#girl power at its finest

[triglycercule]

jk!nightmare and jk!dream are just fucking kaido and teruhashi from saiki k i'm gonna kill myself 😭😭😭 this is what happens when you do the chuunibyou and perfect girl trope you get fucking saiki k. whats next i make jk!epic or something have reality breaking powers??? mayhaps.... JK! not happening

anyways jk!nightmare is so fucking stupid she's the worlds largest girlfailure. the only reason she still gets to live out her delusion is because everyone in school is nice enough to play along with her. meanwhile dream is just perfect she's got one of my favorite designs. perfect looks perfect grades perfect personality part of the star sanses she's PERFECT. too bad that she's a naive idiot. maybe the dumbness is genetic among the dreamtale twins who knows but i made them both total idiots

[coweye]

The Worst Logan

Logan Howlett x Reader!Loganverse| smut | 5.8k words

Summary: You are the deceased-anchor-being-Logan's lover, having found yourself with Laura in the void, you navigate meeting the variant of the love of your life. Sweet dick kicking angst with gratuitous smut, cause we all know Logan eats pussy like a CHAMP. 😤

This is self indulgence at its finest, but it had be to done. 7-years ago, the movie Logan broke something within me that has finally been fixed! 🤠💕

Warning: Explicit - smut. canon death, depression, angst, spoilers for Logan / Wolverine and deadpool, cunnilingus, unprotected p in v, creampie, all the good stuff. 18+

The first time you see him again, the new him, the other him you mean. It’s in the cave accompanied by a man who talks far too much.

You recognise his voice in an instant when the mouth finally allows him to get a word in edgeways. His voice. 

You’ve heard it nearly every night for the past seven years. It's a few octaves deeper than you remember and filled to the brim with vitriol but it's definitely his. The realisation that your memory has been warped by time is a blow to the gut but you continue towards the sound all the same.

When finally you round the corner Logan stands before you in all his glory. For a moment you are rendered utterly unable to form a single sentence as he leans against the wall, a bottle of bourbon in his palm and adorned in yellow and blue.

Your mind can't reconcile this figure as the man you buried. He has the same sneer, the same broad shoulders, he even has the same stance - but Logan, your Logan, would rather die than wear that garish yellow suit and admit to being the hero he always was. 

His nose flares in what you believe to be recognition as he smells your presence, you allow your powers to retreat and reveal yourself. As your invisibility ebbs away Logan snarls in surprise as the talkative man in red gasps theatrically and begins jumping on the spot. 

Your fears are proven well founded when your eyes connect with his across the room, instead of the love and recognition, you find only open hostility and rage.

Your heart had bulldozed all logic, you were in the fucking void, of course it was a variant.

This Logan looks younger; his hair not so grey, his face unscarred and his eyes not so tired. 

This not-quite-Logan stares right back at you seemingly ill at ease with the stranger who is currently taking an inventory of his face. 

“Logan, that's them. It’s X-23 and Y/N, the one’s I told you about.” You graze your palm along your daughter's back in support as you come to stand beside her. 

“Her name is Laura.” It’s a knee jerk reaction; your correction. Your girl wasn’t the sum total of an experiment, she was her own person with her own thoughts and feelings, not a weapon to be utilised. 

The Wolverine’s gaze darts between the two of you, it’d be comical if you didn’t feel like you were about to regurgitate your lunch. They land on Laura, and linger there for a few moments, before they return to you, it's as if he’s trying to find you in her features. 

You barely hear the man you will later come to know fondly as Wade Wilson, question how you all ended up in the void.

“There was a knock at the door TVA sent me here, saying my world was dying … and I never even got the chance to fight for it.” Blade explains remorsefully. 

“They sent us here because they knew we’d put up a fight.” You utter distractedly, finally breaking your staring contest with Logan as he takes a swig from the bottle he’s currently white knuckling. 

“People like us don’t go quietly, TVA knows that so they took us out.” Elektra attests.

“The answer is yes, I’m in.” Wade declares.

“In what?” Blade questions bemused by the man in red. 

“A team up, you me, me you, all of us together, lets get the fuck outta’ here.”

“Don’t listen to him, he’s a fucking liar!” Logan growls, furious at the other man. 

“It was an educated wish!”

“HA!” The loathing behind it makes you pause, he was so angry. 

The heat in his voice, the resentment, it burns you. You supposed even your Logan had his fair share of rage.  

When he arrived at the mansion all those years ago, fresh faced and wild, you had adored him even then, though Logan was far too preoccupied with Jean to notice the torch you carried for him back then.

It was ironic that It had taken the utter annihilation of the X-Men to bring you together. Charles’ accident had left the two of you as sole survivors. Over the years in hiding your ability to mould force fields managed to keep the worst of the effects of Charles’ seizures at bay, but Charles Xavier was one of the most powerful telepaths to grace the earth and your powers had limits. 

Those years were some of the darkest and yet the best of your life, you found yourself growing to love the man the world called The Wolverine.

You realise you’ve entirely tuned out Wade’s rousing speech and have spent the time analysing the man wearing your love’s face currently gargling bourbon though your name pulls you out of your reverie. 

“Laura, Y/N? What’s it gonna’ be girlies?” 

“Lets fucking go.” Laura agrees heartily, you simply nod still dazed. 

“YES! LET’S FUCKING GO!” Wade shouts back fist pumping. 

“You’re all fucking dead.”

Much later in the evening when the sun has finally set you seek him out. When you come across the father and daughter duo before the campfire you hold back, your skin slowly begins reflecting light, fading from vision as you call upon your powers to hide in the treeline. 

They both needed this and it wasn’t something you were about to get in the way of. They talk for a little while, before they part ways, both a little teary. Laura nods your way despite being unable to see you as she heads back to the cave, her nose just as keen as her fathers. 

So it shouldn’t surprise you a few moments later when you hear Logan's voice call across the clearing.

“You gonna’ stand there all night, Bub?” The man sounds utterly exhausted. 

You say nothing in response, only dismissing your powers and revealing yourself as you advance. You take Laura’s seat at the fire, not quite having the courage to look at him just yet. 

“You hear all that? Should mind your own damn business.” You remembered this Logan well, the one aching for a fight, desperate to shed his vulnerability and bloody his fists. 

“I didn’t hear a thing, Logan.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, you haven’t had to gentle parent The Wolverine in a while but it’s like riding a bike. “I wanted to let the two of you talk, she needed it and I think maybe you did too.”

“What do you fuckin’ know.” He growls dismissively, swigging from his bottle of what now appears to be scotch. “You can skip the speech and go back up, I’m not looking for company.” 

“I’m not here to tell you what to do, Logan.” Finally, you look away from the fire and find his eyes fixed on you, you swallow the lump in your throat before you speak. “I just wanted to see you.”

“See me?” He questions incredulously. “Well, keep the change, bub. Good night.”

Despite your smile at his words, you can’t help the tears that begin to cloud your eyes. Your mind and your heart have been locked in a constant battle since setting eyes on him. This man by all rights is Logan. The man you have mourned relentlessly and yet in every way that matters he isn’t.

“It’s like seeing a ghost.” Is the only explanation you can give him, his response is a stoic cheers with his bottle before he takes a deep gulp. 

Finally either his curiosity or the alcohol gets the better of him as he questions. “You her Mother?” 

“Yes and no.” His stare doesn’t leave your face as he waits for you to elaborate. “Her biological mother was a woman from Mexico City that the fuckers in the lab exploited, all we know is that she disappeared after giving birth. After … you … after everything that happened in North Dakota…” You trail off.

Your voice is suddenly thick and your words get stuck in your throat as you try to make them form. It's utterly embarrassing as you feel the traitor tears begin to form. 

A bottle of Johnny Walker enters your field of vision from where you sit staring at your clasped hands in your lap. Startled, you glance up to find the Wolverine standing before you, casting an impossibly large shadow as he holds out the bottle.

You accept the offering from his gloved hand, your fingers grazing his in the transaction as you take a swig or two (or three) before passing it back. He looks thoughtful when he places his lips on the place where your own had just lingered, as he retakes his seat. With amber courage coursing your veins, you continue. 

“She was all I had - if not for her, I-.” You wipe your nose, staring back into the fire. If it was a struggle to meet his eyes before, it was impossible for you now.  “I just couldn’t see the point in being alive anymore if everything just slowly gets stripped away; the X-Men, then Charles and then Lo-” 

You don’t know it, but you’re preaching to the fucking choir with your words. It was rare to find a soul, going through the exact same torture as yourself. Logan found himself softening to you, it was as involuntary as it was unwelcome, but he couldn’t help it as you described a battle so close to the one he fought daily. 

“-she reminded me what I had to live for. Laura she is fierce and so fucking kind; she is everything I loved about him.” You cut your trauma dumping to a swift end as you remember yourself. “So no, to answer your question. I’m not her biological mother, but she’s my daughter in every way that counts.”

Silence reigns for a moment as neither one of you knows what to say to the other. 

“You loved him?” Logan’s voice is deeper than before when he speaks the sentence. You raise your eyes from the fire to find his for the first time since you began monologuing. They’re filled with something you can’t quite name.

“I did.”

Logan seems to contemplate this, mulling it over as he continues drinking. Finally, he seems to reach some sort of conclusion.  “You should get some sleep, big day for you tomorrow.”

“Can I stay here … with you for tonight?” The words slip out before you really even mean them to. Tomorrow you might be going to your death and the ghost of the love of your life is here alive and real, what do you really have to lose?

Logan does a double take, not quite expecting those to be the words that leave your lips. “I’m not him, Darlin’.”

“No, I suppose you’re not.” You sigh, “but could you please just hold me whilst I sleep, James?”

A huge part of you expects him to tell you to fuck off back to the cave and leave him to his booze fueled pity party. However, against all odds, he doesn’t do that. 

Logan simply lifts the half full bottle of scotch to his lips and downs every last drop. He’s a little unsteady on his feet when finally he stands up to his full height and turns towards the blankets he’s laid out on the ground. 

“Fuck it.” He growls and drops himself like a sack of potatoes onto the pile with little regard for his own body. You’ve certainly had nicer invitations into his bed but when he waves you over with a lazy gesture, you can’t help but hurry before he changes his mind. 

Before you know it you’re tucked into Logan’s side. His gloved hand doesn’t quite seem to know where to go, more accustomed to brutality than tenderness these days as it hesitates for a moment suspended in the air. After some careful consideration he delicately places it on the dip in your waist securing you to him. 

Logan’s breath is uneven, though he’s doing his best to seem unaffected by your closeness. It has been years since someone has touched him with such easy affection and the way your body curls around his own as if it was created to do just that is driving him crazy. 

You are completely at ease with him, you trust him so entirely it almost breaks his fucking heart. Logan's stomach is heavy with something he can’t name, you fucking terrify him. Yet, he doesn’t move because you feel so fucking good as he holds you. 

It's scary, you realise, how easy it would be to pretend this was your Logan as you melt into his embrace. He smells exactly the same as you bury your face in his neck, the roughness of his beard feels the same pressed against your forehead. 

This Wolverine’s arms are a little fuller and his chest a little firmer, but he still holds you the same. You make a decision to not focus on such difficult philosophical concepts as variants and the morality of switching out your Wolverine. You decide to live in the moment, to just enjoy the furnace of his body keeping you warm and his arm encircling your waist protecting you from the world, it’s so easy to pretend that this was your Logan, so you do. 

And you fall asleep quicker than you have in years.

It is still night when you awaken, it's not quite dawn but the fire has burned out to a low smoulder. You’re not sure what has awoken you from the best sleep you’ve had in a long while, that is until you feel the arms wrapped around you and the sleeping Wolverine holding you in a death grip against his chest, his half hard appendage digging into your hip. 

Everything is still hazy; you’re floating in that sweet spot between waking and dreaming, you forget about North Dakota and, god forgive me, Laura. 

You’re back in your bed at home and Logan is holding you.

There's no my logan, new logan, old logan. 

He’s just Logan. 

You bury yourself deeper in his neck. 

It’s only for a moment though before it all comes flooding back and the agony overwhelms you like a blade to the gut. 

Instantly tears flood your cheeks as you shake from your silent sobs. 

“...Y/N?” Logan's voice is thick with confusion and sleep, his grip has loosened somewhat to allow you to breathe but he doesn’t release his hold on you. “What’s wrong darlin’?” 

That affectionate name is the last nail in the coffin it fucking ends you. 

All teary, and regrettably maybe a teensy bit snotty, you lean forward and kiss him. Kiss isn’t the right word but it’s your intention. Your lips touch one anothers before he’s pulling away and holding you back. 

“Y/n… Darlin’ you don’t want this… I’m not-”

“But you are Logan. You’re him just as much as he’s you.” Your hands rise to his jaw, running your finger along its familiar sharp edge. “You’re Logan.”

“Y/N… I’d be taking advantage…” His voice is firm yet gruff as he tries to inject reason into the conversation. As usual being the good guy he’s constantly telling everyone he’s not. 

“I am so goddamn sick and tired of being sad, please Logan.” This time when you capture his lips, he doesn’t rear back. You’re not sure what’s going through his mind, but his self control seems to snap within him as he begins returning the kiss in earnest.

Logan’s tongue swipes along your bottom lip begging entry, entry you swiftly allow. You’re breathing heavily through your nose as he plunders the depths of your mouth, exploring your mouth with his quick tongue. 

Deciding to make the next move you push yourself up, throwing a leg over him to straddle his lower stomach. He’s lifted the top half of his body to ensure he doesn’t lose your mouth, your teeth clash slightly with the movement and you can’t help a bubble of nervous laughter.  He pays it little mind though as he swallows the noise, his hands coming to rest on your hips. 

Instantly, you grind your hips downward on the growing bulge that lurks below. Logan lets out a deep groan at the friction and his hands on your hips raise to the bottom of your tee in response, his thick hands tugging at it requesting your permission.

Nodding, you pull back causing him to groan at the loss of your hot mouth on his. Though it's only for a moment as the second the tee is over your head, he’s back on you, only it's your bare neck he’s lashing with affection now.

Logan breathes in deep your scent mixing with the heady aroma of your arousal. He’s nipping and licking along the smooth skin, soothing his bites as quickly he makes them. It's the animal instinct within him, telling him to devour you entirely; make you his. 

“Logan…” You gasp, your eyes are clenched shut in pleasure as he bucks his hips upwards into your jean covered centre.  

Logan pulls back to take you in, writhing above him in the moonlight, you’re fucking beautiful, though the flash of familiar metal between your breasts catches his eye, unable to stop himself, he catches it in his fist. 

Dog tags; his old dog tags.

‘LOGAN’ is etched into the aged metal and they’re warm to the touch from living beneath your shirt over your heart. 

The realisation hits him like a freight train, not only was he loved by you, but for his other self to have given you these, he fucking loved you. 

He’s not sure why it didn’t occur to him before, that the other him was as devoted to you as you were to him. He’s not entirely sure how to feel about it, but he twists his hands, careful not to snap the metal string, but using it to pull you close. 

For the other dead Logan, the hero he’s heard so goddamn much about, he decides he’ll give you the treatment you deserve. 

As if you weigh nothing at all he flips you onto your back, his hands dropping the dog tags and falling to the waistband of your jeans. His dexterous hands undo the button so quickly, that your trousers are peeled from your legs before you know it, leaving you in an unimpressive unmatching set of underwear beneath his roaming eyes. Though Logan couldn’t give a fuck as he groans at the sight of your body exposed to him. 

Logan begins by kissing down your stomach before his hands linger on your black panties, he can't help but grin at the tiny barely there bow in the middle of them; you’re like a gift all wrapped up for him. 

His eyes lift to meet your own as he begins sucking at the fabric that's keeping your pussy from him, it's already damp with your arousal and by the time he finishes, absolutely sodden with his saliva.

“Logan, please…” you whisper desperately as your hands find his ‘tufts’ for a lack of a better word. They were new, but you liked them, plus they now seemed pretty functional. 

He takes only a moment to remove his gloves, before they return eagerly to your body. Those thick hands traverse the planes of your thighs, they’re quick in their passing as they make their way up to the waistband of your panties, he hooks them over his thumb and reveals your soaking core to his hungry eyes and he’s right back to wanting to fucking devour you, and boy, fucking does he. 

Enthusiastic, would be the word, earth-shattering would be another - the word to describe how Logan eats pussy.

Logan without much preamble dives into your centre, his tongue slips into your hot wet heat, lingering for a moment on your clit, circling it reverently before he dips that talented tongue inside of you. His nose knocks against your clit several times, each more delicious than the last as he utterly devours your pussy. He moans, grinding his hips into the dirt and readjusts pulling you closer, his thick muscled arms locking under your thighs as you buck against his mouth. 

You're a complete goner the second he slips a single long thick finger inside of you. 

“Fuck, Lo, I’m gonna-” 

“Come, baby... I got’ya.” He mumbles into your pussy. And fuck me, he does. He carries on lapping at you all the way through your orgasm, drawing it out of you like the pied fucking piper of pussy. It feels like you’ve been falling for hours by the time you finally come down, only Logan doesn’t allow you any reprieve before he’s back to lashing your clit with his quick tongue. Your hands find those faux ear tufts once more and he groans as you pull on them a little more sharply than you intend in your shock, in answer Two fingers bury themselves deep inside of you.

“One more.” He’s negotiating orgasms, but you have no qualms as he rubs his nose side to side with affection against your sensitive bud. His tongue and nose moving in pace with his fingers, currently fucking in and out of you. 

It's when he scissors those thick long fingers inside of you, hitting that spongy spot within you that makes your back arch. 

Your top half has left the ground, he grunts in annoyance, suspending your hips back to his mouth at the angle he likes. Those deep hazel eyes meet yours from between your thighs, crazed and animalistic, driven wild with arousal as he eats your pussy with gusto.

It's that image that thrusts you over the edge once more, your back hitting the ground as your body seizes, thrusting your hips against his mouth. 

Without any preamble a third finger joins stretching you deliciously. The hand not currently fucking you, leaves your hip to caress your stomach stroking the flesh there, not quite able to reach your breast. 

“Lo… fuck… yes… right… right fucking there.” You cry as he draws your second orgasm of the night out, only when you tug at his tuft due to overstimulation does he acquiesce and pull back, only of course, after cleaning up your gaping desperate hole. 

He sucks his fingers clean as he sits back on his knees, his cock thick and tenting against the yellow bottoms of his suit. Your arousal has soaked through his beard making his chin slick, he wipes it with a single swipe with the back of hand though, it does very little for his sodden chin. 

Tired of not touching him, you sit forward grabbing at his belt. It's a difficult contraption that confounds you, though Logan is far too wound up to find any humour from it. 

 He replaces your hands unbuckling the thing before finding the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head. 

There, finally in all his glory, he is exposed to you and you’ve never been a religious woman, but Mary mother of fucking christ, he is gorgeous. Logan’s chest is fucking… transcendant to behold, it's like he’s been sculpted by god herself, the light isn’t the best out of here, but you hope to god you don’t die tomorrow simply for wanting to take your time and lick each and every single one of those muscles on his stomach. 

Its your turn to leap forward onto your knees and join his mouth with yours, he tastes distinctly of you and his chin is still sodden, but you couldn’t give less of a fuck, you love the fact your desire is still marking his skin. 

Your hands trace the firm abs at your disposal, before dipping into his now open trousers and underwear to find him rock hard. 

If his physique impressed you, you had a big storm coming, because his cock was a fucking resplendant beauty and it was plain to see from the swelling Logan really liked eating pussy. 

Your fingers barely touched as you pumped him, once twice, spreading the copious amounts of precum along his shaft.

“Fuck.” He grunts into your mouth. You lean down, positioning yourself to take him in your mouth, though he stops you in your tracks grabbing your shoulder. “No sweetheart, I want your pussy.” You clench around nothing at his filthy words, this man will be the fucking death of you. 

You reach behind you and free your tits from their confines, another moan leaves his throat as he pushes you backwards. On his hands and knees he’s deliberate with every move as kicks the bottoms of his suit off as he prowls towards you.

Finally, he’s in between your legs naked as the day he was born. His hands are on your breasts, exploring the new plains exposed to him, playing with your nipples alternating between sucking and twirling them between his fingers. 

So lost in his skilled hands, you barely notice when one disappears to line himself up, it's a shock, the sudden intrusion, but not an unwelcome one as he thrusts himself forward and as deep as he can go. 

You moan his name into his ear, doing your best to keep your volume down.

He has prepared you well, you’re so worked up that he slides home through your tight slit. The sheer size of him means it's a stretch that borders on uncomfortable, but the second his hand finds your clit you’re clenching around him and grinding forward, desperate for more. Unable to control himself, his claws extend, he grunts pulling you close and thrusting them down into the ground. 

“Fuck, you’re tight.” He grunts into your neck, where he's busy lavishing the flesh once again with bites. Your neck is going to be black and blue tomorrow, but you can’t find it in you to give a single fuck.

The two of you are so fucking close his bare skin so deliciously hot against your own, but you want more, you need more.

Logan pulls his hips backwards, pulling out of you until only the tip remains before slamming home and spearing you wide open his cock. Your moans blend together as you lose yourself in each other's bodies.

Logan is worked up from eating your cunt, so it doesn’t take long for the sensation to hit him.

“Fuck, where do you want it?” He grunts into your neck, as his hand descends to rub quick circles on your clit. He pulls your ass up, making sure to hit the spot inside of you that makes your toes curl.

You know he’s teetering on the edge, desperate to make you cum before he does. 

“Inside - come inside me, baby.” You whimper into his neck as he pounds into you reaching your deepest recesses with his thick cock, his hammering, it’s unforgiving with his enhanced strength but it pushes him deeper into spots you couldn’t have imagined. He groans at your words, sounding every bit the wounded animal he is. Your shared groans and the sound of his balls slapping against your ass as he takes you again, and again is all that can be heard in the clearing. 

Finally as he joins your lips in a kiss, you come hard on his cock. Clenching around him as your body writhes uncontrollably. 

Logan adjusts his hold on your thighs, now he uses your body, drawing out your pleasure but ultimately chasing his own. The pace is fast as he grunts and groans erotically into your neck, he fucking growls as his hips stutter against your own, and you know you should be more careful, but the thought of him cumming inside you has you gripping his cock like a vice once more. You give him a tight sheath to come in, and he pumps you fucking full of his cum and its a big fucking load. Logan thrusts a few more times, pushing his seed deep inside of you as he claims your mouth once more.

You run your hands through his hair as he lets his body fall against yours, he’s supporting his own weight, thank god, you don’t think you could handle his muscle, let alone the adamantium skeleton. He’s still sheathed inside you as the two of you revel in the closeness.

The silence stretches on for an amount of time you can’t quite quantify. The two of you take in your surroundings, listening to the quiet of the forest, until your breathing has finally calmed down. 

Logan lifts himself up on one arm, and pushes your hair back from your face. You stare at him in the moonlight for a long moment, unable to help yourself as you trace his familiar features. His strong nose and the curve of his brow, your finger dances along his flesh. 

Logan’s eyes close, so touch starved he basks in your affection. 

“I-” Logan goes to speak, before you drop your finger on his lips.

“It’s okay. Whatever happens tomorrow, happens. I’m okay with it.” You smile at him, there's a chill to the air but you’ve got your Wolverine warming you up. “I just wanted one night to be about something other than death.”

He takes your hand from his lips and kisses along the back of it and up your wrist, though It's a slippery slope as he hardens inside of you again. 

Logan manages to pull two more orgasms out of you before dawn.

When your time has run out, the two of you finally dress, not wanting to be found in a compromising position. Logan curls his body around yours and buries his face in your hair as he spoons you from behind. 

Just when you’re just on the cusp of sleep, he finally speaks into the night. Logan opens up about his world tearfully, instantly you reach your hand down, finding his own thicker one resting on your belly and you intertwine your fingers with his. He tells you of the mutant hunting as you draw comforting circles on the back of his hand, it's not much, but it's more than he’s ever had whilst reliving his worst day. When he has finally bared his soul, the two of you fall back into silence. 

After what has been an emotionally, not to mention physically taxing night the two of you finally fall asleep if only for a few more hours, two incredibly damaged souls offering one another comfort.

It’s later in the morning when you finally awake. The sun has risen that much is clear but you're slow to awaken from your comfortable position in Logan's arms, his warm strong body coiled against your back fighting off the worst of the early morning chill, his face still buried in your hair as he snores peacefully.

There’s a sensation niggling at you, you think it's what woke you up in the first place; you can’t shake the sensation of being watched. 

Lazily you open your eyes, only for your heart to drop to your asshole when you find Wade Wilson about 10-inches from your face lying on his side, his head supported by his hand.

“Mornin’ sleepy head, have a good night?” You can hear the smile in his voice. 

“AGH!”  Unable to stop both your cry of fear and your fight or flight response in progress, you throw yourself backwards, your powers activating of their own accord, and slamming your body into Logan’s chest. He startles awake, with the telltale ‘snikt’ of his claws extending as he orientates himself, his arm coming out to block you from the threat, despite not being able to see you. 

After your brain catches up, you call your power back, but Logan doesn’t do the same, keeping his claws out seemingly ready to slice up his not-so-best friend. 

“Get the fuck outta’ here, Wade.” Logan growls harshly at the other man, his voice is filled to the brim with hatred.

“Hmph - this is what I get for acting altruistically. I thought a good stress relieving bone in the woods with your cherie amour would really sort out that bee in your bonnet, but you sir are just a very unpleasant man and I’m worried that-”

“WADE.” This time Logan’s voice is a threat as he shouts at the man. You place a hand on his muscled arm to steady him. Though he may have stopped your heart with his antics, Wade isn’t doing anything particularly outrageous.  Logan shakes your hand from his arm and allows his claws to retract as he stands. 

“Thanks for jumping to my defence there, Y/N. Great to meetcha bt-dubs, huge fan.” You’re disoriented from the wakeup call but you shake the hand he offers you.  Honestly, you’re still trying to process the head-fuckery of the past day, so you don’t have a quick response for him, though the mouth doesn’t seem to mind as he continues. “That mean lil’ lady is asking for ya’. Thought I’d come and check you and big yellow weren’t still bumpin’ uglies. Didn’t want her to see you and Papa going to town on each other's fun parts.”

“Uh - Thanks… Wade?” 

“That’s me.” He theatrically begins bestowing multiple kisses on the back of your hand he still had in his grasp, which you retract gently. “Oh, and we’re done.”

Pushing yourself up, you go to stand though Logan offers you his newly gloved palm. You lock your fingers around his and the two of you stand together, inches apart and your fingers still intertwined, neither quite sure what to say to the other. Wade’s ‘awh’ over your shoulder shatters the moment and he drops your hand instantaneously. 

After a beat or two Logan leans forward, placing a single solitary kiss on your forehead. “See ya’ around, bub.”

“Where’s my smooch, Logie-bear?”

“Go fuck yourself, Wade.” He calls as he walks around, Logan doesn’t look back as he heads off into the forest. 

You still had faith he’d turn up for the fight, Logan always turned up when it counted and you knew this time would be no different. 

“Hate to see him leave, but love to watch him go.” Wade sighs linking his arm with yours. 

“Mmh, You can say that again.” You agree with the clown watching Logan’s ass as he walks away, you swear you see his step falter thanks to his impeccable hearing, but he doesn’t turn back. 

The two of you turn and you begin walking back to the cave arm in arm with the strange man to prepare for the assault on Cassandra’s lair when Wade finally asks the question you know he’s been dying to ask since meeting you “So, Y/N just between us girls… how big is it?”

LOGAN TENDER HAIR TUCK SUPREMACY RISE. I'll use it in every fic, don't think I won't.

Thanks for reading xxx

Graphics by my pal - @saradika-graphics 💕

[writerpeach]

Premium Content

Kep1er/Madein Kang Yeseo x m!reader

10k words

Happy Yeseo day!

---

Read on AO3

“Come on, just go say something to her.” 

“It’s not that easy, Ting.“ 

Two drinks in, and this isn’t your finest moment. It’s not like you’re too shy to approach a girl at the bar, or embarrassed, but—

“What’s the worst thing that happens? She tells you to fuck off?" 

"Well yeah—exactly that.” 

“So what? You get rejected, order another drink, and then you try again. If you don’t, then you have someone hot to take home and put your dick in.” A frustrated sigh later, and then you hear a thud against the bar counter, as your companion slams her drink down. You look over to see Xiaoting call over the bartender with a wave of her hand, as if she’s the one that needs a stiff drink more than you do. 

“She's even your type. If you don't go over there and say something to her, then I will," Xiaoting huffs, reaching over to yank the fruity drink out right from between your fingers to steal a sip.

"Please, as if you know who my type is."

"She's a woman, and she’s pretty. That's your type,” she returns, a slight chuckle escaping as she sips on her own drink, eyeing you down with hopes to encourage you to get off your ass.

"I don't even know what to say. Hi, you're cute. Let me buy you a drink? That sounds all so generic, doesn't it?"

"Exactly that," Xiaoting replies. "It's not that difficult.” And with a sudden push, you find yourself stumbling into the open, caught in your own thoughts. This girl—she’s gorgeous. Even from a distance, she stands out in this white little dress that beckons you, makes your heart beat a little faster with how well it hugs her body. A cute face with that figure, it’s a sinful combination. 

Well, here goes nothing. 

You nearly stumble over your own two feet when you approach cautiously, incredulous to the fact that Xiaoting’s powers of persuasion are responsible for this—but you can't disappoint now. The odds seem to be in your favor: she's alone, nursing a glass of something dark and murky and barely touched, so this seems as good an opening as any.

"H-hi, I—" you stutter out before any full words can escape you, barely managing to utter a single syllable before your confidence breaks. Your words stick in your throat as the girl looks up, away from her phone for a brief glance, eyes curious. And already you feel like an idiot.

"Hi there," she says, wearing this warm smile across her lips, and the fact that she hasn't already told you to fuck off nearly has you in a panic. Yet you have no follow through, with half a mind to turn around and walk right through the exit, but you can’t with how your legs feel glued in place.

"Can I uh…" 

In that brief moment, you've completely forgotten how words work. This is all so embarrassing, you don't know why you let Xiaoting convince you in the first place. You could be at home, catching up on favorite shows in your favorite pajamas—yet, you're stuck in this fancy venue, about to make an ass of yourself. 

"Buy me a drink?" she finishes for you, taking pity on the fact you can't find your bearings. "Sure. As long as you have one, too.” 

That goes way better than expected—you already had one foot in the opposite direction prepared to make a quick getaway. You take a seat beside her with a small victory, a quick glance back at Xiaoting who offers a silent thumbs up in the dim light from a distance, which is enough confidence to fill your entire body and get the ball rolling.

"My name's Yeseo," the girl introduces, taking a slow sip from her glass. "Saw you staring at me from across the bar.. was wondering when you would come over and introduce yourself. “

"Sorry I just—couldn't take my eyes off of you." 

You want to vomit. 

Of all the things you could have said, that sounds like the worst possible outcome. You curse under your breath, and nearly down your drink in one go, hoping this alcohol makes its way through your system as fast as possible. 

"Don't be," Yeseo replies with a smile. "You're cute. Glad your friend convinced you to talk to me."

"Ah, was it that obvious?"

She nods, leaning forward to swirl the remains of her glass, the clink loud enough to distract you. "Noticed you staring from a mile away. Most guys come up to hit on me the moment they see me, with some shitty pickup line and a bad attitude. But not you. You hesitated. Which means you don't do this that often..."

"You got me. I'm terrible at this, in case you didn't notice already."

“Honestly," Yeseo starts. "It's cute. A welcome change from all the creepy guys who think I'll fuck them the second I talk to them."

You stare into your drink for a moment, hoping a bit more courage starts to manifest to drown the nerves. Yeseo, she's beyond pretty, absolutely the prettiest girl in the whole goddamn bar—the least you can do is treat her with respect. 

"So," Yeseo says, as the bartender comes to slide you both new drinks. "You've bought me a drink. Now tell me something about yourself. Anything at all."

Her demeanor is confident, composed—while you can barely handle looking directly into those eyes without feeling flustered. Your mind has already become a blur of indecision, so you blurt the first thing to cross your mind. 

"Just moved here for work a few months ago. Don't really know too many people. I met Xiaoting at a coffee shop and she showed me around the city, and somehow, she dragged me to come here for a night out."

"XIaoting? Your friend over there?"

You just nod.

"Good for her. Drinking's fun," Yeseo says and takes a long, careful sip of her glass, crossing one bare leg over the other, as if that was enough to prove her point. "Probably the best thing to do in this city."

"Have you been here a while, then?"

"A year or two," she muses. "Moved out here to do some modeling, but it doesn't exactly pay the bills. Had to resort to doing some side gigs just to cover the rest.” 

"Side gigs?" you repeat, raising an eyebrow. 

"You know. A little erotic photography.” Yeseo sips at her drink, so nonchalant and casually. “The kind that satisfies people's fantasies for the right price." 

Oh.

You freeze mid-sip at the curveball you’ve been thrown, as you attempt not to choke on your own drink, unsure if you heard her correctly. 

"Do you wanna see some examples? I can show you." Yeseo pulls her phone out before you can even answer, tapping a few times before sliding the phone over, as if she has no sense of discretion whatsoever to share these with an almost complete stranger. 

What you see on that small screen is tamer than expected, but nonetheless—you’re taken aback. 

Yeseo's all dolled up, wearing sheer white lingerie, posed suggestively on a black leather couch, legs all spread out for the camera to see—possibly in the exact same heels she has on now. She scrolls through, presenting each picture for you with a simple swipe of her finger. Different outfits, different poses, increasing levels of nudity. 

It's not until she gets near the end that the pictures leave little to the imagination, no clothes, only a suggestive stare, and strategic placement of objects blocking what matters most. By the time you return her phone, you’re jolted back to reality, the startling juxtaposition between these images and this cute, bright girl sitting right next to you. 

"People pay a lot of money just for me to send those types of pics. Men mostly. Then they'll pay extra just for me to pretend I'm their girlfriend. It's kind of sad actually, but it pays well, and all I have to do is send pictures of my tits and pretend to be interested for a few hours."

"The camera doesn't really do you justice…" you say out of nowhere, and you can feel your face heating up when you finish that sentence, like you've found this modicum of courage. 

