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distinctlywhumpthing · 18 days ago

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In League – Bath

Masterlist

Late-19th century, indentured servitude, past-noncon implied, power imbalance, carewhumper/sympathetic whumper dynamics. Beta read by @alittlewhump!

August presses himself into the corner.

As far as he can get from the old copper soaking tub Midge filled with hot water, pitcher by pitcher, from the proper one down the hall. Wyatt knew this would be an ordeal and wanted to save August and the rest of the house from it transpiring in the shared washroom.

He already took off his jacket and waistcoat to work at his desk earlier. His sleeves rolled up and held in place by the stays so they wouldn’t get marked by ink. But he finished all the books an hour ago.

Time to get this over with.

August shakes his head as soon as Wyatt meets his eyes.

“It’s all right.” He keeps his distance, pushes the chair a little closer to his desk. Straightens the papers hanging over the edge before looking back at August. “It’s just a bath.”

The younger boy trembles. “P-please, sir—” He’s trying not to cry, swiping at his cheeks with the too-long sleeves of his borrowed shirt, pushing out his chin determinedly. “I’ll wash with the basin and cloth. Please—”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Wyatt says, taking a small step to the side. Even though it puts him no closer to August, the boy cringes at the movement. “The doctor said a proper bath. We’ve already delayed two more days.”

August eyes the tub over Wyatt’s shoulder. He presses his lips together and shakes his head. “Please, sir. I can’t…”

“What would you have me do?” He sighs, raking a hand through his hair. “I’ve already—oh, August. August, lad.”

He cries in earnest now, hiccuping quiet sobs, and gives up wiping the tears away, arms wrapped around his middle instead. Holding himself as though he might fall to pieces. “I-I-I-can’t, I can’t, s-s-sir. I’m sorry—”

Wyatt tries to move closer and August yelps, sticking both hands out, palms forward in defense. With nowhere to go since he’s cornered himself, his sobs only grow more ragged.

He’s no good at calming himself, not when Wyatt’s standing right there and could do it for him. He got by on his own many, many times but it’s different now he’s tasted the very warmth and comfort he spent all that time wanting, craving, needing.

“August—”

“Nnnonono—” Wyatt can’t get near him and he’s swiftly becoming hysterical, hands still outstretched, sobs racking through him so he shakes on the spot. His eyes are glued to the tub, barely even seeing Wyatt except as an extension of the threat.

Wyatt steps aside to sit on the foot of his bed and the crying falters. In truth, he’s closer to August now, just an arm’s reach away, but the footboard between them like an iron fence is enough to lessen the threat.

“C’mere. Come sit with me.” He holds out his hand and waits, doesn’t need to push. Bullying will only make August more desperate and wild. Patience finds the path of least resistance. He’s done it enough times, earned the trust of all the others, one by one, inch by inch.

It takes another moment and then August’s cool fingers grasp his. He lets himself be reeled in to stand in front of Wyatt. His face is all ruddy, cheeks wet enough that Wyatt can’t catch sight of the new tears once they fall from his lower lashes.

“All’s right, lad. All will be right,” Wyatt pulls him into his lap, settling the waif of a boy on one thigh. He couldn’t—nor would he ever—do this with any of the others but this one seems to find himself the exception in a steadily rising number of situations.

August is shaking, eyes unfocused like he has nothing to see now that he can’t watch the tub. He gasps and hiccups, trying to stop himself crying.

“You must breathe, lamb. Evenly, in and out.” Wyatt places a hand on the center of his chest. “Come now or you’ll faint,” he chides.

He manages a shaky exhale.

“That’s it.” Wyatt pushes some of the matted waves off his forehead. How might he react to the suggestion of a haircut to keep the hair from falling into his eyes so much? He tucks another tangled lock behind August’s ear and leaves his hand there, thumb stroking his temple. “There you go, in and out.”

As soon as he recovers his breath, he starts apologising, gripping Wyatt’s forearm with both hands. “I’m sorry, sir. Please forgive me. I’m so sorry, I—”

“Hush. Hush, now.” He pulls his handkerchief out of his pocket. “Dry your tears. All’s right.”

August obeys, sniffling. His hands fall to his lap, twisting the square of fabric around one fingertip, avoiding Wyatt’s gaze. Uncertain what to do with himself when he isn’t permitted to grovel.

Wyatt lifts his chin with a crooked finger and thumb. “The most favourable course is if you go willingly. For both our sakes.”

He only blinks at him with those wide, shining eyes. All the fight gone.

“I’d much rather be proud of you than have to force you.” August bites his lip, like he’s thinking it over but Wyatt knows he found an in. The boy is as hungry for praise as he is for a gentle touch. “I believe you can manage it.”

August flushes, even more swayed by the slightest confidence in his capabilities. “Yes, sir.”

His next task will be coaxing August to drop the loathsome honorifics.

“Come on. There’s a good lad.” He keeps an arm around August to lead him to the tub, which he hopes is holding its heat beside the fire.

August goes rigid as soon as Wyatt steps forward, digging in his heels until his stocking feet slide on the hardwood. But he doesn’t twist away. He lets himself be pulled, trembling but with his mouth set in a determined line. At the edge of the carpet, he trips into Wyatt and stays there, pressing against his side, as he finally looks into the water. It’s milky white from the soap, little bubbles resting among the foam on the surface.

Wyatt takes one of his hands and, with a gentle tug, lowers their entwined fingers to the water. August gasps and Wyatt lets him pull both of their hands away. “Sir, it’s warm.”

“So it is.”

“But…” He looks back and forth to the tub, brow furrowed.

“Certainly you’ve had a hot bath before.”

He shakes his head.

“I would have thought a house like Elmwood had all the latest fittings even in the servant’s washroom.”

“Of course, sir.” He drops his eyes, gaze circling the oval edge of the tub. His grip on Wyatt’s hand tightens subtly before relaxing again.“But I didn’t wish to take it from anyone else or be greedy.”

He can picture young August never asking for a second helping, taking cold baths. Quietly and diligently going about his work, constantly in fear of losing his place. Only to wind up with Keats. He had a reputation for being ruthless. How that might devolve when he had absolute power over someone, Wyatt didn’t like to imagine. August already demonstrated enough of its consequences to paint an abhorrent picture.

Wyatt wishes to tell him he’s finally found a place he doesn’t have to earn, where he’ll be safe. Where he can stay as long as he chooses. Same as all the others, each needing it desperately in one way or another. He’d never be able to hear it now.

He squeezes the younger boy’s shoulder. “You’re too good for your own good, lad.” August’s still too fixated on the looming task to give Wyatt more than an obedient hum of agreement. They had better get on before he abandons his stoic determination.

August seems to lose himself as he undresses, movements slowing the further he gets. Wyatt assures him he can leave on his drawers but he only nods numbly, crossing his shaking arms over his bare torso.

“Look at me.” He ducks his head to catch August’s eyes. “I’ll not hurt you, I mean to keep that promise.”

“I—” He bites his lip and nods.

“All right?”

The boy dips his head again.

“Shall I help you?”

He nods, though Wyatt wonders how much of that is just a reflex. He lifts him under the arms gently to lower him—

August cries out before he even touches water, twisting and flailing until his hands and feet find purchase. Wyatt bears the assault, afraid of causing injury if he simply drops him like a stone, until August eventually manages to wrap himself around him.

It takes a moment to find his voice. “Are you quite finished?”

They must look a sight. August clings to him so tightly, he doesn't need to be held, leaving Wyatt’s arms free to hold away from his sides if only to reduce their contact by some modicum. After all the prior upsets, he doesn’t give a damn about having Wyatt between his legs at this moment.

August buries his face in Wyatt’s neck. “I’m s-sorry—I don’t—I’m sorry,” he whispers breathlessly. Wyatt feels his tears beginning to dampen the points of contact between their skin.

He lies a hand on August’s bare back, rubbing circles once the boy stops holding his breath like he’s expecting a blow. “Need I remind you how capable you are of facing this?” He can feel August’s heart hammering against his chest so he keeps his voice low. “I’ve witnessed you staring down a whole room, with your hands tied no less.” He holds August under one thigh and reaches behind his back to uncross the opposite foot. “I was impressed by the fight in you, the fire in your eyes.”

August lets him straighten the leg and ease it into the water. He tightens his arms around Wyatt’s neck and stops breathing but doesn't struggle. Wyatt follows suit with the next so August is more or less standing in the tub.

“I know you to be brave...”

August yelps when his wounded hip meets the water, panting against Wyatt’s neck, arms still like iron to keep himself there. Wyatt doesn’t stop until he’s up to his chest in the water, following to kneel beside him on the canvas sheet Midge laid to protect the carpet.

“As brave as any of those wolves downstairs. Maybe you’re not a lamb after all…” August huffs against his neck and Wyatt smiles. He dips a cloth into the soapy water and runs it across August’s back, eliciting a shiver.

Wyatt washes most of what he can reach with the younger boy still clinging to him before August lifts his head. He straightens slowly, as though a sudden movement might change everything. His face is flushed and his hands shake fiercely when he releases them from behind Wyatt’s neck. He doesn’t seem to know what to do with them, fears touching the very water he sits in.

“All right. All’s right.” Wyatt cups the side of his face as his breath starts to quicken. “Just look at me, August. There you go, that’s it.” He presses the cloth into one of August’s hands, closing his fingers around it for him. “Come now, you’ve done this before.”

He bites his lips together as he submerges his hand while the other still hovers, trembling above the water. Wyatt catches his fingers and brings them to rest on the edge of the tub. August grips it immediately, knuckles turning white.

“You already smell like a rose,” Wyatt tells him, wiping a smudge off the side of his neck.

August huffs again, flushing even redder than he already is in the warm bath. He doubles down on biting his lip in a way that makes Wyatt wonder if it might be to hide a smile. A prize for another time.

“All that’s left is your hair.”

His Adam’s apple dips as he swallows.

“You can hold onto me and lean your head back.” When August only blinks at him, he adds, “unless you want to go under.”

He shakes his head, expression crumpling at the mere mention. “Please—”

“You’re all right.” Wyatt steels himself and takes both of his hands, bringing them back to his shoulders. “Just hold onto me.” As expected, August does so in a way that would make it nearly impossible for Wyatt not to submerge himself as well as August if that was what he intended. They’re nose to nose, again in contest with the intimacy August fears above all else. Excepting a bath, Wyatt is learning.

He has to bend over the tub to manage the angle. August hangs on his neck, alternately searching his eyes as though he might see the threat before it happens, and avoiding them completely like he doesn’t want to.

August gasps when the back of his head meets the water.

“It’s all right, you’re doing well.”

His eyelids flutter as Wyatt rubs at his scalp under the water. When Wyatt lifts him out and adds more soap, working it into a silky lather, August lets his eyes fall shut completely. As Wyatt's fingers card slowly but surely through the tangles, the knot of the boy’s arms around his neck loosens as well. By the time Wyatt tips him back to rinse the suds, it seems some of his unease has washed away too.

Next...

@whumpy-writings @deluxewhump @no-whump-on-main @maracujatangerine @painsandconfusion

@wolfeyedwitch @briars7 @gala1981 @redwingedwhump @whumpflash

@poeticagony-blog @annablogsposts @fleur-alise @melancholy-in-the-morning @crystalquartzwhump

@magziemakeswhatever @neverthelass @cakeinthevoid @inkstainsonmyhands12 @morning-star-whump

@writereleaserepeat

#carewhumper #gaslighting #indentured servitude #slave whump #dubcon bathing #dubious caretaker #sympathetic whumper #trust building #historical whump #partial nudity cw #implied past noncon cw #aquaphobia cw #Wyatt pretending nothing is amiss after completely bailing when August was sick #August doesn't really remember tho #probably there's a little interim piece here that's even more awkward #obviously there is a part two #(:

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brutal-nemesis · 2 years ago

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E&T: Looking Towards the Horizon

It’s a-me Crisp Rat-Anyway hi yes this is real it is here sorry it took *checks watch* over a year 🤪 what can ya do. But it’s a chunky one so hooray 2nd longest chapter to date i hope it makes up for the wait a little bit (°ー°〃) have fun kids

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Ingredients: bones breaking, including a compound fracture, a little bit of gore but it’s rather vague, the usual noncon body mod being a thing that exists and those dubcon touching vibes, implied perceived threat of noncon kiss that is in fact not that, mention of butchering

Erebus didn’t think he’d ever been so hot in his life.

He’d suffered through the humid heat of the rainy seasons at home, preferring the hot dry season that came before. But now, with the late-afternoon sun’s rays beating down on him from above and the heat radiating off of the black sand below, he found himself missing the muggy humidity and torrential rains. He couldn’t believe Neteri expected him to fly out here in the desert, but it was the next logical step now that he’d built up more than enough strength to walk properly again.

He shot a glance at Neteri, who was wiping her presumably sweaty hands on the sides of her coat. She returned his look with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I know it’s hot out here. Pretty, though.” They both gazed out over the black dunes of the Greikala Naman Desert, the towering cliffs behind them stretching out to either side, remnants of an old mine cutting into the rock face to their left.

“Still, not why we’re here. I just thought it’d be a great place for you to learn how to fly since the sand should help soften the impact in case you fall, and no one’s around to see so we won’t have to deal with people asking questions or you getting too self-conscious-”

“I’m not that self-conscious-”

“Hold these.” Neteri had taken off her glasses and was now holding them out to Erebus. He took them, confused as he watched her bury her face in her hands and take a deep breath. “You’re so self-conscious, Erebus,” she mumbled into her hands before lifting her face and replacing her glasses. “You’re like the most self-conscious guy I’ve ever met, okay?” She shook her head. “Seriously. You can be so dense sometimes.” Erebus opened his mouth to argue, but…no, she was probably right, wasn’t she? He couldn’t help it; he’d lived in an environment where people’s opinions and perceptions of him mattered a lot for the vast majority of his life.

He cleared his throat. “Anyway, um…am I just going to start trying to fly now?”

“Yup.”

“Okay…so, do I just, um,” Erebus flapped his wings hesitantly, “do that?”

Neteri shrugged. “Probably? It’s not like I’ve ever flown before. Really, I don’t think any other human has, especially not like this, so…you’re kind of on your own here.”

Erebus felt his face flush slightly. “Right.” He turned away, looking out over the vast expanse of dark sand. He-he shouldn’t be nervous about messing this up in front of Neteri, since she’d said it herself that no one had ever really done this before, but he still found himself proving her point about him being self-conscious to be spot on. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. Don’t think about Neteri. Just focus.

Slowly, Erebus started to flap his wings, shifting them as he did in order to find the best angle, the one that fought against gravity the most. He couldn’t really explain it, but he just knew when he found it, something in the way the air pushed against the wing membranes feeling right. Neteri was probably taking-no, no, don’t think about Neteri, just focus. Focus on his wings, on adjusting them bit by bit, getting them in just the right-

“Woah!” Erebus’s feet left the ground for just a moment, but due to the shock of it he forgot to keep flapping his wings and fell back to the ground, stumbling and falling down onto his back. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from smiling. “Did you see that, Neteri? I-I was-I was in the air!”

Neteri smiled back, extending a hand to help him up. “I saw! I’m sure you’ll do even better next time.” He took her hand and stood, some part of him…excited to try again, to possibly succeed, to actually fly. Once she’d backed up enough, he tried again, able to find the correct angle faster than last time. Soon enough he was in the air again, actually staying in the air, rising higher bit by bit, but…how was he supposed to go forward? Maybe by moving his wings like-nope, down into the sand he went. It did help cushion his fall, just like Neteri said it would, so he was ready to try again right away.

