#he is paying her the price she set

[respectthepetty]

Me, a college professor who had to deal with several cases of students turning in work that was not theirs all semester, actively watching Yak pay someone else to do his work so he can get a degree.

He is my babygirl, and he can do no wrong.

[alongtidesoflight]

i swear my stepdad is so illogical AND stubborn it hurts

[salsa-ishida]

you're back!! it's been so long!! I missed you <3 <3

ahhhh I missed you too!! Life has been insistent on grinding me to a paste but we perservere

[lyn-ne]

30 & 28 for akikoha (on your pin)

WAAH THANK YOU ANON <3

here is the original post

I’ve already answered 30 here!

28. How are they with money? Does one do more of the financial supporting?

This one took me a minute cause I wasn’t sure (due to them both being teenagers and neither of them currently have a job in canon, and we also don’t know if they get paid from live houses)

so for the sake of my head not hurting, gonna answer this with my college au!

kohane is pretty decent with money; she’s a freelancer photographer, and also works at a coffee shop with shiho for extra money. She gets enough to pay her share of the rent of the flat her, Minori, Emu, and Honami all live in. And she usually has enough for extra things like food, clothes, etc.

akito both works at weekend garage and a clothing store in a mall (I like to think it’s the same one he used to work in during his 1st year of high school). Ken definitely pays his employers well, especially cause he knows them (akito and an). And the clothing store is if he wants to earn extra money to buy other things he needs/wants

I don’t think either does more financial supporting, cause they would earn a somewhat equal amount? (Look I’m not a freelancer so I’m not entirely sure how much Kohane would charge)

but thank you anon for asking! It means a lot <3

[coffee-and-geto]

LET ME WARM YOU UP

summary: satoru comes home after an early morning when he went to the bakery to buy you some pastries, frozen to the bone by the biting early december cold. doesn’t he deserve to find you under the warm comforter where your warm presence hides?

cw: fluff, domestic, gojo has his nose pink from the cold, he’s silly, needy and so in love <3, i have put some pastries i know bc i’m french but ignore them if you don’t like croissant (what’s on ur mind) or pain au chocolat (i agree on this).

wc: 721

When Satoru enters the bakery — his body draped in a long coat, head wrapped in a knit cap, and half his face hidden behind a large scarf — the gentle chime of the entrance bell feels like a sweet melody mingling with the warm, sugary scent of the quiet, early-morning haven.

Behind the sparkling glass displays are heaps of pastries that make his mouth water. From chocolate croissants to apple turnovers, the variety of treats teases his senses as he approaches the kind, tiny baker, who barely reaches his chest.

“Good morning, young man,” she coos like a grandmother, tilting her head up to look at him. “Feeling like something sweet this early?”

Six o’clock in the morning — was it too early?

Satoru would camp outside the bakery if it meant sharing pastries with you.

He hums thoughtfully. “I’d like a brioche, a chocolate croissant, a croissant, an éclair, and a strawberry tart,” he says, distracted by the vibrant colors tempting him to buy out the entire bakery.

The baker grabs a bag and carefully places his order inside, smiling warmly.

“Will that be all, young man?”

Satoru nods.

“Alright.” She names the total price and hands him the large bag once he pays. “Are you planning to eat all of this yourself, young man?”

A smile capable of melting ice stretches across Satoru’s face, despite being hidden behind his scarf. “I’ll share it with my girlfriend.”

��Oh, that’s so sweet of you.” After he pays, the baker hands him a blue lollipop, the kind that colors your tongue. “A boy like you, who takes such good care of his loved ones, deserves this.”

Satoru accepts it with a word of thanks before heading home, where you’re unknowingly waiting for him, still tucked beneath the warm covers of your bed.

He enters the apartment silently, closing the door with care and removing his shoes and coat in near-perfect quiet. In the kitchen, he wastes no time arranging a breakfast tray, loading it with the pastries he bought and a cup of tea and coffee.

He performs the task with an adorably proud smile, humming cheerfully at the thought of sharing a warm breakfast with you under the blanket, where you’d thaw his December-chilled body.