"Well, thanks. Aren't you the sweetest thing?" There's something to that smile, the way Yeseo glances in your direction, those eyes so alluring, so damn beautiful. She runs her hand slowly through her long, dark hair, brushing it off to one side, before resting on the counter. "I can give you a closer look if you'd like. My apartment's not far."

You almost choke on your drink again. 

Yeseo doesn't hesitate, doesn't hold back. The look in her eyes is completely irresistible, her gaze trapping you as she inches closer, making a quick move across the counter, a hand coming to rest on your knee. 

She squeezes gently and you swallow nervously at Yeseo's not-so-subtle intentions, your mouth suddenly so dry that you chug the rest of your drink—savoring the way it burns on the way down. There's no hiding the flush across your face, the obvious redness around your cheeks. "Y-yeah, that sounds—" 

"You don't sound so sure. Do you need your friend to come speak for you?" she teases, the tone of her voice shifting all cute and bubbly.

Xiaoting—you completely forget all about Xiaoting, turning your head in her direction, and she offers you a slight smile and a subtle, approving nod that keeps you going. "No, not at all. I'm fine." 

"Oh? Good then. Do you wanna fuck me?" Yeseo asks blatantly, pushing her drink away and pulling herself just a smidge closer until her face is mere inches from your own.

You're not fine.

You nearly faint at those words, barely able to think clearly in such a short amount of time. But you pull yourself together to answer with conviction, to gather the strength to reply with some shred of dignity. "Of course I do."

Yeseo likes that answer, and the fact that you can look her in the eye this time. "Hmm, thought so. Will your friend be joining us?" 

An answer doesn't quite form so fast this time—you shift nervously in your seat at the proposition, not expecting to take things any further. 

“I’m kidding. I want you all to myself.” 

With your head still spinning, Yeseo takes your hand and guides you out of the bar into the open air. You catch a passing glance of Xiaoting on your way out—wearing an expression full of excitement, like she knew this was all inevitable. 

Your phone buzzes once you're in the backseat of the taxi, Yeseo sliding in beside you, a message lighting up the screen. But you can already guess who it’s from before you even look. 

Xiaoting (09:06 PM):

knew you had it in you

go get your dick wet, tiger

You send back a few hearts before silencing your phone and shoving it back in your pocket. 

“Come here," Yeseo says in your ear, and you listen, leaning over as she kisses you with those irresistible lips, more intoxicating than the liquor running through you. One more kiss leaves you drowning in lust, and god, the way she pulls you in and devours you in an instant—it's an easy prelude to what's coming, leaving you aching for more.

You melt right then, forgetting how to breathe for a split second, when her lips press deeper against yours. By the time you recover, she's halfway into your lap, straddled atop your thighs—a bold move considering you're still very much in the presence of a complete stranger. But that hardly bothers her when she shifts against you, kissing you again, and her hands aren't shy either, exploring wherever they please.

Those lips feel as soft and sweet as they look, and you can still taste the liquor on her breath when she kisses you, all aggressive and eager, each lingering for a bit longer, almost forgetting where the two of you are, until the car halts to a sudden stop. 

You reluctantly part your lips from hers, catching your breath again, as she tucks a finger under your chin to direct your gaze back at her. “This is me. Come on.” 

The interruption is torturous, and Yeseo lets out this devilish little smirk when she climbs off your lap and crawls out of the cab, her urgency only growing once you get inside the building. Within seconds, you've got her pinned against a wall in the lobby, hands all over the body of this petite girl you just met, and end up missing the elevator after getting lost in these lips. 

You catch the next one, and the doors are still sliding shut when you press a feverish kiss to Yeseo's neck, already leaving marks on her flawless skin that are sure to show up within hours. One elevator ride, a long hallway all the way to the back, and not a single barrier can stand in your way when you’re at her front door, pressed against the surface while these desperate kisses get more heated, making out so shamelessly for everyone to see.

"Come in—come in so you can fuck me," Yeseo says all greedily between kisses, and she wrestles getting her key into the lock, something you're both laughing about.

"That’s the plan, isn’t it?” you say, fueled by alcohol and lust, and your words surprise the both of you. Yeseo swings the door wide, tossing her keys on a counter with barely enough time to kick her heels off before she jumps into your arms without any warning. 

You carry her further in, the weight of her petite frame less of a burden and more a comfort as you look around at the unfamiliar territory of her apartment—a fairly nice space. The living area isn’t exactly sparse, but doesn't feel massive either. A few paintings hang on the cream-colored walls, fashion magazines littering her small coffee table, while an open laptop sits unattended on a sleek black sofa that looks surprisingly familiar. There’s a sweater resting on an armchair opposite the couch, along with a tall tripod standing beside that seems out of place at first, until you connect the dots.

But as Yeseo looks at you, you find this sudden indomitable spirit, the confidence to do absolutely anything. “Can’t wait to get my tongue in you.” It’s the boldest thing you’ve said so far, but the effect is immediate. 

“Fuck, say that again. About time you finally stopped being shy around me."

“Wanna get my tongue all over you—“  

Yeseo bites her lip. She directs you to the couch, her lips never straying away for too long when you fall backwards against the cushions. And wasting no time, the laptop gets tossed aside as she plants herself in your lap again, with all the freedom to do so. 

"Well, you gotta unwrap me first," Yeseo says, giggling, and takes your hands, letting them run the length of her tight body until you find the zipper at the back of her little dress. One tug is all it takes and that whole outfit is on the floor, in a heap, so easily revealing what's beneath.

In mere seconds, Yeseo sits there in nothing but lace panties, a bra that matches, and a smile—the exact same set of lingerie you saw in her pictures. A model indeed, that puts her photos to shame, this sinful body the perfect mix of feminine yet toned, and those perky breasts are a perfect handful when she unhooks the clasp of her bra with ease, letting it fall right by her forgotten dress. 

The rest comes so easily—her panties drop with the same urgency, and you only catch a passing glimpse of her bare body until she falls atop the couch on her back, completely and utterly naked, offering herself to you like an exquisite feast. And so, the hunger kicks in, and this time, you make sure you don't even hesitate to indulge. 

Within moments, you’re making up her body with kisses, a slow, long drag of your tongue along her flat stomach, memorizing every curve, every inch of bare skin. You continue upwards, paying ample attention to each breast, first one and then the other—nothing but little nips and teasing pecks until finally taking one hard nipple between your teeth, not afraid of giving just a little bit of pressure, to draw a long exhale from Yeseo.

Her fingers tangle in your hair and urge you even more, but your tongue already is flicking furiously while your other hand rolls her opposite nipple between your fingers, drawing out that little whine into a blissful moan. These cute little gasps, you love them as much as Yeseo loves her body being lavished with attention, the way your lips tease, the way your hands roam and explore, relishing the naked perfection laid out before your eyes. 

“God, this feels good—wanna see what else your mouth can do." Yeseo reaches down and begins rubbing her clit in full circles, just in full view of you. 

"Patience," you say, as if you have any left in you, but take the hint nonetheless and head south. And then she guides your head down between her legs, spreading them wide, so you can get the best fucking view in the world, no cameras necessary—that pretty pussy, all bare and dripping wet, so ready to be devoured. 

When your mouth meets the inside of Yeseo's thighs—those perfect fucking thighs that are destined to be around your head, you take your sweet time exploring the creamy skin. From this position, it's all so visible, how wet she is, how those pink folds glisten, inviting you right in. And with those greedy fingers rubbing between, it's become even more apparent how desperate her body gets in response to your touch. 

A few more wet kisses on her full thighs, and your tongue slides between those drenched folds, her arousal immediately flooding your mouth. Yeseo lets out a sharp gasp the second you taste her, with a sudden bite of her lip as she stifles a cry, hips bucking so desperately into your face. "Fuck—"

Yeseo has the sweetest taste that fills your mouth, and you want to drag this moment on forever. Your tongue teases, pushing inside and delving deep, exploring her pussy before you find her sensitive clit. She sounds so needy, that you can’t help but grant what she wants right away, circling around, flicking lazily against the swollen bud until you seal your lips around it, sucking hard.

“Shit, holy shit,” Yeseo cries out, falling apart so beautifully already. She can't stay still, writhing helplessly as the ecstasy slowly builds, the taste of heaven coating your lips. When you push two fingers inside her dripping core, curling and pumping while continuing the assault with your mouth—she just lets go, entirely, with a series of desperate whines, clutching tightly on to the back of your head and grabbing a fistful of your hair. “Fuck, how are you so good at this?” 

"Dunno. Maybe because you taste so fucking good," you say, voice all muffled between the heavenly thighs that slowly close around your head, trapping you in their intoxicating softness. You need Yeseo to be absolutely convinced how divine she is when your fingers pull out, cleaning them off before replacing them with your tongue, plunging all the way inside her wetness. 

"And to think," Yeseo pants, as she pushes your head deeper into her cunt. "You could barely fucking talk to me. Now look at you, eating my pussy—so fucking well. Not too shy to bury your head between my legs."

That's enough praise for you to make sure you deliver, to keep giving Yeseo what she wants, lapping away at her delicious cunt, eager for every drop. This time, when she clamps her thighs harder around your head, you give all you've got, working her clit frantically, slurping so lewdly to make those moans tumble out. 

Her taste is unforgettable, and you can’t help but be ravenous for more, tasting as much of Yeseo as you can get your lips on, a never-ending feast that keeps those deliciously warm thighs squeezing your head. You keep a tight seal around her swollen clit, and a hand flat on her smooth stomach to pin her down—never letting up, witnessing how she crumbles, how she edges closer by the second. 

"I'm close, fuck, so close," she says so desperately, eyes squeezed shut, holding your head steady to her core. You give her all these messy licks that leave her gasping, shallow breaths growing more frantic, eyes pleading, and with that one last swirl of your tongue, you take her right over the edge. "Fuck, oh god, shit, shit shit—"

It’s gorgeous, the way she shatters. Her whole body shudders, thighs quivering around your head so violently, so perfectly, as your mouth keeps all the pressure on her clit she needs, until Yeseo cums right on your face. 

The pure bliss hits so hard that a surge of her delectable juices pours right into your mouth, a flood of endless sweetness, and it all tastes so fucking incredible. Yeseo keeps you right there between her legs for this burst of pleasure to linger, lips parted, crying out in broken moans, riding it all out with all these messy flicks of your tongue that draw more nectar into your mouth.

Her release is all over your face by the time she's done, and you're licking her through the whole thing. But your hunger isn’t satiated so easily, dragging through her sopping wet folds, sucking frantically on her clit, until Yeseo has to shove your mouth away—unable to take any more.

That intoxicating sweetness clings to your tongue, and you lick your lips to savor every morsel. When you glance up into Yeseo's eyes, she's still shaking, out of breath, chest heaving, blushing hard, trying to come down from the intensity. 

"Can't talk to a girl at a bar, but you can make her cum like that?" Yeseo asks between gasps, struggling to recover, still riding the euphoric high after such a satisfying finish. "You are full of surprises."

You don't say much, more interested in kissing the creamy, flushed skin of her thighs, licking up whatever delicious nectar that you can clean up as her breathing starts to get under control. But the longer you lay there, just kissing, softly caressing her naked body, the more that need for your own pleasure starts to rise, reminding you how painful and neglected your erection is—straining against the confines of your pants.

You need to be inside Yeseo.

As you brazenly stare at her legs spread wide, this gorgeous exhibit of her glistening slit dripping with arousal, you tug at the hem of your shirt, pulling it off and tossing it haphazardly on the floor. There's not a drop of discretion when Yeseo's eyes land on your bare chest, watching every movement, not even offering to help, gaze slowly lowering when she catches sight of how tented the fabric of your pants has become. 

"Those need to come off, immediately," Yeseo demands, licking her lips. 

"Working on it, give me a second—” you say, reaching for the belt around your waist, fiddling with the buckle, trying so desperately not to lose eye contact as Yeseo stares hungrily into your eyes. And the moment your pants and boxers finally come off, freeing your rigid cock—she's practically drooling. 

"Oh fuck, that’s gonna feel so good inside me," Yeseo gasps, as her eyes light up, and already she's guiding you to her inviting heat, her small hand making all these little pumps that get you nice and hard. She lets you do the rest—the anticipation agonizing when you grip your cock tightly, pushing against her wet entrance and looking at the approval in her eyes for a fleeting moment. 

And then, those silky wet folds part, and you slide right into Yeseo. 

All of this was worth the effort, when you hear moans escape from her lips, nothing but bliss written on her innocent little features. 

"So damn tight—fuck," you moan, her cunt so goddamn wet and warm as her walls stretch wide around your length, accommodating the first few inches. It's unreal, the sensations you feel around your cock, the wet heat, the sheer tightness—and that's all before you've even started to move.

“Fucking give it to me. Pound me, I know you want to," is all Yeseo says when you take hold of her slender waist, your fingertips pressing firmly into her perfect skin, all eager to pound into her pretty little pussy. 

The invitation is too enticing, and you snap your hips, a shallow thrust at first, to get yourself accustomed to this smothering heat as she settles into the stretch. These walls covered in slick, they choke your cock from the first pump, her pussy so hot and deliciously tight around your length that it’s a struggle to not drive everything in all at once. 

You want to revel in how good Yeseo feels—how good this tight fucking pussy swallows you up and might never let go. Little by little, your hips gain momentum, until each plunge gets easier and easier, building gradually to a punishing rhythm that drives needy, unstoppable moans past her lips, gasping louder each time you sink deeper. 

“So good, feels so fucking good,” she says, every plunge eliciting a flood of juices between her folds that coats every inch of your cock in her delectable wetness.

You fall victim to those eyes when they meet your own, looking back at you, dark and pretty, lips parted. Without pause, Yeseo watches your cock thrust into her, taking in every inch inside her dripping folds, the delicate features you’ve drawn to paint such a sinful picture, eyes widened as she takes each delicious thrust, not able to hide her craving for more. 

"Keep doing that—you feel so fucking perfect inside me," Yeseo says, soft pleads in between breaths, biting her bottom lip hard, walls clenching harshly every time her heavenly cunt gets filled by your entire length. "Oh god, give me that fucking cock—"

You're gripping her body so possessively, fingers digging hard into her flesh, pulling her down with each thrust as your cock pounds away into that tight hole. There’s no wasted motion when you meet her demands, and you get so goddamn deep, bottoming out with ease, before pulling your slick cock out enough until only the very tip remains—then you slam back in harder than before without another word.

"H-harder," Yeseo whimpers, begging for all you can give, desperate to keep you buried inside her dripping core. Her eyes nearly roll back at the addicting stretch that draws out all these pitiful noises, your hips working overtime to satisfy her needs. 

Those perfect, perky tits bounce in unison with every forceful thrust, each rock of your hips into her slender frame growing more frantic, until you’re pounding mercilessly into that tight cunt. “Shit, this perfect little cunt—it feels so goddamn good, baby." And you can’t help the overwhelming feeling whenever you bottom out in Yeseo, sinking your length balls deep, again and again, that cute face all contorted in bliss when the rhythm picks up, and god, she just feels unbelievable—

"You're so fucking deep inside me," she tells you in this raspy, desperate voice as you get lost in how her tight cunt squeezes your throbbing cock. "Harder, fuck me harder, wanna feel all of you, wanna fucking cream on your big fucking cock. Pound my little pussy like I know you can.” 

Your hips can’t help but oblige these depraved words, burying yourself to the hilt whenever you pull out—leaving a wet, messy slap of flesh when you sink back in. 

At this point, you're basically fucking her into the couch like you’ve lost all restraint, thrusting into her hot cunt with a relentless, unforgiving pace, and still she asks for more, demands it even. You're addicted to these sensations, the needy cries she spills out when you get in so deep, the warmth of her slick pussy demanding every inch—taking it all without so much as a struggle. 

"Fuck, that's perfect—don't stop," she urges, clenching down on you while her wet warm walls quiver, urging you to shove the full length of your hard length deep inside her cunt. Nothing’s going to stop you, not now, not ever, not when your cock is surrounded by all this warmth, these unforgiving clenches to keep your momentum going, pleading for your cock to fill this girl’s perfect pussy like it belongs there. 

“Yeseo, fuck—you feel so incredible, love my cock in this pretty little cunt,” you groan, slamming yourself as deeply inside as you can, drawing out all these noises from Yeseo, desperate and greedy—each one driving you madder with need. 

"Keep that up, tell me how good it feels to fuck me—tell me.” 

You can hardly hear the words through her ragged breaths, her voice coming out so strained the longer you fuck her without respite. And you just can’t look away from how her cute, innocent features have turned into anything but drowning in lust while you thrust into her greedy little pussy with all your might.

"Shit, you feel so fucking good, baby—I love your tight fucking cunt, makes my cock feel so fucking amazing when I’m balls fucking deep inside you.” The words fall out before you can even think, because the thought of being anywhere other than this slippery warmth is out of the question. 

The most sinful type of bliss you can indulge in, ramming into Yeseo’s warm little cunt this hard and this deep, watching how her small frame gets rocked, these relentless thrusts that you can’t keep up for long as you look into her pretty eyes, unable to do much but surrender to the pleasure. 

“Don't stop, just a little longer—"Yeseo swings her legs around your waist, wrapping tightly around your body as if you'll even think about stopping. The way she's all coiled up gives you no other option than to piston your hips, drilling her deeper into the couch. 

And then Yeseo cums all over you, eyes shut, head tilted back as she clenches so tight around your cock you're almost right there with her, struggling to hold yourself back. Because this girl feels impossibly tight when she squeezes your length, spilling all this wetness that threatens to force you out were it not for the way her legs keep you trapped. 

"Keep fucking me, keep fucking me until you cum,” Yeseo murmurs, as her body still shakes with every pump of your hips, legs wrapping tighter to demand your cock stay inside. 

"W-wait—"

"No, inside," she demands again, locking her arms around your neck, and there's no way out of this when she clings so tightly, no chance for you to do anything but empty inside her greedy little cunt. "Cum inside, please. You've earned it."

Yeseo looks right at you, that lecherous gaze you'll never be able to defy as your hips obey, until her cunt squeezes you just the right way—and then you fucking explode, unloading so deep inside her in heavy bursts. You spill everything, nowhere to empty but right into her tight pussy, a huge, thick load, one shot after another firing out of your cock. 

It seems endless, the way you throb inside, flooding her cunt as Yeseo takes every thick spurt, milking you for everything you can give until your balls are completely drained and that hot cum has filled her completely.

"Yeseo, fuck…" you mutter, mind a jumbled mess as you try to remember what to call her, the girl whose name you've known all of an hour or so before you've fucked your load into her. All the tension flees your body at once, but your cock, however, doesn’t escape, because her arms and legs refuse to release.

You stay buried, hard and throbbing, long after your high has run out, until the last drop is claimed. Only then, does Yeseo loosen up her limbs, slowly letting the lock around your waist ease off, and it's over far sooner than you'd like. “Now aren't you glad you bought me that drink?"

All you can manage is this tired laugh and a sigh of relief as you collapse on her naked body, kissing at her sweaty neck with whatever energy is leftover. Yeseo, likewise, shows no signs of urgency, as you rest together to regain some strength. "Hold on…"

There's some rustling when she reaches for her handbag on the floor and grabs something from inside. When you're too weak to stay inside her warmth, eventually you slide out with a groan, leaving a huge sticky white trail pouring from her pussy. Yeseo presents her camera, aiming between her legs and snaps a few pictures to capture how absolutely messy her cunt has become after being filled to the brim. "People will pay a lot for these. You don't mind, do you?"

"Not if you share them with me too," you answer, breathless, barely coherent.

Yeseo grins at you playfully, handing over her phone so you can key in your contact details, a vibration coming through your pants pocket soon after. And then she stands up, unabashedly naked—your cum leaking down her thighs so messily as it glistens under the lights. 

"I should probably head home soon. Work in the morning, unfortunately.” Instant regret hits the moment such a poor excuse leaves your lips. Yeseo however, is much more interested in capturing this big mess you’ve left between her legs. 

"You're not going to stay the night? It's already pretty late.” 

"Don't exactly have anything to wear in the morning. Or even a toothbrush. I wasn't planning on getting so lucky tonight.” 

"I have everything you need in the bathroom," she says, determined to keep you right where you are, like she’s planned for every imaginable outcome. "But you wouldn't need extra clothes if you called in sick tomorrow, would you?"

She’s unbelievable. Not that this offer isn’t tempting, because you could pass out right here on her naked body, and waking up next to a model, one that looks like Yeseo? There’s better than winning the lottery. 

"It's not easy for me to call off work,” you say, intent on keeping up these lame excuses regardless of what you actually want, which is right underneath you. “We're behind on a project and I've got some important meetings tomorrow morning…"

Yeseo remains unconvinced. 

"Maybe a nice, hot shower with me will change your mind? At least clean up a bit before you decide..." she's already reaching for your hand, leading the way to the bathroom—despite the fact that you haven't said anything yet. A dangerous proposition, because you know if you step one foot inside the shower, you won't be walking away from her tonight. But maybe work can wait, and maybe you've worked enough overtime this week, because you suddenly feel a little under the weather.

Now that you’ve seen Yeseo’s naked figure under the hot running water, there’s no going back. 

Once you've toweled off and shaken off some of that exhaustion, you're still naked, sitting on Yeseo's bed after a quick tour of her bedroom that doubles as a photo studio. 

She makes a compelling argument lazily bobbing her head between your legs—as if you need more convincing with her mouth. And if that wasn’t enough, you've got her phone in your hands to distract you, with full access to a more explicit folder of photos she claims are for your eyes only.

When you scroll through, there's several shots of Yeseo playing with her tits, fingers shoved in her tiny little cunt for the camera, and a few of her riding a huge, fleshy toy on these same sheets, spread out on all fours with a girthy plastic cock shoved right inside her. 

"Shit, Yeseo—” It’s a response to both what's on your screen, and also the warm mouth slobbering on your cock as you flip through more of her work. She lets you slip out for a brief moment, and you nearly whine, but it doesn't last long, licking at your shaft, using her hand to pump all that spit into every inch. 

"This is what I do when I'm not at modeling gigs. Fuck myself on these toys my clients buy me, or take pictures of my body—you wouldn't believe what people will pay just for feet pics."

"Feet pics?" 

"Among other things. But those are pretty popular requests." Yeseo shrugs a bit. She gets back to work on that mouthful of cock, while you continue to scroll through her gallery of depravity, more shots of her tits, more focused shots of her wet, pink pussy, and the aforementioned feet pics, a dozen different colors of nail polish, wrapped up in nylons, stockings, thigh high socks—the options are endless.

"God, your mouth—it's fucking insane," you tell her as your thumb scrolls through the various images on her phone. "So you don't fuck any of the guys? Just talk to them for hours?"

And it's funny how you're holding a conversation through this blowjob that gets progressively messier, with obscene trails of saliva connecting Yeseo's wet, heavenly mouth to your stiff cock.

"I'm a model, not an escort service," Yeseo says, like it should be obvious. "I’ll do whatever they pay me for, within reason. Nothing weird, but that certainly hasn't stopped guys from asking. I usually dress up in costumes, or sexy lingerie and heels, and pose however they tell me to. Most men just want me to visualize their fantasies so they can jerk off to it as many times as they'd like."

"Sounds lucrative."

"It can be, but it's not a career,” Yeseo explains as she holds eye contact when the tip of her tongue presses right below your cockhead, giving the sensitive spot just the right amount of pressure. “Plus, I have to sort through a bunch of creeps with requests that I don't allow, especially when they're not offering to pay much. It can be very demanding, depending on the person." 

Through this all, you let out another groan. It takes considerable effort, but you manage to remain in the conversation, glancing down to see her angelic features on your cock. Yeseo bobs her head on and on, so sloppily, messy and deliberate, letting her spit flow all down her chin when you look away to glance back at the screen.

"People have this wild fascination with cute and innocent looking girls. I sell these fantasies, their deepest and most perverse desires fulfilled. I become anything they want. A slutty schoolgirl, a cheating housewife, a co-worker they've wanted to rail for ages. They pay me for my time and my body—I'm just the illusion they've created." 

When your cock hits the back of her throat, you tense up, nearly dropping the one thing that's keeping your focus divided. Yeseo gives a slow, easy glide back to the tip before engulfing your entire cock, throat squeezing every inch of your sensitive length as she slurps hard enough to get your full attention. 

But that’s when you find something even better than all those pics—it's a video, and it's taken from the shower, a perfect shot of Yeseo taking an oversized toy into her ass, inching further as she moans for the camera, spreading those cheeks for it all to go in. It nearly makes you forget about the wet kisses and tender licks on the delicate underside of your shaft, keeping your eyes to the screen, captivated.

"Ah, you found those, didn't you?" she chuckles, but she doesn't stop sucking at your shaft, dipping her mouth low to bring in your heavy balls that have filled up far too easily into her mouth.

"That ass—you've got a really nice ass, Yeseo," you admit in all honesty, your attention once again torn between the screen and how messy she's getting with her mouth on your swollen balls. Yeseo keeps playing with them, giving a nice squeeze, as she drools so heavily over each one and, this perfect fondle, massaging away while the video keeps playing.

"Yeah?" she asks after slurping hard, releasing your balls with this lewd, messy pop, drenched with a layer of spit as she gives another squeeze for good measure, moving right back to stroking your cock. "Those videos are more popular than almost anything else. My ass is kind of the moneymaker and some guys are more than willing to pay an obscene amount for a toy in my ass."

“Can’t blame them...” You’re throbbing heavily in her grip, not sure if it's the pleasure or that you've moved on to the next video, where Yeseo has the tip of a vibrator teasing her asshole. And then the toy gets pressed inside slowly, stretching her wider while you try to stifle a groan, until there's so much of it disappearing.

"We can try that if you’d like. Do you wanna do that to me?" she asks, and you're so entranced by the screen that you don't even process her words.

"No—ah, what?" you say, mindlessly distracted, setting her phone down on the sheets, bringing your full attention to Yeseo. 

"That video. We can recreate it. Not with the toy, but with your cock."

Your face blazes red at that admission—unable to wrap your mind around how she looks all too innocent while proposing the most sinful things.

"I’m asking—if you wanna put your cock up my ass? You said you liked it." Yeseo can see you blush as you try not to meet her eyes, but she won't leave it be, pressing for an answer.

"Do you even have to ask? Of course I do."

"Good, because you can,“ she tells you, getting up off her knees to reach into a drawer by her bed, digging up a half full bottle of lube that she tosses it toward you. “Here. Use this." Yeseo turns right around and eases into your lap, giving you a beautiful view of her perfect, plump ass that she pushes right up against your crotch, your cock nestled perfectly between. 

You don't do anything besides stare, unable to get past the way those pale cheeks perfectly press up against the full length of your stiff shaft. Then Yeseo pushes back again, making the offer clearer.

"Come on, open me up," she purrs, grinding those soft, supple cheeks against your cock slowly, a nice not-so-subtle way you get the hint. "Your cock, my ass. That’s where it really belongs. Get right inside my asshole.”

Your hand goes for the bottle of lube that she’s just retrieved from the bedside, but you don't uncap it yet, as you watch Yeseo rub that perfect ass along your erection. "Wait. Got a better idea."

Her head tilts, confused about what could be possibly better than this offer put on the table. But this girl’s body, the body of a literal model, you want to savor it all. With an ass like that, how could you not? You want to get even closer to appreciate it, pulling Yeseo onto the bed, hoping she gets the message. At first, she keeps this questioning look on her face—but when she figures out where you're headed with this, her expression brightens. 

She shuffles around to follow where you guide her, getting on all fours while facing the headboard, so that delicious ass raises toward you, those delectable curves all at your disposal. 

"Perfect,” you say to yourself, voice trailing off as you grab at her waist and position her just the way you'd like, admiring her full body on display, and fuck, that ass is unreal.

And then you stuff your face right in those cheeks. Yeseo laughs in delight, wiggling around just for your sake, making sure every inch is captured by your attention. You get two large handfuls—spreading her ass wide so you can have an unobstructed view, and that's when you dive right in and dip your tongue inside her puckered hole.

A sound of pure filth comes out of Yeseo right away, all broken and uninhibited. "Oh my god—"

With Yeseo's approval, you keep the tip of your tongue swirling, flicking around, coating her asshole with as much drool as possible as she starts moaning uncontrollably at your immediate assault, trying to adjust to these intense sensations. 

"And now you're eating my ass? You really are so full of surprises." 

"Do you really expect me not to?" you question back, as your mouth gets entirely preoccupied by lapping at her tight hole, slurping greedily and teasing around. Your licks only get sloppier each time you dip your tongue in deeper, more focused on pleasing her than keeping any kind of composure, eating her ass without restraint.

She grinds up against your face to praise your work, and it's all the encouragement you need, a palm on either side of her ass, spreading her hole wide—your tongue practically fucking her, devouring her tight little asshole so ravenously, slipping further and further inside. 

"F-fuck, baby, that tongue feels so good. Is this my reward for getting you to skip work?" Yeseo asks, half groan, half giggle as you work this sensitive area in ways that get the most obscene sounds pouring from her lips. She groans in absolute delight while your saliva flows freely down into her puckered hole, her cheeks surrounding your face, an absolute meal that has her scrambling for the bed sheets. 

"I'll quit my job tomorrow if I get to eat this fucking ass every single day," you utter through sloppy licks and frantic slurps, words all muffled, not letting up in the slightest from licking Yeseo open. The whimpers that slip through, and these shallow, shaky breaths, that’s all you care about, when this tight ring of flesh clenches harshly against your probing tongue.

“Just wait till you have this ass milking you dry for everything that dick's got," Yeseo says, a promise with a loud sigh, falling apart under your attentive, merciless mouth as you greedily tonguefuck her asshole, holding her nice and still. You could just about take her up on that, but you haven’t quite had your fill—not yet. 

So you keep those whimpers going, holding Yeseo in place as you continue to flick your tongue out in quick little strokes, licking her right where she's most sensitive. It's fucking perfect, how she helps spreads those asscheeks wide for you—like she can't get enough either, that twitching hole tightening each time it meets your tongue, tensing under your mouth, begging to stay filled. 

"God, y-you're so good at that," she gasps, arching that cute ass up higher, holding herself open even further when it's clear there's more pleasure than she can keep up with. There's this urgency in her voice, so impatient and eager—it drives you absolutely wild. 

But despite your selfish intentions to bury your tongue in Yeseo’s perfect ass forever, you can't ignore the persistent throbs your cock makes against the mattress—aching for relief, and you've got the perfect place for it to go.

When you pull back for air, you want nothing more than to shove your face back into those squishy cheeks—but the aching between your legs has other plans. You sit up on your knees, and admire all of Yeseo bent forward, presented like a meal, no question to where you're putting your stiff cock when you pop open that clear bottle. 

Now you’re in for the main event, but you can't help but give her delectable ass a smack, both hands grabbing those thick asscheeks. You take your time to spread the slick liquid around her rear entrance, and it makes all the anticipation almost unbearable as you work a finger inside that tight ring of muscle. She eases up to swallow you in, letting you test the warm, snug tightness bound to accommodate your cock that’s going to feel like heaven. 

"Fuck, your cock is going to stretch out my ass so much… so much better than that toy you saw me fucking." While you continue to prep her, Yeseo lets out the sweetest little sounds, relaxing almost instantly at your slick finger working its way inside, like she's done this more times than she can count.

"Yeah? Want me to ruin your pretty little asshole with this fucking cock?" And it's like her muscles know exactly what to do to hold you right in, hugging your digit, so you can barely contain yourself through this tight preview, thinking of how it'll feel clenching around your length. 

“Do you even have to ask?”

Yeseo’s cute little smile when she looks back gets all the blood pumping toward your throbbing hardness as you stroke the lube into your shaft, getting yourself nice and slick before aiming yourself right between her asscheeks. "Don't you worry, I'm fucking you until you can't walk straight."

Then, there's nothing else to do but slide your cock into her slicked up, eager hole. Slowly at first, as Yeseo braces for it—her eyes demanding every inch when you ease into the delicious, tight heat of her ass.

“My fucking god, baby—this ass is so much tighter than I ever imagined," you groan with a sharp breath, clutching her shapely hips while you rest your cock fully sheathed inside, not daring to move. You're not even sure if you can pull back out, completely overwhelmed at just how intense this grip is, and when you look down to see it all disappear—god, it's maddening. 

Nearly doubling over from pleasure, all rational thought gets driven out with that tight warmth gripping your cock so hard it steals your breath away. 

"Are you going to fuck my ass or just stare at it?" Yeseo asks, and you're tempted to do the latter, but she jerks her body backward to jumpstart the whole thing. When you pull out in one fluid motion, you have to stop for a second to admire her slick little hole stretching around the thickness of your shaft, before you slam back into the hilt. 

It takes little time for your cock to stretch that greedy asshole out as Yeseo welcomes in each thrust working her open, your hips making her cheeks jiggle when they meet. Looking back, she grins with bliss, a groan accompanying every pump as she adjusts to your size, inviting your cock into her ass with a perfect arch of her back. "Come on—show me how much you really love this ass, give me everything you’ve got.” 

Just like that, your hips get rougher. Yeseo welcomes this stretch that stuffs her so full, deeper each time your shaft pounds into her tightest opening, lost in lust while she clutches at the sheets, nails digging in for dear life. 

"There you go, baby, give me that fucking cock,“ she pleads with each snap of your hips, her ass crashing against you. So the rougher you get, the more she whines out for more—this sweet little innocent thing reduced to absolute sin, nothing but curses and groans leaving her parted lips. 

And while you watch her delicious ass swallow up all that hard cock, you can't help but smack it, greedily grabbing a handful of flesh before letting your palm fly again, marking up both pale cheeks with these beautiful red handprints. Hard, repeatedly, every harsh impact jostles those reddened cheeks as she takes your rapid thrusts into that impossibly tight asshole, clenching around after each smack to the sore flesh. 

"Make it hurt, make my ass fucking sting, please," she demands so desperately, and it only takes a few more harsh slaps to leave her completely incoherent. 

You pound into Yeseo with such reckless abandon until your carnal desires take over. Those tender cheeks bounce hypnotically, the rhythm of your hips in sync with every single slap across the delicate flesh. “Baby—fuck, this ass feels incredible. Makes my cock feel so goddamn good.” You're relentless—not just because you can’t help yourself, but because she can’t stop letting out the most pathetic little whimpers that cry for more. 