Over and over, higher and higher, faster and farther, his take-offs getting smoother and his landings resulting in less scrapes and falls, and he was doing it, actually flying. He was rather clumsy still, but he ignored the burning in his muscles and lungs and kept trying. The feeling of freedom, of actual control over something was far too intoxicating for him to do anything but reach for it again and again.

But when he ended up falling gracelessly into the sand, his head spinning and breathing short, he realized he may have been pushing himself a bit too hard. Attempts at sitting up were met with waves of dizziness too strong for him to overcome.

“Hey, are you alright, Erebus?” Neteri knelt by his side, turning him onto his back as she felt his forehead. “You’ve been using a lot of magic to help you fly, huh? I was trying to keep an eye on your condition, but you were taking off again so quickly that I figured you were alright. Sorry about that. Here, let me give you some of my magic power.” She removed her glasses and took his hand, pulling him slightly. “Sit up, Erebus.” Shakily, he did so, his ears ringing as the world spun around him. But Neteri, she, she was moving towards him, moving her face towards his, like she was going to-

Erebus collapsed backwards onto the sand, resisting the urge to scramble away as she looked down at him in concern. “I’m sure you’re dizzy, Erebus, but I promise you’ll feel better if you let me do this, and, well…it’ll be less awkward if you’re sitting up for it, yeah?”

He desperately shook his head. “I-if that’s-that’s what’s going to-to-I don’t want it so-so please just-”

Neteri cocked her head. “What do you-” A look of understanding, and slight horror, dawned on her face. “Oh, no, no, no, Erebus, I wasn’t going to-that’s not how we-” She sighed. “I suppose I shouldn’t have expected you to be familiar with how magic power is shared between wizards, seeing as you aren’t one yourself. Here, sit up, I promise it’s nothing like that.” Feeling he didn’t have much choice but to trust her, Erebus sat up once more, resisting the urge to flinch back as she leaned towards him, eventually just squeezing his eyes shut.

He felt her forehead and nose press against his, but that was where the contact ended. “It’s alright, Erebus, this is it. Just breathe deep, in and out. When we share magic, we do it by sharing breath like this.” Erebus felt a puff of air on his cheek as she laughed a little. “It’s always a little awkward the first few times you do it, but after a while it’s just as normal as shaking hands.”

“Huh.” It was a little awkward, but he was sort of used to Neteri touching him however and wherever she wanted that he was mostly numb to it all by now. Well, not numb but…he was okay with it. “Why…why is it done like this?”

“Because sharing breath is sharing life, and magic is life. Well, I mean, magic isn’t what makes us alive, but, like…magic power comes from your life force. The bond between your body and soul. That’s why you get weak and start bleeding if you use too much magic power, because the bond grows weaker, and…you’re closer to death. The bond grows stronger again over time, obviously, or else all wizards would die pretty young.” She laughed a little. “But…if you use too much all at once, it can kill you. Like, there are some spells that one person can’t do alone because they require so much energy that it would kill the caster. Not to mention that some require different elements of magic working together, but that doesn’t have anything to do with the amount of energy needed.” There was silence for a few moments. “Sorry for just dumping all of that on you-”

“No, it’s okay, I asked.” It felt weird having a conversation with their faces together like this, but Erebus wasn’t about to lean away since it did seem to be working. And…maybe talking was better than just sitting like this in silence. “It’s weird how little I really know about magic. I mean, I know a lot of what it’s capable of, but…I never really knew just how it worked or anything.”

“Well, it’s not like you’d need to know it to run a kingdom, right? You can’t use it yourself, so it’s not really something you’d have needed to know. But, for me, things you don’t need to know are the most fun to learn about, ‘cause then it’s all about learning for the sake of it.” She shifted slightly, her breath coming out differently for a moment, like maybe she was smiling now. “Curiosity is a wonderful thing, really. We’ve made so many advancements because of it, and, really, it’s why I’m doing what I’m doing now.”

Erebus sat back against his better judgment, gulping as he opened his eyes to look at Neteri. “I-is that why you did all of this to me? Because you were curious?”

“No, I-” Neteri sighed, closing her eyes and shaking her head as if to clear it before putting her glasses back on. “That came out wrong. I was curious about demon anatomy in the beginning, and after so much study it led to-” She looked up at the sky, blue starting to fade into orange. “Look, why don’t you practice flying some more before it gets dark. You’ve got your strength back now, right? Just don’t go too far. And after that we can eat and…I can tell you why I’m doing this.”

Erebus stood, steady on his feet once more, and brushed the sand off of himself. “Fine.” He wanted to stay put, to protest, to not let the chance of finally learning the reason for all of this disappear, but Neteri sounded sincere enough, and he doubted standing his ground would result in him actually getting what he wanted. He’d waited all this time, so he could wait for a few more hours.

Besides, he wanted to try and fly again.

After a couple more attempts, he felt like he was really starting to get it, figuring out how to best move his wings and body in each different scenario. He was nowhere near feeling like he’d mastered it, but as far as the basics went, he was feeling pretty confident. For this next flight, he wanted to try and go high enough that Neteri’d look like a little white dot on the black sands below.

As he rose up, he felt himself starting to get tired again, but upon looking down and seeing how much further up he’d have to go, he kept pushing. Going straight up was difficult, and he’d been finding it much easier to rise at an angle, sort of gliding, but he’d never tried going this high before. Neteri was getting pretty small below him, much smaller than normal, so maybe he’d stop here for now. He waved down at her, not sure how well she could even see him, before looking out over the vast desert stretching out before him, the sky above now stained with shades of orange and pink, making the dark sands below seem to sparkle. A feeling of joy welled up inside him, and he couldn’t help but laugh, the world around him so open, calling him to come explore, because he really could go anywhere now, and he couldn’t resist swooping towards the horizon, to fly as far as his wings could take him, to-

There was a harsh tug at the collar around his neck, and everything spun out of control.

Erebus began to plummet towards the ground as he choked, trying to get air flowing through his throbbing throat, flapping his wings desperately, trying to right himself befo-

Reality hit him, and it hit him hard.

Sand sprayed through the air as he hit the ground, grains taking his place in the sky before falling back down on him like rain. His arms were scraped and bleeding, little pockets of sand collected under the skin, but that stinging was hardly anything compared to the sharp pain in his legs. His lower left leg was roaring in agony, and his right ankle felt like it’d been stabbed through with a nail. Through the ringing in his ears, he could hear Neteri running over to him, shouting his name. He pushed himself upright slightly before looking down at his legs, hoping it felt worse than it looked.