With the tray prepared to perfection, he carries it to the bedside table and sets it down gently before slipping into the bed. The combination of the soft blanket and your warmth, still lingering in the sheets, begins to ease the cold from his body. His stiff, frozen arms wrap around you, rousing you from sleep.

“Toru?” you whisper, your eyes fluttering open as a yawn escapes your lips.

“Morning, sweetheart,” Satoru murmurs into the crook of your warm neck.

You shiver at how cold he feels. “Did you go out?” You turn to wrap your arms around him, planting a kiss on his nose, pink from the cold.

“Brought pastries,” he hums. “Wanna eat with me?” He blinks at you cutely, his snow-dusted lashes framing eyes as deep and blue as the ocean.

“You did?” The corners of your mouth turn down as you pull him closer. Satoru’s habit of buying things for you without needing to be asked makes your heart ache in the sweetest way. “Of course, my love.” You pepper kisses all over his face. “Love you so much.”

He grins so cutely you want to crush his head in your arms.

Minutes later, you’re both sitting up in bed, the makeshift tray perched on your shared lap as you indulge in a perfect breakfast.

Through the bedroom window, the first snowflakes of December fall onto the balcony, covering it in a white blanket that matches your lover’s hair. The sky, equally white, might’ve seemed dull and cold, but sitting beside Satoru, who is devouring almost all the pastries, brightens the weather.

Once your stomachs are full, Satoru burrows under the blanket, pressing his face against your pajama-clad stomach. A giggle escapes you, your chest shaking gently with the sound.

“What are you doing?” you ask, raising a playful eyebrow.

“Cuddling,” he mumbles, his voice muffled by the comforter.

“You look more like a whiny cat, you know.”

“If a whiny cat gets cuddles, then I am one.”

Your laughter bubbles over, warming Satoru, who nearly purrs as your fingers scratch at his scalp.

a/n: hello guys :)) i know it’s been like two weeks w/ anything but let’s forget that, hmm? so 1st december is the birthday of my bsf haha and sadly the end of fall for me... (i’m depressed bc of this). but, i’m in the mood to write everything fluffy, etc. (saying this while my brain is mentally preparing a big angsty fic for the coming weeks bwahahaha). hope you guys have a nice week and see you soon <33

likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3

tags: @ssetsuka @zara-zara11 @bearwithmoo @elliesndg @lymsfm @mutsu422

@drippymcdrippison @koshhin @v31v3t @wawuwe @cybersomniq @sanemistar

@monokaix

[beloveds-embrace]

dukedom!AU but they realize she’s quickly become a type of ‘peoples princess’ outside the duchy

The timeline for this one is before reader tells john her request! I got this ask before part two dropped and already had some of it written. Hope you enjoy, anon! <3

Dukedome au masterlist

I can imagine them realizing it not from seeing it, but from hearing it, maybe during a gala hosted by John and uou. The evening is alive with music and laughter, the grand ballroom brimming with nobles and dignitaries. Yet the chatter revolve around one figure: you.

“She’s truly remarkable, isn’t she?” one elderly countess says, her voice carrying across the marble floors and gleaming ceilings. “Always so graceful, so kind. I am quite glad she is Duchess Price, now.”

John stands near the refreshments table with Simon, and overhears the conversation. His hand tightens slightly around his glass, though his face betrays nothing. Nothing new to be talked about, it was natural. And yet-

“Graceful?” a younger lady chimes in, voice calm and polite. “She’s more than that. Did you hear she personally visited the orphanage last week? Brought food and clothing, spoke to every child. And not for show- she refused to let any journalists near. That’s a true duchess.”

Simon’s brows furrows slightly, his jaw tightening. He exchanges a glance with John, the unspoken thought between them clear: she hadn’t told either of them about that visit. It wasn’t because John didn’t trust you, or that you need his permission; he just wanted to be aware of where you go and which guards you’ll take. For your own safety.

“She’s so approachable too,” a lord adds, gesturing with his wine glass. John knows this lord, he always ends up drinking too much and being too handsy. Why would you need to speak to him? “I spoke to her briefly earlier- she didn’t just listen, she cared. You can see it in her eyes. It’s no wonder the people adore her.”

Adore is putting it way too lightly.