Your pace picks right up, so frantic, each slam deep enough to send those soft cheeks rippling, every last thrust filling her up so nicely. What’s even better is the beautiful red tint spreading across that backside, and the delicious sound of your palm hitting flesh—again, and again, and again. 

"Ah—fuck, shit, right there, oh my fucking god—" It's impossible to stop looking at this wrecked little hole as Yeseo takes your dick without mercy, earning every bit of the relentless stretch she begs for. Your vigorous thrusts get you so worked up, that you pull out and spread that reddened ass just to savor the view, gaping so beautifully and desperate to get full again—

Yeseo practically sobs when you shove your hard cock all the way back in balls fucking deep, which makes her bite down on the sheets, as if there's anything that'll muffle her screams when you're fucking her this hard.

"So good, so fucking good, your cock is fucking perfect and I don't ever want it to leave my ass," Yeseo cries out into the mattress, not making the slightest attempt to remain composed anymore. The poor bed absorbs every creak and slam, the whole frame shaking under your forceful thrusts that threaten to collapse the whole thing.

And Yeseo is right there, telling you how fucking good your cock is, that small body all yours to use how you please. Without hesitation, you keep giving her what she wants, keep giving this tight little asshole the pummeling it deserves—just listening to the squeal in her voice as you pound her the way that she absolutely desires it.

So there's no reason to stop when she's clearly aching for more, unable to get enough of how easily your cock tears her to pieces with every single thrust. All she can do is brace for the next one when your shaft hits so fucking deep—and then you crash down all your weight on top of her tiny frame, pinning her flat against the bed. so your cock somehow plunges even deeper into her asshole.

“F-fuck!” You reach such depths Yeseo could never hit with any toy, and she takes it all, face down, with unwavering lust that powers the motions of your hips until it's a struggle for either of you to think straight.

"Baby, this ass—I'd ruin my whole fucking career for this ass," you pant out through uneven breaths, continuing the dizzying pace that has no right feeling this good, pumping into her with every last thing you’ve got until it all becomes a blur. 

Yeseo, she’s clenching so fucking tight that each thrust might be your last, your hips every bit merciless, crashing against the soft flesh of her perfect ass to gather up the most desperate cries. 

"Fuck, that’s just what I want, so deep inside me,“ she struggles to say, downright delirious, and you're not far off, unsure how much more you can take of this, your balls feeling so tight as you pound and pound into that warm hole. In fact, you can tell there's no sense in even holding it in at this point, gathering up that final bit of momentum, making every single thrust count before you feel that release boiling up—

At the last possible second you pull out, eyes focused intently on her ruined little asshole that gapes so perfectly before Yeseo follows you off the bed and onto the floor. She drops to her knees, back against the side of the mattress and stares expectantly, while you aim inches away toward her beautiful, sweat-covered face, furiously stroking. 

Your hand tangles up in her hair, giving a hard tug that forces her chin up. It's not the pleasure that brings you closer to the brink, it's the sight of her doe-eyed stare, all this innocence and sin rolled together that begs for your load without saying a word. 

Yeseo gazes up with her lips open, tongue lolling out, so beautifully obedient, waiting for you to unload. "Go on, baby—fucking explode all over this pretty fucking face," Yeseo urges, and it's the way she looks at you, that mesmerizing, seductive eye contact that you can’t take it any longer. 

In an instant, your release hits, with all this built-up tension that just empties out with a huge shot of your load streaking across the bridge of her nose, coating those cute cheeks. Yeseo doesn't even flinch as it splatters across her features, hot and thick, all the way up to her forehead, eyes so bright with this lewd, shameless gaze as you glaze her.

You spill everything from your balls like you’ve gone weeks without release, groaning as you shoot more massive streaks everywhere, even some getting caught in her lashes. This thick trail drips down to her lips as she just opens her mouth and lets it fall onto her hungry little tongue, a taste she’s been dying for. 

She’s never looked so good. 

After the last drop hits her mouth, it's already dripping down her chin, this pretty, porcelain skin painted so vividly. Yeseo’s a gorgeous mess, and you keep these weak pumps going, pumping it all out to ensure she’s covered as can be before her tongue collects your load settling around her messy lips, returning back to that cum-stained smile.

"So fucking good, you taste even better than I thought.” 

And then you nearly topple over when she sucks at the tip until you're cleaned off, making sure every drop is drained. Yeseo holds your hips to keep you still, lips tight around your sensitive cockhead, looking so goddamn gorgeous with your load all over that face.

“Jesus, fuck—“ you say, feeling lightheaded, the impact of your orgasm still hitting like a train. Yeseo just smiles through it all, such a perfect image that you'll never get out of your head. 

The bed beside you has never looked so welcoming, and while you recover, you hear a click and shuffling next to you. But you know what it is by this point, a new set of pictures with Yeseo’s face fucking glazed, ready to be sent to whoever wants to pad her bank account.

"I feel like I should get a cut now," you say with a tired smile, trying to catch your breath.

"Pounding my ass like that wasn't payment enough?" Yeseo fires back, but her tone is all soft and sweet as she saunters over, so much energy left in that perfect body compared to your spent state. "It's not my fault you cum so much..." 

"Isn't it exactly that? Weren't you begging me to cum inside you the first time?" 

"I think I liked you better when you were shy." Yeseo sticks her tongue out and giggles, disappearing into the bathroom. "I'm going to get cleaned up. And take more pictures while I'm at it."

By the time Yeseo returns from the bathroom, you're about ready to pass out, having fallen onto the pillows in total exhaustion. When your eyes open back up, she's inches away from your face, looking all clean and barefaced. "Are you really falling asleep like that without me?"

"You wore me out." 

"I did what?” she asks incredulously, head tilted in confusion. “You're the one who fucked me senseless. I can still feel how sore my ass is when I sit down..." 

"Hey, you asked for that. Also like…twenty other things." 

"Guilty. Guess I’m a little greedy.” 

With a content sigh, Yeseo throws an arm and leg over, cuddling up right against you. You're too tired to even move, while this bubbly girl seems she could go the rest of the night. But maybe you're not entirely worn out as her perfect little body presses up against your chest, those sweet lips pouting, looking so irresistibly delicious. And before you fall asleep, you need to have just one more taste of those lips.

[targaryenluvs]

OUR LITTLE DOVE

pairings: dark!lucy gray x fem!reader, dark!coriolanus snow x fem!reader, coriolanus snow x lucy gray

summary: you reunite with your dear songbird after the games, but it seems the capitol has followed her home, and taken an interest in the two of you. but it seems lucy gray is willing to share you with a certain peacekeeper, even if you aren’t.

warnings: crazy lucy n corio conspiring like evil doers, manipulation, chasing, primal play?? is that what is called idk corio enjoys hunting your ass down, kidnapping, drugging, forced into accepting a third partner?? nc touching, abuse of power (peacekeeper), power dynamics, kinda cheating (lucy n corio), guilt-trip, jealousy, threatening, self doubt and relationship problems, murder, betrayal

word count: 3.0k

a/n: lol i complain about wanting to write fluff but all my good ideas r so dark 😭 someone needs to give me tips on how to write girls cuz i have no experience would be easier if i was gay boooo!!

he was like a shadow, stuck to your back, always.

you’d complained to lucy numerous times that you didn’t feel comfortable around him when she played at the hob, knowing he’d be there, in the crowd. “sweetie, he was my mentor. he helped me so much in the games, i wouldn’t be here without him. you love me don’t you? so you need to learn to love him too, he’s a good friend a mine. i love you and i gotta get to the stage baby.” she explained as she ran around getting herself and the covey ready.

you were always front row. wanting to be as close to lucy as possible. she looked especially majestic tonight with flowers in her hair. as you listened to her sing you’d managed to forget about the certain blonde peacekeeper near the back. but he hadn’t forgotten about you, nor lucy.

you’d left to get a drink and you’d came back to an unfamiliar tune. you usually knew every song being played off by heart but this was new.

Everyone's born as clean as a whistle

As fresh as a daisy

And not a bit crazy

Staying that way's a hard row for hoeing

she sounded as angelic as usual and the crowd around you seemed entranced.

As rough as a briar

Like walking through fire

This world, it's dark

This world, it's scary

lucy smiled at you once, just once. which threw you off since you usually got a bunch. especially during new songs and songs about you. was this not also about you?

I've taken some hits, so

No wonder I'm wary It's why

I need you

so it is about me! you thought as you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to sway to the music and singing. you’d hoped you wouldn’t miss a smile headed your way.

You're as pure as the driven snow

your eyes flew open as you stared at lucy, she was looking past you and to the peacekeeper. to coriolanus snow. you’d always been a rational person, you prided yourself on restraint but that restraint was hanging on by a thread. you wanted to jam a beer bottle into his neck. lucy was your girlfriend not his. and yet he smiled stupidly towards her as she sang and you could feel your heart clawing its way up. best to leave now rather than stay and hear more of the ever so driven man.

your head was spinning as you slumped to the floor, in one of your finest dresses yet worst mental states. of course, something had formed between the two. she was in the goddamn hunger games and he was her mentor. trauma bonding? he quite literally saved her life, coached her and you did what? sat at home and hoped.

hope could only get you so far.

your hope and faith in lucy gray baird was dwindling as her lyrics swirled in your head. of course she loved him. who wouldn’t? the man was undeniably eye catching. a capitol man. but you’d always imagined lucy staying away from the capitol, despising them. but maybe it wasn’t the captiol part but the man part. maybe she wanted a true life, a home, marriage and children and everything she could wish for.

what on earth could you provide her with?

“y/n?” it sure as hell wasn’t lucy calling out for you and you knew that. coriolanus’s reflection was prominent in the puddle before you as he neared. great, you sneered, would love to get to know you mr peacekeeper. please tell me how you stole my lovely girlfriend from me!

your chest felt oh so heavy as you heard his footsteps in the gravel, determined and unwavering as he made his way to your slumped body. “what do you want? you wanna gloat?” coriolanus stopped in his tracks, gloat? “why would i gloat?” you looked up at him annoyed, “rub it in my face. you practically stole my girlfriend from me.” coriolanus laughed. actually laughed and it made you want to strangle him with his stupid dog tags.

“sweetheart.” vomit. you wanted to vomit. maybe choking and dying on your vomit would be less embarrassing then this. why on earth was this fuck head calling you his sweetheart. “fuck off.”

you didn’t see him coming. and you certainly didn’t expect his demeanour to snap. but the large hand tangled in your open hair was a big slap in the face to your unreadiness. “you of all people don’t get to talk to me like that. do you know who you’re talking to?” you could hear his perfect porcelain teeth grinding at your words. god this man couldn’t handle an insult. wuss.

“what the hell is your- ow! problem!” you yelped as he dragged you into an alleyway. “you need to learn how to respect your superiors. if you’re nice to me, i can make your life easier. doesn’t it hurt? not being able to fully provide for your family? seeing them struggle? do you really think disrespecting a peacekeeper is going to help? i suggest you straighten your act and thank me for even looking your way. there are plenty of other girls here.”

but he didn’t want those other girls. he wanted you. you with the teary eyes and messy hair. you who he’d been seeing in his dreams and during the day. you with the kind smile and curious eyes. you who were so sweet and pretty but mean when need be. the y/n who was stupid enough to spit such hateful words at a peacekeeper. but he’d teach you. whether it be with words and lessons or actions and bruises. you’d learn your place, by his side and lucy’s, and underneath. but with such fearful, brown doe eyes watering up infront of him, the girl he’d heard oh so much about from lucy. how could he refrain from indulging?

his hand reached out to wipe away the few stray tears that fell as his left extended towards your right, which was clutching your head, where he’d grabbed you. “shh, let me help you.” your hand slowly retracted as your heart ran a marathon. the man was obviously unstable, going from a deceptively caring man to violent. coriolanus smiled at your actions, and it freaked you out. he caressed your scalp in an attempt to soothe, “good girl.” he cooed as your apparent saviour approached.

“sweetie?” lucy called out to you as coriolanus withdrew from your personal space. he walked over to her and she let him. he held her hand and spoke with, love? his voice was soft and comforting, his thumb again caressing the back of her hand as they talked, whispered, plotted? god knows, all you wanted was to leave.

was this your chance?

you tested the waters, slow and calculated movements as lucy nodded in agreement with him. but by the time they were done speaking you’d bolted.

but you sure as hell weren’t getting far with these two on your tail, poor y/n l/n. a little dove trying to spread her wings but they were bound to be clipped.

your feet were throbbing and begging for you to slow down. but your brain was in charge for once, your heart which yearned for your dear songbird pushed to the side as your head screamed and urged you to go. she was in league with him apparently. her seeing him corner you and not even batting an eyelash. did she truly care for you so little? did she want to rid herself of you? she could’ve broken up with you and let that be it. maybe the games had twisted her head.

even as you believed yourself to be gaining distance from the two you could hear the not-so distant steps of determined pursuit, headed your way. how would they kill you? slow and intimate? hasty and brutal?

“if you stop running now we won’t be mad little dove!” lucy shouted in warning as you felt yourself momentarily slow at her words. traitor. you thought to yourself as your body involuntary listened, she still had an affect on you. “she’s right, we love you, we won’t hurt you. unless we have to, don’t give us our reasons.”

“shut up!” you screamed. god, i know we haven’t talked in a while. last minute efforts right? maybe he’d listen to you, save you from your tormentors. you should’ve kept your head clear, focused on running. focused on your surroundings and if you had, you would’ve noticed the nearing tree roots, thick and protruding from the ground, ready to knock you down.

you crawled behind the tree, trying to catch your breath as your hands worked tirelessly to provide some form of relief to your aching ankle.

crack.

you’d been found. you fucked up.

“our little dove, ever the sprinter.”

his words had you lurching forwards in an attempt of fleeing but lucy’s cold hand on your ankle dragged protests and cries from your throat as well as you, back to them. “you should’ve listened before, we would’ve been nice. given you some time to adjust, but you can’t sit and think for a second can you?” coriolanus mocked as his hand trailed up your un-injured leg, “that’s okay, you won’t be doing much thinking from now on. we’ll be taking care of you, since you obviously can’t take care a’ yourself baby.” lucy’s voice was saccharine, like honey, and her smile was even sweeter. the familiarity and comfort of her presence was intoxicating, you felt at peace on one side and the other wanted to jump off a cliff. she lowered your guard and coriolanus slithered right in.

the prick in the side of your neck wasn’t painful, but their words were. “you’re with us now, we’ll take care of you, we promise.” and you were stuck, stuck with them for god knows how long.

you blinked away the sleep in your eyes, adjusting to the room. maybe they had killed you? in their own twisted way they’d keep you forever, in their memories and soul. coriolanus and lucy’s voices swam around your head and blended together. you were wrong. yay.

“it’s a bit early for katniss, even if it’s one of her favourites.”

“she should eat something better.”

“better? don’t go all capitol on me now corio.”

he was smiling, you could tell.

“never lucy gray. but she’ll be weak for a few days, proper meals will help her regain some strength.”

you picked your head up and looked through the window, the lake was evident.

“alright, you go grab it and i’ll stay here.”

“why? so you can get more time with her? if anyone should get extra time it’s me.”

“now who was her partner first? oh that’s right, me. you’re acting as if i’m gonna pick her up and run away. if you’re that scared than we’ll both go. take her with us.”

coriolanus’s head whipped towards the cabin and you quickly flopped back down on the bed. you shut your eyes as you heard the door creak open. “gosh, doesn’t she look pretty?” lucy asked, knowing the answer already. “so calm, i liked her better when she was crying.” lucy hit him, “coriolanus snow!” he stroked the side of your face and you had to resist from turning your head and biting his fingers off.

“little dove.” your eyes opened again, turning your head his way tiredly. “we need to get some supplies okay?” you nodded as lucy went outside to gather the baskets she’d left out earlier on to dry. coriolanus’s hand dug into your cheeks as he forced you to look at him, “i told you i’d make you respect me. now listen, if you try anything when we’re in town i will never let you forget it. you’ll know who you belong to every single day. maybe i’ll pay your family a visit? an appointment with the hanging tree for being rebels? stealing?”

you shook your head violently as you began to cry, “you don’t want that? didn’t think so. you listen to me and everything will be fine. your family will get daily help and weekly groceries. they’ll never go hungry again. all thanks to their sweet little girl. lucy’s too nice, but don’t think for a second she’ll save you from me. you’re mine and if you try anything.” he leaned in to whisper, “i’ll strangle her with my bare hands infront of you.” his words were meant to scare you, and they did. but don’t you know? coriolanus snow doesn’t need a reason to do bad things.

coriolanus was wicked and ruthless when it came to what he wanted, if you had any hope of trying to get through this then you’d need lucy’s attention and help. so you nodded. “words sweetheart.” you swallowed your pride, your dignity, and you shook hands with the devil.

“yes, i’ll do what you say.” he straightened up, his white shirt a contrast to his dark thoughts.

“y’all ready to go?” lucy questioned as coriolanus grinned, “yes, yes we are.” he lifted you up and helped you dress, you hadn’t realised the fact that you were only dressed in his own white shirt, dress to you. he handled you like you were the most delicate object. as if he wasn’t hell bent on breaking you, over and over again. till you were fit to his standards. the captiol standards. the snow standards.

his, his, his.

with how obedient you were, he figured you’d do well in the capitol. which was exactly where he was meaning to bring you.

lucy walked in front of the two of you as you made your way through the woods. coriolanus’s hand was glued to your waist as he held you close, afraid to let go. you were at flight risk of course. his grip was tight and bruising. lucy’s humming distracted you at times, if you were delusional enough you could imagine it to be the two of you. your brothers far infront and the covey following. after an amazing afternoon at the lake, heading home for dinner, maybe a performance or the night shift.

your daydreaming was interrupted when you clocked coriolanus’s missing hand from your waist, and his arm now around lucy grays throat.

don’t you remember? you’d do well in the capitol! you were his! but not entirely, no.

not with her in the way.

you were frozen in place as lucy clawed at him before reaching out for you. a plea, a cry for help and aid yet you stood stuck in fear. a minute, two. she’d put up a strong fight, especially when you ran towards the two, pushing and shoving at coriolanus to let her go. but again, you fucked up.

here lies lucy gray baird, singer, victor, psycho.

obsessed? madly in love? you couldn’t think of another word, and as much as you wished to forget her, forget how she’d practically allowed another man into your relationship and let him kidnap you. her lifeless face and hollow eyes made your heart clench. but soon enough she was rolled over, thrown in a pre-made hole and buried. she’d survived the games but no one survived coriolanus snow.

“don’t forget what i said. don’t forget what you agreed to. you said you’d do as i say, i’m telling you to get up and follow me. we’re leaving district 12.” your face was painted with confusion as coriolanus clutched your face, “i’m going back, and you’re coming with me. don’t ask questions, just do as i say.”

and you did.

when he had you say goodbye to your family, a courtesy, a privilege he’d granted you. you kept it short and sweet, no questions just hugs and false promises of return.

when he ushered you onto the train and he wanted you to sit and be silent, you did.

through his time at the university, he wanted you close to him, living with him. and you did.

through his presidency campaign he wanted for you to charm sponsors and entice newcomers. you did.

when he wanted to marry you in a grand spectacle infront of the captiol and dress you up, you did as he asked.

when he held you down on your wedding night after tearing your dress off, biting and marking you down all over, pushing you down to your knees and took you all over the house, asking you to give yourself to him as if he didn’t take you anyways, you did.

you had no idea why at this point.

for your family? who hadn’t reached out in so long, even when they promised to talk to you every day? coriolanus had them all arrested, punished and hung for inciting riots and uprisings.

for your friends whom listened to your concerns of the capitol peacekeeper who hovered and didn’t make you feel crazy? each of them ended up dead in many different ways, hung, shot, a mugging gone wrong.

you didn’t know at this point and when you looked in the mirror you didn’t recognise the girl who stared back. a captiol sheep, dressed up in the finest silk dresses and slick heels yet the filth underneath the finery, jewels, and makeup weighed you down. each time he touched you, kissed you, fucked you, it felt like a peace of yourself was thrown away.

and as you clutched your swelling stomach, you couldn’t help but feel pity for baby number four.

maybe you’d grow up and find love.

maybe i’ll be able to take you all away from him.

maybe we’ll heal.

you thought, but in the back of your head, a little voice wouldn’t shut up.

you’ll always be his little dove.

[natalievoncatte]

Kara knows, and that’s the problem.

She knows.

How does she know?

To put it simply, she’s Kryptonian. More specifically: a Kryptonian under a yellow sun, whose wavelengths of light bring forth her genetic heritage when she basks in its rays. If long lost Rao was once her father, Sol is her mother, raising her up to be all that she can be. A creation of a lost super-science, a power to rival gods, a force that made the Guardians tremble in their emerald tower.

Kara can see everything.

The world is alive with light. It cascades and bounces and caroms off of everything. More than that, Kara’s world is bathed in a thousand thousand hues the human eye will never know. When she looks at a person she can see the electrical conductivity of their skin and the heat bloom of their flesh and a myriad of other details, some of which other humans can pick up on a subconscious level, others that humans haven’t even discovered yet.

Kara can hear everything.

She can hear dog whistles and butterfly wings beating and the secret language of cats. She can hear the crackle of radio waves beating the atmosphere and the music of the spheres. She can memorize human heartbeats and pick out the slightest variation, the tiniest wobble that the owner of the heart never feels.

Kara can smell everything. She can sift between the scents of ingredients in her honey bun, detect poisons in a friend’s wine or flowers in a park half a state away. Sharks would be jealous of her. She can scent people but also their moods; fear smells horrific, sickly sweet and rotten. Joy smells hot and bold. When someone walks in the room, she can tell what they had for breakfast, smell of they’re sick, pick out the fragrances of their emotions.

Kara can feel everything. A touch can betray or affirm. To hear a heartbeat is one thing, to feel it another. Her fingertips can read the surface of another’s skin like braille and she can detect the slightest changes in temperature or perspiration, feel the thrum of contentment or fear in an embrace. Her touch is not dulled by her invulnerability. It as sensitive as her other senses.

Kara can remember everything. The day she stepped from her pod into the brilliant golden sunlight beneath a blue sky was the last time she would every forget; her now empowered brain can recall events in the finest detail, down to the soft timbre of another’s voice or the way her hair fell over her shoulder or the softness in her gaze. And so Kara’s memory is hers to be kept forever, never to lose the sight of her.

That is how Kara knows, and knowing that Lena Luthor loves her is a pain so terrible that she almost wishes she could be spared that pain. When Lena sees Kara, her heart leaps and her breath softens and she comes alive with light, bathed in an auric glow more beautiful than a red sunrise. Kara wishes that Lena could see herself as Kara sees her. Radiant, angelic, a little holy.

Lena loves Kara Danvers, the bumbling awkward nerdy shy girl from Vaguely Canada who brings her burgers and donuts and OTPs.

She doesn’t love Supergirl and Kara doesn’t think she could.

That’s how the torture happens. Kara’s infinite perception becomes a self-imposed exile. She sees and smells the way James lusts after Lena, right in front of her. Baffled, she listens to the calm in her heart when they kiss and once she wakes frantically in the night, reaching about to sift through the city soundscape when she hears Lena’s voice cry out, then the sound of Lena’s heart racing and other sounds, and not for the first time, she pleads with a god she doesn’t know to make her human and free her from this curse.

She seeks feeling of her own. It’s pleasant enough but it lacks something undefinable, like a pleasant chocolate cake that becomes unbearable because she could have had something far sweeter and more filling instead. He tries in a fumbling way but it’s to please his own ego more than sate her desire. Then one day he is gone and in his absence all Kara can feel is a dull numbness, a ragged wound with all the nerves scraped out so that only a dull absence has been left behind, leaving her broken in a way that cannot be defined much less repaired.

Kara cannot help but snap her attention to the sound of Lena growing agitated, no matter how distant or minor. She hears harsh words and the heavy thud of a limo door closing and hears the sharp intake of breath as James realizes the mistake he’s made, and though he is her friend and he matters to him she feels a feral, possessive joy that borders on the cruel. It is a hard feeling, a red feeling, a sharp smelling mean feeling that tastes cold on her tongue, this resentment of the man for having a pale shadow of what she could have but wouldn’t.

Lena loves Kara Danvers and Kara Danvers loves her back, but she can never know because to know she must know all of her. Know the Other, the Super, the Alien.

Kara is two people and one of those people has been, well, a bitch.

Because Kara feels spending else. A green feeling, a sick feeling, the feeling of blades flensing flesh from bone while her veins turn to glass and her body burns to ash, the shocking pain of a little piece of home. A little piece that Lena made and didn’t tell her, and Kara makes the worst mistake.

She stops being Supergirl and is just Kara Danvers in a colorful suit, angrily refusing to ask Lena the question: I love you, how could you do this to me?

She does love her. She loves her laugh and her secret smiles and how soft she looks when she’s deep in thought. She loves the pain in her, the mirror of her own. She cherishes it as she wants hers to be cherished, held close by someone who knows what it’s like to watch your world explode or slip beneath still waters and be gone forever. She knows what it’s like to wonder what could have been and know the price you paid for what you have now.

She wants Lena so terribly that she’d almost choose the pain of Kryptonite instead of an eternity of this longing. She needs her, craves her, thirsts for her.

One night Kara realizes what she’s been doomed to. Another will succeed where James failed, and Kara will be spared none of it, and it will endure forever. She will carry memories of Lena in another’s arms into the sun dies.

No.

“I don’t know why I agreed to this,” Lena says.

Kara -Supergirl- says nothing at first.

“I have to fly you.”

Lena nods. She’s doing this for Kara, because Kara asked. When Supergirl extends a hand, Lena takes it and Kara gently lifts her from the ground into a bridal carry, and they fly.

The trip takes nearly an hour. Kara can’t fly too fast or too high. Lena accepts it without complaint.

They land far north of National City, where the warmer climate yields to deciduous rainforest. Kara brings them down on a bare hilltop, an island in a vast ocean of trees. Nearby on a folding table is a basket. It might be important later or it might not. She might have a life of joy or she might spend the rest of forever in a wasteland, waking each day to grief.

There’s only one way to find out. Part of her, the part that hopes, the part that makes her Supergirl, believes in this, in herself, in this moment. She has to, because the chain of events that led her here, flung across endless space to stand in starlight with the most beautiful woman in this world, it demands that it happen. This is fate. It has to be.

Supergirl stands beside Lena. She raises an arm and points.

“There. Second star on the left, and straight on till morning.”

Lena quirks an eyebrow and looks at her.

“You brought me out here for this?”

“Do you see that red light?” Kara asks. “It’s very faint. I don’t know if a human can see it or not.”

“I just see stars.”

“It’s Rao, my sun. I can see him. If I had a powerful enough telescope, I could see it. Krypton. The explosion won’t be visible to Earth for a thousand years.”

Lena looks up, her features bathed in moonlight- alive with a chaotic explosion of hues she’ll never see. She blazes in the night, her eyes a kaleidoscope from which Kara can never truly look away. She’s a rainbow.

Kara falters. Whatever she does tonight, this is it. This is forever.

“You said Kara would meet me here,” Lena says.

“Wait here, please.”

Kara turns quickly and walks into the dark, cape spreading behind her. Once she’s out of sight, she changes without restraining her speed, and walks back to Lena in a hoodie and leggings, hair in a loose ponytail and the back of her neck and hands in her pockets.

She walks back to Lena and stands beside her.

“Hello, Kara.”

“Hi, Lena.”

There is a tense silence between them. Kara devours the moment, consumes it so it will live forever, just in case this is the last time she sees Lena.

“We’re not far from the reservoir,” says Lena. “Why did you ask Supergirl to bring us here?”

Kara swallows hard. “I realized something really important near here.”

Lena turns to her. “What was that?”

“That there was someone who mattered to me a lot, and that I was willing to risk a lot to protect her. There was a moment where I thought I was going to have time make a choice, you or the chemicals. I didn’t have to but I would have. I would have picked you. I will always pick you. I can’t help it.”

Lena is not stunned. Her heart doesn’t miss a beat, but Kara can sense her apprehension, her fear, and something deeper than that.

“You’re Supergirl.”

Kara lets out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and her legs wobble. There it is. It’s done. She’s free.

“I should have told you sooner.”

“You should have. You should have told me when we fought about the Kryptonite. I thought you would, hoped you would. I wanted you to so desperately, wanted you to trust me.”

Kara’s heart sinks.

“Wait, you knew? How?”

Lena laughs softly.

“The way you touch me. When you pick me up and carry me somewhere, you have this way about you. When I’m in your arms I feel like I’m the most precious thing in the world.”

“You are,” Kara says.

“That and you told me you flew to my office on a bus.”

Kara makes a small, choked sound.

“Oh.”

Lena scuffs the heel of her boot against the ground.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I was scared. I thought if I did, you’d see it as a confrontation and feel threatened. What about you?”

“I’m Kara. Supergirl is something I do, not what I am. When I’m with you I’m just me. I lose that with everyone when they find out. Kara isn’t my secret identity. Supergirl is. I’m just me. I just want to be me, I need to be me, and when I’m with you I am most myself. It’s like laying down all my burdens.”

“Same,” Lena said, softly. “You’re the only one who doesn’t treat me like an extension of my brother.”

Kara sighed. “Should we talk about the Kryptonite?”

“No,” Lena says. “Fuck the Kryptonite. Why’d you bring me out here?”

“To tell you.”

“Great, you told me. What did you think would happen next?”

“I thought you’d be mad.”

Lena nods and seems to think about that for a moment. Her pulse has quickened and her jaw is tight.

“Let me ask you a different question. What did you want to happen?”

Kara swallowed hard. “What I wanted was… for us to make up. Be friends. Work it out. I don’t want to lose you.”

Lena turns and looks at her.

“Bullshit.”

Kara flinches.

“That’s bullshit, Kara, and we both know it. You’re a terrible liar. I wouldn’t be surprised if half the staff at CatCo know who you are. Don’t lie to me. Please. Give me the truth.”

Kara looks up briefly, past Lena. She sees that faint red glow and her heart swells in her chest.

“I love you. That’s the truth. I’ve been in love with you probably since our first lunch together and I want you so badly that I can’t breathe when I think about it. I know a dozen languages and half of them aren’t from Earth, and there aren’t enough words in all of them to tell you how kind and wonderful and beautiful you are. I love you so much that sometimes I think,” Kara fights the tightening of her throat, “I think I’m almost glad that I’m here and not back up there under that red glow. I don’t think I could choose a life without you.”

Lena lets out a long breath and Kara is bombarded with sensations. Lena’s pulse races and her shoulders relax and her skin blooms with an ethereal luminous riot of color.

“I’ll never lie to you again. I promise.”

Kara can taste everything.

Right now the only thing she can taste is Lena.

[wonysugar]

fuck you stupid | ning yizhuo

synopsis : you thought you’d seen it all with her, but no, she somehow managed to surprise you even further.

pairing : bimbo!ningning x fem!reader

genre : bffs to... fwb?? idk they just fuck,, so obviously smut too! xx

tags : yall got lost help, fingering, degradation, belittling, dumbification, car sex, she's so stupid but she fucks you good so it's okay, very slight cunnilingus, she slaps you like once so impact play!

warnings : none!

word count : 1.6k

you, y/n l/n, weren’t exactly smart, but you also weren’t exactly stupid. like yeah, you weren’t a genius per se, but it’s not like you were brain dead either. average was the term you always used to describe your intelligence.

you unfortunately couldn’t say the same about ning yizhuo, your best friend. 

you loved her, like that’s your bitch, of course you love her! however, you’d be lying if you said that she was intellectually capable, because she just wasn’t. god, she was just so, so painfully stupid?? clumsy??? careless???? all of the above applied when it came to this woman. not even to be mean or anything of the sorts, just, yknow… natural selection at its finest.

she was aware of that, though, and even thrived in being the self proclaimed bimbo everyone knew and loved. (to which you wholeheartedly agree with, by the way) and honestly? you just couldn’t stop teasing her about it whenever you two hung out. things similar to “stupid hoe” and “dumbass” always escaping your mouth as you two laughed, probably moments after she bumped onto something on the sidewalk whilst spilling all the tea to you. 

in summary, she’s done stupid shit before, but nothing, nothing could ever top what she had done that day.

the day she got the both of you lost in some random parking lot at like, 2 am.

“ning, we’re fucking lost.” you told her, eyebrows furrowed in frustration as you watched her giggle nervously.

she grabbed her cellphone and hovered her finger over the power button, “oh come on y/n don’t be like that, i can just go on google maps and we’ll be out of here in no ti-“

a black screen.

she cleared her throat hesitantly, sighed, then pressed the button again.

nothing.

she kept doing that, giving longer presses to the side of her phone in hopes of a miracle . your patience was running thin and you were quite frankly not far from panicking.

after the 27th-ish try, you finally snapped at her.

“fucking hell ning do you not charge your damn phone??” 

“sorry that i forgot to?” 

oh she had to be joking. 

“girl oh my god what the fuck?? we’ll stay stuck here for only god knows how long and it’s all gonna be because ‘ning yizhuo forgot to charge her phone beforehand’ for fuck’s sake.” you closed your eyes and pinched the bridge of your nose in exasperation. trying to calm down, you ignored ning’s gaze.

her stupid annoying yapping wasn’t helping at all. like, at all.

“oh so we’re once again blaming me, got it. y/n you didn’t even bring your own phone, how do you have the audacity to put the blame on me.” she said back, her eyebrow raised up as she threw her phone down on her skirt, sighing exasperatedly. 

“because someone told me it was her turn to get the aux.”

“where in that sentence did i ever tell you not to bring your phone??”

“god, ning just- just stay quiet. okay? just- please shut up, i’m trying to think. we can’t rely on you for anything.” you told her, exasperated.

in response, she scoffed, “no?? no i won’t, actually. you’re always putting the blame on me and it’s seriously starting to piss me the fuck off. yeah i’m a bimbo, whatever, but does that mean that you have to talk to me like i only have two barely functioning brain cells??” 