All it took was the sight of white bone poking out of his torn pant leg for the world to go dark.

~~~

Consciousness pulled Erebus to the surface all of a sudden, mercilessly dragging him back into his body. He jerked awake, crying out slightly as the pain in his legs returned full force. Neteri stood over him, and he was lying on his back in...the old barracks of the mine, on one of the bedrolls they’d laid out on the cots in here before going back outside so he could practice. She gave him a reassuring smile.

“Hey, Erebus, just breathe, it’s alright. You had quite the fall, and…not the best landing. Thankfully I know a spell that makes things lighter temporarily, so I was able to carry you here without much issue.” Erebus started to sit up, wanting to check the state of his leg, but Neteri pushed him back down. “No, no, I just finished cleaning the wound, Erebus, but I haven’t had the chance to heal you yet, and based on how you reacted to seeing it earlier…”

Erebus sighed in defeat and laid back down. “H…how serious is it?”

“It’s going to take a lot out of me, but…I should be able to fix it. Most of it, anyway. You’re lucky that your t-no, you don’t know what bones are called, do you-your smaller leg bone? That’s the only one that completely fractured in half and broke through skin. Your…thicker leg bone is cracked, but not completely broken, which is good. The ankle on your other leg is also kind of messed up, but that I should be able to fix pretty easily.”

Erebus’s stomach sank as she kept talking, adding to the list of things she’s going to need to fix, the number of painful procedures that he’s going to have to sit through. “O-okay.” He gulped. Neteri didn’t seem mad at him, but…“I’m sorry I flew so far, I…I just got caught up in the feeling and I wanted to-”

“No, it’s alright, Erebus, I’m not upset with you. I told you not to go far, but I probably should have told you what would happen if you did. I have this ring, see, and when I wear it, it’ll pull your collar back towards me if you get too far away, and…I just didn’t think you’d be able to go that far so quickly so I figured it wouldn’t be an issue, but…I’m sorry.” She looked away as she apologized, but soon turned back to face him. “But everything will work out. I’ll get you fixed up and hopefully you’ll be able to try flying again tomorrow.”

The apology was a bit of a surprise, but Erebus wasn’t complaining. “So flying too far away from you so fast is what ended up making me…” Neteri nodded, and Erebus couldn’t help but sigh. He’d felt so free in that moment, but, really, he’d just been like a bird in a cage. One that flew straight into the bars. He couldn’t believe he’d deluded himself into thinking that he could actually fly away from all of this, even for a little bit. Just look where it got him.

Neteri gave him something to bite on and asked him to be still, and all he could do was comply and endure as she fixed the damage his naivety had caused. She started with the most serious injury, the bone sticking out of his torn leg, and he was already fighting back screams as she carefully worked the bone back into its proper place, but he knew it was only going to get worse. Memories of the surgery on his arm came flooding back, of the awful, fiery needles that stabbed through his bone as she worked her magic, and soon enough that same sensation returned full force, a dazzling array of stabbing pains surging up the entire length of his leg, paired with the sickening feeling of Neteri’s gloved hands probing around inside the wound, holding things in place as she lit them on fire, rearranging twisted muscle fibers and reconnecting ripped blood vessels.

At least, some of them.

Her hand left the wound behind, the pain telling him it was not fully healed yet. He shot her a watery-eyed look, and she smiled at him weakly. “I’m just going to fix your ankle up first. I had to use a lot more magic power than I thought I would just to get your leg bones fixed, so sit tight.” He swallowed and nodded, as if there was any other choice. The type and intensity of the pain in his ankle was much the same as it healed, and at one point Neteri had to hold his foot still so it stopped twitching in pain so much, despite his best efforts to keep it from doing so. At least he wasn’t tied down, able to grip the sides of the bedroll or wipe the tears from his eyes as he pleased. It wasn’t much to be grateful for, but he’d come to appreciate the smaller things.

Once she was done, Neteri practically collapsed to the ground, resting her arms on the side of the cot. Blood was steadily dripping from her nose, which she didn’t seem to register for a couple of seconds. After hastily shoving her handkerchief up her nostril, she sighed. “I fixed all of your broken bones, and I stopped the bleeding in your leg. I still have to…have to finish healing some of your muscles and close the skin back up but I…I just need a break.”

Erebus couldn’t help but stare, now realizing what it meant when Neteri was wiped out from using her magic. “So you…you’re closer to dying right now? Because you used all of that magic power, your life force, to…to heal me. You…you put your life on the line to do this to me, Neteri, so why…?”

“Because I wanted to help people, can you believe that?” She laughed at the notion, her lack of lucidity almost making her seem more aware than ever. “I always thought anatomy was interesting, from the first time I saw my father butcher an animal as a girl.” She steadily crawled her way over to her bag, pulling off her bloodied gloves before rummaging through it. “I studied human anatomy, and then demon anatomy. I wanted to study dragons, too, but it’s basically impossible to get your hands on a cadaver, especially legally. So I studied humans and demons, demons and humans, and I got to thinking, what if demons didn’t come from dragons like we always supposed? What if they were humans to start? What if we’re similar enough to-” dropping the small package she’d pulled out of her bag, she laced her fingers together, “to become one?”

The silence that followed was impossibly loud, and Erebus ended up breaking it before he’d even fully processed what she said. “One like-like me?”

Neteri smiled dreamily, some of the jerky they’d brought along now clutched in her hand, the other wrapped around a familiar crystal. “Yes and no. What I really wanted to do was organs.” Her face fell, took on a coldness he’d rarely ever seen. “So many people need new organs. New limbs, even. We can only take so much from willing, healthy people. But demons,” she smiled, “demons can be butchered all we like. So I wanted to test my theory. Replace human organs with demon ones, see if they take. My proposal was accepted, but only if I made certain revisions.”

Erebus could see in her face that she was coming back to herself, realizing everything she’d just said, realizing she couldn’t stop now that she’d started. And she’d promised to tell him, hadn’t she? “It had to be all on one person. Someone disposable. Seven surgeries, one part from each kind of demon. Things more tied to their innate magic. And that all was just to be phase one.” Her tone indicated that she didn’t plan on speaking any further.

Someone…disposable. The phrase had made Erebus’s throat tighten. At the end of the day, that was him, wasn’t it? A prisoner of the Empire, branded as property and sentenced to live out the rest of his days in chains. His life could be thrown away without a second thought. But even worse than that…“Phase…phase one? What…what’s phase two, then?” Try as he might, he couldn’t imagine something worse than what he’d been through, so…maybe it wouldn’t be as bad.

“It’s…it’s the fate I want to save you from.”

“What?” Neteri was looking at him, determination in her eyes, and for a moment he wasn’t sure if her “saving” him was a good thing or not.

“At the beginning I thought this part would be easy. That my subject would deserve to…” she looked away, swallowing, “but you don’t. You didn’t deserve any of this to begin with, and I was too focused on my goals to see it.” She laughed hollowly before turning back to him. “I don’t want to freak you out, so…I’m not going to tell you what phase two is just yet. I promise I will eventually, once you’re out of danger. I just…don’t want anything to go wrong, and if you know what might happen if we fail…I just don’t want it to keep you up at night.”

“I can-okay.” What use was it arguing? Neteri was standing up now, putting her gloves back on, ready to get back to fixing him up, and this conversation was over. He laid back and tried to relax, but this was all a lot to process.

“Actually, Erebus…healing all this combined with the magic power I lent you earlier…I don’t know if I have enough energy to fix your leg and...do the other thing I need to do.”

“Which is…?”

She gave him a tired smile, leaning in close, her voice almost a whisper. “I’m going to remove the tracking magic from your brand.”

Erebus’s eyes went wide. “You…you’re serious?!” When she said she wanted to save him…he didn’t know what exactly he’d been expecting, but was she actually going to let him go? Was-was he really going to be free?

“Dead serious.” She straightened up. “I’m not going to get rid of it entirely, just transfer it to a crystal that you’ll keep with you until the time is right. It’s actually the main reason why I brought you all the way out here. Because I really am going to get you out of here.” A genuine smile spread across Erebus’s face at her words, as much as he was afraid that this was some sort of trick. But Neteri had always been honest with him. She’d hidden things from him, sure, but never outright lied, at least that he was aware of. “Thank…thank you, Neteri. Really, I-”

She shook her head. “It’s the least I can do. And I’ll do more to help you, I promise. But for now…is it okay if I save my energy for the brand and take care of this wound the non-magic way?”

“Yeah, that’s alright,” Erebus agreed, even though he suspected this meant he was getting stitches.

He was completely correct, but the gash in his leg wasn’t too long, so soon enough she’d tied the thread and bandaged his leg up neatly. She healed the scrapes on his arms, at least, since they were so minor that the amount of magic she used doing it was negligible, but the process of her cleaning the sand out of them first was far more painful than it had any right to be. Once that was done, they ate the portion of dried food they’d reserved for dinner, Erebus mostly making small talk while he thought through everything Neteri had said, hoping she was truly going to make good on her promises.

He’d never been happier to hear her ask him to take off his shirt and lie down.

After he undid the knots of the special shirt she’d made to accommodate his wings, he nervously laid back, excited for what lay on the other side of the pain for once. Neteri told him that it would hurt, that it might be like being branded all over again, but he could handle it if it meant he was really going to be free.

He could handle it, right?

The burning was exactly like it was the first time, and before he knew it he was crying, biting back screams as Neteri slowly slid the crystal over his brand, igniting white-hot pain as it went, and suddenly he was right back up on that stage, rough wood pressing into the wounds on his back, all of his people watching, the collar tight around his neck, heavy chains on his wrists, the taste of blood thick in his mouth despite his missing tongue, the smell of burning flesh suffocating him, the Emperor’s almost bored expression as he pressed the hot metal to his chest, the sky above unfairly blue, unbearable heat overtaking him in waves don’t ever forget that you’re property now you’ll never be free you’ll never amount to anything more than a twisted science project everything you’ve studied and worked for means nothing and all you can do is watch as your very humanity is ripped away and torn to shreds and nothing will save-

“Erebus.”

Erebus tensed up, suddenly finding himself back in the present, Neteri looking down at him with concern. A rag was shoved up her bleeding nose again, but she gave him a weak smile as she wiped away some of his tears. “It’s over. I’m sorry it hurt so much, but it’s over.” She squeezed his hand, holding out the black crystal she’d bound the tracking spell to with her other one. He nodded and took it, numbly worming it into his pocket as he tried to crawl out of his daze. “Let’s go to sleep, then,” Neteri said as she started to pull her hand away.

“Wait-” Erebus sniffed, holding tightly onto her hand. “Please, could you…?” He still didn’t want to say it outright, but he hoped she’d get the message, and he couldn’t help but smile when she gave his hand a squeeze.

“Alright. But let me get ready for bed first, okay?”

“Okay.”

She got ready quickly enough, even giving him something to help with the pain in his leg since she wasn’t going to be using magic on it anytime soon. Once that was done, she sat on the edge of the bed, holding out her arms and letting him bury himself in her stomach, causing her to laugh a little. “Would it be easier if I laid down? I mean, I have my own bed, but…I think I’m about ready to fall over.”

“T-that’s fine!” Erebus sat up quickly, scooting over to make room. He hadn’t been expecting this, but after what happened with his brand, he wasn’t complaining. Once Neteri had laid down, he cuddled up next to her, her arms around him so comforting. Before he knew it the tears he’d been holding back started to flow again, the horrible memories of that day still at the forefront of his mind. He’d mostly buried it under all the awful things he’d experienced since, but now it was all he could think about. Neteri mostly stayed silent, her hand stroking his hair and rubbing the base of one of his horns. After he’d started to calm down, she spoke up.

“You know, I’d never thought I’d lay like this with a guy.”

“Oh, I, uh-sorry, do you not want to-”

“No, no, it’s okay! I didn’t mean it like I don’t want to or anything, it’s just…weird? No…unexpected? Yeah. I never would’ve thought I’d do this, you know? Like if you told me ten years ago I’d be cuddling with a boy someday I would’ve laughed at you, you know?”

“Well, if you told me at the start of all this that I’d want to do this with you I would’ve…I would have been…” He sat bolt upright, trapped between her and the wall. “This isn’t…maybe I shouldn’t do this or even want this I-”

“Erebus.” Neteri took his hand, holding it firmly as she sat up slightly. “It’s okay to want comfort from me. After everything you’ve…no, after everything I’ve put you through, it’s only natural to want to be comforted, to need it, really, and, well… it’s not like you have anyone else to turn to. And I want to make it up to you, so, please, if you want to…it’s okay.” She smiled. “It’s not like anyone will know, anyway, if that makes you feel better.”

“But what if they did know, what if they all found out that I’m-they’d think I’m pathe-”

“You’re not a prince anymore, Erebus.” He stiffened like he’d just been slapped, jaw falling open slightly before he finally turned to look down at Neteri, his eyes wide. “You don’t have to worry so much about what everyone thinks of you. You’re not setting an example for anyone, you’re not expected to be a leader, you’re allowed to be vulnerable now, to want things without worrying about how you’ll be judged for it, to just be…you.” She sat up fully, still holding his hand. “So if you want this, Erebus, it’s okay. Really.”

“I…am I ever going to see any of them again, Neteri?” he asked as his shoulders sagged in defeat.

She gave him a tired smile. “I don’t see why not. After we get away I can get you all fixed up, and…maybe you’ll be able to go home. Just as long as you keep it on the down low, it should be okay.”

Erebus smiled wide. “Okay. Thank you, Neteri. We can go to sleep now.”

“Alright.” She nodded sleepily, her eyes unfocused without her glasses on. She glanced over at her cot and bedroll before lying down and closing her eyes. Erebus hummed happily as he laid on her chest once more, his horn resting on top of her shoulder. As exhausting as today had been, he was almost too excited to sleep. The prospect of actually being free was…exhilarating.

Honestly, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt hope like this. For so long he’d been resigned to this life, the fate he’d been dealt, because he’d come to accept that escaping on his own was impossible and no one who’d cared about him would be able to save him.

For the first time in a long time, he let himself think about his friends back home, all the people he’d known and loved, of Lythia, and he remembered how they’d tried to save him. That…that was the last time he’d felt hope, the day he was whipped and branded and had his tongue cut off. Lythia had told him he was going to be rescued, and he’d believed wholeheartedly that he would be. And here he was again, being told he was going to be saved, and believing that everything was going to work out in the end.

Last time he’d had hope like this, it had been destroyed right before his eyes.

Would this time be any different?

Tags: @dramaticcollapse @thehopelessopus @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @galaxywhump @as-a-matter-of-whump @mnmlover2002 @tears-and-lilies @yet-another-heathen @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @starnight-whump @unicornscotty @thebewilderer @kixngiggles @itallstartedwithharry @inky-whump @redstainedsocks @lonesome--hunter @his-unspoken-words @susiequaz12 @its-mysweetlittlesecret-blog @whumpasaurus101 @patheticlittleguy @jadeocean46910 @whumpinggrounds @pumpkin-spice-whump @suspicious-whumping-egg @befuddled-calico-whump @whump-in-the-closet

#i wrote something #erebus & terror #erebus #neteri #broken bones #minor gore #partial nudity #dubcon touching #magical healing #magical exhaustion #whump #whump writing #what do i even say down here uh #life updates how about that it's been awhile #i have a boyfriend now ❤❤❤❤ he is very good and he's a GAMER #octopath traveler II did indeed consume my whole life for the better part of a month i have like 130 hours in it or something #and im still playing it some #oh i got into the ace attorney games a while back been playing them with the irls #as for e&t things...the usual 'this chapter turned out longer than i thought it would'#but i did add some shit that wasnt in the og plan #like erebus was just supposed to get a normal broken leg but when i was writing i was like nah a little gore 💅 for me #sorry if the fact that i havent written this in ages is super apparent i hope it's not like jarring #the way magic power is shared is based on the traditional māori greeting cuz i really liked the idea of sharing the breath of life #mmmm yes eat all that worldbuilding and lore everyone snack up!!!!#neteri motivation and character arc real!!!#erebus flying real!!!#and fun fact if you remember the fucking tiny erebus au thing the collar yoinking him back thing was in that it was foretold #we'll have to see when the fuck i get the next chapter out because oh boy. it's gonna be a whole thing #we'll just uh. have to see how this pans out. won't we :) because i wouldn't do the same thing twice (❁´◡`❁) i would never

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lousyfuckingratboy · 1 year ago

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To understand how much Saltburn enthralled, belittled and maimed me. You have to understand that im a 5'5 awkward little freak who either looks like a goopy bull terrier or a vaguely angelic burgeoning sex symbol depending on hair and lighting. And my sexual charisma has extremes of both 'toothless lingering people pleaser who would follow a pitifully out of league crush around like a sad dog if he was peppering me with enough soft and knowing smiles' and 'odd, erotically intense sexually frustrated byronian soft dom pervert with a non phallic oral fixation' So, 70% of the movie made me ache in a kind of gleefully giddy dismay of self recognition. But! I also have no dick, avarice or machiavellian streak, so the last 30% really alienated and jarred me.