From the other side of the room, Kyle watches as a small group of maids gossip near the staircase. He wasn’t one for eavesdropping, but their excitement is hard to ignore.

“I heard she gave her own jewelry to the head maid’s daughter to help her pay for her dowry.” One of them whispers, clutching her tray.

“That’s not all,” another group are speaking, talking about her as well. “The market vendors say she always pays more than is needed, even when they insist she doesn’t do. Such a lovely woman.”

“Wish the other nobles were like her,” the first maid says with a wistful sigh. “She’s the only one who treats us like people.”

Kyle’s lips press into a thin line as he adjusts his gloves. He prides himself on protecting you, but hearing how far your kindness extends fills him with a quiet sense of urgency. What if someone takes advantage of you and your tender heart?

It’s not just in the main hall that these words are said; down in the kitchens, Johnny is busy ensuring there’s enough food with the rest of the chefs. But still, he can hear two others talking while they work, trying not to sound too snappy or angry while he listens in on them.

As the night continues, the men find themselves more and more aware of how often your name arises in conversation. They hear nobles discussing your fashion choices (Simon secretly preens), others whispering about your visits to the poorer parts of town and the funds that have been allocated into revitalizing the areas, and even rival duchesses grudgingly admitting that you’ve set quite the high standard.

“I heard she stopped Lord Clinton from evicting his tenants,” one man says near the dance floor, though not quite close enough to be drawn into the dancing bodies. He is within John and Simon’s earshots.

“Not only that,” someone else “whispers”. “She made sure they had food and shelter through the winter. commoners love her, and she truly embodies what it means to be a noble. A true people’s princess, I say.”

John’s gaze flickers toward you, standing across the room and laughing softly with a group of nobles. You’re glowing tonight, the light catching in your hair and your smile as warm as ever, adorned in a beautiful dress.

“They don’t deserve her,” Kyle mutters, sidling up to him while holding a plate of finger foods.

John doesn’t respond, but his grip on his glass tightens again. It’s a wonder the glass hasn’t broken et.

Simon’s voice is quiet when he speaks. “The people see her as theirs.” He pauses, his gaze hardening. “But she’s ours first.”

“I cannot blame them.” John sighs. “She is the perfect duchess. But she is also my duchess, and they seem to have forgotten that.”

John means his words, and he knows his men agree with him. The world may love you, but they know the truth: no one else can have you- not the people, not the nobles, no one but them.

The ballroom continues to buzz with conversation, and John focuses back on the two men near the edge of the dance floor.

“She’s wasted on a duchy,” one of them says, swirling his wine with a smirk, more than just a little drunk. “With her charm, she could outshine the Queen herself.”

“Not just charm,” the other adds in, just as drunk. “But Influence.”

Simon stiffens, his fingers flexing at his sides. “Influence” isn’t something he takes lightly when it comes to you. It’s a dangerous thing in the wrong hands- or with the wrong admirers.

“Careful,” John mutters to him. “They’re complimenting her, not threatening her.”

Simon’s glare softens ever so slightly. “Yet.”

Johnny slowly makes his way towards a hidden corner of the ballroom, gnawing on his lips as he listens to the whispers of you.

Did you see the way she stopped to speak with the gardeners?” one of them asks. “She even complimented the hedges I trimmed last week!”

Johnny’s grin fades, his fingers drumming against his thigh. He enjoys seeing people appreciate you, but this feels different. They speak of you with reverence, as if you’re some untouchable figure. But Johnny knows better. You’re no untouchable goddess- you’re his. Theirs. That’s what matters most.

It’s when you step onto the dance floor that the tension truly rises. A duke- one who’s been eyeing you all evening- approaches you with a bow, extending his hand for a dance. You hesitate, glancing toward John out of instinct. He doesn’t move, but his eyes darken, his jaw clenched as he watches you take the duke’s hand.

The music swells and you move across the floor, laughter bubbles from your lips at something your dance partner says. The men see it for what it is: polite, nothing more. But it doesn’t stop the knot of irritation tightening even further.

“She’s a vision,” someone murmurs nearby, unaware they’re being overheard.

“Who wouldn’t fall for her?” another replies.