“oh please, saying you have two functioning brain cells would be wayy too generous. you’re always doing the stupidest shit out of the two of us. i mean fuck, you literally drove us here, in the middle of nowhere. you’re not a bimbo, you’re just fucking dumb, ning.”

when you looked back at her, she seemed hurt. like, 

a wave of guilt quickly washed over you upon seeing her pained, pained expression. she looked into your eyes, frustration and sadness clearly showing into her own. yeah, she looked pissed. you wanted to apologize almost immediately, and you were going to, 

if she didn’t suddenly press her lips onto yours before you could even get a word out. 

-

how do best friends make up after a fight?

usually, they talk it out, they go out, hug it out then get milkshakes or whatever, hell, sometimes they just go a day or two without talking then eventually forget about it.

this? this was none of that.

since she planted a kiss on your lips, you, instead of doing anything stated above, were fucking.

like, yeahh you were still lost, but at least you were getting your pussy ravaged. the situation could be handled later; when you weren’t drenched.

throwing your head back as you moaned out ning’s name, you were straddling her in the backseat of her car, feeling her two fingers deep inside you and stretching you out. she looked up at you with lustfully hooded eyes as she kissed and left very visible marks all over your neck, all the way down to your collarbone, her free hand fondling your tits, lazily playing with the nipple. 

“f-fuck ning keep going i’m sososo close- fuckfuckfuck..” feeling yourself getting pushed closer to the edge by the friction you felt, you bucked your hips faster onto her digits. the knot tying in your stomach felt like it would’ve snapped any second now, that is,

until she stopped moving her fingers altogether.

frustrated, you whined loudly, “ninggg please let me cum pleaseplease-” 

“oh yeah? so now you wanna rely on me for something, and it’s to make you cum?” she laughed. “fucking slut. i’ll make you cum whenever i want to, got it, bitch?” she added, pressing her thumb on your swollen throbbing clit, smirking condescendingly and watching how pretty you looked when pleasure contorted your face.

you unintentionally clenched at her words, nodding shamefully. it was embarrassing enough having your best friend knuckles deep inside of you, having her call you names and whatnot, but the real embarrassing part? 

enjoying it thoroughly.

she knew this, she knew she had you wrapped around her finger at that moment and oh was it such a power trip for her. seeing you be so needy for her touch, you almost started riding her fingers yourself, too. she was always the one being treated like a dumb bitch, it was nice being on the other side of things, for a change. 

she kept twisting and pulling on your nipple with her free hand as she slowly started to slide her fingers up and down your walls again, giggling and paying close attention to how your body shook and twitched at each and every one of her slow movements. what a sight to see. 

“you like being fucked stupid hm?”

and that’s what she did,

seconds,

minutes,

what felt likes hours,

you were sloppily bouncing and grinding on her fingers, speed ranging from a painful slowness to an overwhelming rapidity. 

you gripped her arms tightly, as if you would fall into some sort of void if you didn’t hold onto her for dear life. resting your head on her shoulder, you whined, losing yourself onto her. her fingers were still pumping in and out of you at that moment, faster than they were before, by the way, so it took you all of your body strength to not just cum right then and there, but you managed to hold back. for her, you held back and took all of it. every minute passing, every single motion feeling like it was threatening to make you go insane. 

“ning pleaseplease let me cum i wanna cum so badly fuck- pleasepleasepleasepleaseee-” you begged, looking down at her with pleading teary eyes.

“fuck, look at you. calling me a dumb bitch all the time, yet here you are, acting oh so stupid for my fingers. such a brainless needy little whore for me, hm? does my idiotic, pretty girl wanna cum?” 

you nodded eagerly as you whined, tears actively running down both of your cheeks, so desperate for release that you quite honestly didn’t care for how ridiculous you looked to her at that moment. you just wanted to cum, so, so, so badly, and you were ready to give up your dignity for it.

the sound of her hand slapping your cheek resonated in the car.

“say it. you know damn well i don’t accept pathetic sounds for an answer.”

“fuck— your idiotic pretty girl wants to cum pleaseee let her–”

she hummed, smirking at your response. incredibly amused by your behavior, she took her fingers out of you, picked you up by placing her hands on your thighs, then gently put you on the empty seat that was next to the one she occupied. upon seeing you sat comfortably, she proceeded to kneel down on the empty space between the front seats and the backseats. y’know,

the ones a grown woman couldn’t possibly fit in?

it’s okay though, like, yeah she would most definitely complain about back pain later, but right now?

she needed to feel you cum all over her tongue.

and that’s exactly what she worked towards, her tongue driven by the scent of your arousal to roam all over your folds and clit, kissing and sucking on every inch of your core as she attentively listened to all the sweet noises that came out of you. it really did not take long before your moans reached octaves you didn’t even know you could achieve before, an overwhelming wave of relief hitting you like a truck. you were 100% sure you would pass out afterwards.

at the end of the day, yeah, you both were still stranded in the middle of some unknown parking lot, but at least, the stress of it all evaporated in the air.

while you were trying to catch your breath, you made a mental note;

never underestimate ning’s intelligence when she was in a bad mood! or, do. depending on if you wanna get fucked stupid that day or not.

[scaredpigeons]

Aqua Regia VII: Saturate me, I can’t get enough.

Previous chapter // First Chapter

Neuvillette x Fem!reader

Warning: SMUT NSFW 18+ MDNI

Word count: 5.7k

Conifer forests quake in fear at the way you two pine. What do you get when you cross a very pent up dragon and the object of his affections? So much fucking love it will rot your teeth.

CW: sex, penetrative sex, oral sex (fem rec) neuvillette has a dragon tongue, claws appear but no wounds are made, Neuvillettes nest™️ nicknames: my dearest, my darling, love, pretty girl, perfect girl, very gendered language, im sorry :( unrealistic first time sex, multiple orgasms, implied multiple rounds.

Authors note: this is so fucking mushy gushy heavy fluff heavy romance. I literally couldn’t write his first time being any other way. He’s obsessed, okay? There is a lot of declarations of love, devotion, very flowery and flattering language. There are not many things hotter than an all powerful being declaring their utter devotion to you and then fucking you until the sun rises. I left it a little open ended, so maybe an epilogue chapter, if y’all are interested? Anyways, remember to reblog and comment your thoughts! It’s my literal favourite thing to read your opinions and compliments, even if you’re shy, just send an anon ask! I love you all, thank you so much for your support on this piece.

————————————

The sound of little pearls scattering onto the floor accompanied the press of your spine against the inside of Neuvillette’s front door as his mouth consumed yours. 

You were panting, hands roaming over each other as your tongues danced. You’d never kissed like this before. The polite pecks you’ve given men after failed dates were nothing compared to the way Neuvillette drank in your lips like they were the finest water in the world. 

His large, lean body pushed you against the fine wood of his door, hands pressing up into your hair as he pulled your face ever closer, scattering more little pearls along his entryway. 

“Do you…” he panted, lips never leaving yours for more than necessary. “Truly want tea?” He asked.

You smiled as he continued to kiss you breathless. “Tea can wait.” 

He picked you up and hoisted you against him once more, your bottom resting on his forearms as he twirled you around, making you giggle and squeal. 

“Your perfection knows no bounds.” He murmured against your lips as he began to move towards the stairs. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he carried you up the stairs and down the hall, but he hesitated before bringing you into what you guessed was his room. 

“Ah…” he said, a deeper blush working its way into his pale skin. “I forgot about my… well you see…” 

You smiled, pulling him closer to press a peck to his lips. ”What? I can hardly imagine your room is messy, Neuvillette.”

He closed his eyes tight, opening the door to set you down inside. You turned, looking around the room. 

A very large four poster bed was the main focal point of the room, lush sheer curtains hanging from the tall frame, making it seem luxurious and inviting. But the piles of silks, pillows and blankets surrounding the mattress making a large circle in the center was what stood out the most to you. Taking a step closer, you could see there were little things scattered throughout the barrier, the gloves you’d gifted him last month, a few shirts and coats, little trinkets and things here and there. 

Your brow furrowed before you turned to look up at him, finding him looking between you and the bed with a hand covering the lower half of his face. 

“It looks like…” you glanced back at the bed. “It looks like a nest?” 

He breathed, nodding, pinching his temples in embarrassment. “When you were last here, we spoke of some subtle changes I’d been experiencing since gaining my full dragonhood, yes?” 

You nodded, walking towards the bed to run your hands along the fabrics making up the walls of the nest. 

“I’ve been experiencing strange urges, instincts I cannot seem to control no matter how hard I try.” He said lowly, somewhere behind you.

The blanket you ran your hands across was soft, fur of some sort, and it felt so luxurious you wanted to bury your face in it and never leave its soothing embrace. 

“Urges?” You said, feeling a heat pool between your thighs at the thought. 

“Yes.” His voice was suddenly right by your ear, his heat pressing up against your spine. “For example, right now, seeing you next to my bed, admiring my nest— it makes me want to pick you up and place you within it so that I may crawl over top of you to do deplorable, feral and unspeakable things to you.” 

A deep, spine tingling shiver raced through you. You knew the general direction of where this was headed when you begged him to take you to his house, but never in your wildest dreams did you expect Neuvillette to admit something so… dirty… so openly. 

You turned, meeting his eyes with a gasp as you came face to face with a version of your leader you’d never seen. 

He was flushed, panting, his eyes glowing in the moonlight streaming into his dark room. His horns were glowing too, their blue hue radiating behind him as he loomed over you. To anyone else it might’ve been intimidating, but you felt so safe in this moment, so satisfied to know that he wanted you. 

“I…” you wondered how you should phrase this, how to make him understand that you were not put off in the slightest by any of these changes in him. To you, he was still Neuvillette. His draconian quirks made him all the more desirable because it was just another part of him. 

“I’d like to help you satisfy those urges, if you’ll let me.” You said, looking up at him through your lashes. 

Very suddenly, he dropped to his knees, his hands clutching at your dress. The act startled you, and you stumbled back, bumping into the walls of fabrics lining his nest.

”I am undeserving,” he whimpers, and your legs nearly give out at how broken he sounds in this moment, looking up at you. “I know not how to pleasure you in the way you are so deserving, I only have these instincts, these feelings pushing me to take.” 

He stumbled forward, almost blindly on his knees as his eyes kept yours locked to him. He pushes his face closer to your core, inhaling deeply against the fabric of your dress, his eyes fluttering back. 

“And you always smell so sweet, it eats at my very soul to not taste you at every moment of every day.” His eyes look like they’re watering, begging and pleading as he keeps talking, keeps sending waves of pleasure to your core with every word spoken. 

“You deserve more than this animal I’ve become, but I cannot help that you undo me. You unravel the very stitching that I have woven over these past five hundred years and the thought terrifies me because—“ he’s panting, chest heaving, hands gripping the crushed velvet of your gown. “Because I want you so completely, so entirely. My want for you consumes my very being.” 

Your heart sings, because how could it not? You didn’t have very much experience with anything like this either— really none at all. And he was worried? He was worried he was too much? Not enough? This man was the sovereign ruler of a nation. The elemental dragon of your land, a primordial being with more power than you could even begin to fathom. 

“Oh, Neuvillette,” you brought a hand to cup his cheek, the very same action you made the last time you were in his home, comforting him. “Will you do something for me?” 

He clutched you closer, pupils nearly consuming his irises. “I would drain the seas if you told me you did not favor the way they glimmer in the sunshine. I would blot out the sun if you told me you did not enjoy the heat on your skin. Anything, my dearest. Anything for you.” 

“Give in to it.” And you swore you could feel the breath catching in his chest. “Take me and give me everything your heart desires, because I am already yours.”

”Truly?” He pleaded, seeming so small below you.

You nodded, speaking softly to him as you ran your fingertips across his cheekbone. “From the moment I entered your office Neuvillette, I’ve been yours.”  

Your world flipped upside down as Neuvillette lunged, tackling you over the wall of his nest and into the bed. 

He kissed you so deeply it stole your breath away, you gasped as he pulled back to mouth across your jaw, nipping at your throat. 

You noticed his teeth had grown sharper during your fervent kissing, but feeling those teeth drag like little daggers against the delicate skin of your throat made you shiver with something like fear— but it was laced with arousal, with anticipation. 

You moaned as he licked and sucked on your neck, and he whimpered above you, clutching your waist as he went. 

“I'm sorry, I’m sorry—“ he said between kisses along your skin. “I can’t control myself, I can't—“ 

You reached up, grabbing his face in your hands, making him look at you. 

“Neuvillette, listen to me.” His eyes fluttered between yours, searching. 

“When I told you I love you, that means I love you without conditions.” You said, leaning up to kiss his lips gently. “Which means I will love you when you are poise and regal, when you are the perfect gentleman, but I will also love you when you are not.”

You could see iridescent blue scales rising into his skin, framing his eyes so beautifully. You could see them form around his throat, and his horns continued to glow. When he told you he was becoming undone, you knew he was serious, but you didn't realize what exactly that would entail. 

He was beautiful. Raw and open and completely yours. 

“I will love you even if you are rough, or crude, or selfish. I will not watch you suffer against your instincts when I so desperately wish to see you dive headfirst into them.” 

The subtlest of tears formed in his eyes, and the rain continued to batter the windows outside, pouring down around you— the perfect symphony to accompany this moment. 

“I love every aspect of you, Neuvillette. Even this. Please,” you whispered, pulling him ever closer to your lips. “Please, just take what you need. Take me.” 

———————————

He does not remember how your dress and petticoat managed to find themselves sprawled across his bedroom floor, or when his gloves and shirt followed, but he does remember the delightful squeak you gave when he tore them from your body. 

You were shy, of course you were— but he was having none of that, gently and selfishly pinning your arms against the bed as his eyes consumed your body, your naked skin. 

You squirmed and whimpered underneath him, and part of Neuvillette worried that you weren’t enjoying yourself— but the closer he came to your lower half the more he realized that the source of that mouthwatering smell was coming from between your legs, and his mouth did indeed water. 

You had told him to let go of his restraint, to give in, but he had the sense to keep part of himself in check, knowing he needed to be somewhat gentle, attentive to your needs. 

What knowledge he did have of this process was from books, and even then, he thinks the last time he read a romance novel was likely over a century ago. 

He knew basic anatomical structures, their functions, but putting it all into practice was another thought entirely. 

Through his lust filled haze of admiring your naked body, he swallowed the drool pooling in his mouth— so barbaric. 

“Tell me,” he panted. “Tell me how to make this pleasurable for you.” 

You were so red, it fluttered down to your chest, and he watched as your breasts heaved with each breath. He wanted to wrap his lips around them, suck on the delicate skin, so he did. 

You whined as he leaned down, and he loved the feeling of your hands mussing up his hair, pulling his golden circlet away and tossing it into the void that had captured the rest of your clothes with a clattering sound. 

“You, ah—” your breaths were heavy. “You have to work me open. So you don’t tear me.” 

He gripped your waist again, licking and sucking gracelessly across your chest, just enjoying the taste of your skin. 

“How?” He asked, tonguing his way down to your navel, slipping his tongue around the skin of your adorable stomach. Your skin tasted like pure relief, calming the aching fever inside of him one motion of his tongue at a time. 

“F-fingers?” You said, looking down at his hands. He looked too, and you both seemed to notice at the same time that his hands weren’t exactly… normal anymore. 

Those pesky scales had wound up coating his hands too, he could feel them aching around his eyes and throat, his nails forming long black claws that dragged the faintest red lines along your perfect skin. 

“Hah— yeah,” you breathed a panicked laugh, making his chest flutter with anxiety. “Maybe no fingers this time.” 

“What about my tongue?” He said, looking between your eyes and the apex of your thighs.  He wanted so desperately to make this good for you, but he couldn't deny that the thought of tasting that delicious smell directly from the source was a more than appetizing idea. 

You groaned, throwing your hands up to cover your flushed face. “You say it so casually, too—“ 

“Would you enjoy it if I used my tongue, darling?” 

He watched your thighs clench the best they could with him between your legs, and your hands started shaking.  

“Yes,” you whimpered, hands still covering your heated face. “Yes please.” 

Your thighs quivered as he shifted down, his nostrils flaring as he came face to face with your covered core. 

There was a small damp spot on the soft cotton covering you, and he brought his nose directly to it, inhaling deep and groaning as you whined. 

He was truly drooling now, and the desire to taste you became too overwhelming for him to wait any longer. 

The cotton was shredded off your body in delicate ribbons in the wake of his claws, but before you could react, his tongue was already swiping over the entire length of you. 

“Oh!” Your back arched sinfully off the bed, your hands gripping into his hair as he swallowed and sucked and licked over you. You tasted like perfection. No water in the world could taste as crisp and pure as you did— like sweet ambrosia, like everything he never knew he needed until now. 

He tongued over your clitoris, and you seemed to like that the most, keening out as he increased the pressure. But you said you needed to be worked open, which meant…

He pressed his tongue lower, circling it around your twitching hole. You jumped, your nails scraping his scalp— making him moan into you. Your fingers flexed around the base of his horns, and his whole body shuddered as he listened to you whine and keen. 

He pressed in then, eyes blowing wide as a warm, tight heat enveloped the tip of his tongue. His hands gripped your thighs, pushing them further, pulling himself closer to press more of himself inside you.

”Neuvillette!” You gasped out as he pushed in further. Even so, He couldn't help but feel like it wasn’t enough, like you needed more. 

Just as that thought crossed his mind, his tongue seemed to expand, thickening and rolling out into your twitching walls even further. He’d never felt a change like that before, but he kept going, moving and undulating it within your tight heat and savoring the taste of you so deep.

”Holy—“ you screeched, “Oh my Archons!”

A deep, chest rumbling growl reverberated from where Neuvillette was pressed into your core, and even though he knew it wasn’t truly a problem, something inside him did not enjoy hearing those words slip from your precious lips.

But you told him to let go, so he truly did lean into his instincts. 

He pulled his tongue from within you, letting its new length dangle from his mouth a bit before licking up all the slick that had smeared across his face, delighted at the way your eyes popped and your mouth gaped open. 

“There are no pathetic gods here, little one.” He growled, that primal aching welling up in his chest. “Only me.” 

“N-Neuvillette,” you stuttered, hands grabbing at his hair as you tried to pull him between your legs again. “Please—“ 

“Better.” 

He dove back in, using the new length of his tongue to thrust in and out of your dripping hole. He could feel your soft walls relaxing, and a deep, rumbling purr pulled from his chest as you writhed and moaned beneath him. 

Tasting you like this, feeling you move and cry out beneath his hold… it was slowly soothing the ache inside of him that had been tormenting him for months. He could feel himself twitching in his pants, his cock pressing against the confines as it leaked all over the fine material of his pants and briefs. 

In the back of his mind, he was grateful he had enough of a grip on his form to not be sporting one of his more… alarming draconic features, surely that would frighten you far too much to continue. Well, perhaps another time. 

He continued his thrusting, working you open and relishing in the wetness coating his tongue, in the way you cried out his name, your fingertips brushing against his horns as you pulled at his hair. It only served to make him drool more, soaking you even further. 

“Neuvillette—“ you keened as he arched his tongue upwards, feeling your walls clench and quiver around him. He repeated the motion, making you slap your hands down to the bed beside you, grasping at the sheets as your eyes popped wide. 

He continued to press against the spot that seemed to make you fall deeper into your pleasure, his eyes never leaving your face as he thrust his tongue with vigor, watching as you quivered. 

Yes, something inside him purred, watching you lose yourself. Keep going, take it from her. 

He felt the moment your walls tightened so completely that he thought something might be wrong— only to watch as your face shattered into a broken sob of pure delight, your whole body twitching as you cried out. Your thighs tried to clamp around his head, but he pressed further, working you through it with his writhing tongue. 

After a few moments of him working you through the height of your pleasure, you grasped at his hair again, only now you were pushing him back, gasping as your body violently twitched. 

“Too much—“ you squeaked. “T-too much!” 

He pulled back from you, licking your remaining juices from his lips as he watched you regain your breath. 

You threw an arm over your eyes, your every breath heaving in your chest as parts of your body twitched in the aftershocks. 

He crawled over your body, nuzzling into the crook of your neck as he purred and murmured against your skin to comfort you.

”Your taste is divine,” he whispered. “Better than I ever could have dreamed, and my dreams were always drenched in your image.” 

“I—“ you sighed, finally pulling air into your chest unlabored. “I dream of you too.” 

“Oh?” He purred, smiling against your skin as he ran his hands down your arms. “And what exactly do you dream of, dearest?” 

You smiled, staring up at the ceiling and avoiding his gaze with flushed cheeks. 

“Your eyes.” You whispered, glancing down at him. “I dream of the way you look at me.” 

———————

You knew this was going to be a lot. 

Neuvillette is not a small man by any stretch of the imagination, but you always figured he would at least be a reasonable size — whatever that may be. 

Clearly your expectations were a little on the small side, because when he unbuttoned his trousers, pulling them down and off his body, exposing his naked skin in all its glory, your eyes ached with how wide they were staring openly at the apex of his creamy white thighs. 

Flushed a ruddy purplish red at the tip, it was literally leaking as he knelt between your spread legs. It twitched—he must’ve noticed your staring, and you chewed on your bottom lip, wondering how in all the abyss you were supposed to fit that thing inside of you. 

Neuvillette was panting. He looked irrevocably desperate, like he was ready to burst at the seams at any moment. 

“Neuvillette,” you whimpered, spreading your thighs further for him. 

He hadn’t touched you since he took his pants off, just staring down at you as you drank him in, watching your reactions. 

“Are…” he seemed strained, like the words themselves pained him. “Are you sure?” 

“Please,” you whined. “Please, inside me, I want you inside.”

He seemed to bite back a groan, eyes roaming over your soaked core, your blush traveling down your chest. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your lips. 

It was delicate, loving, nothing like the unrestrained devouring before, but it still seemed like he was holding himself back. A beautiful bowstring pulled taut, ready to snap. 

“Neuvillette,” you murmured against his lips. “Please, I want it. I trust you, I want you, please.” 

Your pleading seemed to stir him, and you could feel the hot press of his length against your aching hole. You didn't know what it would feel like, the anticipation making you tense up and hold your breath. 

“Breathe, my love.” Neuvillette said, though he himself was shaking as his hands held him up above you. “Relax, breathe.” 

You released a breath and the tension from your spine, melting into the pillows as he chose that moment to breach your entrance, the slick pooling out of you allowing him to slide the crown in with no resistance. 

You keened, your back arching as you felt the first push. “Ah, fuck! Fuck!”

Neuvillette was still shaking, his voice quivering and yet he still found it within himself to chuckle, low and deep as his eyes fluttered across your face, drinking in your pleasured reactions. 

“Such vulgar language,” he breathed. “Where’d my polite little assistant go?” 

You swear your eyes were about to bulge out of your skull as he pushed another inch in, slowly, his body vibrating above you in restraint. 

It wasn’t hurting, but the stretch was so intense it was turning your brain into mush. You never swear in front of Neuvillette, gods, you never curse in front of anyone but Wriothesley, but your brain seems to short circuit as Neuvillette enters your body one delicious inch at a time.

You were thankful you told him to stretch you out, thankful for that gods forsaken tongue that just came out of nowhere, long and thick and surprisingly serpentine.  

“P-politeness isn’t really…” you tossed your head back in the blankets as he sunk in further. “Isn’t really my main focus… r-right now.” 

“Ah, yes.” Neuvillettes words spoke confidence, but his voice was shaking, his arms vibrating as they held him above you. “We have more pressing things to focus on at the moment, don’t we?”

You groaned, half in embarrassment at his wordplay and half at the way he pulled out a bit just to press back in further. 

He just licked up the column of your throat, that ridiculously long tongue making your whole body shiver in delight as he pressed in further. 

“Holy f—“ you grabbed his forearms, leaning up the best you could to look down at where your bodies were connected. “How much more is there? It’s so… so…”

Your stomach flipped at how much you still had to go, how little your brain could comprehend that this weapon was supposed to fit inside you. 

“Do you need me to stop, my darling? Is it too much for you?” Neuvillette breathed against your neck. His words spoke one thing, but it was like his body was screaming for you to say anything but. 

“No!” You panicked a bit, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him against your lips, kissing him filthy. “Please, don’t stop.” 

It took a couple more minutes of gentle thrusting, the rough texture of this thumb swirling against your throbbing clit and some very messy kisses, but when his hips finally pushed flush against yours, your eyes rolled back in your head, mind finally vacating all thought in favor focusing on how blindingly full you felt. 

“Oh,” Neuvillette breathed. “—My darling. My sweet, sweet girl.” His hips were frozen, probably taking in how you clenched around him, because you could feel it— the way your walls fluttered and squeezed around his length as he remained motionless. 

He twitched, and you keened, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring his face level with yours, panting into his mouth. “Please,” you whined. “Please move.” 

He shuddered before hesitantly bringing his hips back, watching your every breath as he pressed forward again. 

The deep, guttural moan it pulled from your chest must have flipped some kind of switch within him, because all sense of hesitancy seemed to drain from his body as his hips began a desperate rhythm, smacking against yours. 

“Ah!” Your back arched, eyes rolling into your skull as he finally, finally fucked you. “Neuvi— Neuvillette!”

His eyes seemed glazed over with emotions, looking down at you with so much wonder. His expression was strained, breaths coming short as his hands snaked down to your hips, leaning back up and away from your grip.

The change in angle, though minuscule, drastically altered the way his cock pummeled your insides. It was intense before, your mind was nearly floating in the clouds— but now his cock bullied itself along your most sensitive spot and pressed so deep within you, you were sure you could nearly taste it.

”Perfect,” he breathed. “My perfect, perfect girl. So warm and tight— it's like you were made to take me.” 

Your brain had exited the atmosphere, and was now drifting away into the deep nothingness of space. You swore you could feel your orgasm welling in the pit of your core, making your legs shake where they were perched on Neuvillettes hips. 

“It— it feels so good,” your words were starting to slur, your vision hazy with unshed tears of pure ecstasy as you blinked up at him. “I n-never— I never wanna stop. I want this forever.” 

His hips never faltered, not even once as he shuddered and groaned, the sound making you clench down around him even more. His hands gripped your waist tighter, the black claws digging into your skin, sure to leave marks. 

A possessive sort of noise rumbled from his chest, his eyes flaring with need. 

“I’ll give you all of myself until the end of time,” he murmurs, voice full of deep, rasping need. “Tell me you’re mine, I’ll give you everything.” 

Your heart welled, your eyes blinking tears as your legs shook harder. 

“I’m yours,” you cried. “I love you, Neuvillette. I’m yours.” 

He pushed at your legs, hands grabbing your thighs to press them up and forward, nearly folding you in half as you sobbed out in pleasure. Your body ached, your orgasm now on the very precipice as he managed to fuck into you even deeper than before, and you didnt know how it was possible. 

“Again.” He growled. 

“I’m yours!” You keened. 

His hands pressed harder into your thighs, his face leaning closer to yours. Through your haze, you could see how his pupils were blown wide, consuming all of his otherworldly irises. You could see how deeply he looked at you, drinking in your trembling form. 

“Mine.” He whispered. 

And that was all it took for the fraying cord inside you to snap. 

You screamed into the darkness of his room, writhing and shaking as it pulsed through you, all consuming and more intense than anything you’d ever felt in your life. He gasped, muttering something in a language you didn't recognize as his hips stuttered. He pushed you through it, the mind melting pleasure pulsing out into your limbs, making you go limp into the bed. 

His eyes were wild, and his pace slowed, hands holding onto you like you would slip away if he didn’t. 

“My love,” he moaned, desperate as the fluttering aftershocks worked through you, your body twitching in the sensitive overstimulation. “My love, I want to— I need—“

“Inside me,” your voice cracked, hoarse from how loud you’d been in your revelry, but it only seemed to spur him on. “Please, inside me.” 

And within the last three stuttering strokes, he was gone, his forehead pressing into yours as he leaned forward and moaned, long and wrecked and obscene. It made you flutter around him, milking him absolutely dry as he filled and filled and filled you. 

You could feel it, hot and heavy— each jerk of him inside you coating you further, marking you in white, in the deepest places as his. 

He was mumbling, his face moving to press into the curve of your neck and shoulder. Dazed, you couldn’t tell what he was saying— whether he was speaking in another language or if you were just too out of it to register his words. 

You lifted an arm to rest on his back, feeling the heat and the sweat of him. Unfazed, you drag your hand up and down his shoulder blades, relishing in the feeling of his skin, his breath as he murmurs against your neck. 

As your breath finally steadied in your lungs, no longer struggling, you ran your hands through his long, luscious hair, fingertips ghosting his horns. 

“I’m sorry,” he finally said aloud, clear and in a language you understood. “I’m sorry.”

”What for?” You smiled, trying to get him to look at you. When you finally pried him from the crook of your shoulder, your heart skipped a beat at how flushed he still was, how guilty he looked. 

It was then that you realized he was still inside you, still hard as before, twitching and throbbing as he held himself above you. 

“You begged me to take you,” he breathed, clawed hands pulling at the sheets. “And I can’t help but crave more.”

————————————

The sun had just begun rising over the dewy cypress trees by the time Neuvillette sat in the warm bath, cradling you in his arms. 

You twitched and groaned in displeasure as he ran the washcloth along your heated skin, but he couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of pride at the marks scattered along your body. 

He’d been too afraid to hurt you, but after the moan you let out when his teeth accidentally scraped across your collarbone during the second round, (or was it the third?) he’d lost all sense of decency. You seemed to like them as well, and you certainly liked when he ran his tongue across the red and purple splotches to soothe them. So, c’est la vie. 

Your head lolled against his shoulder, you were barely conscious at this point, and he wanted to feel guilty, he really did. But you’d begged and begged and begged for him to take what he needed, how could he refuse? 

He pulled the glass bottle he’d brought from the cooler to your lips, stirring you a bit to prompt you to drink. 

“Please, my love. You need to rehydrate.” He smiled at the way you pouted, But opened your lips to take tentative sips anyways, your eyes still closed. 

He watched a trail of water slip past your lax lips and run down your chin and throat, his eyes carefully following the movement. He swallowed deeply, willing away the erection that was still threatening the dark corners of his willpower. 

He could honestly keep going, he couldn't get enough of you, but you were still so fragile, so incredibly mortal. He knew that he had to stop, give you a moment of reprieve. Force himself to behave until your sweet voice would sing to him again, begging him for more. He licked his lips at the thought. 

“Are… are your urges… satisfied?” You mumbled as he pulled the bottle away. You cuddled up to him, so sleepy. 

He thought very carefully on how to reply to you. 

“For now, yes. They are, darling.” He finally said. “But I believe I will always desire you as strongly as I did then— as I do now, still.”

You gave a sleepy smirk, your eyes still closed as you snuggled closer to him, your bare skin pressed so beautifully against his. 

This— this was perfect. He didn't think anything else could compare to the feeling of being inside you, so connected to your body and in tune with your emotions. But this… being with you, holding you and caring for you… it was just as beautiful. His heart felt full, and for the first time in months, he didn’t feel restless.

“I meant what I said, you know.” He said, kissing the top of your head. 

You sighed wistfully. “Which part? Because when you said you were going to ‘spend the rest of your existence finding new ways to make me shatter into millions of delicious little pieces,’ I was rather inclined to believe you.” 

He felt his cheeks heat a little. “Ah, well. I meant all of that too. But I’m referring to something I said earlier on in the evening.”   

Your voice was wavering, and he could see sleep pulling at you, tugging you into its embrace one sleepy blink at a time. “Which part, my love?” 

His chest still fluttered at those words, despite both of your endless proclamations of devotion and love last night, he was still so blissful at the prospect of being yours, of you being his. His love. 

“The bit where I told you that I would give you all of me until the end of time. That I’ll give you everything.” 

“Mm,” you said, eyes closed and words loose. “I know.” 

He ran his hands along your back, his skin finally calmed down closer to the end of the night, his scales and claws retracting and freeing his fingers for nefarious purposes. But now, he was enjoying feeling your smooth skin against his own. 

“I have things I must do, duties to this realm beyond that of my role as Iudex. It will be a long and perilous road, a road uneasy for myself and those I love. But in this, as in every other aspect of my life— I feel as though if you stood beside me, it would lighten the burden. You make every part of my life better, and I would be honored to have you beside me for the rest of time.” 

He wasn’t sure how, but if he could free the people of Fontaine from their curse, surely he could find a way to keep you with him, if you so wished. 

“Your voice is pretty,” you sighed. “I love you,” you were mumbling, and he realized you were already rather deep in the clutches of sleep, likely not even hearing a word he’d said. 

He smiled, breathing out a sigh as he kissed the top of your head once more. 

“Sleep well, my darling.” 

La Fin.

—————————————————————

Authors Note: remember to drop a comment with your thoughts! I love you guys so much 🖤

[jade-len]

i think it'd be funny if someone transmigrated as xin mo. the goddamn evil sword. instead of taking it seriously, they just really fucked around with bingge. and, somehow, ended up having the opposite effect of what it's supposedly rumored to do.

picture this: bingge, on the quest for revenge and power, comes across the almighty xin mo. this demonic sword killed everyone that dared to even try wielding it. and, the few who were lucky enough to have it by their side, eventually succumbed to the swords' will.

it is said that the sword is unlike any other, that it etches into your head and eats away your brain, until eventually it consumes you whole. it whispers, speaking in lust, greed, and hatred. it slowly beckons the wielder into giving in to the worst part of themselves and feeds off of pure sin. but to him, it is no matter; luo bingge will surely tame it.

and then he gets to the sword.

demonic qi practically oozes from xin mo. the aura surrounding it makes every part of luo bingge scream, "run; get away, away from that monster." his gut prods at him, begging bingge that this is probably a really bad idea. it's a little terrifying, how even luo bingge, the determined, vengeful demon, is now getting second thoughts about wielding xin mo from just being in its presence alone.

but luo bingge is too, a monster. so he ignores the screams of plea; pushing every thought of doubt in the back of his head, and tightly grips onto the handle. the world around him seems to spin and shake, tumble and crack, from the amount of force bingge needs to use in order to pull the sword of sin out of its place.

when bingge finally has it perfectly fit into the palms of his calloused hands, he hears whispering. he knows that the sword has accepted him as its new host.

the sword's language crawls up to him, as if it were feeling around his body and mind. checking every nook and cranny for it to settle into bingge's form, truly becoming one with the embodiment of sin. the words flow through his brain like a tragically broken guqin, a melody that holds him in a frighteningly familiar trance - all while simultaneously eating away at his brain in the worst ways possible, akin to a child and their favorite snack. it seems to beckon something, but even with luo bingge's impressive hearing, he cannot make out any words from the tone-deaf musical notes xin mo sings.

and then, it is clear. the land around him settles, and everything is still. xin mo itself seems to be.. content. at least, that is what luo bingge believes.

the language of this wretched sword reflects the state around these two monsters.

luo bingge expects it to demand for bloodshed, for the erotic ecstasy of multiple women, for bingge to steal the last of the finest gems of these horrible, vast lands.

instead, he hears this:

"yoooo damn that shit was crazy. did you see what i did there? man, you know, it feels so fucking good to get out of the dirt. hey, do you know if people can like, feed their swords or something? i'm kinda craving something spicy. we never know, in this wack world! wait, don't hold me like that, buddy. it'll make things real awkward."

but luo bingge is determined to get his revenge, so he puts up with the swords' constant rambling about.. whatever the hell it's thinking.