Idk ☆☆☆.5 I will probably watch it again (and maybe again and again and again)

#Saltburn #Aside from all the full frontal nudity barry keoghan always brings insane t boy swag. Or at least Me boy swag...#Also i hated the twists at the end so much it was so bad and over the top it had to be non literal or something?? I need to watch it again #Look imo #the bath #period oral & frienemy dubcon hj scenes were hot as hell. Everything from the grave scene on though was out of body awkward

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alessiamalfoyzabini · 3 months ago

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Howl at Midnight

Pairing | werewolf!Jimin x human!Reader

Word Count | 7.5k

Warnings | +18, angst, smut, halloween theme, an apparently abandoned castle (don't trespass on other people's property 🤧), mentions of a pact made with the city's residents, poison, MC doesn't really have much choice 💀, forced nudity, dark themes and also yandere (?), underneath MC finds the situation exciting, bites and marks, sink the canines and drink blood, PWP, oral sex, pussy worship, dubcon, begging, virginity loss, unprotected sex (use protection!), vaginal sex, big dick, knotting, MC abandons herself to her fate (I think Jimin's supernatural nature contributes in MC's choices), eat cum, this is not for minors.

This fanfiction is dark and yandere, if you don't like the genre, don't read and if you are not of age, don't read.

I don't want to hear any complaints in the comments, thank you.

This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.

Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.

⤷ Summary | You always thought you lived in a quiet, small town. You never imagined that the locals would be able to keep such a secret for centuries, you fell into their trap… But it doesn't seem so bad.

➢ Author's Note | Hi, guys!!! 🥹

My best friend and I challenged each other to write a Halloween-themed story using the following keywords: werewolf - halloween - virginity - castle - poison.

I don't know why I came up with such a story, it was supposed to be something simple but my dark side took over WAY too much 💀

Anyway my best friend liked the story and suggested that I publish it, so here it is, I already apologize for any mistakes and for the plot which is not who knows what 🥺

Howl at Midnight was written for recreation, but I still hope you enjoy it ❤️

PS: I really didn't know how to classify this story, when in doubt I put the warning “yandere,” since there are behaviors that go a little beyond 😵‍💫

Permanent Taglist | @katherine-kookie, @btsuga-d, @reallygenerouskoala, @takemeaway5402, @velvet-stardust2002, @jimincrystal, @ke1k029, @kylafox09, @pantara, @themwordsblog, @angelicsmilesworld

It's a rather dark night, you think, as the flickering lights of street lamps barely illuminate your path. You and some of your friends have decided to spend Halloween night roaming the more desolate streets of your small town, rather than attend the party of the school's homecoming queen, the most popular and at the same time most hated girl ever by you and your friends, a common ground that has certainly welded your friendship.

You are reminded of the afternoon you spent at Glenn's house deciding how you would spend Halloween night; Glenn's initiative had been rather unique, since he was not a fan of that holiday.

“It will be fun, everything is so scary at night, we might even meet a real vampire! I mean, not like Edward Cullen, I mean one who doesn't sparkle-” but Glenn's excited monologue had been badly interrupted by his girlfriend, Claire, who had hit him over the head with a book, and who knows why, said book was actually titled Twilight. You remember giggling, willingly accepting that idea, but now...

“We were simply supposed to go for a walk, Glenn,” you mutter ruefully, looking around, “Do you want to tell me where you're taking us?”

The red-haired boy snorts again, settling into his vampire costume bought at a thrift store stall, “Come on Y/N, what would life be without a little thrill?”

Claire, for her part, nods in turn with a euphoric smile, as if she knows something you don't, prancing merrily dressed as a red devil among black lace decorations and lace.

“Life would be as it has always been, wonderful,” you blurt out nervously, freezing suddenly.

The asphalt has run out and the streetlights have stopped dimly illuminating the entire street, you are at the edge of the most talked about lands in your town. When and how exactly did you get there?

“Here we are, my girls,” you hear Glenn say, satisfied with his feat.

“What are we doing here?” you swallow, far from cheerful.

Answering you is Claire, “It's an abandoned castle and this is Halloween night, what do you say?”

You grit your teeth, shaking your head, “You're crazy, I'm not going in there!” you take a step back, your heart stirring, but Glenn stops you in a single moment.

“Where do you think you're going? I promised your brother I'd keep an eye on you,” he tells you sternly, and you know he's right, you can't just leave on your own, the streets are empty but it would still be dangerous.

“Don't you want to see what it's really like inside, aren't you the least bit curious?”

Short answer? No.

More articulate answer? Fuck no.

“Come on, don't be a wimp now!”

You snort, casting a glance at the castle in question.

It is as large as it is gloomy; the older inhabitants of the town have always spoken of the presence of various monsters within it, which is why the lands surrounding the castle are so large, preventing the actual growth of the otherwise large and well-populated town. Some of the land had been ceded to keep the monsters quiet.

That's some bullshit. And you're certainly not a wimp.

What will you find in there, maybe overgrown spiders? You shake your head, certainly nothing up to the Acromantulae seen in Harry Potter.

“I'm not afraid,” you limit yourself to saying, Glenn and Claire seem satisfied with your answer as they begin to step over half of the downed iron bars surrounding the gates of the immense building. It bothers you that they haven't bothered beyond you, but it's Halloween night; you can't really spoil their fun.

You hold on tightly to one of the rusty old iron bars, lift one leg trying not to fall off because of the bulky skirt of your witch costume, and end up straight on the ground covered with dry mud and grass, thank the heavens that it hasn't rained in the last few days, otherwise goodbye costume, although more like an elegant medieval dress and nothing more than that.

“Guys, wait for me!” you exclaim as you turn toward them, but you find yourself rolling your eyes.

The darkness is almost completely pitch black, only the moon high in the sky gives you some brightness in that open space surrounded by green trees and uncultivated grass. Your friends are not there.

“Please tell me this is a joke, please,” you growl, turning only a few seconds to climb over the railing, “Glenn? Claire?”

A shiver of unease snakes down your spine, as if someone - or something - is watching you. But you immediately banish the absurd thought. The Halloween atmosphere always makes everything quite scary; your friends chose that place for that very reason.

Imagining that you simply find them in front of the castle's entrance, you also wander down the path that actually looks like anything else by now. You will meet each other there.

The wind blows without worrying about your bare shoulders because of the dress's boat neckline; the cape had long since been taken away along the way. You bought it in an antique store and the elderly man seemed quite eager to get rid of it. He even gave you a discount.

The sound of falling leaves under the force of the draught is quite terrifying, especially now that you've discovered you can't use your cell phone. There is absolutely no service there, and isn't that how the best horror movies begin?

A frustrated groan leaves your throat, you don't have to think about it.

“Glenn?” you try to call out once more, but along the path echoes the hoots of an owl that is probably scrutinizing you with condescension, wondering why a silly girl like you is wandering around in such a desolate, godforsaken place.

When you arrive at the gates of the castle, you find yourself admiring the extraordinary Gothic architecture of the huge, ancient building made of stone and marble. The fact that it has survived over the centuries without any kind of restoration is a testament to the good materials that were used.

One by one, you walk down the stone steps, sudden thunder jolts you violently, and with fear in your veins you throw yourself toward the immense reinforced door, finding it ajar, a sign that Glenn and Claire must have already entered. You ignore the hint of annoyance, since they could at least wait for you, you must escape the sudden storm.

Wordlessly you notice the large, thick black clouds enveloping the sky, obscuring even the immense full moon.

You carefully close the ancient gateway, looking around the thick-walled atrium decorated with paintings that are surely worth more than your current home, not to mention the carpet you are walking on, though a bit worn, is definitely from the time of the castle's founding. You wonder which lord lived there and whether it can be traced in the history books.

“Claire?” you whisper, afraid of disturbing someone, but who exactly?

Sighing wearily, you really have no time or inclination to play along with your friends, you rest your hand on the wrought-iron railing of the staircase, beginning to climb so that you can find those two idiots as soon as possible and get home safely.

They say 'God makes them and then matches them up,' right? You mentally growl, well, you would’ve just wiped them out instead.

Between corridors that are not real corridors but dead ends, some narrow and some exaggeratedly large, you finally find the wing reserved for rooms, hating the enormity of that place.

“Hey, you ... are you here?” you ask, slowly opening a bedroom door with one eye closed and one only slightly open, fearing to find the two lovebirds doing strange things in the leto of an abandoned castle, because they would be perfectly capable of it.

But what you find is just a lavishly decorated bedroom absolutely empty of any other life forms but you.

“This is definitely a joke,” you chuckle mirthlessly, clutch your arms to your chest, and continue that unwelcome tour of yours, continuing to open rooms at random, with no more expectation of finding anyone in them, until you come to a rather large bedroom.

Quite different from the others, which up to that point had been yes, beautiful, but empty, lacking a soul.

This one was immense just like the castle itself, yet warm, thanks to the burning fireplace. The four-poster bed was adorned with red silk sheets, as were the velvet curtains tied to the solid wooden columns, on the walls finely decorated with gold paint were hung medieval tapestries, depicting hunting parties, running horses and wolves, wolves everywhere. One that particularly strikes you depicts two wolves and a woman in the center, they seem ready to bite her fiercely, you notice with discomfort.

High glass windows with curtains left open allow lightning to illuminate the entire room, followed by a terrible, howl-like rumble.

That horrible noise seems to awaken you from the sort of trance you fell into while admiring the surely master bedroom, and you finally take serious note of the burning fire. Why a working fireplace in a castle uninhabited for years?

“To many the night brings counsel, to me it has brought a lovely maiden, I see...” you gasp surprised and terrified, turning toward the silky, warm, yet slightly hoarse, almost growling voice.

A relatively young man watches you with his shoulder resting against one of the stained glass windows. You had not seen him. No. He was not there before, you are absolutely sure.

His dark, shiny hair has been grown down to his neck, some curling around his sharp, elegant jaw, the neck left bare by his unbuttoned, white shirt is a set of sinuous, sharp, powerful lines. The soft black pants do nothing to hide the wonderful figure of his long legs, his feet are bare, you notice. He feels perfectly comfortable, as if... as if that were his home.

“I-I... I'm sorry, it's Halloween and some friends of mine thought...” you try to explain with your hands clasped to the skirt of your dress, but you are immediately interrupted by the man's sophisticated, sassy giggle.

“They thought it was a brilliant idea to violate my property?” you pale at his question.

“We... the whole town believes the castle is uninhabited,” you reply with a shy breath, trying to justify them.

The young man breaks away from the glass window, slowly approaching you, you take steps back, inadvertently bumping into one of the pillars of the bed.

“And does it look uninhabited to you, little girl?”

Little girl? By the look of him, he wouldn't seem that much older than you, in fact.

Now that he has moved closer, standing only a foot away from you, you notice details of his face that you did not catch a few moments earlier.

He has high, pronounced cheekbones, and his lips seem so plump and soft that you blush at the thought of kissing them, his nose is well-proportioned and straight, while the peculiar shape of his eyes gives him a rather sweet and angelic air, although the fun written in them is anything but angelic.

“I didn't know, I'm really sorry, sir,” and it's true, the last thing you want is to be a nuisance to someone you don't even know, “I'll get my friends back and we'll leave right away, I promise.”

Dark eyes rimmed with long eyelashes watch you closely, before dropping to the rest of your body. Suddenly you remember the deep cleavage of your witch's dress, your skin burning under his watchful gaze.

“Right now there is no one else in the castle, except you and me,” he approaches again, you can feel his warm breath meet your neck, you shiver as the man clasps one hand above your head, around the pillar of the bed, doing the same with the other. This makes it clear how statuesque his physique is, compared to your more petite one, you also catch a subtle citrus fragrance, light and not cloying, is that him?

With a huge effort, you process his words, widening your eyes. No one else?

“But how-”

“In my opinion you made it all up, little girl,” he sneers, "Just admit that it was your curiosity that drove you here," but you shake your head, vehemently denying it.

“I really came here with friends!” you fret, you've never been good at handling pressure and this guy is not helping you at all.

“Oh, really?” a devilish smile makes its way across his soft, smooth cheeks, "So it's just a coincidence that you're wearing this dress?" you don't know how to answer the question, you can't, not when he lowers a hand over you, brushes the outline of your face with a finger, trailing down the delicate line of your neck to your cleavage, your rippling, shivering skin longs to receive his touch once more, you struggle to recover.

“Th-this dress?” you stammer in shame, his finger is still grazing your chest and you are doing nothing to push it away.

“Mh-mh,” he nods, pushing your cleavage down a few millimeters, enough to make you squeak with red cheeks, “How much do you know about this castle and its owners, little girl?”

Nothing, you'd like to answer, but your eyes already communicate your answer as he pulls back, finally letting you breathe. His scent still hovers around you, though.

“Year 1479, the people of the town of Howl enter into an agreement with the seven lords of Midnight, ceding a part of their lands to these noble lords and agreeing to send a virgin once every ten years, on the so-called Halloween Night,” he narrates, leaving you speechless, “In return, none of the townspeople would be hunted down and killed, does that ring a bell?”

“L-Listen to me, I really don't know what you're talking about, I definitely have to go now,” you nod at your own words, but the door slams shut along with a new and terrible rumble, an anguished cry involuntarily leaving your throat.

“The dress you're wearing is soaked in poison, little girl” the imperious tone terrifies you, automatically your body closes in on itself, as a kind of protection.

“This must definitely be a joke, it is Halloween after all,” you whisper to yourself with tears in your eyes.

“It's a security, for us. It ensures that the girls don't run away, because we are the only ones who can neutralize that poison” you don't know why the man started speaking in plural, you just know that you have to leave, even though something inside you is screaming at you not to. Because it could end very badly.

“You'd better take it off, your body might absorb more poison than is really necessary, the sooner we start the better,” he sighs, beginning to take off his white shirt, showing off a well-built, smooth chest and abs studded with thin scars lighter than his skin, swallowing without any more salivation, following long lines of black ink that weave across his pecs, forming some kind of mark, perhaps related to some cult.

“What are you doing!”

The man tilts his head, his soft hair following the movement meekly, and grasps the edge of his pants, running his forefinger and thumb over it defiantly as he watches you, “I'm taking what was given to me, little girl,” he sneers again, not at all impressed by your shock.

It was not uncommon for him and his brothers to be served girls who were totally unaware of their own destiny, they were tiresome at times, they would not stop shaking and crying, praying not to be deprived of their purity, but you smell so delicious that it might make him go beyond your dullness.

The fabric of his excellent quality pants slowly flows over the flawless skin of his toned legs, the blood rushes straight to your cheeks, and your heart misses a beat with a strangled “iiih” as you realize that the stranger has not only freely undressed in front of you, but is not wearing any underwear.

You've certainly never seen a naked man in person, but based on your anatomy books, that is definitely not a normal penis.

With a strange feeling of dizziness and no little embarrassment, you realize that even at rest, it is definitely big, with a swollen base almost as big as perfectly round testicles and such obvious purplish veins that you wonder if it is actually already hard, in its own way. Could that vibrant pink be an indicator? God, what the hell are you thinking?!

After a little dizziness your eyes fly to the closed door, you have to leave, run.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” he asks you, smiling with a hint of danger in his eyes, “Do you want to run? Run away from me? Know that this will only excite me more.”

You try to look away from his cock, with extreme difficulty, as he spoke, his cock had moved slightly, as if agreeing with the man's words. You ignore the slight jolt between your legs.

“If I can get through the gates of your property, will you let me go?” you propose almost shyly, staring into his sly eyes.

“Um... if I let you go, you'd die from the poison, but if that's what you want...” he shrugs, making you frown. The story of the poisoned dress might be bullshit to convince you to let him fuck you, but what if it's not?

You shake your head, it's all just a bluff. This man is clearly a pervert, maybe he gets off on fucking on such nights with stranger women.

“That's what I want.” you assure with a note of panic in your voice, the desire to escape is so urgent you can hardly think, “Open the door.”

But the man shakes his head, “Strip and I will leave you free to roam my lands until I find you.”

