you proceeded. Your eyes remained fixed on the floor in front of you, though, and you were never more than an arm’s length from his side. However Wriothesley had treated you, it had apparently not been with much leniency.

Finally, you reached his personal chambers. You paused for the first time as he ushered you through a pair of tall, wooden doors, but the hint of a scowl had you scurrying inside before he could think to flash his teeth. Still, you only made it a step or so into the room before coming to a halt yet again. Neuvillette didn’t have to imagine why. He was unable to dampen his grin as he followed your gaze to the far wall, or rather, to the four-poster bed slotted against it. He’d done the utmost to ensure your comfort, but rationally, he knew it wasn’t the Liyuan silk sheet or the down-stuffed comforter that had you so transfixed, nor the antique grand piano that stood some paces to the left.

No, as far he could tell, your eyes were solely locked onto the sleek, velvet-lined collar sitting on the center of the mattress, connected to the headboard by a thin, silver chain. He couldn’t be surprised that you were in such a state of shock.

Wriothesley had always preferred bronze.

“I suggest you get on the bed,” he started, a hand already moving towards the stiff collar of his suit. “You may undress if you wish, but I won’t force you to. Your cooperation is appreciated, but unnecessary.”

For a moment, you stayed where you were; motionless and quiet, trembling ever so slightly. For a moment, you didn’t do anything at all.

Then, with a quick nod and a sniffle of a sob, you moved towards the bed, as unhappy as you were obedient. It should’ve broken his heart to see you in such a state of distress, but for now, he could tolerate your misery, your scorn. It was only proper that a lover should be kept happy, but a mate’s discomfort could be tolerated.

And Neuvillette already knew you would make a wonderful mate.

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