"wait, dude, did you seriously fuck a dying girl? that's wild. yeah, like i know she was dying but it doesn't sound like you wanted it. yo, listen to me, consent is very sexy."

"HAHA hey, dude, sir, man. you wanna play some 'i spy'? we don't have anything else to do. no? too bad, we're playing it. i spy a loser who doesn't wanna play i spy. hint: he's holding me right now."

"okay i know i'm supposed to be this super evil sword and beg to be used - woah that sounded real wrong - but can you at least clean me when you're done killing shit? if you don't, i'm gonna refuse to respond to you and you'll look like a dumbass trying to wield me."

"i can't hear you lalalalalalala you're not being very it girl right now lallalalaalalalla-"

somehow, this is worse than if xin mo was actually eating away at his brain.

weirdly enough though, as luo bingge starts spending more time with this weird ass, seemingly possessed sword, it starts to become more of a.. comfort to have it by his side than pure annoyance. he finds himself responding to it more, like, actually having full on conversations with it. it puts him at ease, wielding xin mo. the hatred doesn't consume him, instead, it seems to soothe the burning rage (and, admittedly, just replace it with small irritation) that holds onto his darkened heart.

xin mo is actually quite kind and caring, for a sword that's supposed represent and be the literal embodiment of sin. sure, it is a hassle to have it cooperate with him sometimes, and it does just ramble on and on about the most random things ever, not giving a single shit if bingge was in the middle of sleeping with maidens and slaying those who get in his way. for the first time, bingge feels so comfortable around something.

it's.. odd. what was supposed to be the turning point in his life, a big step in his plan for revenge, is now something akin to an... acquaintance. not like mobei-jun, or any of the women he's come across, but an actual, dare he say, friend.

sometimes, he finds himself thinking all of this delusional. is this what people were driven mad by? perhaps they simply could not handle dealing with a talking sword. he understands that xin mo was undoubtedly unbearable to be around at the beginning of their alliance, but it has never actually beckoned for blood, power, and sex. if anything, it does the opposite.

maybe he's the delusional one. maybe this is xin mo's way of getting to him.

maybe, xin mo should be considered a thing. the thought feels terribly laughable, as if he were witnessing a person horribly explain themselves. it also makes his teeth grind together in pure agitation.

"hey, you know, you didn't deserve any of the things they did. it wasn't your fault, binghe. the fact that you're half heavenly demon doesn't make you a monster, or any of that wild stuff.. uh, i'm here for you, okay? i know you don't really like talking about all of this or opening up, but i just want you to know that you can.. talk about it. it's not like i can tell anyone else, anyways.

hey- shit i didn't mean to make you cry! wait, wait it's okay to cry! you need to let it out anyways, i promise it doesn't make you weak. there, there. i don't have any hands, so me patting you on the head with my handle will have to do. there, there.. everything will be alright, you'll be okay. i'll be here every step of the way, even if you want to get rid of me."

xin mo, the demonic sword, is more of a person - a good person - than anyone he'd ever come across.

...and then bingge and the xin mo transmigrator become besties or he falls for the damn sword. knowing him, he probably doesn't even know the difference between platonic and romantic attraction anyways. maybe bingge gets a plant body for xin mo using airplane's wack writing. idk i typed all of this down in one sitting.

(plot twist: it's not that the transmigrator xin mo had the opposite effect, it was literally just a placebo effect. luo bingge thought that, and thus it actually did help him lmao)

[hidden-poet]

President Snow; part 2

2/3

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

summary: After lucy gray there was you.

warnings: unco/dubco, power imbalance, dark!Coriolanus, possessive!Corirlanus, Dark themes, mentions of death, punishments not fun-ishments, P in V, Spanking, face fucking, oversimulation, SA, breeding kink, unfaithfulness, she/her pronouns. reader is a homewrecker (sort of), unedited.

I would like to apologize to god for witting this.

Part 1 here

Part 3 here

You're were scrubbing the floor when your head mistress calls your name.

“President Snow is demanding his tea. He wants it brought up at once” she exclaims.

"its hardly seven. He takes his tea in the afternoon".

"never mind that, go you insolent girl, go" the headmistress sho's you away.

He quickly make his tea, burning yourself in the process before you stood knocking at his door.

You wait for him to say enter before you do.

He doesn't look at you as you mix his tea and place it in front of him.

"is that all President Snow?"

He doesn't answer but takes a sip of his tea. You take that as a no and turn to leave.

"Y/n" he calls, his gaze still on the paper in front of him while he hold out his hand.

You don't keep him waiting placing you hand in his palm. he flips it so the soft of your hand was showing and he examines it intensely.

He blindly reaches for his ruler in the draw, drawing it out and twirling it around his hand. You wanted to pull away from his touch but knew better. Instead you focus on your breathing. Trying your best to control the fear you felt.

You heard the ruler coming down before you felt it. Yet a gasp left your lips at the pain. You tug back in pure instinct but his tight hold disallowed any true movement.

It comes down again and you roll your fingers in, pressing on the stinging skin. The ruler comes down a third time across your fingers and you let out a shout.

he makes small taps against the top knuckles of your rolled fingers and demands you open your palm.

As you do another harsh strike stings across the base of your hand.

"Forgive me, President Snow" you cry.

'For?" he taunts laying the ruler flat upon the assaulted skin.

"Not receiving your permission to leave the room"

This time you do manage to tear your hand free as the strike landed. You cradled your injured hand against your chest and looked at him with wide eyes.

"what did i tell you about your place" he eyes the floor next to him.

You sink to your knee's and Coriolanus pacified with this throws his ruler on his desk and goes back to his work.

You sat there uncomfortably for hours. Only rising occasionally in the first half hour to make him more tea before sitting back upon your heels like a statue.

-------------------

Coriolanus sat at his desk with his head resting against his hand while he stares at his mahogany desk.

His work had long been done but he remained. What had he to go home to? an large quiet space for him to sleep. Home life was a façade. He only lived with his wife and children for the public eye. He was a family man to his people. A man who rules with a Irion fist to keep his and their family safe.

But when he returned home late at night, he returned a stranger. The children were kept quiet and hidden by their avox nannies, and Clemensia bored him with talks of social feuds and latest fashion.

Before you, it didn't bother him. A boy who had nothing became the man who had everything. He used to relish going home to a huge empty apartment, filled with the finest things just for him.

But now when he went home it felt like he only waited to return to you.

He images you now scurrying about the manor, trying to avoid him at all costs. He liked that in a way he was always on your mind like you were on his.

He hated to go home and give you the peace of mind.

He had thought about moving you to the home estate. Keeping you chained in his bedroom, waiting for him. You would come with him to the office on busy days lead by a collar around your pretty neck.

But no. He couldn't have you getting airs about yourself. You weren't chosen by him. You were simply his.

A slave. Only slightly higher than a Avox. It was important that you knew your place. Living here amongst those with the same standing would ensure that you knew that the small favors that Coriolanus granted were marvels and not something to be expected.

You plagued his mind but that were your power over him stopped.

He wondered if you thought of him now. If you hid in your bed waiting for the announcement that he had returned home for the day. Were you worried that he could call for you again, or did you give yourself a false sense of security that your duty to him was done for the day.

He looked at his watch. 7 o'clock. It was the maids turn for dinner.

Would you be sitting there unable to eat in worry? Should he interrupt you as a reminder that he is the one that truly feeds you. None of them would dare eat in his presence. He pondered going down to your eating quarters and wondering around.

You hadn't eaten the scraps he offered you during the day. Too good for them. Yes, he would teach you a lesson. You would sit there with the smell of food under your nose while he took a leisurely stroll around the room. Examining things that he had no interest in so he could watch your squirm in your seat. Perhaps he would knock over your bowl on the way out. You would come to him tomorrow morning starving. He bet he could get you to eat out of the palm of his hand.

With this thought in mind he takes long powerful strides across the vast space. Logically the servants quarters was the furthest from the precedential office that the articture could manage.

It was quiet. He didn't encounter another personas he strode across the wide rooms. The maids were last to eat for the night. Everyone else had fallen asleep from a hard days work. It was for the best. There was no one to warn you of his arrival.

He practically leaped down the stairs to you. Reaching the large oak doors, he halts just as the light creeks open from it.

He hears laughter. Laughter despite the dire circumstances they find themselves in.

He peers in and looks for you. He finds your easily, having know your height, and stature well.

You were smiling as you talked to your friend. You nudge her slightly as you laugh. He had never heard you laugh before. Never seen a smile grace your lips. And now here you were giving them out freely to people you owed nothing to. You owed everything to him and only offered him a slight nods and trembling touches.

He felt angry, jealous. He wasn't sure which. But the outcome was the same he wanted to tear into the room and grab you by your neck.

But he was a man of great restraint. A display of his brute strength would only bond you further to them. Instead, he would allow them to turn on each other, helped with food shortages and longer days.

People of their status should hold no laughter in their bones.

Do they think the Snow house was filled with laughter during their desperate times.

He closes the door, and leaves the estate to go home.

Only to pace the study in his own home, your smile burning his brain. he had taken all of his restrictive clothing off, leaving only his pants and loosely buttoned shirt.

You were talking so freely with those around you. You barely spoke in his presence. yes sir, no sir.

does he not offer you enough intellectual stimulation for discussion. Should you not field your questions through him and not those who went to school to lean how to shine shoes.

He dashed to his desk and pulled out a communicator to his head peacekeeper at the estate. He was to put a muzzle on you tonight. You were to sleep with it, wake with it and shower with it. Only he was to free you from it.

Only the beeping back saying it would be done could lull Coriolanus into a state that allowed him to sleep.

------------

He rushed to work the next day. He shooed away the avox who brought him his morning coffee, focusing on pulling on his clothes. His dressed simple in a blue dress shirt covered partially by a black vest and matching pants.

He made no greetings or goodbyes as he passed his family being served breakfast and they offered none back.

The first thing he does is call on you. Demanding that the headmistress send you up with his tea as soon as possible.

He then sits impatiently until he hears the knock on his door. He doesn't tell you to enter as he normally does but opens the door himself.

His dick hardens at the sight of you. Your tired eyes are trained on the tray but his are glued to the muzzle in-between your teeth. It was red and cylinder in shape pressed between your teeth with a mechanism that weighed the cylinder down. Effectively trapping your tongue to the base of your mouth. You had a choice of rolling you tongue uncomfortably to the back of your throat where the cylinder would stronghold it. Not allowing for you to push your tongue froward. But it looked like you had allowed it to take natural action.

"Have a good night, Petal?' he sneers as he takes the tray from you. He places it on the table you knocked over weeks ago, leaving it there as he turned back to you.

'Come here and i'll take it off"

You practically slammed the door shut in marching over. Partly because you knew he was going to make you turn around and to it regardless and partly because the whole ordeal was embarrassing to you and you couldn't bare the thought of yet another servant seeing you in such a state.

Coriolanus grips the key he received from the head peace keeper and your arm in the other. He pulls you flush against his chest despite it being easier if you faced away. You feel his breathe against your ear as he unlocks the pad lock.

As soon as you hear the click of the lock you step back as far as his hand leashing your arm would allow. The contraption falls to the floor, and the key drops with it. You rub your jaw, surprised it still had any movement.

He towers over you, his eyes unmistakably on your face.

"Smile" he demands. Your lips spread into a thin smile.

"With your teeth" he directs trying to get as close to the one he saw last night as he could get.

Your teeth poke unnaturally out, and your defince angers him.

He pulls you head back by your hair, his other hand grips your sore jaw harshly.

"how hard is it for you to do simple tasks"

He walks you backwards with his hold until you reach his desk. He pushes you on top of it. Sharp objects dig into your back. He feet were still on the ground while yours dangled between his legs. You could feel his strength as his body kept you in place. His suit fit him well but hid his muscular physique behind the fine cloth.

"smile like you did last night"

You were not usually in the habit of looking him in the eyes but the shock of his words had your stare directly into his.

You shakes you when you do nothing but stare.

"smile!" he repeats.

You try your best to a genuine smile across your face.

He slaps it off, and tears swell in your eyes.

"smile" he repeats and you display a happy demeaner.

he slaps you again, reinstating his wish.

You take it to mean keep smiling as no further direction was given. So you smile through his hits.

again and again he brings his hand down upon your cheek. No longer having to request a toothy grin.

After a particularly harsh slap you could no longer keep your tears at bay, and your smile could not shine through your wails.

'smile" he demands again but you could no longer pull it across your face.

"i can't, i can't" you beg.

Your chest heaves with heavy breathes and pushes against his.

He places both his hands beside you and pushes off the table. You lay there as he takes his seat to your left.

"what are those lips good for then?".

Contrasting with his earlier touch, he places his warm hand gently on the side of your face that was not assaulted.

You don't look at him but could feel his icy stare on you as his thumbs enters you mouth. swirling around your tongue. You thought about biting down but he would surely cut yours off in retaliation. Instead you do nothing but stare at the celling as he brings his thumb in and out of your mouth. he waits for you to dry most of your tears.

you knew what he wanted. what he always wanted. Knew that it was inevitable. you weren't stupid.

he takes his thumb out for the last time and tugs you towards him, off the desk. You comply and automatically sink to your knee's in front of him.

"Your place" he sneers, brushing his wet thumb across your cheek.

You don't move as he free's himself from his trousers. even if you made it to the door, which you doubt you could, what then?

He grips the back of your head and leads it to his cock. You gag and he pushes you further.

You still had a lot to learn but he would get you there.

You thought you would suffocate between his cock and your tears. He showed you no mercy. Your inexperience could offer him little pleasure, and he was in no mood to teach you. Instead using your warm mouth rather then letting you use it. He would take his time to teach you when he was feeling more patience, right now he needed release.

You struggle against him, trying to push back from his thigh's. he growls as he releases you, leaving you gasping for air on the floor and he sweep his arm across the desk clearing it.

Your breathing was deep but no longer swallowing air as before when he yanked you up and across his desk.

He man handles you until you were upside down on the desk, you neck just hanging off the edge in front of him. You could have been saying something, you weren't sure. Perhaps just yelling but your lips looked so inviting.

He yanks your hair down, keeping your lips in place as he shoves his cock as far as it would go. Gaining great leverage from your position.

His moves your head slightly to meet him as he rocks his hips down. You squirm and kick for a while before going completely still. All your focus going on controlling your breathing.

He groans and shudders feeling great pleasure at your misfortune. Daughter of a once great man brought down to be something for a returned son of a great man to keep his dick warm in. You were so beautiful. He had always thought so.

You were a few years his junior at the academy. He would see you in the halls and in the library. You would pay him no mind as you went about your business. But he would watch you every chance he got.

You were a hindrance to his good grades. He had a plinth prize to win and here you were sitting quietly doing you homework while he was trying to study. You used to image you under his desk while he trained to be the best. In the library he imaged you simply keeping it in your mouth while he read as a silent 'I am proud of you'. In the privacy of his war ruined room you would suck (his hand would tug) as he did his practice test. Your teeth would bite down gently for every wrong answer (his nails dug in). And now here you were. Him president of Panam, You competently at his whim.

He always knew you going to a prestigious academy was a waste of time and effort. He had just thought it would be because you would marry a wealthy man and never use your learnings. He never thought all those years that you were only slightly better off then him. That only a few years later as he took control of a country that had chewed him up and spat him out, he would be offered the opportunity to not only have you but own you.

You didn't recognize him of course. You detested the hunger games, refusing to acknowledge it even as you peers played the game. After that Highbottom had taken great pains to cover Coriolanus triumph of lucy grey. You were trapped in your own trouble, why would you care about a boy in a higher grade. Even if he carried the name Snow.

Now he was the only man you worried about and he took great pride in it.

He had waited a long time to have his cock in your mouth, and he wasn't about to let you ruin it for him. he had waited since he first brought you. Thinking that perhaps you would offer in exchange for embellished food rations or scented soap. But you never did, instead choosing to engage him in a game of cat and mouse.

With his cock now shoved down your throat, he felt foolish. It felt amazing and he had denied himself a slice of heaven for no reason. Neverminded you would make it up to him.

he moans as he comes, his fingers loosing all strength in your hair.

They regain it as you try and move. He keeps you in the same position with his limp cock pouring out down your throat.

You have no choice but to drink his cum. Only when he felt it all gone does he allow you to get up. He puts himself away, a job further reserved for you, while you gasp upright on his desk.

You sputter and cough with reded eyes and spit all around your mouth. You looked a mess and in his mercy he gets you a glass of water from a nearby table.

You eye him as he approaches. You make no move to take the cup from him knowing he wouldn't give it.

He pets your hair back from your face as he feeds you the water which you gulp down.

"tomorrow I'll teach you how to take it, but today we have work to do so pick up my desk and take your spot on the floor".

Coriolanus moves from your space to place the cup back to its station and then moves back to his chair. Watching you as slip off the desk, reorganizing the items on the floor. You cry silently as you take your seat upon the floor, the same spot in which you were assaulted just moments before.

Coriolanus doesn't look at you while he completes his work but the school boy in him cheers. Under his desk, on top of his desk, down by his feet. he could have you any way he liked.

-------------------

It was not long after that he grew tired of your mouth, no matter how skilled it was getting, and wanted to see how it would feel to be buried in your cunt. After your first night together, a memory he often replays in his head, you became more defiant.

Most nights he loved it. He preferred the fight to get you nestled between his legs. He had earnt everything that he had, why should you be any different.

He had gotten a doctor to examine you and place birth control in your arm, and you had attacked the poor man. Raking your nails across his face. Coriolanus caught you before you could attack again. His old peacekeeper days coming in handy in both his reflex and ability to subdue.

It seemed his allowance of your fight had strode the fire in you. Your behavior had reflected poorly on him in front of the doctor, and he had taken to cuffing your hands behind your back until you admitted you were wrong to attack the poor doctor. You ate dinner like a dog, occasionally Coriolanus would feed you bits of bread or meat from his own dinner, but most of yours went over the side of your plate or over your face.

Still you would not admit you were wrong. The Doctor had poked and prodded at you for hours. Treating you sub-human. Barking at you to sit still, stop complaining of the pain in your lower regions from presidents Snows roughness; he would get to that area when he would get to it.

he wouldn't allow you to go to the toilet until Coriolanus insisted that such a breck was necessary. But it came at the cost of your lunch break. He had finally satisficed himself of his examination of your upper body (perfectly healthy, and Coriolanus puffed out his chest in pride) before finally reaching the source of your pain.

"you can choose your lunch or i can take a look at what's causing all of your complaints"

You chose to lie down and spread your legs for him.

Coriolanus propped you up on two pillows and feed you fruit from a nearby bowl. Promising you cake once you returned home which you never got after the turn of events.

You wince as the doctor inserts something harshly into you, and Coriolanus kisses the top of your head. How cruel was the doctor that Coriolanus was seeming like the best man in the room.

He allows you to sit up and makes a backhanded comment to Coriolanus that you were a delicate women.

You showed him how delicate you were by launching at him in your hospital gown.

A good last use of hands, you decided.

that belief wavers as Coriolanus pounds into you from behind while you are pinned across his desk. unable to push yourself up to relieve some pressure or grip the ends of the desk.

"president snow wowed in that ensemble today. Didn't he look handsome everybody" the crowed cheers through the television. To be far, he did look quite handsome, even you thought so. His outfit highlighted his broad shoulders and tiny waist but allowed him to keep an air of masculinity about him.

"He's got to be the best dressed president we have ever had" Caesar exclaimed.

"He's the best full stop, son. Productivity from the districts is up, wealth is spreading around the capital. Restoring this great country to what it once was before the war".

With Lucky signing his praises on national TV, you could feel Coriolanus pick up the pace behind you. Edged on by the words in the way the having being handsome did not. You guessed he heard it all his life.

His hand on your binded wrists keeping you still tightened as he hips bucked into yours. You thew your head down on the table unable to see the tv clearly anymore due to the jolting of your body as he slams into you.

"President Snow, we salute you".

He came undone. Only bucking his hips weakly a few times as he finishes spilling into you.

As he pulls out he slaps your bare ass and sits down. Using your chain on your writs he pulls you off the desk.

He huffs and puffs gaining his breath back as he maneuvers one of your legs around his waist. He lines his cock up with your entrance and pulls on your hip into your seated in his lap and around his cock.

"Just sit there quietly Petal, while i get some work done".

You had no strength to hold your body up right away from him so you let yourself rest upon his shoulder. You bare chest against his.

As he moves to gather his work that was disputed when you laid across it, you could feel his cock move inside of you. You let out a frustrated moan when it tickles a spot you like.

He sh'ss you. A large, warm hand going to the Centre of your back to keep you pressed against him as he reached for a pencil.

He left the tv on and you're not sure if that was for your benefit or if he wanted to see if his good work would be talked about again. Either way it provided you with a source of entertainment often denied.

Some times he could give you a book as you sat upon bedding he provided by his feet. The back of what only be could be described as a dog bed was curved so you could rest your back. If he was really swamped with work he would get you to read and summarize documents for him.

But since your trip to the doctors you could sit and think about what you did.

The tv was a nice change from your own thoughts which were mostly hateful. Even if you couldn't see what they were doing from your position.

In the moments were he would need to stop and think about what he was doing, he would drag his hand softly up and down your back as he contemplated. It almost lulled you to sleep.

-------------------

Your hands were freed in order to help him dress for the Gala. Racks upon racks of clothing filled the offices. Lines of polished shoes

A take away blind in the corner was set up for him to undress behind. He wouldn't have bothered with it if it had just been you and him, but at least ten of the highest capital stylists buzzed around the room, with more coming and going.

His last outfit got someone fired. He reminded him of his peacekeeper days and one look in the mirror had him tearing it off.

"What do you think of this one?" he Stood in front of the tall standing mirror and

"very distinguished" One of the stylist remarked. She wore a pink wig that was nearly the size of her.

"I wasn't asking you" he snaps, eyeing you in the mirror, waiting for a response.

"Very nice" you comment.

He rips the jacket off his shoulders, "You have said that about the last four"

Coriolanus returns to the blind and whines like a child.

"very nice, very good! telling me you like them before you have even looked".

You did not need his anger upon you when he was already in a uptight mood. The next one you would take your time to examine. ohh and arr over him. You were ready for him to just pick one after being at this for hours.

He reemerges in thankfully something that wasn't going to be a hard sell. The suit was white and tailored to his measurements.

the vest buttoned with small black buttons to his left hand side rather than in the middle His wore a black high necked dressed shirt under it. He had deliberately left buttons undone for You to do.

A stylist hand you the matching jacket and you drape it over you arm as you approach him. You stand between him and the mirror and started with the buttons on his waist coat.

"Very nice, Very good" you joke but his frustrated stare doesn't soften under you.

'I like this one a lot" you admit. You go up to the buttons around his throat and he holds his head up high, "You look very presidential".

The stylist mutter in agreement and you can see Coriolanus physically relax now that he has chosen an outfit.

He help him slide the jacket on to get the full picture. Brushing his shoulders so the material sits right, you take a step back and watch as he fiddle with buttons and then his watch. Wondering if it went with the suit. You assured him it did.

He didn't look so scary when acting like a teenage boy going to his first prom.

The calm is ruined when a peacekeeper enters the room and hands him a small box.

"From Tigress Snow, sir".

Coriolanus is silent as he pulls a red rose out of the box. Its clipped and pinned ready to go upon his chest. He stares at it before ripping the glued pin from the stem and turning to face you. He places the rose behind your ear, bending to whisper in it.

"i shouldn't feel so anxious. You'll be there with me after all"

You knew that you had nothing to wear for such a event, and that you didn't need to.

Coriolanus had a wife and kids. He Couldn't parade you around a party while asking people to dig deep for this years hunger games. What he did in the shadows wasn't to be held against him. Many capital men favored the taste of young maids. But what he brought to light he had to own.

You knew that you would be hidden in one of his spare rooms in the house. What you would be doing while his family entertained guests escaped you. You just hopped that he didn't bring any visitors when he called upon you at the end of the night. And you hoped clemensia was none the wiser. Fucking her husband at work was one thing but fucking her husband in their matrimonial home was another.

-----------------------

What he had planned was far worse then you could image. Peacekeepers had taken you from the estate and taken you through the back entrance into his home. Where a maid met them at the door and lead them to the function room that was set up beautifully.

Coriolanus was no where to be found and you wondered if the maid was right to lead you to a room just off side where the party was going to happen. But with two peacekeepers either side of you, you made no comment.

You realize it had been correct when she unlocked the door, showing a padded chair with restraints. The room wasn't very big, only fitting the chair a length away from the furthest wall, and two lengths away from a comfortable looking square chair and a small circular table.

You fight them as they strip you and secure you to the chair. But being twice your size and well fed, it barely hindered them. One of them gagged you so you couldn't make any noise, while the other double checked your restraints.

They left and the maid locked the room again. You wanted to cry but it seemed like wasted energy. The chair wasn't terribly uncomfortable, you knew that the worse was yet to come so you wanted to save your strength for whatever little you could do.

It was a while before the door was unlocked again. You had just started to hear music through the walls when Coriolanus entered ready for the party. He was quick to close the door and careful to block as much of the opening he could with his back.

You yell at him although its muffled.

"Petal. So glad you could make it"

He makes his way over to you, his eyes roaming along your body.

"pity you wont actually be in attendance".

he moves something from the corner, a stand with a head you could just see as he picks it up. positioning it between your leg, he then lowers the head directly pressed into your clint, and turns it on. It vibrated and rolled in a circle. causing you to jump from the sudden movement.

He spits into your cunt for lubricant and your almost grateful as the machines rolls over you pearl. It was only slow but the dryness burned.

"But I think between the two of us. You'll be the one having more fun".

he comes back up to you again, his eyes hovering over yours so you couldn't avoid him.

"Now you keep track how many times you cum for me"

He presses a quick kiss to your forehead and then left to enjoy the party as the devise rolls around and around. you buck your hips trying to take it off your sensitive clint but the straps over your hips and thigh deny any true relief.

round and round it whirls, the noise hidden behind loud music and louder convocation's.

Your first orgasm tears through you but the machine never stops, and it massagers you through it. Your hips buck up against it. the extra wetness takes away some of the pain.

you wish you could kill him.

your second one takes longer to come but hits twice as hard.

You hear the party outside but they don't hear you. You focus on the sounds produced and not the overstimulation. You listen to the footsteps, and the laughter. Even hearing the names of some of the guest.

Someone had just began to complain about the duck when your third organism spilled from your body.

By the fourth or fifth one your body ached. You were thirsty and sore, your jaw ached and your legs Shaked but the machine kept going.

You had lost count, never minding your instructions, by the time that the machine switched pace. It would vibrate like usual but be separated by a second's still. It was edging you to your next orgasm and you weren't sure if it was a mercy or a curse.

You prayed that there would be an explosion from a rebel bombing or a guest would knock a pipe in the bathroom and flood the floor. Anything to end this fucking party.

Round and round it went against your soft cunt.

The party did end of course and Coriolanus re-entered the room. No longer checking over his shoulder. The house must be empty of guests.

You were relived to find he came alone. Only a small white box in his hand. he doesn't share his toys.

he was in no rush to free you but stood watching you with a curious gaze. You beg him. Even if he couldn't unmudle the words, he knew you were.

He takes a handkerchief from his breast pocket and daps your perspiring forehead. With the handkerchief returned, he goes to the other end of you and gets a close up look at the machine rolling against your sex.

"do you think you could handle one more?" he asks and you shake your head furiously no.

He laughs at this going to take a seat. he rids himself of his box and jacket. Placing the former on the table and the latter on the floor.

'of course you can".

You farrow your eyes at him, and he stares back unbothered.

He takes out a small tablet from his jacket pocket and taps it a few times. You realize it controls the machine as the brief second pauses stops altogether and the rolling speeds up.

he seems pleased as he watches you pull against the restraints.

You could feel the next one coming as the knots begin forming in your belly. You yell once more, and Coriolanus kneads his cock through his pants at the sight of you.

You feel it pulse through you, causing your whole body to jump and squirm from the tension.

"there it is, the finale".

The tablet is pulled out again and he stops the machine. You whine from the pain as he pushes the machine back away from you.

It was over as he untied you. You were grateful.

He leaves your writs tied as he bends over to your face. He only used one hand to rid the gag from your mouth.

"Now can you tell me how many times you came?"

You didn't think it actually mattered so you guessed, "eleven"

"oh the machine says twenty-one".

was he getting notifications on his tablet while he mingled among the elite society? what did this mean for you now?

"too bad. I had cheese cake for you if you had gotten it right".

He pulls back out of your face and unlatches your wrists.

"you can suck my cock as a consolation prize".

he goes back to his chair and waits for you to ready yourself. All of your joints ached from being held down for so long. You felt ditzy from lack of food, and to top it off you had a dull ache between your legs that you were sure was going to be hell for you tomorrow.

But he had the power.

So you wombled off the chair. To your surprise he didn't rush you. He just sat patient for the first time in his life, eating your cake with a plastic fork in small bites.

You do eventually make it over to him. Your hands fiddle with the buttons and zipper of his pants. His hips shift slightly in anticipation.

If you did good, it was most likely that he would reward you. a plate of food, a warm bath. You would take anything.

You kiss along his member, small slow kisses from the top to the base. He continues to chew his cake, watching you.

You take only the tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the top. You tug his pants down further with the help of him lifting himself up so you could get his pants around his ankles.

You thank him by sliding your tongue along to his balls and popping one in your mouth. he makes a surprised sound as you suck on his balls. Normally you wanted the job done and tried your best to quicken the process but tonight you wanted to tease him in a manner similar to his.

He felt no need to instruct you like he normally did even if he could clearly see what you were trying to do. The student had finally become the master.

You stop sucking on his balls and retract to place a kiss on each of his hips. He grips you hair. In your mouth he wanted to say but you had stunned him. You felt great pride.

You do take him in your mouth. Too much teasing and he was prone to violence. But you take him slow working your way down and up at your own pace.

You felt him become restless beneath you and reach up to fondle his balls in you hand. It stilled him instantly.

You peer up at him and see his jaw his clenched and his eyes are shut. You suck a little harder and he throw his head back against the wall. he was holding in moans, you knew it. Too prideful to give you the satisfaction.

You take him out of your mouth again and return them to his balls.

"fuck, Petal" his body jolts.

His hold in you hair tightens again and you feel his gentle tug back.

Your hands go to his large thigh's now, holding him down in your weak hands.

You follow his direction back to his cock and take it all in. You bob you head like you were taught. moving up and down it at a vigorous pace.

It felt good to be in charge for once but it was all over when his seed poured into your mouth. You had gotten use to the taste of him. The salty flavor nothing new in your mouth.

You drank it down and then continued to suck which finally earned the moans he was holding back.

There it is. The finale. she thought bitterly.

But the show wasn't over yet. Coriolanus hated mess.

You licked the spilled cum clean from his cook, moving to clean the stickiness off his thigh's with your tongue next. He is receptive to it, letting you have free reign.

You give a final lick along his member before you pull back on your heals.

His breathe is heavy with pants as he collects himself.

"seeing as that was the best head of my life you can have the last bit of cake".

It was a way of regaining control over her. Remember the hand that feeds you.

He scraps the last bit of cake onto the fork and brings it down to your lips. You welcome the sweet taste to rinse your mouth out.

You collapse under the pressure of it all. Laying upon the cold floor as your eye lids flutter. You see flashes of him as he pulls his pants up and reaches down for you.

he carries you up a grand staircase into a bedroom and its adjacent bathroom. There was a prepared bath, steaming hot still.

He lowers you into it and the medical salts sting as they swarm your body. he keeps hold of your neck in case you go under and undresses himself with one hand.

He gently pushes you froward so he can slip behind you in the tub. You lay against his chest as he washes you. His strong fingers digging deep as he lathers shampoos into it.

He picks up a loofa dipping it in the water and pressing it against your skin. You feel yourself regaining strength enough to keep yourself from slipping into sleep.

He picks up your hand and begins to scrub the loofa under your finger tips.

"You should have heard them tonight. They all turned their backs to my family during the war, now they want to throw stories of my father in my face".

"You hate them" you ask. You wonder if that's why he was doing this. To get back on a former member of high society.

"yes" he answers, moving on the the other hand, "you must feel the same way amongst your current station. Above them"

You roll you head against his shoulder, "No. they're are my friend's"

you reply sleepily. Coriolanus makes no further attempts to talk.

You realized when you woke the next day the mistake you had made so it came as so surprise when Coriolanus broke the news that you would not be returning to the presentational estate but remaining here with him.

Coriolanus Snow had been hungry all his life. Hungry for power. Hungry for money, for control, for respect, for everything. But as he slips between your legs at night, and explores your body with his mouth, he feels his hunger subside.

[ladywhistlewrites]

chapter 1: The very first morning

As the fresh morning air made its way into her room, caressing her skin, the young lady Y/N was fast out of bed, pacing around her chamber. This was the day. This was the day her parents had prepared her for so diligently, the day she had prepared for so fervently. At noon, she would be officially introduced to society as an eligible young lady. Eligible for marriage, of course.

She swiftly looked at herself in the mirror of her nightstand, almost seeking something in her own reflection. “There must be a way to escape Her Majesty today,” she thought as she started combing her hair with her fingers. Was marriage truly a woman’s only calling? Was playing the piano, singing, and being a polite, flawless young lady all that life held for her? These thoughts roamed in her young mind ever since she was a child.