“I don't-!” the words die between your lips, his singsong expression gone, giving way to a sternness that clashes with his regal features, the difference making that contrast frightening.

“I like to play, little girl ... but I don't tolerate whining, don't make me angry, because I might decide to take you now, we have a bed available right here and now,” he hisses, clenching his fist against the polished wooden backboard of the four-poster bed. The more he looks at you, the more his balls throb fiercely; he's trying to control his desire; if his cock hardens, that's the end.

You're the first woman he's seen in 60 years, finally his turn has come, and there's no way he'll let you go. Do you want to play? He'll let you, but eventually you'll give in to his desires. The scent of your sweet virgin pussy makes his wolf growl, eager to get out to meet you.

Perhaps you sense something strange, because with trembling fingers you go to unbutton the side opening of your dress, a little sorry to him, the plunging neckline raises and shapes your breasts invitingly, though the stench of the poison with which it is imbued leaves him disgusted. An idea of humans to persuade chosen women not to flee, his eyes scroll over the ancient clock hanging above the door, the hands turn and you have just four hours to go before the poison takes effect, killing you. He would be sorry to see you die without having had a chance to taste you first.

“Tic-Tac, the clock is ticking, little girl... the slower you are, the more likely you are to die,” he informs you with a smile, your fear written all over his face igniting his loins; he has to restrain himself so he doesn't jump on you, and you're aware of that now, too.

Your eyes study his shoulders, they have stiffened noticeably, and with embarrassing speed you unfasten the last side button, letting the soft black fabric of your dress slip off like a veil, leaving you in your bra and panties. You start up under his eyes, which move to observe every nook and cranny of your body, from the soft breasts enclosed in the cups of the purple lace bra, going lower and lower, past the delicious curve of your hips to the tightly clasped mount of Venus covered by more purple lace. You yourself realize that for a man who wants to possess you, that kind of lingerie might make you look like a neatly wrapped gift in his eyes.

“Don't stop,” he tells you hoarsely, his eyes veiled with glowing lust.

The blood leaves your veins; if he were to take you, you would already be ready to receive him. As your fingers move to get rid of your bra as well, you realize you don't find it such a disturbing idea after all, even when you finally pull down the light fabric of your panties, showing off something no boy has ever had the honor of looking at, his nostrils flaring as if to inhale something in the air, you are aroused.

“You'd better start running, little girl, I'm going to give you exactly twenty seconds head start,” his voice comes out as a guttural sound, making you widen your eyes and really run, when the door suddenly opens wide.

You don't even wonder what strange contraption he used to close or open the door without having to physically do it, you just know you are definitely in danger.

Every nook and cranny of the castle is an unknown, he owns it, he may know passages unknown to you; therefore, you always try to wander the corridors with no visible openings. A tense, animalistic roar makes you scream in terror, with spirited eyes you look down the stairs, you are close to the stairs to the hall, the door has not been locked, you just need more time, you can make it.

You sling yourself barefoot down, almost tumbling from your haste and throw yourself out, skipping the stone steps and then to the wild path, short of breath and fear dictating your decisions, you remember it took you a good twenty minutes to get to the castle, but walking the whole path is out of the question, it would be too obvious and easy, you necessarily have to lengthen the path and consequently put in more time to get away from that terrifying place.

With horror you realize that you don't know where Glenn and Claire might be at all, would he hurt them if he found them?

Of course he would.

You don't know the man, but you have noticed all too well the bestial aura around him; he is someone capable of harm, and he will harm you if you cannot escape him.

Your feet step on scattered branches on the ground and you whimper trying to ignore the pain, another roar - or maybe it's a howl? - rips through the air, mingling with the howls of the rushing wind, and you stifle an anguished cry.

Scratches open along your body, trees ravaged by bad weather and never tended seem to want to block your way in every way possible, and the darkness certainly doesn't help.

Like a wounded animal you limp aimlessly, not imagining the hunger of the ravenous beast that sneers at the scent of your blood.

You feel tired, sluggish at times, your peripheral vision somewhat obscured, an excruciating doubt makes its way into your mind. Could it be that the story of the poisoned dress was true?

But why sell it to you, how could the seller have known that your friends would take you to that castle on Halloween night?

You begin to stagger, a sharp twinge in your head stops you, it is so painful that you collapse on the icy, muddy ground.

You realize you are screwed in every sense of the word when a weight suddenly crushes you to the ground, you scream in terror and wide-eyed, trying to shake it off.

Jimin doesn't think twice about clasping you in his vigorous arms, burying his nose on your neck damp with cold sweat, the accelerated beat of your heart rumbling in his own chest, driving him to moan with need. He presses himself against your soft curves, basking in your feverish warmth despite the stormy, icy night.

“Don't hurt me,” you shake your head with your eyes closed, trying to fight the unusual fatigue to plead with him, "Please, I was wrong, forgive me...I won't come back here again, I swear," the boy snorts against your flustered skin.

He reluctantly lifts himself up to allow you to turn toward him, you find some strength to open your eyelids wide, being invested by his sometimes divine appearance. His eyes, no longer as black as you thought they were, are tinged with an extraordinary shade of gold, he watches you from receptive pupils as you notice the grin on his mouth, a mouth larger than you remembered. There is something strange, not human, about him now. And despite the run he must have made to keep up with you, he doesn't have the slightest hint of fatigue in his breath, he's as fucking fresh as a newly bloomed rose.

“You're dying, little girl,” he hums, shaking some hair off your forehead, you lose a beat at the sight of long claws where once there were short, well-manicured nails.

The claw grazes your skin unhurriedly, you feel it scratch without hurting, you anxiously lick your lips closing your eyes, you are so sleepy that you even willingly accept your fate, Jimin snorts through his nose, almost laughing, before lowering himself onto your jugular.

It would be really easy for him to sink his canines into your flesh and bite your throat to rip it out, but fortunately for you he is not a vampire. All he wants is to sink his cock into your pussy and make you cum repeatedly, but if you died it would be hard to put his plan into action. He wants you alive and receptive.

He licks a long streak of saliva onto your delicate neck, heedless of the dirt that has stuck to your skin, before gently biting you. Your reaction is immediate, you start sobbing like a puppy at the feel of his fangs penetrating your flesh, you cling to his shoulders trying to move him weakly from you, and you kick awkwardly with your legs, legs that are locked in a vice grip by his. That way it is easy to feel something hard and heavy pressing against your belly, you try not to think about it as the man seems inebriated by the taste of your blood flowing straight down his throat.

The bitter taste of the poison is revolting, but fortunately your blood has such sweet notes that it counterbalances that horrendous taste in a balanced way, here, now he just has to lick your wound thoroughly. He collects the last rivulets of your blood with his tongue, before dripping his saliva into the tiny holes created by his sharp canines, little holes that begin to close with light smoke, cauterizing the wound and partly removing the poison toxins from your blood.

With no longer a grip on your throat, your head falls limply back to the ground, you gasp trying to fight off the shock of such an experience.

“Mpf!” his tongue invades your mouth treacherously, the taste of your blood making you squeal on his lips, so unfairly soft and pleasant to the touch. The hot and unusually long muscle pushes into your oral cavity eagerly, saving your life has as if awakened the more primal side of Jimin, one of the seven lords who unleashed hell in Howl's town. And the mating ritual has begun, but you cannot know this.

You break free by gasping for air, “W-why?” you stutter breathlessly, “You don't even know me!” you cry as you drive your nails into his forearms, triggering in return a reaction of possession in him, prompting him to grab your thighs and lift them onto his shoulders to your profound horror, he is so wild as he spreads your legs wide open to sink his face in between them that you can't utter a single breath.

As he runs his tongue along your pulsing, hot folds, Jimin realizes with nastiness that during your escape you got wet for him, he had smelled your arousal as he pursued you, on some people the quickened heartbeat has that effect, but the sweet and slightly salty taste of your juices are now a definitive proof for him. And you can't deny it, you love how he teases you by slowly sliding around your swollen clit, plays with it by holding it between his lips and then releasing it after sucking hard, almost biting it. He tortures it by pricking it quickly with the tip of his tongue and then returns to lapping your thick juices from the soft slit, which seems to melt every time that devilish tongue penetrates it, managing to lick and stimulate walls that a normal tongue could never reach.

You shyly move your pelvis against his face, your thighs stained with your arousal tremble against his cheeks, and a terrible heat makes you pant desperately. The man abandons your slit to push himself again against your unbearably sensitive folds, they are so moist that you can hear the noise they make every time that cursed tongue stimulates them to push a few millimeters toward your clitoris, never reaching to touch it.

“God!” you curse, suddenly reaching out an arm to grab his hair, not recognizing yourself when you desperately push him against your pussy, longing for the pleasure he was spoiling you with at first.

His arousal makes him grunt like a wounded animal as he sinks into your core with languid, sensual movements, rewraps your desperate clit with his lips and tongue before continuing with more direct, zigzagging movements, crushing it at times with the flat part of his tongue and then flicking it with the tip soon after. He would never stop kissing and licking you like that, his tensed cock vibrating each time he eats you up a little more, delightedly swallowing your juices, enjoying retrieving them each time they flow between your wide-open, rosy thighs. A clearer, liquid substance squirts slightly out of your slit, causing you to shake around his head, you clench your lower lip between your teeth with tears sliding down your flushed cheeks, you are instigating Jimin to pleasurably hurt you, and the funniest thing is that you don't even notice.

Finishing licking some of that shiny, transparent substance from your inner thigh, the boy moves up your body, biting slowly at the flesh of your belly and then higher and higher to the softness of your breasts, titillating a turgid nipple before pulling it between his lips.

“W-What are you doing to me?” you gasp, wishing he would never stop adoring and cuddling your body, why? Just moments before you were running from his clutches, why are you lifting your pelvis now, inviting him to take you as if you've been waiting for this all your life?

“Are you just...” he murmurs, before kissing your chin with his devilish lips, "Responding to your desire" he kisses your mouth again, an electric sensation forcing you to comply, chasing his tongue with yours, collapsing to the spicy taste that is now all over his mouth, your taste.

With half-closed eyes you realize that the dark lines of ink are moving, taking the shape of a wolf watching you, you have no way to comprehend the unsettling sensation that invades you. The man, with one hand pressed against your bare back, forces you to turn away without you having any say in the matter, you find yourself with your face to the ground and the wind blowing down your back, shivering under his fiery, golden eyes, your legs trembling from the effort to keep you on your hands and knees, fighting the sweet pain pulsing in your naked pussy.

“Now hold still, little girl,” he murmurs in your ear in a husky voice, sensuously pumping his cock with one hand, swollen veins pushing against his palm, which squeezes along the entire shaft to the base, then back to the thick tip from which he is already dripping his thick cum, "I need to get all the venom out of your pretty little body, am I right?" he sneers, positioning himself at your entrance.

You open your eyes wide, panic stifled by arousal, but it's still there nonetheless, clenching your fingers between the grass and damp earth, rubbing your knees against pebbles that make you moan in pain. The length of his cock begins to push against your slit, forcing it open for him, a choked cry leaves your throat, feeling your walls that, despite their wetness, struggle to let him in.

“You're still so tight,” hisses the man unfamiliar to you, "I must spoil you some more, huh?" he chuckles, sliding his hand between your legs, using his index finger to stimulate your throbbing bud, you gasp arching your back and raising your buttocks toward the man, who takes the opportunity to plunge his cock another inch into your entrance, which throbs and squeezes him rhythmically, almost making him lose control of the situation.

The sensation of the claw grazing your folds each time he presses and massages your swollen clitoris brings you almost to the edge, you feel a wild sexual desire, something you never experienced even during your teenage years, a crucial period of sexual development.

“Go ahead, please!” you exclaim breathlessly, pressing your forehead against the ground, every single millimeter that moves inside you without really penetrating you is like torture, your index finger moving languidly, and you're going fucking crazy.

“Are you really begging?” he teases you, you grit your teeth until it hurts, but finally you give in.

“Please... fill me, take me!”

“Do you want it?” he asks again, pulling the tip almost completely out, the only part he had managed to get in, you clench your legs desperately trying to recover what your intimacy has lost.

“Yes! I want it! I want your cock, I want it to fill me all the way, and I want it now!” you growl with an anger that burns under your skin, looking at him from behind, his face is an emotionless mask, but his eyes...oh, those never lie, you read the fire of desire in them, he's suffering that anticipation as much as you are. Bastard.

“You begged for it so well, little girl... I'll just have to satisfy you,” the cavernous tone clashes with his appearance, but it anticipates what happens next and leaves you breathless, abandoning your contracted clitoris he grips your hips tightly, almost penetrating your delicate flesh with his claws, pushing himself into you with a vigorous thrust, instantly breaking the thin membrane at your entrance, effortlessly. The burning that follows makes your eyes water, your body instinctively trying to escape the man's savage assault, suddenly realizing that you have lost your virginity that way, out in the open, sweaty and dirty, just like an animal.

The man on top of you hisses and makes strange deep sounds, inebriated by the sensation of his throbbing cock finally and completely squeezed between your trembling walls, trying to adjust to the abnormal size. You gasp whimpering, moving your pelvis trying to disentangle yourself from the overgrip, his claws are hurting you, but he doesn't seem to want to let go, not now that he is buried so deep.

With a grunt he thrusts out slightly, watching as your pussy instinctively clings to him, as your thick juices and virginal blood wet his entire length, lubricating him. Leaning toward you, he lets a long trickle of saliva fall back between your buttocks, slipping between them reaches the point where you are joined. He thrusts back into you forcefully, striking deeper and deeper, and you feel every detail of his cock penetrating you and thrusting higher and higher, touching points so delicate and sensitive that you howl meekly, like a she-wolf offering her whole self to her mate, the pain has been replaced by the need to be possessed, you move against his pubes with urgency, the thread of pleasure is getting thinner and thinner, you feel incredibly wet, practically soaked, and the sounds of your union are so obscene that you are shamefully aroused. Your walls flutter drunkenly with pleasure, at one point with the thick, red tip he manages to hit the entrance to your cervix with precision, you stiffen whimpering breathlessly, and Jimin collapses on top of you, continuing to move his hips tirelessly and with spellbinding sinuosity.

You take it so well that it is impossible for him not to want to have you again and again, throwing back his head to be hit by the moonlight that increases his desire, his pupils widen and he feels his testicles clench with urgency as the base of his cock swells, making him shake all over. Without a second thought, he begins to enter you with deeper and longer thrusts so that his whole cock sinks into you without any more constriction, he hears you panting and crying and this only causes him joy, you are completely abandoned to him and your sensations.

You're about to come, you're not so ignorant that you don't know what's happening to your body, you've even heard of intense orgasms, but this... god, this is going to be devastating, you know very well. It's nothing like the ones you had with masturbation, this one is deeper, snaking through your lower belly and you feel it in your uterus. You stiffen all over, trying to block the erection that keeps pinning you down between hard, sensual thrusts, every time it touches your cervix you risk going crazy.

“Don't stop me, little girl... It's here, isn't it?” he gasps at you, slamming into you once more, high up between the entrance of your uterus and another sensitive area that makes your clitoris and walls tear with intense pleasure, your toes curl and you can't help but nod desperately, "Alright, love," he replies without even realizing it, kissing your bare, sweaty shoulder, his knot is almost complete, but he wants you to come before he gives you his cum.

He teases a sensitive, turgid nipple with the tip of a claw as he reaches the point of your union, massaging your folds to help you come, though with a hint of naughtiness he doesn't dare touch your clitoris, he wants you to orgasm on your own, knowing that the intensity then will be greater and you will collapse weak and distraught in his arms.

“Oh, fuck-!” you widen your eyes, being hit by a pressing and beautiful sensation of jouissance, sucking him furiously into you amid tremors and searing waves of pleasure, the same clear liquid as before leaks from your slit, this time in a greater quantity, causing Jimin to grunt as he is run over by your jet, slamming into you almost brutally, streams of his cum fiercely fill your core, as if to mark you for life, and finally his knot swells completely, locking him inside you.

Although immobilized, he cannot stop coming, his testicles quivering violently, and only one thing could quell his aching desire. With his eyes now almost completely encompassed by the black pupil, he pushes your hair away from your neck, exposing your previously tortured skin.

“Why does this go on?” you ask feverishly, confused by the enormous weight widening your walls and locking his big cock into you.

“Sssh” he rubs the tip of his nose against you, making you shudder, "Just wait a little longer" his words are followed by an excruciating twinge, his grown canines penetrating like blades into your skin and sinking into your flesh amidst your shocked and submissive screams, your body surrendering to his force, instinctively submitting and waiting for him to finish marking.

Jimin loves blood, your blood, it pleasantly bathes his tongue with its density and sweetness, he moans with need as he loses himself in your scent, instinct commands him to move his hips once more, even though you are both locked together, with a weak moan you take in the last strings of his cum, resting possessively in your belly, you feel heavy and unbearably full, but at least he seems to be finished, you feel him relax as he once again licks the holes left by his teeth, healing them. He looks like a wolf cleaning up after his mate after mating.

“What are you?” you ask wearily, by now surrendering to the idea that the man cannot be a mere human, that probably everything he has told you, from the poison-soaked dress to the deal with the town, is real.

“Jimin” you hear him grunt at such a low frequency that if you hadn't been alone, you probably wouldn't have heard him. You snort weakly.

“I asked you what you are, not your name,” you murmur, the strange, heavy weight preventing you from moving, hissing as Jimin moves awkwardly between your legs, putting you in a more comfortable situation, letting you rest against his chest lethargically, occasionally kissing the back of your neck and licking your neck, or behind your ear.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't like all that attention; you feel a delicious bite around your heart as you cling to his embrace, protected from the evening chill.

You don't know exactly how long you spend like this, maybe forty minutes, maybe an hour, the fact is that finally that thing between your legs seems to melt away, making you sigh almost strangely.

Jimin gently untangles himself from you, leaving your warm shelter slowly and with a feeling of emptiness that stuns you, your legs finally relax and you try to move them to regain some mobility, you feel his cum pushing to come out and two of his fingers enter you, plugging your entrance. No claws, you notice as he slowly turns you around.

You hiss at the burning, your knees are completely ruined, but Jimin begins to sprinkle them with kisses and saliva, the man is back between your thighs again, you can see his long, wild hair shining as he licks and sucks your skin from time to time, all the way to his fingers, he moves them slowly inside you and you twitch involuntarily, closing your eyes at the warmth of his tongue licking a thick streak of cum and juices dripping roughly from you, pushing it down to your hypersensitive clitoris and you moaning in pain.

“Don't do it,” you gasp, closing your legs tightly, but he doesn't give up, grabbing your chin between two fingers and forcing your mouth wide open, your heart faltering with a strange emotion, you let him spit all his creamy load into your mouth, running along your tongue with a surprised cry.

“Swallow,” he orders with a gleam of interest in his eyes.

You do as he tells you, wanting to please him in every way possible, accepting him back into your mouth for a slow, intimate kiss. It is also dominant and sweet, intense.

“I'm Jimin, a werewolf and also one of the masters of the castle,” he explains pushing you against his bare chest, you hug him back as if it were the most natural thing in the world to be there, clasped to him on a bed of dry leaves, "You are my mate, it's no accident that you were chosen ... being a virgin at your age is unusual for humans, but not for us wolves, you waited for me," he emphasizes with fire in his eyes.

“But ... my friends?” you can't help but ask, which makes him chuckle.

“My people have learned to be among humans, they recognized you by scent and led you to me at the right time, they are fine,” he informs you with a caress, “In fact, you should worry about yourself,” he says with a note of reproach.

“H-How?” fear advances again.

“I've waited too many years for your birth, little girl... it's time to repay the wait,” he hums as something hot and hard returns against your belly.

“Jimin, wai-!” too late, the tip of his cock captures your entrance again, this time with more ease and the next thrust has you writhing against him with tears in your eyes, “Oh, shit!”

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kupidachillea · 3 months ago

Note

Could we have more Olympians x Reader? Maybe some slight nsfw and perhaps some time with Apollo?

Olympians x You (Hcs or imagines )

Author note: I usually do SFW but that doesn’t mean I don’t occasionally do NSFW if it’s light or not full on smut. I don’t think I’m brave enough for that and if I did I’d make a separate blog for it😭🙏 but I hope you enjoy

TW (trigger warning):This may have a few Yandere themes in it. And while the Olympians themselves aren’t really yanderes- they do share similar tendencies considering their myths. Please note that this isn’t completely accurate to their mythology- but it’s just a bit of fun so please take no offence and be nice in the comments.

CW (content warning)⚠️: readers either18+ (to read this I mean). This work contains NSFW themes, mentions of nudity, molesting and sexual harassment and assault, non-con, dubcon, toxic behaviour. General (hinted) Yandere behaviour, feeding of bodily fluids (blood[?])Reader’s discretion is advised.

⚠️ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT PLEASE ⚠️

🏺- You had been growing use to it..if that was the right term. Perhaps not ‘use to’ it but more along the lines of growing more accustomed to it. Being on Olympus wasn’t exactly all fun and games.

🪡- But of course you weren’t allowed to complain about it. You certainly weren’t allowed to complain when one of them would suddenly just pick you up and take you to their chambers. You already knew what that meant.

🏺- You’d find yourself pinned under one more more god, their hands caressing your body, their teeth leaving deep marks that you wouldn’t dream of calling ‘love bites’ there wasn’t nothing ‘loving’ about those bites. No matter how much they preach and repeat it.

🪡- Some days it would be one god after the other, other times you’d get a break. But there’s only some much a human can go through. One moment you’d be in the garden or somewhere with Hermes, his lips on your nether regions, sucking and licking at you while another moment you’d be bounced up and down on Ares while Aphrodite made out with you.

🏺- It made your head spin at times. Most times you were scared, who wouldn’t? It’s not like the men here had manhoods that looked anything like human..maybe an enough to look familiar in shape but still. Zeus was one such example, you actually remember begging him not to go through with it- afraid that the thing between his legs would split you in half but he would only laugh and hike your legs over his shoulders and whisper: “It’s okay little mortal.. we’ll do this as much times as we need for you to get accustomed to my size..”

🪡- Those words alone sent a shiver down your spine at the time. After that you weren’t able to walk properly for a few days. Not that the gods care, most of them found it funny. To see their little pet struggling to walk after such intense intimacy. “Poor thing, can’t even walk properly.” Poseidon would coo while watching you carefully ease yourself into the pool of water.

🏺- The sight alone made him excited and decided at that moment he wanted to help you ‘relax’…it wasn’t very relaxing to you. You would whimper as he sunk under the water and immediately attracted his lips to your hole.

🪡- Of course there were many instances like this but there were times where they did leave you alone and you did get time to yourself. Today was one of those days.

🏺- You were sat outside in the garden, fiddling with flowers and and grass blades. It was quiet for awhile and you actually had time to reflect on everything you’ve experienced. Sometimes it was good, other times it was bad..very bad and thought the Olympians tried to make you feel comfortable, you think that they don’t necessarily understand the word.

🪡- While you were thinking, you didn’t notice someone approaching you until a shadow of a man was cast over your body, blocking out the sun. You already knew it was one of the Olympians but you didn’t know which one until he spoke and that’s when you turned around.

🏺- “Ah, there you are, mortal..” Apollo spoke, a bright smile on his face as he crouched down next to you. “Relaxing in the garden I see..” He would mutter and you immediately got an off vibe..he wants something. As most of the gods did when they approached or summoned you, regardless you nodded to his statement as you fiddled with a petal of one of the asters that were growing in the garden.

🪡- Apollo smiled in response before speaking once more. “That’s good, that’s good..but perhaps you could relax with me? We could go to my chambers where no one would bother us…” The golden haired god spoke, his voice smooth as he held your chin between his larger fingers. You tried your best not to seem apprehensive at his request but you couldn’t exactly deny him..could you? You opened your mouth to try and voice your opinion but Apollo spoke before you.

🏺- “Please, my dear?” He pouted a bit, trying to make you agree and after a mental back and forth you reluctantly agreed. This made Apollo beam and he wasted no time in picking you up and dashing over to his quarters.

☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️.🎵.☀️

☀️- After Apollo got you situated and ‘comfortable’ in his room, he laid on the bed in the spot next to you.

🎵- You were quiet as you fiddled with your chiton and he tilted his head curiously. “Relax, my dear. It’s just us..” He spoke.. you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t the slightest bit charming. Apollo would shuffle closer to you and wrap his arms around your body. His fingers moving to caress your skin causing you to tense up a bit.

☀️- Apollo figured you’d still be apprehensive, but he thought he could get you to loosen up a bit. And so he continued to gently feel up your body, trying to coax you to relax a bit.

🎵- You were going to protest about the touching but Apollo quickly covered your lips with his own. He did this on purpose..wanting to silence your words that might ruin the moment. Your eyes widened and on instinct you tried to push him away, but he kept himself firmly against you. Kissing your lips and letting out a soft groan as his hand slipped under your chiton.

☀️- You obviously flinched, letting out a muffled squeak that caused the deity of light to chuckle. He could tell you were starting to slowly give in and kiss back, even if he could still feel the anxious beats of your heart. He decided to take things a step further.

🎵- Pinning you down to his bed and and moving his fingers to your hole. Teasingly rubbing his thumb over the opening as he moved his lips over to your neck, placing gently kisses as you whimpered. He then slowly fed you one of his fingers and bit his bottom lip at how your body tensed and gripped his index finger. He could never get tired of the way your body felt.

☀️- “There you go…that’s it…~” He would purr before adding another finger and scissoring your entrance then slowly pumping his fingers in and out. Curling them and stroking the spot inside you he knew would make you cry out. Your back arched a you whined, calling out his name as your hands immediately reached to grab for something..anything.

🎵- Apollo grinned and kissed your lips once more..adding a third fingers and moving them at a steady pace..not hard enough to hurt but not too slow either. All this was getting to him too but he wanted to focus on you mainly. For now at least…

☀️- He had you twitching and shivering from all the pleasure and the deity had drawn a few climaxes from you as well. You were panting and out of breath by the time he was done and he finally gave you a break..removing his fingers from your women out hole as he peppered your cheek with kisses.

🎵- “Mmm..such a pretty mortal..you did so well…you deserve a reward..” He would say before firmly pressing his lips against yours once more. At first you thought it was just a normal passionate kiss..but you suddenly felt a liquid like substance run down your tongue and down your throat.

☀️- Your eyes slightly widened as a slight burning feeling started to engulf your body. Your hands immediately reaching to try and push Apollo away, but he just groaned softly and caged your body between him and the bed. His tongue running over yours, sucking on the wet muscle and coating it with more of the golden liquid..

🎵- The more of this liquid he fed you the more your body started to feel like it was burning from the inside out. Your heart beating faster as the substance dribbled and leaked from the corner of your mouth. Tears burning in your eyes as you ingested every last drop he gave you.

☀️- Soon enough your heart stopped as you let out a muffled cry while Apollo gently rubbed your hips..pulling his lips away from yours and whispering that you’d be okay. He held you in his arms as you laid ‘dead’ for a minute or so before your heart started to beat once more; and Apollo smiled.

🎵- It was done..he had fed you his immortal blood..his ichor and now you’d never die. Or maybe you did..your old self..but that doesn’t matter now. What matters is that you’d never be able to escape them ever again..not even in death…they made sure of that.

Author note: Oof, sorry this took a long while. I’ll admit I wasn’t very focused and I procrastinated a bit. But on top of that I had things at home doing. Though I’m glad I finished it, usually if things take this long I like to post screenshots to show ppl I haven’t forgotten. I was just so slow to get this out. Sorry again but I hope this is to your liking, Anon! And to everyone else.

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candycandy00 · 7 months ago

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Jujutsu Kaisen Master List

A master list of all my JJK fanfiction, arranged newest to oldest (in each category). All fics have Fem Readers and contain smut unless otherwise noted! My works are for adults only!

Sukuna X Reader

I’ve Been a Naughty Girl! (Kinkmas fic, Sukuna as a Pervy Mall Santa, Rough Sex)

Once Upon a Time (Fairytale AU, Sleeping Beauty, Plot, Somnophilia, Rough Oral) (Three Parts!)

Dancing With the Devil (AU, Sukuna as a Priest, Praise, Breeding)

The Maiden’s Voyage (AU, Sukuna as a pirate captain, Rape/Noncon, Rough Sex, Violence, Sukuna is a cruel monster) (Four Parts!)

Father Sukuna’s Discipline (AU, Sukuna as a priest, spanking, rough sex, reader as a nun)

The Doll House (AU, BDSM, Erotic Torture, Needles, Clamps, etc.) (Four Parts!)

Breaking You (Rape/Noncon, Blood, Torture, Humiliation, Double Penetration)

Serve Me, Save Me (Reader is a Rape Victim who joins Sukuna’s Harem after he inadvertently saves her) (In Progress!)

The Offering (Dark, Dubcon, Blood, Rough) (Five Parts!)

Gojo x Reader

Once Upon a Time (Fairytale AU, Cinderella, Rough Sex, Spanking, Praise, Plot) (Three Parts!)

The Doll House (AU, Dubcon, Chubby Reader, Pet Play, Anal, Bullying) (Four Parts!)

In The Library (College AU, Gojo and Geto bully Reader, Rape, Dark)

Promotion (Power Dynamics, Reader wants Gojo to promote her to Grade 1)

Christmas Past (Fluff, Drabble, Gojo x Geto in flashback) NO SMUT

Pick Me Up (Gojo x Reader x Geto, Halloween fic, Serial Killer AU) (Five Parts!)

Human (Rape, Torture, Blood, Dark, Reader is a cursed spirit) (Two Parts!)

Little Miss Nobody (Plot, Rough Sex, Gojo is an asshole) (Three Parts!)

Geto x Reader

The Sweetest Torture (Mafia AU, Edging, Handcuffs)

In The Library (College AU, Gojo and Geto bully Reader, Rape, Dark)

The Doll House (Dubcon, Humiliation, Public Nudity, Dom/Sub Dynamics, AU) (Four Parts!)

Pick Me Up (Gojo x Reader x Geto, Halloween fic, Serial Killer AU) (Five Parts!)

Toji x Reader

Catch You on the Outside (AU, Toji in Prison, Rough Sex)

Forest Guide (Toji as a Werewolf, Rape, Breeding)

His Favorite Target (Toji is hired to kill you)

The Doll House (AU, Size Difference, Age Difference, Cock Drunkenness, Use of Aphrodisiacs) (Four Parts!)

Nanami x Reader

The Stranger at the Bar (AU, Degradation, Size Difference)

The Doll House (AU, Daddy Kink, Spanking, Hair Pulling, Reader is afraid of men.) (Four Parts!)

Choso x Reader

Once Upon a Time (Fairytale AU, Rapunzel, Plot, Yandere themes, Bondage, Imprisonment) (Three Parts!)

Best Summer Ever (Suggestive, Fluff) NO SMUT

The Doll House (AU, Dom!Reader, Sub Choso, Teasing, Collars, Pegging) (Four Parts!)

Multi-Character

JJK Men as Pervy Mall Santas

Finding Love in a Zombie Apocalypse (Halloween 2024 Event)

#gojo x reader #sukuna x reader #geto x reader #toji x reader #nanami x reader #choso x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #x reader #gojo smut

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months ago

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The House Guest 8

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Summary: an old acquaintance calls in a favour, leaving you with an unexpected house guest.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You grab towels from the linen closet and turn down the hall. Only a few steps before you reach the bathroom door. You peek inside as Bucky examines his wounds. You hold back the salty bile at the back of your throat as you see the torn flesh. He’s entirely unfazed by the blood oozing from him.

“Um, here,” you choke out.

“Thanks,” he reaches to take one of the dark towels. You suppose you’ll need new ones.

You stand silent and confused. It’s all very strange. You just watched a man wrestle a bear and he doesn’t seem to care a lick about any of it.

His shirt is shredded and red and dumped in the sink. His bare chest rises and falls calmly, a cluster of dark hair at the center that spreads across his bulky chest. His stomach is just as thick as a layer of extra flesh bulges out above his boxers. He’s built better than any of the locals with their variety of beer belly or rail thin.

“Here, put some pressure on it for me,” he orders.

“Huh?” you blink before you react.

You put the towels on the counter as you step into the cramped bath room. You put your hands on the towel against his side and he reaches for the zip-up pouch on the counter. Black, leather, entirely unfamiliar. He flips it open and reveals an array of scissors, tweezers, and other medical tools.

“You travel with that?” You ask, keeping your eyes up as you struggle not to glance at your hands.

“Never know,” he shrugs as grabs your bottle of rubbing alcohol.

“Never know what? When you’ll wrestle a deadly creature?”

“Like I said, I’ve faced worse,” he insists, then puts his free hand against yours, pushing it hard against him. “More. Lean into it. You need to stem it just a little.”

You gulp and nod. “Are you okay? Dizzy?” You ask.

“Fine. Let’s just get this cleaned up.” He turns his attention back to the kit as he wets a thick wad of gauze with the alcohol. “I’m gonna sterilise bit by bit. You move the towel, keep it firm...”

You once more dip your chin. You hold your breath as you work in tandem. You’re silent. You swallow loudly and wobble.