Surely, a woman should marry and have children if she wished so, but what if she wished for something else? What if she wished to go off to Oxford as her brothers did? Y/N was torn between what her parents wished, almost demanded, for her life and what she desired.

As she was lost in her thoughts, a soft knock came from her door. “Good morning, miss,” a giddy voice said. Y/N turned around and found Miss Olive’s smiling face. “Good morning, Olive,” she said with a smile. Miss Olive was a young girl herself, no more than six-and-twenty years of age, with a kind face and lively eyes. She had become Y/N’s lady’s maid quite recently, but she had shown herself to be a true confidant many times, as well as a very good maid indeed.

“Are you excited for today, Miss Y/N?” Olive asked, her eyes sparkling with genuine interest.

Y/N gave a small laugh. “Excited? Perhaps nervous is a better word. I am to be paraded in front of all of London society and judged suitable or not for marriage by the Queen herself. How could one be anything but nervous?”

Olive’s smile softened with understanding. “You will do wonderfully, miss. You have a grace and charm about you that no one can deny. Besides, this is just the beginning. Who knows what the season holds?”

Y/N appreciated Olive’s optimism but could not shake off the feeling of apprehension. She had seen how the season could make or break a young lady’s prospects. It was a game, a matchmaking game, and she was expected to play her part. But Y/N had always wondered if she could be more than just a pawn. Could she be the protagonist of her own story, taking the reins of her own destiny? Or perhaps she would breathe the air of libertinism and embrace the changing times?

As the morning progressed, Y/N was dressed in her finest gown, a delicate creation of lavender silk with lace trim that complemented her fair complexion. Her hair was styled in an intricate updo, adorned with tiny pearls that caught the light. She looked every bit the baroness she was born to be, yet her heart yearned for something more.

“Miss Y/N,” Olive said softly as she adjusted the final pin in her hair, “remember that today is just the beginning. You have the power to shape your own destiny. Do not let anyone dictate your path.”

Y/N looked at her maid and confidante with gratitude. “Thank you, Olive. I will try to remember that.”

With a deep breath, Y/N descended the grand staircase of her family’s townhouse, where her parents awaited her. Her father, a stern yet proud man, gave her an approving nod. Her mother, ever the epitome of grace, took her hand and squeezed it gently. “You look beautiful, my dear. Today, you will captivate the Queen and all of London.”

Y/N smiled, though it felt more like a mask. “Thank you, Mother.”

As they made their way to the carriage that would take them to Buckingham House, Y/N felt a flutter of anticipation mixed with dread. This was her moment, the beginning of her season.

The bustling streets of London passed by in a blur as Y/N contemplated her future. The carriage came to a halt, and she was helped down by a footman. The grand entrance of Buckingham House loomed before her, a symbol of the society she was about to enter.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N stepped forward, ready to face whatever the day would bring. This was her debut, her introduction to the world. And in that moment, she resolved that no matter what happened, she would remain true to herself.

As the grand doors opened and the sound of polite conversation and laughter filled her ears, Y/N lifted her chin and entered the hall. The eyes of the elite were upon her, and somewhere in the crowd, the Queen awaited her presence.

Would she captivate the Queen with her kindness, wit, and grace? Only time would tell. But one thing was certain: Y/N was determined to make this season her own, to write her own story, and to find her own path in a world that expected her to conform.

With every step she took, Y/N felt a growing sense of empowerment. This was her season, her story, and she would make it unforgettable.

******

author’s note:

first chapter officially out!! see you next Friday!

[azure-cherie]

𝑷𝑨𝑪 : 𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒅𝒐𝒏𝒕 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇

Pile - 1-2-3

Please choose with your intuition. Only take what you can relate to as this is a general reading

🕊️Masterlist

🕊️Paid services

❦︎𝓟𝓲𝓵𝓮 1:

Hii dear pile 1 I hope yall have been well . No matter how much you like to be in the shades or how much you are of an introvert , did you know that you make n excellent leader , that under your guidance, finest of the lillies shall bloom . You might think that you ar a thinker but my dear , your gut feelings are stronger and lead you better , you better start acknowledging them , don’t lose your command on who you actually are , your gift can save you . You're well balanced , being a little more organised is something you really wanted to be for a long time, and you don’t have to sabotage yourself thinking youre not already , you are really doing good and you will continue to do it , sometimes its okay to leave room for unpredictability . You sometimes feel scared of things , get into the depth of this matter , is this coming from an older thought you have . Are you letting go of an important material prospect excusing saying its because you have been spiritually involved . For ex : even though you have to save up for the month , you tend to buy weed , just an example tho . Youre going towards something coz you think you like it , in this case it might be a relationship , but do you seee this person reciprocting or are just going mindlessly into the abyss , spirit wants you to take some time and evaluate your choices . Please don’t sabotage yourself into thinking that your struggles are less than anyone elses , recognise and accept that you have toxic parents and that life can go wrong . You bring people with so much clarity about themselves , like you are a start for spiritual awakening for people .you might have suffered a great loss and might be lowkey right now , but to lt you know , these people hold no grudge and judgements and they already love you , think youre confident and outgoing , this applies for family and close friends .

❦︎𝓟𝓲𝓵𝓮 2 :

Hii dear pile 2 I hope yall have been well. You right now might have been isolated because you confronted someone for their ill doings , you did what should be done and it has left you alone and you might be confused about what has happened and why , but don’t worry this thing that has occurred is a building block to what you are becoming in the near future. You are really a loyal friend , do not worry about what others say or do. Youre very abundant and you draw so much inspiration from everything around you , what others don’t see , you see , you do it so well . You might be overusing your resources , to a point where you could face problems so be head on about where and how you are spending your money . You're intuitive , you might be a witch , someone from your blood line was one , you are also blessed with those powers . They try to give you signals through your dreams , learn to see the meaning behind those common looking words . You have achieved a lot , almost to the point of satisfaction , now you want to call people over and celebrate so mote it be you are a party girl and its amazing . Youre analytical , perfectly intelligent and logical and at times you feel shy to accept compliments but that’s just who you are so accept and cherish it . Lastly I get you might be obsessing over something and ignoring whats already there , already handed to you , don’t loose what you have because of a delusion .

❦︎𝓟𝓲𝓵𝓮 3 :

Hi dear pile 3 , hope y'all have been good . You don’t know that youre in love , because of something that has happened in the past has lead you to close your heart , youree beautiful but broken , but I don’t see that as being much of a concern for you right now as youre very slef assured and satisfied with what you do , a change is necessary . For the other lot of you , this is a confirmation for you to get married , yes the love has carried on , don’t be afraid of commitment . You have a very good communication style and people value what you have to say . I also get that some of you might be dissociating bad, like not realising that something has happened to you , being one of those people who shut themselves when something happens to them . Open your eyes youre not what they made you , you will be what you choose to be , you think the damages are irreversible but you got a long way to go , chin up bestie . You have achieved my dear you must treat yourself with something , maybe velvet cake or cheese cake , that’s what I get specifically . Take a break and leave for a vacation alone you have worked so hard already . Some of you here are starseeds , indigo children , you should connect to your soul family , they are always rooting for you . If you are a person who stays in the middle of arguments in work area , its okay that doesn’t give you less personality , infact you are benefitting by being in the middle as most of the people in your work place are too opionated or too judgemental . Your focus should definitely be you always.

Thank you so much for reading i hope this resonates

love love 💕

[romanoffsbish]

A Vintage Taste

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!R

Warnings: Red Room Trauma.

Smut: Mommy (N) | Doll (R) | Drugging(CNC/Viagara) | Food Play 🍓| High-Tech Strap (R) | Breeding | Overstimulation (KO) | Praising |

Word Count: 5,048

Natasha was a collector, a curator of the finest things the world had to offer. She obtained rare artifacts meant for museums, paintings made by the historical elites, and a very long list of other various means of artistic expression.

If she wanted it, it became hers, even if that meant breaking laws from time to time to secure it. Money is power, so she ruled.

——

One of the things she collected, what actually inspired her to start her life of curating, was a porcelain doll with the prettiest of features. It was given to her by her neighbor friend, Sara, as a way to say goodbye before she moved.

Natasha loved that doll more than life itself, which wasn't hard to believe with the life she'd been dealt. It broke her heart when she woke up in the army vehicle to find it was gone.

Dreykov grinned devilishly at the little girl, he held the delicate antique in his hands, she sobbed openly knowing of her cruel, twisted fate. Tears cascaded down pale cheeks as the man ripped the doll in two, tearing away her far off dream of a full life, taking away her will to fight for that dream; but it didn't die.

It was a long time before she obtained that freedom, and it's been an even longer time since she escaped to chase a new one.

A dream that lead her right to you.

She remembers the first time she walked down the streets of New York with Clint, he'd taken a strong liking to her. A paternalistic need to show her love, and to show her how life could be; the inspiration for his willingness to walk down the streets of a bustling Manhattan.

He was blabbering on about all he'd planned for the day, just to find he'd lost her attention to a little hole in the wall thrift shop. He had jogged back to her, ready to scold her for not stopping him, but he paused at her expression.

Natasha was transfixed on a doll, he'd seen her reflection surrounding it, slightly muffling its features, but he saw the redheads clearly. There was a spark of vulnerability in her eyes that he knew ran deep, it was the first time he'd ever seen her walls fall like this. It was sweet.

Clint shook his shoulders of his trepidation for the sake of the redhead. Superstition had him in a chokehold but he didn't have it in his heart to break hers so he bought the 'creepy' hunk of porcelain for her anyways. Then he silently vowed to take a bath in salt to placate karma.

Years later he told Nat about that feeling, and his noble act of bravery. She then watched in amusement as the Avenger jumped at the sight of five dolls clustered in a corner. Laughing in his face mockingly as she felt truly offended.

His words of misfortune proved untrue, only a year after she found that doll did she find you.

Her precious Y/N, you were the picture of perfection in her eyes that only sparkled for you. Your gorgeous features showed of an equally as tormented upbringing, but your heart radiated with a joy that was unfazed.

You kept your heart, and made her reminisce.

You were undeniably warm, she was shivering. So she gravitated to you without fear, her eyes hopeful, and you took her in without question.

Now Natasha sits in her reading cove, watching the rain pelt against the slanted windows of the roof. Nervously she tapped her short, red nails against the cracked spine of her favorite book as she anxiously awaited for you to return.

You'd only had to drop the kids off with Yelena, which she knows is a half hour trip with your fifteen minutes of silly gossiping at the door.

"Kate Bishop" this and "Natalia" that, she knew the drill, and she wholeheartedly adored it.

But it'd been over an hour now, and you weren't answering any of her texts or calls. Never did she let her defenses fall, retirement for her didn't come with the dream of peace. It came with risks, and to lose her edge over the enemies could be catastrophic for many.

Natasha breathed a sigh of relief, if not for the sudden, and adored sound of gravel crunching beneath tires she'd have called for backup.

"Where were you?" Natasha shrieked as she graciously made her way down the slippery cobblestone steps with an umbrella meant to shield you from the storm. You waited in the drivers seat, a knowing glint in your eyes as she reached for your hand to safely guide you out.

She'd always been so cautious with you, her fragile doll from the very first day you met.

Natasha was enamored by you, and you were just as curious about her. The attraction was instant, and the relationship moved fast.

You shook your head with a silly smile as you looked down to her bare feet, eyes curious as they moved up over her delectable, creamy thighs exposed to the world, and finally over the swell of her breasts to thin camisole straps.

Natasha smirked, then winked. "I'm Russian."

You cackled, head thrown back, the jolt was more than enough to make Natasha's hand move to your back to stabilize you. Effectively pulling you closer, lips hovering over yours as she whispered: "Where were you doll?"

You swallowed thickly, arms wrapping around her neck so you could kiss her swiftly. A failed means of distraction, her question only being hotly repeated into your mouth. You'd wanted to surprise her, but the chance was fading.

"I had to get Lena some groceries," you start, "She agreed to have the kids all week if I only got her enough food to satiate Milo's appetite."

"And her own I'm sure," Natasha teased.

You giggled, "Yeah, when I found fifteen boxes of mac and cheese on her list I realized that."

Natasha rolled her eyes but kept her smile fond. Her little sister was so childish it was adorable, but say that word to the blonde and suddenly it becomes an apparent falsehood.

"Then I had to get another epi-pen for the car for Eli as I gave the actual one to Yelena."

Natasha hummed, her agreement clear in your thoughtful decision. "You're so precious."

Your nosed scrunched and Natasha swooned. You'd always get even more adorable when she spoke so sweetly to you, cherishing you into a state of awkward appreciation. Love abounding in a way that almost felt suffocating, but you managed to settle into the warmth every time.

Her love was a safety net you hardly ever left.

Your lover saw the look in your eyes had hazed over some, she knew you had clear intentions for how tonight's going to go without your four year old son, and two year old daughter here.

"I also got us a few groceries as well," you say suddenly, popping the lust cloud swarming around your heads. Natasha nodded, and then wasted no time passing over the umbrella, and ushering you into the house, saying that she'd grab the groceries from the back seat for you.

You hesitated, but relented. She pecked your lips softly. "Hold onto the railing sweetheart."

"I will mommy," you appeased, purposeful in your chosen phrase as you ascended into the cottage. Lingerie you managed to hide burning the skin beneath your thick grey overcoat.

Natasha was hot on your heels, she tossed your bags of food onto the hardwood table without much consideration to if you'd gotten eggs. Her greedy hands pushed you into the marble counter, but before she could fully pounce your hands pressed to her chest. "You're dripping on my floors Natalia, take a shower, and relax."

You were playin dumb now, Natasha loved it, feigning shock at her movements as if you didn't egg her on with the use of your words.

Natasha acquiesced, leaving you to reheat the borscht you'd prepared the night before, knowing that it's best served reheated. Giving it ample time to steep in a fridge overnight.

While she took an expectantly fast shower you unloaded your groceries, and began to make a half dozen chocolate covered strawberries for a dessert, you then slipped them into the freezer.

You grabbed wine glasses, preparing your wife a glass of white, before topping off your own.

Then you pulled the bread from the oven, the outside was crunchy, and the rest soft. You plated two each on your finest China bowls, smeared them with butter, then lifted them moments later to layer the borscht beneath. 

Natasha made it down just in time to see your bare ass before you were taking your seat. She looked you over with disdain for your apron.

You looked her over with your breath caught in your throat. It appears you were no longer the only one teasing, she'd joined, and played well.

The redhead had settled on slipping into a grey, ribbed tank that fit tightly to her body. Her bulky muscles were flexed as she curved her arms beneath her breasts, shifting your attention to them without a stutter in gaze.

Natasha smirked as she took her seat across from you. "Dinner looks great doll, thank you for always taking such good care of me."

"Mhm." You smiled. "I love taking care of you."

Natasha dug into her food, dipping the bread into the stew, making sure to get some of the dolloped sour cream to ensure a well rounded bite. The redhead moaned genuinely as the flavors melded over her tongue harmoniously.

You chuckled, "Do you like it Natty?"

"It's amazing sweetheart, so, so delicious."

"Thank you mommy," you softly giggled, more to yourself as the redhead took a sip of wine.

It wasn't long before she yearned for you in a way that was undeniable. Yearning for you was a constant for her, but this time was different. Natasha could feel the thrum of her heart in her ears, she shook her head and cleared her throat as she felt the sensation trickling down. Landing in her cunt where she felt a pulse.

She eyed the wine in her hand suspiciously now, taking note of the granules you'd failed to dissolve. It was a purposeful choice she's sure.

Natasha saw you grinning over your own glass, you let the tainted beverage slosh against the sides, swirling the cup with confidence as you focused back in on your nearly empty bowl.

Natasha slurped her last bit down, a low groan following the lewd noise and you felt your body tense. The stimulant was working rapidly.

You collected the empty bowls, walking away with a tantalizing sway of your hips. Natasha adjusted her posture, legs manspreading as she focused on your every move. The hem of her boxers digging into her skin as her high tech strap began to harden, bulging the fabric out.

Natasha cursed the forced adrenaline running through her veins. She intended to take her time with you, but now she's not so sure she won't bend you over the counter right now.

You pulled something from the freezer, and returned with a bright smile as you plated the strawberries in front of her. They shined with the help of the condensation on the chocolate. Natasha smiled at the plate, it was sweet, and above all else appreciative—a silent thank you.

You rewarded her manners with a gasp, "Oh my Natty, I'm still wearing my apron..." She shook her head as you turned your back to her, she understood the request, but before untying it she made sure to lavish your backside with open mouth kisses and occasional love bites.

When you turned back around you looked momentarily dazed, then you were back to smiling with a glint of mischief as you lifted the apron over your head and finally let it fall.

Natasha's eyes widened as you became fully exposed to her. There were straps adorning your skin, but fortunately nothing inherently crucial was shielded from her wandering gaze.

In the sweetest way possible you'd dressed up for her. Bridging the line between heartfelt and downright depraved. With your breasts and glistening cunt free of imprisoning fabric she was ready to pounce. She originally thought being able to see your bare backside minus the thong was a real treat. This was her nirvana.

But then she stuttered as she appreciated the way black strand's holding the lingerie over your shoulders and backside change into red when she looks to your abdomen. The emblem of her retired superhero persona covers your skin, with white lace to replicate an intricate web interlaced between the hourglass lines.

Natasha beckoned you over with a slow curl of her finger, you breathed in deep before obliging her as you tried to come down after imagining her doing that inside you instead.

You straddled her lap, legs stretched to their limits as she didn't close hers even an inch. Natasha lifted a strawberry to your lips, you obediently parted them so she could push the strawberry passed them. Nat softly tutted when you naturally tried to bite into the delicacy, "Patience doll, let mommy soften it some..."

Natasha played with you, pushing it passed your lips, only to pull it out before you could manage to taste the chocolate that was melting. Fucking your mouth with a coated strawberry wasn't exactly on her sex bucket list, but when inspiration strikes, she's one to run with it.

"Take a bite baby," she finally whispered, and you bit into the strawberry, the desired crunch of the chocolate ruined by your warm lips, but you didn't mind much when the richness of the melted chocolate bloomed more noticeably.

Natasha used her thumb to catch the juice that ran down your chin, she slid the digit into her mouth with a content hum. Then she wanted more and reached out for you, hand behind your neck guiding you to lean your body into hers so she could capture your lips with hers.

Her tongue slowly slid over yours, hot and heavy breaths being exchanged as she sought to taste the dessert that laid upon your tongue. Natasha moaned as the sweet, tart flavors were able to mix so flawlessly with your own taste.

There was just always something so delicious about you, the redhead could spend hours alone just kissing you until you were out of it.

Normally she'd kiss you until your lips were swollen, and tears were flowing down your cheeks at the desperation you felt for more.

But this isn't one of those times since every single touch from you burned her, with that pleasurable ache residing in her lower belly only growing more prominent as she kissed you sloppily, she knew it was a wrap on taking it slow. It hurt, but she knew that her usual love for devouring your lips would have to be set aside, the kissing becoming shorter.

Especially when you caused Natasha to lose sight of the bigger picture, your pleasure. She groaned huskily into your mouth as your hips instinctually ground down into hers, smearing your wetness all over her cotton boxers.

The moment her strap hardened fully against her boxers you groaned, then began running your slit over it without wavering in the power of your thrusts. This idea that you'd turned her on so much that she already activated the nerve trackers in the strap to make it work made you particularly feral. The overwhelming smell of you as you smeared your arousal all over her boxers left her in the same desperate state.

"Slow down doll," she purred against your neck, her buff arms wrapped around you to keep you from still rutting into her aimlessly. "Mommy needs to eat you out sweetheart, it feels like I might die if I can't taste you soon."

Natasha didn't give you much time to respond, she simply lifted you up onto the dining room table and buried her face between your legs with a sigh of unbridled contentment. Taking what was hers, and holding no remorse. Not that she needed to with the way you were singing her praises. A cocky smirk raising her wetted cheeks as her tongue flicked over your clit and she heard as you forgot how to breathe.

"Fuck, mommy, I'm so close," you cried out as she swirled her tongue within your greatest depths. Natasha drove her tongue even deeper and your back arched off the table, your thighs trembled and you finally drenched her cheeks.

Natasha's eyes found yours within an instant, she slowly lifted her head to reveal an almost predatory smile, her lower face glistened under the soft yellow lights of your dining room, and you found yourself struck by her raw beauty.

No one could ever compare, not to you at least, she was a step above the rest in your eyes.

"What's on your mind doll?" Natasha was now hovering above you with a playful smirk, she could see you lost in something deeper than the haze, it nearly worried her until you smiled. It was goofy, and kind, a reminder of just why she loved you so deeply. "You're so beautiful."

Her heart burst with adoration, every day she found herself falling more in love with you, something she once thought to be impossible.

She never expected her life to be like this. From the mornings spent wrapped up in each other, the soft kisses you two would exchange just before the giggling commenced as the toddler’s came bounding into your bed for snuggles. To the nights like these, where your bare bodies entangled with one another’s more intimately. This life with you was like a dream come true.

Natasha leant down to kiss you, it was softer than the moment initially called for, but it was what you, her sweetest girl, truly deserved. “Thank you baby,” she whispered, smiling against your lips. “But I’m nowhere near as beautiful as the sounds you’re going to make.”

The glint in her eyes read of danger, her lips quirked up as realization washed over you just in time for her finger's to slip inside. "Fuck." Your fingers dug into the muscles around her shoulder blades as the pleasure overtook you, your head hitting the table as your back arched.

Natasha roughly nipped at the stretched skin of your throat as she steadily thrusted into your cunt, your slick was so abundant that it was pooling and leaving behind a polish for the table that was already being rubbed in by your backside that jiggled with every harsh thrust.

Once you came around her fingers with a throat scratching, incoherent scream Natasha pulled out of you against your bodies natural pull to keep her locked in place. You whined, but she pressed her lips to yours, and caught your moan as her strap easily slid inside you.

"I'm going to fuck you to sleep doll," Natasha spoke in a whisper, her teasing breath rushing over the heated skin of your neck enacting a scattering of goosebumps to rise on your body.

You felt impossibly warm, body buzzing with a need, the warmth only intensified as she licked from your throat to your earlobe, seductively whispering: "Then I'm going to continue to fuck you until you cum back to life."

To emphasize the truth in her words she rocked her hips back, then sharply thrusted back inside your dripping heat where she belonged. The anatomically ambiguous tip of her strap hit your cervix, inspiring a delicious mix of pain and pleasure to course throughout your body. You rewarded her with a moan.

Your continued flurry of sounds as she railed you were more symphonic than any of Beethoven's compositions. In moments like these, thick with infatuation and driven almost exclusively by lust, Natasha had found herself concocting devious plans. Like the one where she plans to one day open a museum for you.

One where the walls shook as your glorious sounds reverberated off of them, a continuous loop of your labored breath intermixed with whorish moans and squelching noises from her fucking your pussy so well it was singing.

There'd be photos scattered on the walls, in many forms such as: polaroids, like the one of you with your eyes crossed as she fucked her strap down your throat, or the ones of your tits. The visual possibilities would be endless.

There would also be film strips from sex tapes. They'd be raunchy stills, in sepia, scattered on a wall that surrounds a boxed off area with a single oak door meant for walking through.

Natasha would guide you in with a corrupted hand on your lower back. There'd be an old timey projector, and you'd watch with your mouth agape as videos you'd never seen before broadcast just how filthy you two can get.

Then she'd recreate those scenes with you as they played in real time, never letting your eyes stray away from the screen. Just so she could see your face when it turns into a livestream of the both of you. She imagined you'd clench around her fingers as you saw the screen, she can picture the look of surprise that would soon fade to embarrassment before bliss.

The idea arouses her to no end, especially because she knows you'd melt at the gesture. Natasha was nothing short of romantic, she made it her mission to never stop wooing you.

This would be a personal project of course, never opened to the public because Natasha doesn't much believe in the sharing is caring mantra. No, she believes instead that since she fought through thick and thin just to have you that you would be hers alone. It was only fair. You felt the same about her, whenever anyone ever came close to her in your younger years you'd send them home shitting themselves.

Possession in relationships could be rather daunting, most times it became overbearing. But with each other, it's a peaceful process, it's the only way the two of you know how to exist. More to the point, was that this was wanted.

Natasha stayed true to her promise, she always did. It was after you'd cum for her three times, with this brutal pace being set, and she'd had you teetering on another edge of unforgiving bliss that it began to become a reality.

Her first, and likely only orgasm was intense as she felt herself clench around her end. Sharp teeth sinking into the skin at the juncture of your neck and shoulder as it tore through her. Thus activating the finale you’d anticipated.

On your end you felt as the strap externally warmed, and twitched as if this was a real sequence. Then her warm, genuine semen filled the stretched space between the walls of your quivering cunt, in toe curling abundance, it even came sloshing out onto your thighs.

A silent scream echoed through the vibrations against her lips on your neck, no sound left you, but she knew. The way your body trembled beneath hers was fascinating, but it was when you completely slumped against the table that she felt her movements become feral.

“Fuck, I love it when you do this,” she grunted, her hips continued to fuck the strap into you, her arms holding up your limp legs, causing her to reach your furthest depths, and ensure her cum made it deep into your barren womb.

Natasha admired your raw beauty, your face calm, but occasionally twitching from pleasure. All too suddenly she added that extra bit of pressure to your neglected clit, and in seconds your upper body rose off the table with a shriek as you were overcome by pleasure, what’d put you to sleep had also been like an alarm clock.

“Mommy, please, no more,” you cried, as your hands tried to push her away, but it was never of any use when you did that. You knew what to say to make her stop, but you never did, because you both knew you loved this feeling.

All you ever did while weakly protesting her lust was create red lines on her chiseled biceps that she’d look to fondly the following morning as the hot water from your shared shower makes it sting. “It’s okay, let mommy make sure her seed is gonna stick doll, just a couple more seconds and then it’ll be over, I promise.”

A couple of seconds turned into a minute though, as she lazily kept up the rocking of her hips. The sloshing sound of your cunt slowly became drowned out by your whines from the overstimulation. Natasha knew you couldn’t handle another intense round, so she stilled, not wanting to work herself back up either.

The drugs had officially worn off, her urge to devour you was now back to her average, which was still high, but there’s always tomorrow. For now you needed rest. “See doll,” she purred, tongue tracing over the bruising mark she’d just left behind on your neck. “We’re all done.”

Natasha pulled out of you, slipping the plug she’d already had with her inside of you, her lips peppered your face with kisses as she too worked to calm you down. Natasha hated to see you in pain, but she wanted to ensure the third and final addition to her family took.

This was it, the last of her scientifically engineered seed, what gave her the chance at motherhood that was once torn from her, and she didn’t want to have to ask Tony, the smug man, or Bruce, the jealous ass to make more. Fortunately, with her super soldier serum in the mix the cum was potent, it’s never failed.

When you whined again, she shushed you, “It’ll be okay love, we just have to be secure.” You nodded tiredly, eyes fluttering open again as your body had regulated some. You smiled up at the redhead in a dopy, lovesick fashion. “You're always so good to me," you sighed dreamily as you met her lips for a perfect kiss.

Natasha smiled genuinely. "You're my most prized possession, you deserve cherishing."

"You're mine too," you sheepishly admitted, and the woman's eyes shone with tears that you quickly kissed as they slipped down her cheek. "My entire life is you and the kids."

At the mention of your kids, your unending love personified, Natasha grinned widely. Her hands caressed the skin of your stomach. "I hope it works." She kissed your tummy then she smiled up at you shyly. "For good luck."

"Yeah?" She shrugged then swiftly moved back up to kiss your lips with uncontainable passion. "Mhm." Her arms wrapped around your body, and she stood up with you with far too much ease. "Now let's go get you cleaned up love."

Her strength was truly mesmerizing, even after all this time with her you were still amazed that she could carry you. Especially when she still stayed so gentle after the rough sex. Natasha could break you with ease, fortunately, she never would. You were like a fragile doll, but you’re one that would never be made to break.

The redhead cleaned you both up as quickly as she could before slipping off to make a snack for the two of you to share. She settled on some carrots with ranch, and a PB & J to split, she even threw on a few chips for your happiness. After scarfing down the food, she made sure you had an entire bottle of water before she settled you onto the mattress with care.

Natasha laid behind you on her side, her arm wrapped around your waist protectively. She had you pulled into her, back pressed to her front without much space between your bodies. Every time, without fail, after a passionate night together you'd find yourself like this. The both of you cherished these sweet moments.

"I love you," Natasha whispered as she kissed your bare shoulder, breaking the peaceful silence that had settled over your bodies.

You momentarily turned to face her, kissing her lips tenderly. "I love you too Natty."

The redhead kept you there a moment longer, lips lingering over the marks already forming on your throat until she returned to your lips.

"Get some sleep doll," she softly commanded, then she retook her rightful place behind you.

The both of you were physically exhausted, but your minds were racing with the excitement of what just took place. Hope for life reignited in ways that left you restless and wide awake.

So you watched the rain run down the window, multiple lines in a race of sorts it seemed, you'd silently placed bets on the winner. "I think the one on the right is gonna win," you yawned, Natasha chuckled, "The what is gonna what?"

"It's too late," you yawned again, "I was wrong because they met in the middle and merged."

Natasha snorted, "Go to sleep now doll, you're clearly losing it." She pulled you in closer as you grumbled a hey in protest. Then you rolled over so you could lay with your face in her neck and place a few gentle kisses to her collarbone.

"Goodnight Natty." Natasha stayed up for another hour after you, simply relishing in the way your body felt so close to hers. How perfect you were under the soft casting from the moon, the subtle rise and fall of your chest a reminder that you're alive, and this love was indeed real.

Her tired eyes flitted around the room until she found the tattered doll she once adored. The one she repaired in secrecy, and that looked just like you, her wildest dream come true.

Reminiscent eyes fell back to you with ease. “Moya krasivaya kukla.” She’d smiled softly before pecking your parted lips. Your nose scrunched adorably, but fortunately you had remained fast asleep in her arms, the corner of her eyes crinkled in response. “I love you so.”

(My beautiful doll)

Natasha was once a collector, but it seemed that after she found you the thrill was gone. Expectedly so, there was no longer a need for it; she'd curated her standalone masterpiece.

[fl3shm4id3n]

ₜₕₑ ₗₒᵥₑᵣₛ

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐀𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐰𝐧. 𝐀𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝, 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭, 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐰𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: (ᴘᴀꜱᴛ) ᴀꜱᴛᴀʀɪᴏɴ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ᴀꜱᴛᴀʀɪᴏɴ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ᴛᴀᴠ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Tw: Star-crossed lovers concept, Cazador, vampirism, medieval sexism, abuse of any kind, manipulation , blood, torture, torment, violence, suicide attempt/mentioned, mentions of intimacy, death, murder, stake to the heart, angst, reincarnation. Not edited, pictures ain't mine, I got them off Pinterest.

Masterlist

Your whole life changed when your parents had sent you off to marry some Lord known as Cazador. He had been in search for a concubine. It was pretty normal for noble men to have a concubine. He could have as many as he could afford. Your parents were thrilled by the idea of you, their only daughter being with a powerful Lord. As much as you didn't to, you had to. It was your duty as their child to follow their orders. Whatever they say, goes. It was settled then, you were going to become Lord Cazador's concubine for as long as he lives. That day that you left your home, was the same day you never saw your parents again. His castle was strange, his servants were strange. They were like puppets that only followed their master's word.

The first couple months weren't so bad. Cazador was respectful, and he had given you time to adjust to your new life. He had began to spoil you, giving you things that you'd never thought you've ever see in your eyes. From the finest tailored dresses, to jewelry, makeup, books, and so on. You were basically given the life that many girls would dream off. Despite all that, it still felt strange, as if something was wrong, but you didn't put to much mind into it. You passed it as if you were home sick. As much as you tried to ignore it, the worry got bigger, as if it was a weight on your shoulders getting much heavier and heavier throughout the weeks. One night Cazador had decided to make you his. You felt nervous since you've never been with a man in your life. But that night, would be the one you'd remember for the rest of your immortal life.

Its already been years, those years became centuries. You were still Cazador's concubine. Everyday you'd wake up and just have the though of what Cazador would have planned that night. It was a routine that just kept on going. You'd wake up, and have the maid spawns come dress you. You no longer had a choice on what you could wear. It was all Cazador, he'd pick everything about your look for the night, from dresses, shoes, makeup art, hair style, jewelry and hair. Everything was either a blood red or black. His favorite colors. If you refused to wear what he'd pick out for you, then you'd wear nothing. You'd remain bare until you've learn to appreciate what he does for you. That was a way to manipulate you, he made you think that he did so much for you and the least you could do is learn to be more appreciative of what he has given you.

Its been a while since you've seen your reflection. You've almost forgot how you'd look like. Sometimes you'd spend hours and hours looking in the mirror, trying to form on how you'd look like before, but nothing. You'd just see the furniture in your room along with other things in the room. As some kind of gift, Cazador had commissioned a painting of you, he's often tell how generous he was and how he didn't have to do this. You were dressed like the night that you had been turned into a vampire spawn. Sitting still as the artist painted your every detail. You'd look at that picture as if it was the only thing keeping you alive. That painting made you remember on how your face might have looked like. But there was one thing that you didn't like, and that was the scar on your left side of your neck. It was a scar, caused by Cazador's bite of that night. It may have been a small detail, but it was noticeable. It was also some kind of reminder of what he had done to you. Everything you'd see that small bit of the painting, you'd feel a sharp pain on your neck, right on your now scarred side. Sometimes you wish you could cover it, but due to the dresses you wore, you weren't able to.

Whenever you'd disagree with Cazador on something, he'd threated to burn the picture and to never get you a new one. You'd often cry and beg on your knees for him not to do it, also to forgive you for speaking out of term. He seemed to love making you cry, he'd watch how the makeup would roll down your cheeks, messing it up and how you were on your knees with your head on the floor, begging or how'd you'd hug his knees and cry in desperation. It was some kind of sickening pleasure of his. He also love to torment you to the point that you have a breakdown. It would happen constantly, you'd never catch a break.