“Don’t lock your knees,” he warns. “And breathe.”

You exhale and steady your legs. He should be the one feeling so woozy. As he works around the towel and you move it to reveal the bits of mangled skin, it’s a little less unnerving. His confidence helps to sooth your hammering heart.

He tosses the bloodied gauze in the bin and grabs a long curved needle from the kit. Oh god. You don’t know if you can handle that. You shift to lean against the doorway.

“You don’t deal with this a lot? All the way up here, what would do in an emergency?” He wonders.

You peel your dry tongue from the roof of your mouth, “is this not one?”

He chuckles. “Not even close.”

He sterilizes the needle and threads it. You can only watch helplessly. The house is cold and yet heat roils off of him. Your brow is beaded with sweat and your back burns.

The longer you stand in the tight space of the bathroom, the more you’re aware of his nudity. The top of his boxers is stained with blood. Still he works without hesitation. As he pokes the metal tip through his flesh, you hold back a wretch.

“Alright,” he puts his hand against the towel. “Go.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just... lot.”

“It’s good. I got it from here,” he turns the face the mirror. “Go on, wash your hands. Have some water. And breathe. I don’t need you fainting.”

You don’t argue. You just go. You wash your hands for a long time in the kitchen, scrubbing your palms and nails. As you shut off the tap, you remember your coffee, left outside in the panic of your furry encounter. It’s probably cold now and you’re not going back outside. Not yet.

There’s a bit left in the pot. You claim it in a new mug and take out your phone from your robe pocket. You can still smell the bloody iron. You have bars.

You don’t think, you just tap Sam’s name and wait as you scowl over the table with your hand on your mug. It takes two tries for him to pick up and when he does, he sounds groggy.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“He fought a bear,” you say, if only to hear it out loud.

“Bucky?”

“Who else? Sam, he’s bleeding all over my bathroom.”

“Well, did you call someone?” He asks, not a glean of concern in his voice.

“No, he said he didn’t need it. He’s sewing himself up. Sam, do you not—a bear. A bear.”

“I mean, that man isn’t going to die because of a bear. His own stupidity, sure, but not that.” He chuckles.

“Are you laughing?” You hiss.

“It’s funny. I’m picturing it now. Oh, tell me you recorded it.”

“Sam,” you snap.

“Ah, come on. He’s fine. You’re fine. Is the bear fine?” He groans and you hear jostling on his end.

“It ran off,” you say.

“Then you know what, sounds like he did you a favour. He got rid of a pest,” he insists. “Just too bad you’re stuck with another type of pest.”

“Which you brought here.”

“You’re doing a service to your country,” he says.

“Again, Canadian. I don’t know how you keep forgetting.”

“I don’t but we’re close allies. NAFTA or whatever,” he snickers. “Take it easy, okay? He’s alive, you’re alive. Things are going well. I expected you to call a lot sooner.”

“Splendid, well I’m calling now,” you retort.

“And what exactly do you want? Should I come all the way up there and get him? Send a bus ticket? Or maybe I should have a serious conversation with ole Buck,” he taunts.

You twitch. You don’t know what you want. You think you’re still in shock.

“Look, I’m gonna send you some money, right? Take care of this fool,” he says. “Consider it sent and done. Now, I gotta go deal with Sarah. Trust me, she’ll have a few of her own words for me too.”

“Fine, whatever, Sam. But we’re even after this. You don’t get to drop anymore fugitives on my doorstep.”

“Ledger wiped,” he assures. “Go make sure the old man isn’t bleeding out.”

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #the house guest #series #drabble #mcu #marvel #winter soldier #captain america #avengers

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theoldsports · 1 year ago

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Mirror

Coriolanus Snow x Reader. 6.1k words.

18+ some smut, but it’s dicey. dubcon, biting, fingering, nudity, nonconsensual touch, drugs/alcohol? rehab discussion briefly, threats of violence, the shower, struggle against media, one reference to a line from scripture, possessiveness, manipulation. it’s dark. prolonged exposure to it is bad for you.

longest one yet! chronologically follows Married 1+2 in the TRUCULENT series fairly rapidly. i really learned to love this one. upon editing, this story became way more about gaslighting and headfucking someone good and hard into relying on you. special thank you to @heavqn for beta-ing and ridiculous amounts of support and ideas. a lot of our pre-editing convos made this make much more sense to me. + votes are in: next installment/current WIP will be the wedding.

CLICK FOR MORE! CAN BE READ AS SERIES OR STANDALONE

The hand against her shoulder shook her for a moment, then much faster. The shaking lasted seconds or even minutes before [Y/N] pried her eyes open. Everything in the bedroom looked too real, too clear. Coriolanus stood above her. His hand had been doing the shaking. He looked like he had just returned from a run due to his clothes and sweat-stained hair. His hair had grown back more beautifully than before. [Y/N] remembered seeing him when she saw him in the stacks of Philosophy books at the library right after he had returned from Twelve. It was jarring. She had always fancied him a pretty boy even if she loathed him throughout their childhood. He was much different upon his return.

Coriolanus pulled himself up out of the comfort of their bed almost every morning, far too early, to go for a run. [Y/N] didn’t know how she would endure a lifetime of his too chipper morning behavior once they were married. Coming down after a night on morphling was hard and still, she did it over and over again. Coriolanus knew he couldn’t stand in the way of a little fun, but he wouldn’t allow it in their home, so [Y/N] had become involved in using it socially when it was available to her.

“Great. You look like a bum.” Coriolanus said, noting the dark and sunken crescents under her eyes.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning. You look like a bum.”

“I’m not a bum.” [Y/N] replied tiredly. She rubbed her eyes.

Last night, [Y/N] had gone out dancing with some of her friends. It was not a bachelorette party in so many words, but it filled the same purpose. It was also a stretch to call the people she went out with friends in so many words, but they filled the same purpose. [Y/N] hadn’t felt that she had people other than Coriolanus for sometime now. She had gotten very drunk and very high the night before, resulting in frustration from Coriolanus when she returned home. He always waited up by the front door when she was gone so long. Coriolanus did not like it when she wasn’t home with him. She would make it up to him somehow— she always did.

“Come on, up with you.” Coriolanus commanded. He sat on the edge of the bed and pushed her up to a sitting position. His voice was harsh, but his touch was soft. [Y/N] adored Coriolanus’ careful, yet guiding touches. Unless his dick was in her, he only touched her with care like she was a porcelain figurine.

“Why all the rush?” [Y/N] yawned.

“You don’t remember?” Coriolanus sighed. He was upset in that pompous way of his. He rubbed his creased forehead. “Seriously, [Y/N]. I ask so little of you and you can’t even behave well enough to remember that we have an interview in…” he checked his watch. “Three hours.” Coriolanus said. It was false that he asked so little of [Y/N]. Sometimes, he asked too much.

An hour exclusive on Lucky Flickerman’s daytime chatter joint. Shit. That woke [Y/N] up. “That’s today!” She exclaimed. That was the only caffeine she needed to wake her up. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Coryo. I didn’t think—“

“No. No Coryo. No, you didn’t think,” Coriolanus said. He needn’t elaborate. “Shower. We’ve got to beat downtown traffic.”

[Y/N] swore Coriolanus scheduled things like this at the worst possible times just to make her look worse than him.

She pushed her shaky legs off the bed. As soon as she stood, [Y/N] felt like she was going to fall. Perceptively, Coriolanus stood and placed his ever-vigilant hand on her lower back to steady her. “You’re a mess.” He said flatly. [Y/N] could tell that Coriolanus felt damp from his run. It crossed her mind that Coriolanus drank bitter coffee, did his work on time, smoked very little and went on a run daily. [Y/N] regularly got too high to see straight and cried when she didn’t get her way. Some pair they were.

“‘M not.” she protested messily. She didn’t want to admit that Coriolanus was right.

Coriolanus huffed indignantly, but did not reply otherwise. He walked her to the bathroom like marching a child to the naughty step. [Y/N] was set down on the low counter-top. “I’m concerned you’re going to slip and give yourself a black-eye,” Coriolanus said. “I don’t want people to think I hurt you.” He pulled his track jacket off and dropped it on the floor and reached over to take her short magenta teddy off. She felt desperately bare in front of Coriolanus as she was striped mechanically like a child’s doll. The teddy she wore was one of her favorites, with the delicate lace on the bust. She appreciated that Coriolanus was equally as delicate as the lace when handling it. He must have remembered how much [Y/N] liked it. Coriolanus remembered everything.

[Y/N] was simply impressed she had gotten herself into pajamas after last night at all.

“You’re going to ruin yourself if you keep doing this, you know.” Coriolanus said, starting the shower water.

“So you keep telling me,” [Y/N] shivered due to her bareness against the bathroom tile. “I’m sorry.”

Coriolanus deflected with a shake of his head. He turned to her. Coriolanus was obviously thinking about speaking as the water heated up. Hot water whenever desired was Coriolanus’ number one favorite thing about rebuilding the Snow fortune. That’s why he took his showers too hot; to prove that he could. The thought gave him the confidence to speak. “Do I make you feel so ill that you have to run around and treat yourself like this? Did I do something?” The insecurity of that question made [Y/N] raise an eyebrow. Sometimes when she looked at Coriolanus and realized he was still a boy in many regards. Twenty-three wasn’t very old at all. His frontal lobe wasn’t even finished developing. His primary desire was to be enough for himself, for her, and for everyone else too. [Y/N] feared that he worried he hadn’t figured that out yet. The girl was far from figuring that out herself as well. She rarely saw vulnerability slip through the cracks in the finished marble exterior that built Coriolanus Snow. But who knew if what he said was a true feeling of his or not.

“No,” [Y/N] said. She looked down at her manicured toes. “I did this before we were, y’know… You’ve seen me at house parties since the Academy. You know it’s not you.”

“It has to stop,” Coriolanus started, dashing that fear from his mind. [Y/N] permitting a discussion without blocking him out unpowered him to share his concerns. “It worries me when you’re out late with who knows who. With so many people seeing you. It’s not just part of an act, it’s bad for you.” He said, but what he meant to say was it’s bad for me.

“I knew you had jealousy problems, Coriolanus, but being worried you can’t personally compete with your girl’s partying habits is… hilarious.” [Y/N] attempted a joke. She saw the vein in Coriolanus’ neck throb. His eyes got cold when his vulnerability, no matter how shallow, was met with rejection.

“Get in the shower.”

[Y/N] cast her eyes down, took off her panties and did what she was told.

“It’s so hot!” She all but screamed.

[Y/N] let the water scald her skin. She didn’t want to complain at his trying to help her. “You’ll deal with it,” Coriolanus said, sliding the shower door shut behind the both of them. [Y/N] hadn’t even noticed him undressing, but here they were. They had never been in the shower together before. It wasn’t unpleasant, but the circumstances were. “For the record, I don’t have a ‘jealousy problem.’” He said after a moment of allowing [Y/N] hair to get damp enough to shampoo.

“Really?” [Y/N] bit back, reaching clumsily for her shampoo bottle with slippery fingers.

“Really. Jealousy isn’t a problem when you understand what’s rightfully yours,” Coriolanus said. Normally, she blocked Coriolanus out when he spoke like that. Maybe it was physical proximity or toxic prolonged exposure to Coriolanus, but that made her blush red in the face. Ignoring it, [Y/N]’s fingers closed around her pink and brown shampoo bottle, but Coriolanus snatched it out of her fingers effortlessly. “Let me. I want to be sure it gets done,” He muttered with a passive aggressive edge. That attitude seemed like a put-on to [Y/N]. She wondered if he wanted an excuse to be close to her. She made those up sometimes to be close to him. Maybe she was just flattering herself. Coriolanus squeezed some shampoo into his palm and set the bottle down on the shower ledge. “Who were you out with anyway?”

“Um… Some of the girls. Lysistrata. Oh, Clem. Some others.” [Y/N] braced a hand against the damp wall to steady her feet on the slippery ground.

“Clemensia?” Coriolanus asked, sliding his fingers into her hair, careful as ever. It felt newly intimate in a way that Coriolanus typically avoided with her.

“Who else?”

“I see. You know she’s—“

“I know you don’t like her.” [Y/N] said. Coriolanus was silent.

“I don’t like when you go out without me. I just worry.” He finally said.

“I’m sure you do.”

It was silent between them. Coriolanus worked the shampoo into her hair easily. A man known for his rough intensity being gentle with anything was a surprise to her.

“Did you see anyone else?” He asked nonchalantly.

[Y/N] sighed. Even casual conversation turned to interrogation. She wasn’t sure if he meant it, or if it was all he knew how to do. “Do you mean… Was I photographed behaving in some unsightly way? I dunno. I probably was. I wasn’t unfaithful, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“Stop.” Coriolanus said, leaving no room for further argument.

It was quiet again. “Thank you for washing my hair. That’s, uh, it’s very kind.”

“Don’t mention it.” He replied, coaxing [Y/N] back under the water to rinse out the suds. His long fingers combed back through her hair over and over again. [Y/N], soapy, turned around and stared at Coriolanus’ wet face and hair. Even when appearing like a drowned animal, his imposing figure was statuesque.

[Y/N] leaned up and kissed him quickly. “I’m sorry I forgot about the interview,” she whispered, barely louder than the shower water. She apologized more than he did, but he responded well to knowing someone other than him was in the wrong. “Do I really look like shit?”

Coriolanus sighed, more familiarly this time. He loved when she needed him. He would insult her all day long if it meant he got to give her more validation later on. “No,” he slipped a hand under her breast and gave it a squeeze, his thumb danced across her nipple. “No, you don’t,” His other hand wormed its way across her cheek to brush away that disgusting makeup residue from the night prior. “You just needed a little polish. Let’s finish up. Go get dressed. Coffee’s on in the kitchen.”

“You poison it?”

Coriolanus frowned exasperatedly. He reached the hand cupping her breast around to her ass and gave it a hard, wet smack. “You bitch.” He smirked.

Sins almost all forgiven.

—

Every time [Y/N] was in a car with Coriolanus, it felt like a coaching session. Hand on her thigh with, don’t say this, say that instead, let me speak first, don’t embarrass me.

No point in elaborating on the most familiar part of their normal day-to-day since it really was habit at this point. [Y/N] always ached to snap back at him after these times. One day, don’t embarrass me was going to hit so hard that she did.

When they got out of the car a few blocks from their destination, [Y/N] had dawned her bright purple sunglasses. Coriolanus hated them and had tried on multiple occasions to buy her new ones to no avail. The daylight was still too bright for her tired eyes, so they were going to be worn on the walk to Capitol News.

After half a block (and so close to a news building), they were swamped by people clicking away at them. It made the bright sun burn hotter. Coriolanus’ white blonde hair and intimidating stature was much too easy to pick out in a crowd for their sunglasses and long jackets to disguise much.

Right now, besides Games news, they were the hottest topic of discussion in the Capitol. Their engagement party had been wild, [Y/N] was typically wild, and Coriolanus was characteristically unwild. It made for good TV.

Coriolanus leaned in to whisper something. [Y/N] couldn’t hear it. All she could do was smile and tell any reporters with microphones ‘no thank you,’ or ‘you’ll have to watch Lucky’s to answer for that.’ Coriolanus merely smiled a smile that was not his smile and said ‘not now folks, we’ll be late,’ or ‘don’t worry about them, Darling.’

[Y/N] was leashed by Coriolanus’ hand on the back of her neck as he guided her through crowds. He had two dressbags of clothes for the show tossed effortlessly over his shoulder as they walked. They were a newsroom’s wetdream. She was exuberant and he was magnetic. And they were both trouble. Power, wealth, youth, stability and status. Everyone liked to watch them at their best and loved to watch them at their worst.

“How do you put up with it, Mr. Snow!” A bland-looking man with a microphone called.

“How was the party last night, [Y/N]!” Called another. They always called [Y/N] by her first name because, frankly, she was fairly certain they didn’t know her maiden name and technically she wasn’t Mrs. Snow yet either. Coriolanus’ grip on her tightened at the question.

She smirked at how the power of her own name took away power from her family and their name; the thing they desperately wanted a morsel of.

Considering a future where she inevitably became Mrs. Snow, she thought about how her lifetime of indiscretions would be tied to Coriolanus forever. She smirked wider at their folie a deux.

[Y/N] felt like a doll again, being pushed by Coriolanus like that. She didn’t hate it entirely, though. She liked it when he manhandled her a little. It helped with all the noise that surrounded them these days to be able to turn her brain off and let Coriolanus handle it for her. She would never admit it, but being a good doll for Coriolanus for the foreseeable future didn’t seem too bad. Her stomach churned wicked for thinking that. It made her antsy to not have an exciting retort in front of reporters. [Y/N] usually did, but her head ached too much this morning. Instead, she looked helplessly up at Coriolanus. He glanced down at her, an eyebrow raised. “Overwhelmed?” He asked quietly, but not too quietly. [Y/N] nodded. “Don’t worry, my dear. We’re almost there.” Coriolanus said like a good husband should. [Y/N] thought about how he was rarely such a good husband when other people weren’t looking. Then why had he seemed to care so much that morning? She must’ve been mistaken about one part or the other.

[Y/N] leaned up and kissed him for in part for his kindness. The crowd aww’d. Kisses were a good way to distract a man. Any man, receiving or watching. Coriolanus’ hand slipped down from her neck to the back of her waist. Her fingers went into the soft hair at the bottom of his neck. She felt him inhale sharply. She knew he hated that. “What was that for?” Coriolanus asked when he pulled away, referring to the kiss.

“Wanted to make sure you were real. None of this feels real.” [Y/N] laughed dizzily. It was true, but she felt stupid saying it. She had spent a lot of time feeling stupid recently and this morning was no exception. The hangover and the whirlwind of voices and flashes had emptied her brain completely. Coriolanus leaned in to whisper in her ear again. This time she caught what he said:

“Stop this. We’ve ten steps until we’re in the building. I’ve told you not to touch my hair.”

He pulled away from her and put on his brilliant, effortless smirk that rich boys his age always had. Coriolanus yanked [Y/N] the remaining distance into the news building.

As soon as they entered, they were whisked away to dress for that afternoon’s broadcast. [Y/N] was dropped into a beautician’s chair to make her face look like someone else’s. She groaned at the duty she held.

Makeup brushes and blowdryers and curling irons and spray bottles of who knows what clouded [Y/N] of vision.

She wished Coriolanus was in her immediate vicinity so she could glance over him and laugh cruelly about how stupid all this is. He was always good for a laugh at the expense of things like this.

“Honey, who does your hair on the regular? I suggest you switch to someone else.” The obscene-looking woman pulling her hair back asked.

[Y/N] laughed, but said nothing. [Y/N] wanted to strangle her.

Not long after that, [Y/N] was pulled up to her feet and forced into a dress that she at least knew she liked. Tight around the waist and thighs, capping off at the knees. It was higher necked, but was so tight that it left little to the imagination. She knew Coriolanus would get frustrated with a fluffy dress, so she picked one that would make his eyes bug out instead. It was off-white with a delicate floral pattern outlined in a brighter white.

[Y/N] looked great. She knew this as she admired the contrasting bulk of the shoulders and flowing sleeves with the clinging exposure of her curves everywhere else. She didn’t exactly look like herself, though. Especially with her hair and makeup done so precisely. She wasn’t precise, she was messy. Precise didn’t suit her.

[Y/N] wondered if the her that stared back in the full-body mirror was the real her now. Messy her was gone. A Capitol wife remained. A doll.

She slid her black ankle-breaking heels on and shook the thought away as she entered the sound stage.

[Y/N] always forgot how noble Coriolanus was capable of looking, considering he was distinctly the opposite. She stared at him. Mauve coat, black trousers, crisp white undershirt, white tie, white rose. Clearly, he had let someone touch his hair. Even if it was a stylist.

Coriolanus gestured for her to walk over to where he stood and Lucky sat. It was difficult to walk with the dress clinging around her knees and the height of her heels. Her short, intentional steps felt demeaning. Most things in her life felt vaguely demeaning, but she kept turning a purposeful blind eye. The stage lights were too bright. Coriolanus’ teeth were too white for the amount of throats he’d ripped out.

Capitol magic.

“Hello Darling. You look lovely.” Coriolanus said as she approached. He took his hand in her and kissed it. Coriolanus’ eyes never looked up at hers because they were too busy looking at how her body fit the dress.

“Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself,” she replied neutrally. “Hi Lucky. Green’s really your color.” [Y/N] lied. Lucky’s green, wintery tux was vile and everyone with eyes and a modicum of taste would see that.

Coriolanus coughed into his shoulder to cover a scoff. He wrapped a strong arm around [Y/N]’s waist.

“Thank you, [Y/N]! Good to see you, pleasantries, pleasantries, yada yada. Shall I call you [Y/N]…? Mrs. Snow… The network doesn’t really know what the hell to do with you.” Lucky beamed from his chair.

“Oh, uh… I’m not really Mrs. Snow yet. It’s not necessary. My first name will do. I’m not picky, though.”

She felt Coriolanus deflate a little beside her as he dropped her waist and folded himself into the gaudy patterned armchair the network provided. [Y/N] felt a sting of guilt. Maybe she should have let him carry on with the Mrs. Snow thing. Coriolanus would have to get over it. “Sure thing, hon. Anyway, go ahead. Take your seat. Some of these questions are tacky, tacky, tacky, but do your best and humor us. Panem wants to know the real you.” Lucky beamed.

“I’m sure they do.” They don’t. And they won’t.

“You kids really are… Wow, lovely to share the stage with. You make me look old and sad comparatively, damn,” Lucky joked. “It’s been a good while since I’ve had the pleasure of sitting alongside Coriolanus like this. You were a child then. Crazy, the passage of time.” He continued.

“Lucky, it’s always an honor.” Coriolanus said. Coriolanus hated Lucky. [Y/N] marveled at his ability to lie so gracefully.

A group of production folks stepped out of the shadows to give them bottled water and let them know the show was about to begin. The studio audience poured in through side doors.

[Y/N] quickly leaned over to Coriolanus. “I thought this was a pre-tape.” She whispered frantically.

“You didn’t remember this interview existed three hours ago. You’ll deal with it.” He replied, with a note of his own panic he was unable to squash.

Fifteen minutes of seating and then a live camera inches away from [Y/N]’s face. “Well, we really thank you for having us on your show, Lucky.” She smiled. The audience analyzed them like vultures. This was the most wicked game designed for them, but Coriolanus didn’t lose. [Y/N] would have to be perfect.

“Of course! Always a pleasure, [Y/N]. Let’s get to some of these questions on my handy little list of questions, huh?” A few shallow questions about what designers they were wearing, what their morning routine was like to look so gorgeous, Coriolanus leaning over to hold [Y/N]’s hand across their chairs (the audience sighed lovingly). Coriolanus curls, stubborn as he was, fell out of the hold of the hairspray like they always did. She smirked and reached up with her left hand to push them out of his eyes. Oh, he hated that. [Y/N] could tell. Lovely.

“Oh, look at that ring,” Lucky said. “The ring we’ve all been talking about. Let’s get a closeup on that rock,” the camera pushed in to [Y/N]’s hand obediently. A large ruby mounted on a white gold band. She had been assured it was real. [Y/N]’s other jewelry, silver, sat patina-ing in a wooden box because of it.“Beautiful. Must’ve cost you a pretty penny, Coriolanus.”

“Yes, Coryo, how much did it cost?” [Y/N] asked. Coriolanus shifted in his seat. Money was not a thing Coriolanus discussed.

“A bit.” He replied stiffly. [Y/N] grinned.

“Uh, you both are mighty famous for that ring. I suppose it’s time to discuss that crazy engagement party. I was there to witness the whole thing firsthand, of course.”

The Snows-to-be nodded.

“These questions can get uncomfortable, but I’m sure you’ll answer all the same. So, your relationship seems… Alarmingly happy today for two people debating splitting over infidelity at the celebration of their engagement.”

“Please, we only debate it when I’m drunk, Lucky.” [Y/N] said much to the audiences joy. They laughed heartily.

“Which is too often, if you want my opinion.” Another laugh from the audience for Coriolanus, never one for being outdone. She knew, in his mind, she deserved that.

“Rehabilitation is always an opinion.” Lucky joked darkly, not knowing what to say.

“Being wild is fun, though, isn’t it? I’m not from privilege and grace as much as my fiancé. He’s always been elegant. I’m learning; I have a good teacher. But you only get your youth once. You would know, I’m sure, Lucky. When someone loves you as much as Coriolanus loves me… He always forgives my mistakes. He’s too good me. He’s patient.” [Y/N] said. He was patient, but it came out in the way that he played the long game. His impulses along the way were markedly less patient. Coriolanus squeezed her hand tightly as a warning.

Lucky smiled bitterly. “Well, I’m sure he’ll learn to keep you on a shorter leash eventually. Actually, I hear you were out last night as well.”

Fuck.

“Yes, bachelorette party, you see.”

“The studio’s telling me,” Lucky clutched his earpiece. “They have some photos from your last wild night as an unwed woman.”

“Oh. Is that so…? Haha,” [Y/N] said. Coriolanus squeeze her hand until her own knuckles were white. Neither one of them had a clue what they were about to throw up on that screen. Coriolanus inhaled shakily, but maintained neutrality. “Can’t be worse than the sides you saw of us a few months back at the—“

It was worse.

The dress was short, but Coriolanus had known that when she stopped into his office to tell him she was going out. He had responded with a “That? Really? Okay…” with quiet anger that the dress wasn’t being worn for him.

Then there was the dreaded miniature morphling vile empty between her fingers. It was obvious she was trying to talk with her friends under the flashing lights. They were all wearing similar fare. Six or seven drunk, high young women pictured together wasn’t that bad, even for some of the old school Capitol prudes.

None was more damning than the strange man’s hand planted firmly on [Y/N]’s ass. His smile was too wide. The [Y/N]’s in the picture’s grimace at the stranger over her shoulder was uncomfortable. It screamed DON’T-TOUCH-ME. She looked like she was telling him to stop, but her eyes were wide and her lips were pulled into a frown. The subtext implied by the woman in the photo was Coriolanus is going to kill me. She sighed. The crowd gasped. Coriolanus inhaled sharply.

[Y/N] had said her behavior the night before was inherently not unfaithful. Coriolanus didn’t feel the need to not believe her since she was the one who brought it up. The apples of Coriolanus cheeks grew red with rage. The stranger’s smile was too big. He knew he was touching Coriolanus Snow’s fiancée. He knew was taking advantage of a helpless girl and her friends. He knew he was defacing someone else’s property.

Coriolanus Snow was going to find this man and ruin his life.

[Y/N], humiliated, looked over at Coriolanus. She had a hazy memory of telling some guy to “knock it off” the night before. Truly, she did remember this, but of course, she hadn’t thought this would be a big deal. This was a part of her life she had had to deal with since she was a young woman. This man’s action was undesired, but not unexpected. Taking in the photo and the look on his fiancée’s face as she shook her head slowly at him was enough for Coriolanus to determine that this touch was unwanted. [Y/N] looked guilty, but she had little reason to be. He hated seeing that look on her face in a situation he didn’t create.

[Y/N]’s only crime was going out without Coriolanus. She knew he hated when she did that. If he had been there, he would’ve handled the situation there and then. She was never going out alone again. She needed him. Right now, he was going to be the man she needed.

“Take that off the screen.” Coriolanus said firmly to Lucky.

“Well, first, let’s have—“ Lucky tried.

“I don’t think you heard me. I said take it down,” Coriolanus continued. He turned to the cameras and those behind them. “Now.”

Coriolanus watched a young woman at a screen immediately buckle at his demand and begin scrambling to pull the image. The show’s graphic was returned to the monitor. “Thank you,” Coriolanus said in the woman’s direction. [Y/N] stared at the floor, beet-red. She was trying not to cry, but what would it matter if she did? Coriolanus knew too well the meaning of her tell-tale sniffle and avoidant eye contact. He turned back to Lucky. “I think that was extremely rude of you and your production group to put up an image, without consent, of my fiancée getting touched without consent. It’s apparent to me from looking at that photo that my fiancée did not welcome that touch. Would you agree?”

“Possibly, but since the engagement party—“

“I think you forget I trust [Y/N]. Are you the one marrying her?”

“… No. But hey, this is my show, kid. Let’s get back on track with—“

Coriolanus knew better than most people that what was said and done on live television was as good as forever. He would use that to his advantage. Nobody came for Coriolanus’ belongings and left with the hand that tried to snatch them.

“I’m not finished,” Coriolanus snapped. [Y/N] reached for Coriolanus’ hand again to signal that that’s enough, dear. He took it and looked over at her. He was angry; normal person righteous angry. Not manic, not cold. That was a new face. Coriolanus had so many pretend faces that clipped on and off. [Y/N] had previously thought she had seen them all. “Were you wanting that touch, Princess? Did you know him?” He asked [Y/N]. She shook her head with her eyes damp and downcast. “As I implied, you don’t know us. Don’t ever embarrass my fiancée like that,” or me, [Y/N] assumed his subtext as he spoke. “Whoever this moron in the picture is has another thing coming. What kind of self-respecting news network aims to humiliate guests for something they couldn’t help?” Coriolanus said. [Y/N]’s heart raced. He cared. Maybe it was for selfish reasons, but his support mattered. No one else was going to do it.

Sometimes he was absent, yes, but Coriolanus always came through when [Y/N] needed him. She was grateful that he wasn’t angry with her, even if that part came later in private. She was grateful for now that his way of easing his own pain eased hers too. She could get used to that. [Y/N] let out tears of temporary relief and reached for the box of tissues on the round table between guests and host.

Coriolanus stared Lucky down and settled himself further back in his seat with a sigh. “Next question?” The blonde man said.

—

The ride home was nearly silent. [Y/N] had started crying the second she sat down in the car. Coriolanus hadn’t say anything, but he kept his hand in hers the whole time. He didn’t even fight to let go when his palm got sweaty. [Y/N] pulled his hand close to her chest. She had done nothing wrong, yet she felt that everything was her fault. She had failed Coriolanus. This media wreck wasn’t just a game for photographers and journalists, this one embarrassed her genuinely. This one embarrassed Coriolanus and she was constantly told she was not supposed to do that. Don’t embarrass me rang against every corner in her brain.

The car stopped in front of their building. Coriolanus, as he always seemed to, opened her car door before the driver could get out. Coriolanus thanked the driver and put an arm around [Y/N] and led her up the stairs to their townhouse. The door closed behind them. Coriolanus locked the deadbolt with a heavy clunk. Safe from eyes that watched every failure with glee. They could be people again.

“I’m sorry, Coriolanus,” [Y/N] said, mascara down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know him. Really, I didn’t. I told you this morning. I—I didn’t know him.” She backed herself protectively towards the couch and away from Coriolanus in learned preemptive panic.

“I know,” Coriolanus said. “Nobody but me gets to touch you like that. I know you’re smart enough to understand that. I cannot fathom how another man thinks he can do that to you and get away with it.”

“That’s… That’s been happening my whole adult life, you can’t magically make that—“

“I don’t think you understand, Darling. I can. I don’t want to know that anyone has ever touched you like that. I swear on my mother’s grave. I will fucking murder them.” His winter blue eyes could vaporize a perpetrator on the spot.

“Coriolanus, that’s extreme.”

“Not to me. Not when you’re involved.”

“You can’t hurt people that looked at me funny. It’s hardly a crime.”

“Isn’t their some old line about not coveting another man’s wife?”

“…Yes. You have a future. You can’t interrupt your opportunities because some shithead—“

“It won’t interrupt anything. Wouldn’t it make you feel better to know that a creep like that was off the streets?”

“…Yes.”

“Well, then we agree. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it. Don’t you worry about a thing.”

[Y/N] blushed and looked down. “I’m sorry.” She didn’t know what else to say.

“Don’t be. I’m not angry with you about this. I know I can trust you. I do. You know I do. I don’t worry about that. I cannot trust other people around you, especially when you use that filthy drug,” Coriolanus said. He extend a hand to [Y/N] as he approached like he would approaching a scared animal. That hand went slowly to [Y/N]’s waist. Coriolanus pulled her in closer so they were chest to chest. “You are not going out without me to some party like that ever again. Disrespecting you like that means disrespecting me, too. I won’t stand for either.”

“I—“

Coriolanus was going to get what he wanted all along: [Y/N] alone with him always. How could she need anyone else? Everyone out there wanted to hurt her, touch her, make her feel bad about herself. Not Coriolanus. Perhaps, he should be thanking that man instead of cutting his fingers off one at a time. “No. Let me keep you safe. That’s all this is. I want you safe. I’m to be your husband. That’s my job. Won’t you let me do my job, [Y/N]?” He said too calmly. His blue eyes stared deep into hers. Coriolanus had a fantastic talent for telling someone something and letting them think it was a question; letting them think it was their idea— letting them they had a choice.

He was right. He did make her feel safe. Holding on to her like this made her melt. In Coriolanus’ arms, [Y/N] felt secure. He was moody, but Coriolanus was frustratingly reliable. He wanted to make himself the bedrock of [Y/N]’s life. She had no choice but to allow him that. [Y/N] breathed out and he felt her breath fan out across his face. “Let me take care of you. I won’t let that happen to you anymore. I promise.” Coriolanus muttered.

He tipped his mouth slowly into her neck and hungrily sucked at the place below her ear. A gasp caught in [Y/N]’s throat at the surprise sensation. Her knees wobbled and her dress and shoes didn’t make it any better. She put her arms around his neck for support. “Coriolanus…” she whispered. Coriolanus loved the vibration in her throat beneath his lips.

Helplessly, [Y/N] tipped her head back to give her fiancé what he wanted. Coriolanus had sucked a few hickeys on her neck and chest before, sure. Never before had he bitten her. This time, he bit her hard enough to bruise and scab. It was harder to cover an indent with makeup than a simple bruise. If she were to go out even to the grocery store, other men had to understand that [Y/N] was off the market. If an engagement ring wouldn’t do it, this would. Coriolanus bit her with such force that the tears started to well again.

The position they were in felt like a dance. His hands on her waist, hers on his neck, their bodies flush together. [Y/N] fell deeper into the black hole of Coriolanus Snow. This must have been on purpose. He knew she loved to dance with him and made it a weapon. Damn him. She would always say yes to a dance, wouldn’t she? Wasn’t this whole relationship just a fucked up dance?

The man reached one hand down and pulled up [Y/N]’s dress as much as he could get it up and tore it the rest of the way. [Y/N] could swear she had been torn out of a third of her clothing recently. Coriolanus pushed her panties to the side and pushed his fingers into her. It would have hurt if she hadn’t been so wet to begin with. She bobbled on her heels. Once Coriolanus has pumped himself fingertip to hand in and out of her a handful of times, [Y/N] was holding herself up entirely by his neck and shoulders and the fingers that impaled her tenderly. Coriolanus had complete control over the situation. The only thing left for her to do was moan and she didn’t hold back.

Coriolanus was unrelenting. He marked a disturbing black and blue column on her throat the way he liked. Slowly, the pair rocked back and forth from foot to foot, as Coriolanus nipped, fucked and sucked. A fucked-up slow dance to the song of the traffic on the other side of the window.