Not only that, but you were force to learn how to play instruments. As a way to entertain yourself and Cazador. When it came to string instruments, he'd have you play for hours and hours until your hands sore. If you'd mess up a note, you were force to restart and play the instrument until the tips of your fingers bled, even your nails would break and dig into your already cut and bleeding skin. When you were done, your hands would be shaking and raw, with blood running down your hands and fingers. You also liked to embroid, or at least he liked how you'd embroid. If he didn't like the work, he'd have you start all over again, or he'd make you sew until you hands were weak. He just loved seen you in pain. He loved watching you tear up as you sewed and played instruments, in pain. As a way to 'heal' you, Cazador would lick and bite at your bleeding fingers, to add to the pain.

Some nights you wished you could just walked into the sun, but that was impossible. Most of the night you'd be in your room. For hours, only coming out when Cazador would want you to, he'd basically keep you locked in. You barely spook to the spawns at times. Sometimes you'd write down notes and slide them under the door for the spawns to see. This was a form of punishment, even though you didn't do anything to get punished. Not just that but the only way for you to have blood was by begging for him to allow you to feed, he'd leave you starving for days until you were fed up and needed a doze of blood. But he'd have you drink the blood from his mouth, as much as you didn't want to, you did. You had the choice to just stop feeding and either go insane and violent. But you knew he wasn't going to allow you to do that. If you attempted to, it'd become worse.

One night things were different, Cazador had been gone for a while. You assumed he was probably looking for another mortal to fall for his trap and make him another spawn. That night you were in your room again, looking at the empty mirror as if you were trying to find yourself again, but you knew that was useless. Then Cazador bursted in the room. Causing you to flinch an grip onto your clasped hands much harder, digging your nails into your skin, fearing that he might due something to you, again. Then he introduced you to his new spawn. A man. He was in his late thirties, with brown hair, pale complexation, green eyes and his clothes were dirty, as if he was covered in dirt. You noticed that his right side of his neck had wound, a bite. That was already scaring. The other spawns didn't have those markings. Except for you and now him. You learned that his name was Astarion.

Once you were introduced, he made his new spawn get on his knees and kiss the toe of your shoe. This was something he'd have his spawns do, just to see them on their knees, humiliating themselves, by kissing the toes of your shoes. You'd often say that you were his one and only high raking 'Spawn Concubine'. As much as you didn't want him to go through that humiliation, he did so anyways. He already seemed scared of Cazador and what he'd do if he didn't do what he wanted. As he began to get up from his knees, you and him locked eyes. You could see the fear in each other's eyes, as if it was reflecting. You were both scared of him. And he knew it. Not only that, but he loved to see the fear that you both had.

That same night in your room, you could hear the screaming happening in the cellar and the smell of blood. You could hear how Cazador was already 'branding' his knew spawn, just like the others. You didn't get branded like they did, he'd explained to you that you're above the spawns and there for you shouldn't be branded, besides. He had already branded you. It was a reminder on your neck. For the attire night you could hear the screams echoing through the castle, as much as you wanted to not hear it, you weren't able to muffle out the noises. You felt horrible not being able to stop Cazador's torture. Last time you attempted to, was bad.

Then Cazador had come up with a great idea, his new pet, would now be in charge of going out and bringing back a prey for him and you feed on. He believed that Astarion had the perfect face to lure in any person he got his eyes on. Astarion tried to refuse and disobey, as a punishment, he locked him up in a cellar for over a whole year. With no light what so ever. You had tried and asking Cazador to please let him out, but he refused to listen. You were his concubine, not his wife. He never made you his wife, because he knew that if he did, he'd have to treat you as his equal. So he never married you, he only kept you as his concubine, as his possession for his pleasures. Finally, Astarion had been out of the cell, except his appearance changed. His once brown hair was now white and his once green eyes were now a blood red. That whole year in the cellar had changed him. Since then on, he began to obey his master.

So he began to bring back a prey, either a man or a woman. Cazador would be pleased with this, and would 'reward' him by giving him a rat to feed of. If Astarion refused to eat the rat, then he'd be killed by the other brainless spawns. You and Cazador would feed from the victim, together. He'd go for the neck and you'd go for the wrists, you were never allowed to go for the neck, if you did. Then you'd be punished severely. He'd just add that you should be greatful that you're allowed to feed. Some victims he'd keep as his spawns and others he'd kill just for his fun. This went on for a couple of years.

During those years, you had actually grown close to Astarion. You knew he only did what he did for survival, like you. You normally wouldn't ask Cazador for anything, but you had asked him if Astarion could he your personal servant, when he isn't out getting a prey. He found it odd, but allowed it. He saw no harm in that. So you had Astarion be with you for most of the evening and nights he wasn't out. He was shy at first, he thought that you too were like Cazador, due to his master's concubine and because you had a much higher rank. Except you were different. You too were a victim, except you weren't treated as a spawn, but a possession.

Him and you did a lot of things that you'd normally do on a daily. When you'd practice playing an instrument, Astarion would watch and listen to you. He too began to learn to play when you had offered to teach him. Same with reading, you'd read him books that Cazador had given you throughout the centuries. This was something new to Astarion, ever since he was brought by Cazador, he'd be constantly tormented by him. Until you had stepped in and asked for him to be with you at all times. When he wasn't out. Not only that, but you were kind to him, at first he thought you were the same as his master, but no. You were way different than the man you both feared.

Astarion loved to spend his time with you, it gave him some reason to not give up. Your kindness was keeping him alive in a way. At times when you weren't together, he'd be staring at the painting of you, hanged in the middle of the stairs of the castle. The way that you were painted was angelic like, you looked like a Queen. But he also noticed the same scar on your neck. Of course he knew that it was Cazador's doing. Besides that, you were just so beautiful. He almost couldn't believe that you were kind to him. Every time he'd be back from getting a prey, he always looked forward into being with you for a couple of days.

You were surprised Cazador had allowed this in the first place. Because you were often kept isolated front he other spawns and weren't really allowed to form any kind of friendship with them. That's the biggest reason why you'd be locked up in your room and barely able to speak with them. But Astarion seemed to be the only one you were allowed to speak to, for a while before he becomes a brainless spawns like the others. You hoped that it didn't lead to that. You really liked your new friend, it was as if you and him had formed a bond. A friendly one at that, but you felt more towards the now white haired male. It felt wrong in a way, but at the same time.

That evening was a nice one, you were doing your needle work with Astarion. Working on a black shirt that belonged to Cazador. You were sewing with a gold colored threat. Making flowers. That night Astarion didn't have to go to get prey. It was a nice and quiet, and no Cazador lurking by, since he had to take care of some 'business'. You were used to him disappearing out of nowhere with the excuse of being busy. You were to focused on the peacock you were working on while Astarion tried to follow your lead. You began to teach him how to embroider since he had asked and he was curious on your handy work. He had seen your work, specially on his Master's clothing.

Astarion was focused on the cloth in the hoop, trying to match the flower that you were making. Then he pinched his finger with the needle. Hissing in pain and dropping the hoop. You stopped what you were doing, looking over to him. You placed the shirt down and moved over towards Astarion. "Let me see." You said, then you took his bleeding finger into your hands too look at it. "I'm fine my lady." He said, respectfully. Watching you care for his pricked finger. You then leaned down and gave his injured finger a kiss. He felt his face heat up, by this gesture. You've done this so many times, and yet it feels like the first time. You didn't seem to mind getting blood on your perfectly red painted lips. You looked over at him and smiled. "Better?" you asked him, seen the flush look on his face, he nodded almost shyly like the first time you met.

You both locked eyes. Remaining frozen as you both looked at one another. You didn't even realize how you and him began to lean into one another. Slowly closing your eyes, then you both kissed. Your cold lips molding into one another's, softly. You've never been kissed this nice and sweet before. Cazador was rough and impressment. But Astarion? He was slow and passionate. You placed your hands on his shoulders, as a way to hold onto each other. He then snaked his hand at the back of your head, carefully holding your head up. Not wanting to mess up your perfectly combed hair with many hair pens and other flowers adorned to it.

The kiss was short, you pulled away and looked at him. He did the same. You didn't have to exchange words, it was clear that you and him loved that kiss. And you wanted to kiss him again. So you did, you kissed him again, a bit more eager this time. He followed your lead. You both completely forgot about what you were doing before. Now you were focused on this. You laid your body on the soft cushion of the couch. Pulling Astation on top of you. He didn't hesitate to get on top of you. He placed himself between your legs. As he continued to kiss you, more deeply. Then you ran your hand up his white shirt, feeling his cold skin against your cold fingers. Slightly touching his scarred back. Asatrion was too caught up in the moment to care, he took began to slide his hand up your skirt. Feeling your soft and delicate skin. He then pulled away and look at you.

You had a look of concern. "I'm sorry, did I do something wrong?" you asked nervously. "No, it's just. I don't want to take advantage of you. I wouldn't want to do something that might hurt you." He explained, you knew what he said was true. You placed your hands on both sides of his cheeks. "It's okay, I want this to happen. But if you don't, then I understand." You responded, with a small smile, as a way to comfort him. "I do too, but before we go any further. Please tell me that I have your consent. I wouldn't want you to be hurt... like he has hurt you..." he said worriedly. It was no secret that Cazador always got what he wanted no matter what. You understood why he'd ask for your consent. "You have my consent, but I have yours?" You asked him, it was only fair that you'd asked for his since he asked for yours. Astarion gave you a genuine smile. "Yes, you have my consent." He responded. Then you and him went back into kissing on another. You were too focused on one another that you didn't even noticed that you were actually being watched.

It's been a while since that happened. You'd think about that night a lot. You've never been intimate with anyone, besides Cazador. But this was a new form of intimacy, Astarion actually cared about what you wanted. Unlike his Master who didn't care about anyone but himself. You felt shivered running up your spine, just thinking about Astarion's hands touching your cold skin again. As much as you wanted to do it again, you didn't want to get caught but Cazador and have Asatrion be punished. If anything, you'd be the one to take the punishment instead of him.

Then the doors of your quarters were open, it was Cazador, he looked much calm, very calm. It was almost concerning. "My dear, may I have a word with you?" He asked, you felt a lump build up in your throat and you got nervous. "Yes, what is it?" You asked him, trying to remain calm as possible. "I've heard something from one of the Spawns. That you and Astarion engaged in something, that didn't involve, embroidery." This made your non beating heart sink, now he knew. "Just say yes or no. No need for an explanation. Just yes or no will be fine." He explained to you. There was no hiding it, he knew and you know what happens when you lie to him.

Taking a deep breath, you answered. "Yes, we did, what you think we did." You responded. Cazador only nodded, then he walked closer to you, taking your hands and brought you up from the bed. He looked at your eyes for a moment, then he leaned in for a kiss. That was odd, he was calm? You thought, as he continued to kiss you. Then he pulled away, placing his hand on your cold cheek affectionately. You only stared at him, confused. "How I'm going to miss those eyes." He said, only making you even more confused. Then your eyes widen and tears developed in your eyes. A strong pain grew in your chest.

Looking down, you saw a wooden stake, piercing through the red decorated fabric of the gown. Blood already pooling on your chest. You looked back at Cazador who had a look of displeasure, with the stake in his hand. He pushed it further and pushed you down, making you whimper. Then you fell to your right side, you were having a hard time breathing in pain. You touched the now bloodied stake. Attempting to pull it out, but it was no use, you'll be dead in a bit. Your hands were shaking aggressively. Laying on your back, in pain and tears pooling in your eyes. As you tried to keep your eyes open, it was no use. You were growing weaker by the minute, the last thing you saw was Cazador watching you die as someone had come in to the courters.

As soon as Astarionn saw you on the floor, bloodied. He couldn't help but feel a wave of shock grow in his eyes. He covered in mouth in disbelief. Seen your now deceased corpse on the floor. With a stake to your heart and blood on your beautiful gown. He didn't hesitate going over and pulling you towards him. "No no, my lady." He whimpered, trying to see any sign of life, but nothing. You were gone, forever. "Be grateful that it wasn't you. I wouldn't want to loose you too soon now." Cazador taunted at him. Astation was more focused on you. He felt all sorts of emotions going on in his mind. All he could do is hug you close to him, holding your head near his lips. Trying to process what was happening. He had accidently touched the blood that was pooled on your gown and accidently smeared it on your left side of your face. He couldn't believe what was happening.

He stayed frozen with your body in his arm. Mumbling that he was sorry many times. Wishing that you'd wake up at any moment now. But now, you remained limp, not moving one inch. You were gone, the love of his life, was gone. He was forced by Cazador to let go of your body, he didn't want to. He too wanted to get flayed just to be with you again, but he knew that his master will not allow it. Your body had been burned, along with most of your belongings and such. As a way to erase you for good. Despite burning everything that you owned, that was not going have Astarion forget about you.

Two centuries had already passed and Astarion had still not forgot about you. You were in his mind for ages, he still remembered your face, smell, voice, everything. He was not going to allow your memory of you to be forgotten. The painting of you had been moved into Cazador's quarters since he had decided to keep it as his biggest trophy. Astarion had got a few glimpses of the painting when entering the room, he hated the fact that he painting was moved. But one night, he got a small sheet of paper and pain, drawing only your face on the painting. He did a decent job drawing your features, they weren't the best, but he did what he could. He also left out the scar on the left side of your neck, knowing that you didn't like that scar. He kept the picture with him at all times. He would spend hours and hours looking at it. He'd tear up almost all the time, allowing his tears to land on the soft vanilla colored paper. Often wishing that it was him who got staked instead of you. You didn't deserve to die so coldly by HIM.

Then he got captured by the mindflayers and things headed towards another direction. He was taken far from Baldur's Gate, with a tadpole inserted in his brain and now he had to find a way to get rid of it. Just great, that's exactly what he just needed. Then he came across a party of people. Maybe he could join them and help them get back to Baldur's Gate, as well as whatever needed to get done. Perhaps he could use his charm for his advantage. It was an easy plan, but then, he set his eyes on their leader. He couldn't believe it, was it possible You had the face of someone he knew, someone he loved many centuries ago. Perhaps, you may remember him in a way? Or did your new life had made you forget about him? Whatever it was, he wanted to be with you in your new life, maybe he could protect you better or even start an actual relationship with you, but will he fall for you or the person that you once were?

ₙₑₓₜ ₚₐᵣₜ

[facioleeknow]

Dessert ° Hwang Hyunjin

Your vampire boyfriend loves to treat you and take care of you, in more ways than one ;)

Wc: 893 Genre: smut 18+ ONLY, Vampire AU

Tw: smut, Vampire Hyunjin, oral, biting, blood, blood drinking, mention of food and eating, public sex

Part of my valentine's day collab!

When Hyunjin told you the truth about what he really was you were shocked to say the least. It took you some time and some pondering to accept his nature and to not instinctively be afraid of him. The thought of breaking up with him did cross your mind but the way he behaved was not dangerous, in fact he cherished and protected life. The love you felt for him was way too powerful to ignore and when you went back to him, he welcomed you like you never left, with open arms.

Having a vampire boyfriend had clearly its downfalls; he was an undead creature and to survive he needed to take life from others. It was a bloody life, literally. But it also had its perks. Hyunjin had lived thousands of years, had hundreds of lovers and knew his emotions and what he wanted. That sureness was what attracted humans the most, the confidence he exuded was intoxicating. It was also what pulled you in at first, that confidence, and what made you feel safe now as months had passed and you were well into your relationship.

Another perk was the money. He was loaded because he didn’t need to eat nor drink nor do most things that humans spent money on. It would be a lie to say that you didn’t like being spoiled. And spoil you he did,he always bought you the finest dresses and jewelry and offered you the most delicious food.

That’s why when a box arrived at your house on valentine's day with a simple “wear this tonight “ note, you weren’t surprised, nor were you surprised when he parked his car in front of one of the most expensive restaurants in town.

He had booked a private room for you two, “only the best for you my love” he said and then the chef had dropped your food off and left. You were alone.

The food was amazing, everything melted in your mouth and the different flavors were paired so well together that a little gasp escaped your mouth. Hyunjin chuckled at your reaction. He wasn’t eating, he had told you once that human food all tasted bland to him after he was turned, but he had a glass of wine in his hand that he sipped lazily. 

You devoured the meal under Hyunjin’s attentive gaze.

“It was great, baby. Thank you,” you looked at him with shiny eyes. Your boyfriend simply grasped your hand and started to gently drag his thumb along your smooth skin.

“How about some dessert, my love? We could split it,” he asked with a sultry voice. Your brows furrowed in confusion.

“You don’t like human food.”

“You are right, my love, but there is one dessert that I particularly love.”

You gasped in excitement,  it was the first time you heard of Hyunjin liking human food.

“Then we should order it,” you looked around for a waiter to no avail.

“There is no need, my love, it’s here already,” he smiled at you wickedly.

In a matter of seconds the plates were on the floor and you were propped on the table. 

“Hyunjin, the plates,” you whimpered as you felt his fingers drag along your thighs, left bare when your  dress rode up.

The vampire’s cold fingers creeped up your thighs and reached your hips.

“No panties? Naughty girl,” he purred in your ear.

“It’s your valentine’s present, do you like it?” you gasped as he kissed and licked at your neck.

“I love it, my love, I need to reward you for this fantastic present.”

Hyunjin gently pushed you to lay your back on the table, his fingers slowly pried your legs open and his eyes fixed on your already wet cunt.

“Baby,” you squirmed, trying to close your legs.

“You have the prettiest pussy, my love,” he moaned at the sight of you. 

His tongue delved between your legs, little moans and whimpers could be heard both from you and him. His long fingers massaged your thighs firmly. He lapped and sucked at your swollen clit, sending waves of pleasure up and down your spine.

“Baby, I feel empty,” you whined. Hyunjin hummed, the vibrations making you see stars. His pointer finger pushed against your little hole. Your pussy swallowed his fingers greedily.

Your back arched off the table, Hyunjin always made you see stars.

“Baby, can I drink? Just a little,” he begged.

“Please Hyunjin, bite me.”

You felt his tongue leave your clit just to be replaced by his thumb. He rubbed at your little bundle of nerves mercilessly while his fingers scissored inside of you, you wouldn’t have been able to last long if he kept that up. His sharp teeth delicately nipped the skin of your thigh and then sinked in, at the same time his thumb pressed more into your clit and started rubbing with more vigor. 

Your boyfriend let out a little moan at the taste of your blood, but it only lasted a moment as he parted from you a second later.

His mouth swiftly got back to his place between your legs. His fingers bent and pushed against that sweet sweet spot inside you, his mouth sucked harshly at your pussy.

The knot inside your stomach snapped and you saw white. The pleasure overwhelmed your senses.

“Sweet as always.”

[thebestofoneshots]

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 10.7 K Warnings: None Prompt: Some of Peter's ideas have very convenient fundamentals... This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovely: @aremuslupinsimp

Chapter 33: More Than a Feeling

November 30th, 1976

You knocked on the door before you entered the class. Seraphina was standing beside her desk and nodded to let you in. You smiled and went straight to sit next to Remus. He had carried your bag and placed it on the seat next to his, to save a space for you. You smiled when you saw him and thanked him silently as Seraphina continued to talk. 

She was going on about dark magic and how bIood is often involved in rituals of its kind “As you know, every living being has magic cursing through their system. But it’s not quite that it emanates from them but rather that you have the capacity to store it. Muggles don't have such an ability, which is why they cannot wield magic like we do. Some people can use this magic more than others, and some can learn to improve their capacity to store and to use the magic around them for spells.”

“Is this a first-year class?” A Hufflepuff girl scoffed behind you. 

“And while this seems like basic knowledge, it goes a lot deeper than that, Miss Anderson. Those who wield magic for many years, start developing changes in their system. From simple things like being able to do wandless magic by developing their skill to use their body and hands to cast spells, to more elaborate ones, where you alter your bIood, or even your very soul, for example.” 

There were whispers in the background after she said those words. Students knew how dangerous dark magic could be. They knew it could taint a soul and corrupt the finest of wizards. But most of them also knew that sometimes there was no other choice than to use them in self-defence. Especially with the whispers of the war, it was not unheard of that some wizards had used the unforgivables against deatheaters. 

“In this class, we have seen hexes and curses that could protect you, we’ve talked about courses and magical contracts. Binding bonds and spells, etc. We’ve faced against some dangerous creatures and defeated them. We’ve duelled each other,” she threw you a look “and had some unfortunate accidents, but those are to be expected.” 

She sighed, “Today we’ll be talking about an interesting but dangerous thing. BIood rituals. Anyone have any idea what I might be referring to?” 

Lily raised her hand, “BIood rituals are the use of spells that require bIood, either a bIood sacrifice or just a few drops of someone’s bIood. They can be very dangerous and powerful, and if used to harm, they can even bind the person whose bIood has been used in the spell. They aren’t all dark magic, but they can be extremely dangerous.” 

“Excellent, Miss Evans. 10 points for Gryffindor,” Seraphina said while Lily beamed. “Indeed, they can be extremely dangerous. But it isn’t dangerous all the time. In fact, some bIood magic is used in the simplest of things. For example on magical contracts.” 

“Like the ones used in the past in the Triwizard Tournament,” Imogen said out loud. 

“Indeed Miss Potts,” Seraphina said. “Your great-great-grandma was a participant, correct?” 

“She won,” Imogen said proudly. 

“That’s right, I apologise for my ignorance on the matter. But it is correct, to put their names in The Goblet of Fire the students had to give a drop of their bIood too, as a way to bind them, since once they were chosen there was no way out of the tournament.” 

“An awful event if you ask me,” Lily whispered to Marlene, they were sitting right in front of you and Remus.

“I don’t know,” you said. “I think it was rather interesting, testing your magical skills against real but controlled threats, seems pretty cool to me.” 

“Of course, you would say that,” Lily said as she shook her head. 

“What? Why?” you asked with a small frown “I genuinely think that–” 

“Because you tend to like dangerous things sweetheart,” Remus said as he gave you a look. 

“Well that’s–” 

“You play quidditch,” Marlene intervened, “And you are in the duelling club. You like danger, the adrenaline rush and all that.” 

“You would love to be in the Triwizard tournament, wouldn’t you?” Lily added. 

“Well I never said that but… I suppose I would try signing up for it.”

“There you go,” Lily said as she turned back around “It’s the kind of thing that would suck you in like nifflers drawn to shiny things.” 

“I’m surprised you haven’t gotten in much more trouble so far,” Marlene added as she too turned around. 

Remus chuckled and you threw him a look. “Or… she’s just really good at not getting caught.” 

You scoffed, diverted at that and shoved him lightly. He just gave you a teasing smile in response. You’d realised Remus had gotten the habit of teasing you a lot more often the past few days. At least as much as you used to tease him. 

After that, you turned back to look at Seraphina, who kept talking about contracts by bIood, secret keepers, the Fidelius Charm and other kinds of magical bonds. Remus on the other hand, hadn’t quite gone back to the class. His mind had gone off, thinking about Lily’s words, what they implied and what he eventually said: Because you tend to like dangerous things, sweetheart. 

Is it possible that that is why she…

“…do you agree Mr. Lupin?” Seraphina asked startling Remus out of his thoughts.

He looked at her wide-eyed and turned his gaze to you, throwing you a pleading look. You bit your lip and grabbed your quill, scribbling something on your parchment as quickly as you could and moving it towards him as casually as possible. 

Remus scanned over your paper, but you hadn’t exactly been very specific with it either. It only said “BIood Bonds Bad?” 

Remus swallowed and turned back to Seraphina “Well, I think it’s not possible to have a certain yes or no opinion on the matter, it’s a matter of how you use them and for what. For example, if you’re using a bond to bind someone to you against their will, to make an imperious stronger or to curse their bIoodline then we can all agree they’re terrible. Dark wizard stuff even. But if you use bIood for a magical contract to make sure both parts will fulfil it, or to deepen your connection with someone or even to protect someone by sacrificing yourself, then the line becomes a lot more blurry.” 

Seraphina seemed pleased by his answer and nodded “Brilliantly said, Mr. Lupin. That is indeed why we are taking this class, and why I consider it so important. I want you to pick a position, either for or against, and then you’re going to work in teams to form a debate in which you’ll go over the good and bad of using bIood magic.” 

People started to split the classroom when Remus turned to you “Thanks,” he muttered. 

You smiled and turned to him. “What’s got that pretty head of yours in the clouds, hm?” you asked. Not even realising you had casually called him pretty, perhaps the veritaserum wasn’t completely out of your system yet, prompting you to say a lot more than usual. 

“I was thinking of someone.” 

“Someone… And may I know who that was?” 

“No.” 

You pouted, “But I helped you.” 

“Are you gonna charge in the favour?” 

“No, but telling me would be the polite thing to do,” you said with a shrug.

He pulled his head to the side as he sucked in some air with a bit of a shrug. “You’re outta luck. I’m not feeling very polite today.” 

You bit your lip at that, thinking of a clever retort when you felt two arms wrap around your waist from behind and pull you to the owner’s chest. You knew it was Sirius the moment you felt his hands on you, not because you were an expert on his hands, but because you could smell his cologne –or perhaps it was his shampoo or just him– the moment he stepped on your personal bubble. 

He then dug his face into your neck, you saw Remus advert his gaze, and you could have considered it politeness but, there was something else, you frowned looking at Remus as your eyes narrowed, and then Sirius pressed his lips to your neck, on the exact same spot he had sucked a hickey the past week and the scarlet flags lurking on the sides of your mind were washed away in an instant. After all, you were probably just imagining things, right?

“Sirius, what are you…?” You asked and he pulled his head away from your neck and pecked your cheek, his movement had been so sudden that you were startled into silence. 

“You looked so pretty from afar,” he admitted “don’t know why Moony insisted on sitting so far from me and James.”

“You were being loud, you would’ve brought us in and we would have lost more house points,” Remus responded simply. Of course, that wasn’t the reason. He was feeling a little more jealous than normal that day. Probably because you had gone and kissed Sirius on what he considered his time. On potions, you were his partner, not Sirius’.

Sirius pouted, his chin now resting on your shoulder as he looked at Moony. “So what are we, for or against?” he asked. 

“Hm? We’re all gonna be on the same team?” you asked. 

“Well duh, why do you think we’re here,” he said as he pointed at James and Peter. 

“Well... I think against is too easy,” you said. 

“What’s wrong with easy?” Peter asked. 

“It’s boring,” Remus and you replied almost at the same time. 

“Nerds,” Sirius said, chin still resting, you pushed your shoulder blades back to nudge him and he just smiled, “but the best nerds,” he added then. 

You rolled your eyes. “So we’ll be for?” Lily asked, “I think it’s a great choice.” 

“I agree,” James said a little too fast. Lily threw him a look and he just shrugged and gave her a wink. 

“Well then for it is,” Marlene said. “This is our side of the classroom anyway, isn’t it?” 

Lily nodded, and you all started to dig through your books to try and find arguments that would back you up on the debate. Learning a couple of interesting things about bIood magic with the books that Seraphina had borrowed, some of them from the restricted section. And while most things in those books were warnings about the ill use of this kind of magic, it did point out some of the uses they had for good.

The debate had gone quite fast. And while the other team had great points in their favour, in the end, all of you put up a great front against them. You thought it had been really fun, and Mary mentioned it was a very muggle way of teaching, and that she remembered having gone through a similar exercise at her elementary school before Hogwarts. Which had been rather interesting since according to your knowledge, Seraphina was a pureblood. 

Saturday, December 4th, 1976

It had been a grueling day. Apparition had finally started to involve the physical act of apparating and it was exhausting. Professor Dumbledore had taken each student one by one on an apparition so that they got the feeling of it. Some of the students that had never done it before ended up puking all over the grass. Mary had excused herself to go to the infirmary to get headache pills. Lily had thrown herself into the grass and stared at the sky for several minutes while taking deep breaths. 

Peter had to swallow his own puke, and this wasn’t the first time he’d ever apparated in his life. Remus had done quite well. He had appeared on the other side of the grass with a straight face and had walked over to you calmly. 

“It wasn’t that bad,” he said as he approached you “I thought it’d be worse.” 

You frowned at that, you didn’t remember your first time apparating, since it had been when you were a baby, but your mom would always tell the story that you cried and cried for hours after it. And then it took a small dose of calming draught to get you to sleep that night. The next time they did it, the result had been similar. Eventually, you got used to it.  But by the reactions of the students that had never done it, you figured there was no possible way that it “wasn’t that bad” which is why there was only one answer to Remus’ reaction. He was used to a lot worse. 

You almost wanted to hug him after it, but you knew he’d think it weird, and if he knew it was because you felt bad about his situation, he’d think you were pitying him. And Remus Lupin hated to be pitied. Even if it wasn’t pity what you felt, you just thought your friend was so brave, and he had gone through so much already. It's silly, you thought, but you still wanted to hug him. 

Thankfully you were quickly distracted by Sirius who went next, coming back to you from the other side completely unaffected by it, exactly like James had. The latter boasting a little about how good he was, saying it had to do with how much quidditch he practised when, in reality, had a lot more to do with how many times Effy and Fleamont had apparated him. 

When it was your turn you approached Professor Dumbledore calmly. He called you by your last name and extended his arm for you to hook yours onto. “I understand you have apparated before, have you not?” He asked calmly. 

You nodded “Yes sir, my parents have been apparating me since I was very small.” 

“Correct. Have you ever tried to do it on your own?” 

You shook your head in response, and then frowned… “Well… there was one time in my previous school in which I attempted to do it with a friend. I was young and… well we splinched badly. She had the worst of it. I had to stay at the infirmary for almost 3 whole days. She stayed for the entire week. We got detention for it.”

Dumbledor raised an eyebrow at that, “And you haven’t tried again since?” 

You shook your head. “We promised we would enrol in the class together, and then I moved… so suppose there wasn’t really a reason not to try again anymore but… I’ve been rather busy since I got here.” 

“So I’ve heard,” he said with a nod, an almost imperceptible smile on his lips. 

You gave him an awkward smile in return and he tilted his head as if asking if you were ready, to which you nodded. In no less than a second, he was apparating the two of you to the other side of the field. 

Your stomach turned upside down when you were on the other side, not because of the apparition, but because of the memories brought along with it. One second you were in class, with your arm locked on Professor Dumbledore, the next you were in the forest, launched across Barty’s shoulder against your will. 

The memories flooded your head without you having a say on it and the moment you landed on the other side you were tense, seething with anger, panic and helplessness. You blinked and tried to steady your breath, your eyes seeking something to anchor to, and you spotted Sirius, who was talking to James with a huge smile on his face. 

Two people noticed your restlessness. First, it was Dumbledore, who had seen the scenes of the memory you had accidentally projected into his mind as he apparated the two of you. You had been studying occlumency the last few days and you had unwittingly transmitted all of it straight into him. He turned to you, noticing how much less relaxed your grip on his arm felt. 

“Are you all right?” He asked calmly. You somehow managed to nod, your eyes still trying to focus on Sirius’ laugh instead of the memories that plagued your mind. But Dumbledore didn’t let go of you yet. “I would suggest you take the rest of the day off.” 

“What?” You asked, focusing your eyes on the old teacher “I’m fine I–” 

“You seem to have a lot on your mind…” He added with a courteous nod. You looked at him with eyes opened wide, breath hitching at your throat when you realised what you had done. “And you’ve also had a rough couple of days.” 

You looked at him, a serious look on your face, as you focused on your thoughts, trying to conceal what had happened the rest of that night, and attempting to leave out details like the phase of the moon and when you saw Remus. It didn’t feel like Dumbledore was trying to pry further, but you still had to try. 

“I’ll send a note to Silvanus excusing you from his class. You’ve been doing quite well on it regardless.” 

“You don’t… Will you not ask what happened?” you asked as you turned to him, “Sir,” you added as an afterthought, trying to maintain your politeness. 

Dumbledore cocked his head to the side, “If you wanted me to know, you would have come to me the day it happened and you wouldn’t be trying to conceal it. I trust in your judgement Miss (Y/LN). I’ve heard good things about you from more than one teacher.” 

You swallowed. “Thank you,” you added with a courteous nod. 

“Regardless, I do feel the need to tell you that if it ever happens again you shall come straight to me or to any other teacher to report it.” 

“Of course, sir.” Frankly, you weren’t sure if you really meant that, but you said it regardless. He nodded one last time and allowed you to go. 

The other person that noticed was way further from the two of you, he had also been talking to James when a familiar smell hit him. It was exactly the same way you smelled when you arrived at his door, barging it open with an iron poker in your hand. It was the smell of panic.

Remus turned to you in an instant, looking at the way you were desperately looking around the field until you focused on Sirius. He frowned, and then saw your entire interaction with Dumbledore, paying close attention and using his heightened senses to listen in to your conversation with the professor. 

When you eventually walked back to your friends, you moved to stand in between him and Sirius. Neither James nor the other boy seemed to notice your discomfort, in fact, Remus wasn’t sure he would be able to acknowledge it if he hadn’t recognized the smell from that night. You had a cocky smile on your face and you were pretending to be as unaffected as Sirius and James had been. To anyone, you would look like you were perfectly fine, except for the haunting look in your eyes, perhaps. Remus wondered, if Sirius looked close enough, would he be able to notice too? As he stared at you laughing at some silly joke James had made about the weather, he started feeling the urge to hug you. Of course, he wouldn’t do it, he had no excuse, and you were dating Sirius, not that it was that hard to forget, you were almost always all over each other. 

But he also knew that if he hugged you, you would know he noticed, and then you would think he was pitting you, and you hated to be pitied. But Remus did not pity you, no, he was absolutely stunned by how well you had played your feelings off, hiding them under your skin so skillfully that the only reason he noticed had been because he could still smell them. 

Regardless, Remus Lupin didn’t hug you. He resisted the urge to place his hands around your face like he had done on the shack, or to bring you close to his chest like he had when he cuddled Vixen. He resisted because he knew you weren’t his to hug, but that didn’t stop him from inching closer to you. To stand so close it was almost ridiculous the way your shoulders would rub against his as you laughed, or pretended to laugh, or attempted to do it by drowning the memories with the sound of the other boys’ laughs. He wasn’t sure which of the three it was. 

When the class was over, you told the boys you’d go make sure Lily and Mary were alright, that you would check on Mary at the infirmary with Mars after taking Lily to the room. James tried to offer himself for the job but Remus stopped him. He knew you were looking for a way out and into the comfortable silence of probably the common room or the library or somewhere. 

Even if you were a lot more relaxed now, the smell lingered just a bit, like your emotions were threatening to get out. Remus wanted to go with you, to be there for you like you had been after all the moons since you met him. But he also understood the need for time alone and time to think, and there was something in your eyes that told him that that was exactly what you needed. 

You waved the boys goodbye and walked alongside Marlene and Lily to the room. You both were holding the red-head, arms linked to each other as a way to help her keep balance. 

“It feels like I’ve been on a boat for hours,” Lily complained. 

You gave her a sympathetic look “I think I’ve got something for nausea on my cupboard,” you mentioned “Mom sent it over when she heard I fell off my broom.” 

“But that… you didn’t fall because of nausea,” Marlene said with a frown. 

“Yeah… I didn’t want to tell her I jumped off of it, to get the snitch,” you said with a grimace. Lily was looking between the two of you, trying to focus on the conversation as much as possible. But she was still dizzy. 

Eventually, the three of you made it to the room, both you and Marlene helped Lily to the bed, and then shut the curtains to make her feel more comfortable. You were rummaging through your trunk, trying to find the potion when Marlene said she’d go check on Mary. In the end, you decided to split, Marlene would check on Mary while you stayed with Lily. 

“You’re going to miss class,” Lily complained as you walked towards her with the potion finally in your hands. You gave her a look; as if she hadn’t missed a bunch of classes for you in the past week. She pouted in response “But who’s gonna give me their notes?” 

You smiled as you sat on the bed and placed your hand on the back of her head and gently brought it forwards to make it easier for her to take the potion. “Remus will be in that class, we can get his notes.” 

“With his handwriting?” Lily asked when she finished the potion. 

You gave her a look “It’s not that bad!” 

“When he charms it.” 

“You’re exaggerating,” you told her as you passed a small candy to her, the nausea potion had always been a bit bitter. 

She opened her mouth instead of taking it in her hands and you just placed it on the spot. “Is apparating always going to be this bad?” she asked you as she savoured the candy. 

You shook your head “It gets better,” you promised “I’m sure you’ll be top of the class in no time.” 

She almost snorted at that. “What are you planning to do?” 

You shrugged in response, “Maybe I’ll read ahead,” you said, “or just some fiction.” 

“I miss the telly,” she said with a pout. You smiled at that, while you did not have a television at home, you had encountered one on your walks through Muggle London and had been absolutely fascinated by it, the little screens showing moving pictures just like magical portraits but instead of having a defined person –or people– they had all sorts of stories on them. Including some of the movies you had seen in the cinema before. 

“Want me to read you something?” 

She gave you a look, and then extended her hand and passed a book over to you– a copy of “The Lord of the Rings”. 

“Oh, I love these books!” You said with a smile. 

“It’s my third time reading them actually,” she said “I read them before I came to Hogwarts and I always felt somehow connected to them,” She told you before she yawned. You smiled, realising the potion was already working its magic. 

You flipped through the pages until you found her bookmarker. It was a small blue wildflower, already dry, you took it in your hands and eyed it carefully, Lily looked up at it sadly, “Sev gave it to me a while ago,” she said casually “I can’t bring myself to throw it away.” 

You gave her a look and placed it back on the book, you didn’t exactly like Snape, and you knew why she was sad about it, but you also understood how hard it must have been for her, that her best friend changed so much that he turned against her. He had even called her a slur, a ridiculous word the pureblood assholes had invented, to say when they needed to feel superior. 

Lily saw the way you carefully placed the flower near the back of the book and nodded as you started narrating from where she had left off. Frodo and Sam had just met Legolas when you heard some light snoring from the girl. You smiled and closed the book, taking a bookmarker of your own instead of using the flower again, that way when Lily opened the book, she wouldn’t have to think of Severus, even if the blue flower was still safely tucked in the back.

You gave the girl one last look, tucking in her bed sheets with a swish of your wand before walking back towards your own bed. You stayed there for a few minutes, taking your charms book and skimming through it before setting it on the side and taking an occlumency one instead. Nightshade had given it to you after you asked, and after the ridiculous way in which you had projected all your memories to Professor Dumbledore, you knew you had to continue studying it. 

You looked at Lily one last time and decided a change of setting would be the best, especially since the low-lit space you had created for her comfort wasn’t helping the headache threatening to form as you continued attempting to read the book through squinted eyes. Besides, holding your wand up with Lumos had gotten annoying. 

Exiting the room a few minutes later, you walked straight to the common room and plopped down on the sofa, your head towards the fire so you could properly read the pages. You had been so engrossed in the book, you didn’t hear the portrait open, and you certainly didn’t notice Sirius walking all the way towards you. 

He looked at you as you read the book, moving his hands in the air to try and get your attention a couple of times, but when it proved to be useless, he decided to get your attention in a different way. He leaned closer to you and climbed on top of you, letting his head fall on your stomach as the rest of his body settled over yours. You moved the book to the side and gave him an incredulous look as he snuggled up against you.  

“You’re heavy,” you said as you playfully attempted to push him off. 

“Oh, so you only realise I’m here to try and kick me off?” he teased, looking up at you. “No hey Puppy how was class? Why do you look so tired? No, just ‘You’re heavy.’” 

You giggled at his words, “How was class, Puppy?” 

He hummed unsatisfied in response, easily hearing the sarcasm laced in your words “Awful. Kettleburn had us clean the pens of the Nifflers. They’re adorable until you have to clean things up and smell their stool.” 

“And you’ve come to lay on top of me after that?” You asked as you tried to push him off again, but he just wrapped his arms around your torso tighter. 

“Yes, because you smell nice,” he mumbled as he dug his head on the sweater you were wearing -Remus’ sweater-, “and James used a cleaning spell on me so don’t try to push me off again.” 

“But you’re heavy,” you said with a small pout. 

“Not true, you love it,” he said simply, refusing to move. You rolled your eyes but allowed him to stay. Even if Sirius was actually just slightly heavy, there was a part of you that enjoyed being cuddled by him like this a little too much. And whatever spell James had used was perfect, Sirius smelled like nothing but himself. A smell you already found intoxicating in and of itself. You sighed and took the book again. “Wait, really?” 

“What?” You asked as you moved the book to the side to look at his face. 

“Your gorgeous boyfriend is right on top of you, pretty much begging for a cuddle and you prefer reading… What is that?” he asked as he pulled the book from your hands to read the title “Occlumency?! Really? Is occlumency more interesting than me?” He added as he threw the book back, instead of falling straight on the floor, which you would have definitely reprimanded him for doing, it floated down towards one of the side tables in a gentle motion. 

You stared at the book a little impressed, especially when you turned back to Sirius and realised his wand was tucked in the pocket of his pants. He was surprisingly good at wandless magic, that you knew, but it never failed to impress. 

You turned to him with a small smirk as you leaned your hand towards his head “Sirius if you want my attention you just have to ask for it,” you said as you dug your hand into his hair.

He hummed again, closing his eyes peacefully as he felt your fingers run over his scalp, an action that reminded you a lot of how Padfoot –back when you thought he was Fang- had reacted to you petting him. You wondered if it was a dog thing or a Sirius thing. You saw him take a deep breath as he buried his head deeper into your stomach. 

“I’ll pretend that isn’t weird,” you teased with a smile. 

He turned to you with a reproachful gaze. “It helps the stool smell go away,” he said with a frown. 

You just laughed, also being a canine made you understand the appeal of smells, especially his smell, but you were never as obvious about it, besides, there was nothing as fun as teasing Sirius… Which reminded you of that talk you’d had with Peter after the quidditch game. You reached for the nape of his neck and gently turned his head to look at you, you saw the way his nose brushed on your stomach and how the tip bent just a little as he turned your eyes to yours, “You know… the other day I was talking to Peter–”

Sirius winced “Don’t tell me it’s about one of his ridiculous ideas because–” 

“Hey listen!” you told him as you smacked him lightly, “Peter is smart too.” Sirius only raised his eyebrows “Sometimes,” you added. “He’s good at Herbology and Care for Magical Creatures.” 

“And your point?” 

You rolled your eyes. “He said something and… I’ve been thinking about it for a while,” you had stopped scratching his scalp for a second and he nudged your hand by moving his head for you to get back to it, much like a dog would. You held back a laugh and continued, “he said that when their parents got him a kitten, they had to rub the kitten onto the cat to make him accept him.” 

Sirius frowned, completely lost in the point you were trying to make. “Is this your way of trying to convince me to get a kitten? Because I don’t like them.” 

You laughed. “No, I have enough pets with you lot being my friends.” He looked offended and leaned his head to give a soft, playful bite to your arm. You just smiled, biting your own lip. “Point proven.” 

He scoffed and placed his head on top of the arm he had bitten as he looked at you straight in the eyes, you almost lost your train of thought as you stared at him, always fascinated by the fact that someone so beautiful would be looking at you, with such a gaze. 

“So what’s with the cats then?” He asked, he was looking at you in a way that made your knees weak, and you were happy you were lying on a sofa rather than standing. 

“Well, it’s a smell thing,” you said as you broke eye contact, focusing on your hands on his hair to try and speak properly. “Peter said it’s something about getting the kitten to have the smell of the pack so the larger cat wouldn’t attack him.” Sirius nodded. “He then mentioned that… Moony had honed in my smell. That even on the first moon of the year he had been restless, and had been really hard to deal with.” 

“Yeah, he was a bitch,” Sirius said as he nodded “Kept wanting to go in the castle.” 

“Mhm,” you agreed. “So Peter suggested that we do the same.” 

Sirius arched his eyebrows at you as he passed his tongue over his lips, clearly amused at your suggestion. “Sweetheart, if what you wanted was to rub against me, you could have just said that,” he said with a small smirk and a suggestive look. 

You scoffed and swatted him on the head, “Sirius focus! He said I could rub onto you or James.” 

“No!” he said all too fast, a flash of jealousy in his eyes. 

You giggled, “Well… technically he said Padfoot and Prongs. He offered himself too but said he was too small.” 

“Ugh…Don’t put that image in my head!” He said with a frown. And then turned to you again “What about Remus? Wouldn’t it make more sense for you to rub on him?” 

You nodded, “Yeah, but it doesn’t seem very clever to go rub onto Moony when he could just reach down and close his jaws around me, does it?” 

Sirius frowned, “Not Moony, Remus.” 

“You think that would work? You don’t smell the same as Pads.” 

“Why, been smelling me much?” he teased. 

You rolled your eyes, “Padfoot smells a lot more like a dog.” 

“Are you suggesting I stink?” 

“Your words, not mine.” He pinched your side with his hand and you laughed. Of course, you didn’t think he smelled bad, in fact, Vixen seemed to be just as drawn to that smell as you were by Sirius’. 

“Anyway, Remus smells like Moony.” 

“Been smelling him much?” you teased now. 

He gave you a look, “I live with him you moron.” He omitted the fact that yes, he had, and that Remus had been clouding his thoughts for a while now. 

You sighed, “Well, I suppose we could turn into Vixen and Pads and cuddle him then. You think he’d be up for it?” 

He looked to the side as if thinking about it, “Well… If anyone can convince him, it’s us.”

You nodded in agreement. And then you remembered, “Talking about Remus…” 

“Mhm?” 

You sighed, “I’ve been invited to Slughorn’s Christmas Party.” 

“Congratulations?” he said a little confused, “What’s that got to do with Moons?” 

“He’s never been invited.” He hummed in response as if to get you to elaborate, you continued to brush your nails on his scalp, he could feel your nervousness in the way the patterns you made had gone a little faster. “I want him to go. He… seemed a little harsh when I suggested that he must have been invited many times because of how clever he is.” 

“He won’t like it, he’ll think it’s pity.” 

“No, but… I think he deserves it! More than me even!” 

Sirius shook his head “It’s not just about cleverness, I was invited in my first year, all of my cousins had been members of the Slug Club. Of course, I didn’t go.” 

You sighed, “Yeah, maybe my father being who he is has a lot more to do with my invitation than anything.” 

“That’s not… it’s not what I was trying to say…” 

You sighed again. “I know, Puppy.” You then turned to him, “Would you mind if I invited him?” 

“Instead of me?” He teased. 

“Of course if you don’t want to I would never, I just–” 

Sirius laughed, “I couldn’t care less about the Slug Club, in fact, Walburga might be pleased if I were to go, so I think it’s great if you take Remus instead.” He really tried not to think of how good the two of you would look all dolled up for the party together. 

“You think they know about us?” You asked with a frown. 

“I’d be surprised if they didn’t,” Sirius said and then shrugged, “If anything I bet they’re pissed you’re dating me and not Regulus.” 

You laughed at that, and then remembered the way Walburga had stared at you when she introduced their children, “Imagine if they knew I’m part-fairy.” 

“You what?” Sirius asked, pushing himself from you to look straight at your face. 

“You… I didn’t tell you?” 

“No!” 

“I thought I had,” you said with a guilty-looking smile “It’s from my mum’s side, my great grandma was a fairy, but they decided to keep it secret.” 

“That must be why you’re so pretty,” He said as he leaned back against you “And so good at flying, it’s kind of an unfair advantage when you think about it.” 

You smiled, you knew Sirius wouldn’t judge you for being part fairy, but there was something about the way in which he took it, like it was the most normal thing in the world –rather similar to the way Remus had– that made you want to plant a kiss on those pretty pinky lips of his. 

“How do we convince Remus of the cuddling?” You asked then, your mind going back to the other boy. 

Sirius smirked, “We don’t convince him. We surprise him,” he said as he stood up and extended his hand for you to take, a mischievous look on his face that made him look like the most alluring thing you had ever seen in your life. You almost gaped at him as you grabbed his hand and he pulled you off the bed and dragged you to the stairs of the boys’ dormitories. 

Remus Lupin hadn’t had the best of days. He had attempted to help the boys clean the pens but the animals kept drifting apart from him and trying to escape their little space because of his presence. Eventually, Professor Kettleburn had asked him to step out of them and help him sort out some of the food, dividing it into smaller bags for the younger students to be able to feed them later on. 

Remus was already used to not being able to be close to some creatures, they didn’t exactly like him much, probably because they could smell the wolf in him. Of course, it wasn’t like that all the time, in fact, the fireworms he was still co-parenting with you seemed to have gotten a liking to him, although he wasn’t sure if it was because they couldn’t quite think properly or if the real reason was because a fireworm could be easily as destructive as he was. 

Either way, Remus hated sorting the food, it was a boring, tedious task that he felt brought no new knowledge to him, but that wasn’t even the worst part. No, the worst part was that, because it was such a simple and mundane task it offered no mental challenge, which meant his brain was idle. And of course, since his brain was idle, he couldn’t stop thinking about things he’d rather not think about at all. Let alone in depth.

It had all started as he was serving the second bag, his brain had gone back to the previous class, he’d seen how worried you were. While you hadn’t told Remus and the boys, or anyone the exact details of what had happened that night, you had mentioned Barty apparating in front of the Shack. Remus knew the boy was talented, but he didn’t know that he was that talented. He had no idea how to apparate yet, although after doing it with Dumbledore he thought he could learn how to do it easily enough. 

He had also linked the smell from that night exactly to the way you smelled that day. He’d noticed he’d become a lot better at isolating your smell from the rest of people after the incident. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the lingering smell of bIood that always seemed to be carried alongside you after you had been wounded; because he had been so close to your animagus in the infirmary or because his obsession had just gotten that bad, but it was happening. Quite similar to the way he could easily isolate Sirius’ smell. But smell sometimes changed a little, he remembered easily being able to know when Sirius had snogged someone by the sheer smell he exuded afterwards, it always pissed him off and he had to play it out, especially after he realised it was because he too wanted to snog him. He could also tell when the rest of the boys had done similar things, but that had never bothered him. 

But the fact that Remus had been able to identify the exact smell from that night, meant you were probably reliving what had happened, which had, in turn, put him just as on edge as he had been then. The same worry filled his insides, the same need to protect. It had taken a monumental struggle not to instantly sprint your way when the smell first hit him, and it had been even harder to hold back from hugging you when he could see damn well you could use one. And Sirius was too busy boasting with James to notice, not that you weren’t a brilliant actress, heck you hid it almost as well as he hid his aches and pains after a moon. But there had been few people he couldn’t quite hide it from. Turns out there were also people you couldn’t hide it from: that being Remus. 

Remus attempted to focus on something else, and he looked up to try and find some kind of interesting animal, student drama or something, but instead, what he found was Sirius’ intense gaze. His eyes, which looked more blue than grey that day because of the sun that shone so brightly over them as they cleaned, were focused on Remus. Remus almost scowled, thinking Sirius was looking at him out of pity, but then he noticed that Sirius hadn’t quite realised Remus was looking at him yet. When they locked eyes, Sirius continued to shamelessly stare at Remus, looking to be rather deep in thought as he stared at his friend, as if he were trying to solve a riddle. 

While Sirius didn’t look particularly angry as he stared, Remus was slightly intimidated by him, was there any chance he had noticed the way he had been looking at you? The way he kept staring at him when he wasn’t looking? Sirius wasn’t particularly oblivious to the way people looked at him, to the way girls looked at him.  Was it possible that he was able to link those gazes to the ones Remus often threw his way? 

Regardless of how intimidating “the Black” stare could be, Remus held his stance, staring at Sirius with as much curiosity and moxy as he could muster. Sirius seemed amused by that, biting his lip in the most lascivious manner Remus had ever seen in his life and then sending a wink in Remus’ direction before focusing on cleaning again. 

Remus was glaring at Sirius’ back as the boy turned his head, how dare he wink at me like that? he thought as he mentally scoffed. Needless to say, Remus wasn’t able to get Sirius off his head after that, especially Sirius’ soft-looking lips. Fucking Sirius Black and his fucking pretty lips. He’s an arse who knows how pretty he is and uses it to his advantage. What a prat! Why must he be so fucking pretty?!? 

By the end of the class, Remus’ head was in pain from how many thoughts were going ‘round inside of it, he might as well be a merry-go-round with how much it was swiveling. He had a headache, he was full of dirt and animal food and he was still pissed at Sirius who had looked at him the way he did. 

James had gone chasing behind Lily with the excuse that he had to go check on her and Sirius had approached Remus right after. Peter was lost somewhere, but Remus couldn’t care less at that point. He was still pissed at Sirius, for absolutely no reason at all. 

“You alright?” Sirius asked with a frown, and fuck did he look adorable.

“I’ve got a bit of a headache,” Remus said sharply, “I think I’ll go to the library.” 

“You have a headache and will go to the library?” Sirius asked puzzled, “Doesn’t seem very clever, why don’t you come with? I’m going to try and find Kit, I’m surprised she didn’t come back to class after taking Lily to the dormitories.” 

Remus scoffed, and coughed a bit to cover it up when he realised you wouldn’t want Sirius to know you had been affected because of that night, “Wouldn’t want to third wheel on quality time with your girlfriend.” 

Sirius threw him a wary glance as if he had noticed something was wrong with his friend, “You’re never a third wheel Remus, we love having you around.” 

Remus bit the side of his cheek to hold himself from snapping at Sirius, he had no logical reason to do it, any normal person would be more than happy to spend time with his best friends all together, but Moony was a jealous beast and sometimes it sipped all the way into Remus, “I have to prepare my potions essay.” 

There was no potions essay, he had finished it a few nights ago when you had polyjuiced yourself into James to take his punishment for him, not that Sirius knew. 

“And you should cuddle her more,” Remus said almost bitterly. When Sirius gave him a quizzical look he tried to calm his nerves again. “I think It still hurts,” he said “I saw her clutching her arm earlier.” 

Sirius nodded and Remus stared at him as they parted ways, grumbling something about Sirius being unbelievable as he walked to the library. There he tried to find a quiet spot, but after finding none, because all students seemed to be more focused on gossip than on books, he decided to retire to the Prefects’ Bathroom, to try and relax. Unfortunately, when he went he walked in on none other than Alice Becket making out with a Ravenclaw boy from 7th. She seemed surprised when she saw Remus but he just shut the door. 

Remus didn’t care much about Alice snogging other boys, he had used her as much as she was using him, and he knew they weren’t exactly exclusive, but he had already been pretty riled up at the moment, and that was like the last nail in the coffin. Thankfully Alice didn’t follow behind him as he stormed through the hall towards his Common Room. He hoped to the heavens that he wouldn’t find you and Sirius snogging on the couch because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to maintain his sanity if he did.  

Thankfully, as he walked in, he realised it was mostly empty. There were a few first and second-year kids talking, and reading, while most of the older kids had probably gone to the Hogsmeade outing after class. He walked up to his room and opened the door warily as he looked around. He frowned as he took in the smell of the room. It looked empty, but there was a lingering scent of you and Sirius all over the place. The thought that you had both shagged there earlier made him even more uncomfortable as he let himself fall head first on the bed and groaned into his pillow. 

For some fucking reason that also had the smell of you and Sirius. Which, while initially pissed him off, the more he let the smell penetrate him, the more relaxed he started to feel. He was about to let his mind roam with thoughts that he normally didn’t allow himself to have, with all the stress of the day he figured he deserved a break. He took a deep breath and remembered how you and Sirius had sounded back when you were kissing the day you made the potions for the prank. Remus was just starting to get in the mood when he felt his bed dip on the side. He turned around horrified, just to find Padfoot jumping like a happy puppy. 

“What in the bIoody–” He started and then felt the bed dip on the other side. A small red fox had also jumped into his bed. She was wagging her tail as excitedly and happily as Padfoot “Vixen?” he asked, confused. He could have sworn he saw the fox smile. 

The fox and the dog threw a look at each other before the fox climbed on top of Remus’ chest. The dog leaned in closer and rested his head on the fox’s back. Remus looked horrified at the two of them, horrified because he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt more comfortable –perhaps when he was reading and you were all mushed together on his bed– and horrified because he had no idea what the hell the two of you were planning. 

He wasn’t even sure what to say, or if he should say anything, but it pissed him off not knowing what the hell the two of you were up to so he put on the angriest face he could muster “If you two pair of twats don’t get off me in the next five seconds, I will hex you!”

Padfoot stared at him and leaned his head on your back again, only tilting it to the side when Remus started to count down. Sirius had been stared at with that angry, threatening face hundreds of times throughout his life. He’d do something silly near the moon, and Remus would put on that same face and scowl at him, he’d get caught after a prank and Remus would give him the scowl, he’d snog a random girl and leave her and Remus would also get pissed, at this point, Sirius was almost immune to it. You, on the other hand, had only seen Remus angry at the Shack, and while it wasn’t exactly the same face he was making, it did make you recoil, even if it was just a little. 

“Three… Two…” he kept counting, Remus was staring directly at you, and you wriggled out of the sandwich Remus and Padfoot had you on until you fell on the bed. You rolled over your back until you were staring at Remus, weight on your front paws as if you were ready to jump and attack, but there was something playful about it, as if you were challenging Remus. Padfoot on the other hand had just laid his head on Remus’ chest again, looking as unbothered with Remus as Sirius often was. 

Remus attempted to push him off of him but Padfoot didn’t budge. Of course, Remus wasn’t using his full strength and Sirius knew that too, which gave him more confidence to stay right where he was. Besides, Remus was warm and comfortable and he smelled awfully nice that day. 

“Sirius, get off! BIoody hell why are you both attacking me like this?!?” Padfoot barked softly and you leaned closer again, but Remus gave you a warning glance “Either one of you explains to me what the fuck is going on or–” Padfoot leaned forward and licked Remus’ cheek, an action awfully reminiscent of the Halloween party. Remus pushed him off his face “That’s fucking gross!”

Regardless, the dog didn’t seem to care and licked Remus’ hands as he attempted to push him off.  You watched the entire scene diverted when the werewolf turned to you, a pleading look on his face. “Little Witch, please tell me what the fuck is going on.”

You felt genuinely tempted to ignore him and just lick his face like Sirius had done, but there was something about Remus’ pleading expression that made you want to do whatever he wanted. You turned back into yourself, not quite measuring your stance and ended up laying beside Remus, almost like that time you were reading “The Godfather” except this time around your head was leaning on his arm. But rather than stepping away, like Remus expected you to do, you just got yourself comfortable, which was a very Sirius thing to do. Padfoot had laid his paws on Remus’ torso and licked your face once too, which had you laughing merrily as you lay in Remus’ arms. 

Remus was rather tense, feeling like he might be third-wheeling but also awfully welcomed in between the two of you. “Little witch?” he asked again, an edge of panic in his voice as Padfoot continued trying to lick his face and yours. 

“Peter told us we had to cuddle you.” 

“What?!” Remus asked as he frowned, now more confused than he’d been before. 

Sirius transformed back into himself, he was sitting on the bed, leaning slightly onto Remus as his hands were pressed on the other boy’s abdomen like they had done when they were paws. “Well technically, he said Vixen had to cuddle Padfoot and Prongs.” 

“You’re not making anything clear,” Remus said as he motioned to stand but both you and Sirius held him down. You by placing your hands on his arm and Sirius by leaning onto him just a little more. 

“It’s because of the smell,” you explained. “He said Moony had honed on my smell and that he kept chasing after me since the first moon.”

Yeah, Moony isn’t the only one who honed onto your smell, Remus thought. 

“And he said if we rub our smell on her and she smells like the pack then Moony wouldn’t chase her anymore.” 

Remus looked at you horrified, “You wouldn’t be thinking of setting a foot out on the next full moon, would you?” 

“Well of course I will,” you said simply. “We can’t have Moony continue being all reckless chasing after me or whatever, he’s hurting himself, and you in the process.” 

“We can’t have him hurt you either,” Remus said sharply. 

“And that, my dear friend, is why we are going to cuddle you,” Sirius said with an air of finality. 

“I… I don’t know about–” 

“We have to try, Rem!” You said lifting yourself and turning to him, a little more serious now.  You sighed. “I don’t want you to keep hurting yourself because of me. And if what I need to do to fix it is cuddle the shit out of you and Padfoot then, I’ll take one for the team.” 

Sirius barked a laugh after that and shoved you lightly on the side “Oh shut up, Vixen loves cuddles!” 

“Not from dirty smelly dogs,” you teased. 

Sirius straight up gasped at that, looking rather amused. “Oh, you little minx!” He said as he turned into Padfoot again and jumped over you, licking your face mercilessly. He kept barking in between licks. And both you and Remus knew exactly what he was saying even if neither of you spoke dog. 

“Take that back, Take that back!” Padfoot said with each bark. 

After laughing so much your stomach started to hurt, you complied. “All right, alright! You’re not a dirty smelly dog, Pads!” 

The dog barked satisfied, cooing his head in a smug manner that would have allowed anybody to figure out that he was Sirius and not a normal dog. You had reached up and started rubbing the back of his ears, gently scratching. Remus, without thinking much about it, joined you, your fingers brushing against each other as you both petted Padfoot. 

“That’s right, he’s a good boy, isn’t he?” Remus teased. Sirius was about to protest, but the boy scratched the dog in a way he knew would shut him up; and rather than complain, he started wagging his tail behind him as he leaned onto Remus’ touch. 

“By Merlin! You have to teach me that!” You said with a surprised expression as you watched the way Padfoot leaned onto Remus, who had somewhat of a smug smile on his face. “You think it would shut Sirius up too?” The dog barked your way and was about to jump over you again when Remus scratched the same way again and he instantly melted back onto the other boy. You giggled at that. “You’re brilliant, Rem!”

Remus almost beamed at that, while the stress of the day wasn’t getting relieved the salacious way he thought it would, cuddling his two crushes, even if they would be in their animal form, might as well be a lot better. As long as he didn’t think much of it. Besides it had been your idea –technically Peter’s– which meant you actually wanted to cuddle him. 

And while earlier, at least at the Halloween Party he had shone away from your touch, after he felt the way Sirius’ hands and yours brushed over his body, it felt a lot less intimate to cuddle Padfoot and Vixen, even if it was just as nice, and even if you still hadn’t turned to Vixen. You were too entertained petting Padfoot and the dog seemed rather content, even as his girlfriend was cosied up against his best friend. Head on his shoulder and shoulder –the not wounded one– against his torso. 

He knew Sirius to be jealous, he had been jealous of Tom several times, but he seemed to be feeling nothing of the sorts as you cuddled up against Rem. And boy were you a lot closer to him than you’d ever been to Tom, which he was really trying not to think much about. 

Remus stared at the both of you, the dog and the girl, all comfortable, and all over him as he wondered if Sirius just didn’t consider him a rival at all. He had never seemed jealous of how close you and he were. How many projects and classes you had together, how much time you spent with each other. Remus, like he often did, started to overthink it. Was he that bad-looking that Sirius wouldn’t even consider the possibility of him stealing his girl? Was it that impossible to believe you could like him back? 

No, you had called him pretty several times, you had mentioned he was hot too, Sirius had mentioned the same thing. If he didn’t know any better he’d think it had been flirting. But neither of you would flirt, you were too bIoody in love with each other to ever even consider another person. But Sirius was definitely a jealous man. Jealous except when… it comes to me. 

You looked up at Rem when you realised he had stopped petting Pads, you only noticed because the dog kept bumping his head on the way to his hand as if asking to continue what he’d been doing, when you saw the frown on his pretty face, his brows knitting together as he was in deep thought, you spoke “What’s got your knickers in a twist? Is cuddling us that uncomfortable?” 

“What?!” Remus asked as you brought him back, trying not to look at your lips as you laid so close to him, “No, no! I was thinking of– hold up! Aren’t I supposed to be cuddling Padfoot and Vixen?”

“You are,” you said with a shrug.

“I’m cuddling Padfoot and my little witch,” he said amused. 

Not one person in the room questioned the way Remus had said “my” prior to Little Witch. In fact, not the dog, not the girl, not even the small portrait in the back –that was known to be rather outspoken– even questioned the wording of the sentence, as if you all knew, on a subconscious level, that it was true. 

You gasped, not realising you had completely forgotten to turn back, too entertained on petting the dog to think about it “You’re bIoody right!” you said as you leaned forwards brusquely,  Remus really tried not to feel bad about the cold breeze that instantly hit him after your bodies separated from each other. “Must have been really tired, I was about to fall asleep.” 

And you really had been, not that you knew why you were so sleepy. It seemed the cosiness both boys brought over soothed you to sleep. 

Padfoot barked your way, you didn’t have to be a dog expert to know he was making fun of you. He poked his head on Remus’ hand again, as if to prompt him to continue his ministrations, and you looked at him, a spark of jealousy lighting inside you, not because you didn’t like Remus petting your boyfriend, but because you wanted in on the petting too. In an instant, you turned to Vixen, shrinking to the middle of the bed and walking your way toward Remus’ chest, and pushing Padfoot’s head just slightly to the side, as if you owned the place. 

The dog nibbled your ear in protest but ended up letting you do whatever the hell you wanted, placing his head on top of your back once you looked like you had gotten yourself comfortable. He made sure to brush his snout all over your smaller body. Partly because he wanted to make sure he was rubbing you with the scent of the pack, but mostly because he wanted to see if he’d get a reaction out of you. You only leaned closer to Remus, closing your eyes as you got yourself even more comfortable. The boy, the only human left in the room, smiled and placed a hand over your small head. 

Padfoot looked like he was about to protest over the loss of contact, Remus without even opening his eyes mumbled “It’s Vixen the one that needs the smell of the pack, not you Pads.” 

The dog huffed in response, he too wanted to be pet by Remus, but he also knew Remus was right, so he just nuzzled his head closer to Vixen’s body as you nuzzled your own against Remus’ hand. Remus was enjoying the way the two of you warmed him more than almost anything he’d ever enjoyed in his life. Perhaps only rivalled with that one kiss he had given you and the one he had shared with Sirius years past. 

And while the nagging little voice in his head screamed at him to run, to leave before he knew what heartbreak really was after being able to be so close and yet not being able to have either of you, he decided to ignore it. 

Remus would wallow in the feeling of the two of you nuzzling against him, even if it was just this once. 

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

TAGLIST:  @rayrlupin @callmelovergirl @warcelia @ireneop @endversewinchester @moonyunebi @smuttysluttybitch @mazzymoons @drugs-for-memes @sofiacblair @vmpir3lvr @remuslupinisbae @rabluver @willgrahamisalesbi4n @thatobsessedreader @orkwardx0  @itskailey24 @hell0-kittie @belovedmoony @blacksgarden @loving-and-dreaming @cassie-love20 @starchaser-lily @zucchini-queenie @springflwer07 @sseleniaa @cometsghost @orkwardx0 @imdoingbetternow  @sbrewer21 @remuslupinsbae @maxinehufflepuffprincess @wifiatthetrainstation @unstablereader @msblacklupin @oliversaurus @jaylienpotter @remussbitch @hermionelove @izuoyarmin @themarauderswife7 @keira-kaz2y5 @lampthemacarenagod @bugg06 @a-n-1-m-3-f-r-3-4-k @darlingeels @kissmeunicornbaobei @xluansstuff @boo8008 @angelmixer @voteforintensedreams @allons-y-molly @aremuslupinsimp @imaginexred @writingshae @nyanwyn @poetrypirate @crazyhorseforgot @saturnhas82moons @ryeyeyer @itsthequackshire @maqqiekwon @desikudisworld

Leve a comment telling me if you wanna be tagged on Gilded Constellations

Want to support me? Like and reblog this post (reblogs are extra nice since they help me get my work to more people), also guys, I absolutely love reading your comments, so do throw them my way if you have any!

A/N: Well, well, well, but look who's all about the cuddling? Also GUYS! Upon some requests, we have a DISCORD server now and you can all join in and chat about marauders and/or GC with other lovely people. If you wanna discuss a new oneshot or even the new chapters of GC this is your place to go. The announcement for it is here and I'll leave links to it on a reblog of this post ad in the comments.

Read more Marauders Fiction

[thatbitchery]

Whoever recommended Queen Of The South when I asked for level up films you are so pretty. Your nails are on point your hair is glossy your skin is glowing your bank is banking and you have never ever ever everrrr been wrong. May you collect money on your way home and bag a million and a hot dude that worships the ground you walk on, particle by particle.

When I say Stoicism, this is exactly what I mean. This girl is how you do social climbing. This is how you take what you are given and do something with it. This is power games, people. This is Thatbitchism, at its finest. Teresa the woman that you are 🛐🧎‍♀️10/10 no notes.