The words hang in the air, heavy with implication.

Kyle’s gaze sharpens. Johnny’s grin vanishes completely. Simon’s fists clench at his sides. And John, ever composed, finishes his wine in one long swallow, his eyes never leaving you.

He can’t allow this to go on for any longer.

The dance ends, and as you return to the edge of the ballroom, you’re immediately surrounded by more admirers- ladies complimenting your gown, lords vying for your attention. Or would have been, if John hadn’t started making his way towards you, presence larger than life.

“Your Grace,” he says smoothly, and extends his hand to you, his expression unreadable. “Dance with me.”

The request- or rather, the command- is met with stunned silence. The nobles exchange glances, but a single glance from John keeps them all silent.

You blink up at him, momentarily caught off guard, before placing your hand in his. “Of course.” you murmur softly.

John’s grip is firm but gentle as he leads you to the dance floor, his other hand resting lightly at your waist. The orchestra begins a soft waltz, and he pulls you into the first step, his movements confident and assured.

Around you, the crowd watches, whispers starting anew, though you barely notice. All you can focus on is the intensity in John’s eyes as he looks down at you.

“You’ve been busy tonight.” he says after a moment, his voice low enough that only you can hear. It sends a shiver up your spine- his voice always so nice to hear.

“It’s my role,” you reply, offering him a small smile. “Everyone has been so kind.”

He hums, his eyes flicking briefly to the onlookers before returning to you. “Too kind, perhaps.”

You raise an eyebrow at his tone but say nothing, letting him guide you across the floor. His hand tightens slightly at your waist, and he pulls you even more closer.

“You’ve done well tonight,” he says after a moment, his voice softer now. “Better than I expected, if I’m honest. But I shouldn’t have been surprised. You always seem to surprise me, my dear.”

Your cheeks warm at the unexpected praise, and you smile up at him. “Thank you, John. That means a great deal.”

He leans in just slightly, his breath ghosting over your ear. “The way they look at you,” he murmurs, his voice dropping even lower. “They can’t take their eyes off you. And I don’t blame them.”

You glance up at him, startled, but his expression is unreadable once again. He continues to lead you effortlessly through the dance, his movements precise.

“But,” he continues, his gaze locking onto yours, “they’ll have to remember who you belong to.”

Your heart skips at his words, and for a moment, you forget where you are, the world narrowing to just the two of you. His eyes soften, his grip steady as he twirls you into the final steps of the dance.

As the music fades, he leans in again, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re exquisite tonight, wife. Don’t let them forget it.”

With that, he leads you off the dance floor, his hand never leaving yours. The crowd parts for the both of you, their gazes following you both as John guides you back to the edge of the room, where the others wait.

You’re still breathless, his words replaying in your mind as he steps aside, positioning himself at your shoulder. Whatever protests the nobles might’ve had about your absence dissolve under his watchful glare.

And though John doesn’t say another word for the rest of the evening, his presence alone is enough to ensure no one dares to crowd you again, and no one comes between you and them. Simon and Kyle keep you busy, chatting happily with them, and Johnny joins later when the guests begin to trickle out and no one would question why a chef is there.

People’s princess you maybe, you are still theirs. John simply had to show and remind everyone of that fact.

[postmortemnivis]

no grave can hold my body down, i'll crawl home to her.

simon really meant it, every bit of it, he’d come back to you somehow. he would find his way back to you. wether it was walking through the front door quietly not to wake you up in the middle of the night or cold in a coffin. he’d rather have you hold his dead body than not to have you touch his skin ever again.

that’s what simon was thinking about as his ear ringed so loud he couldn’t focus on his surroundings. he looked up at the sky, so blue it almost didn’t feel right. why so blue when so much blood was being shed?

he occasionally would feel the ground he was laying on tremble, maybe a hand grenade, maybe a body falling next to his. the smell of gunpowder filled his covered nostrils and he could feel his lungs collapsing on themselves from the thickness of the air he was breathing. his eyes weren’t doing good either, filled with dust and sand from the dry earth.

it took him a few more seconds to focus his eyes on something, something that possibly wasn’t moving, his head spinning each time he tried to sit up. something was weighting on his legs, holding him down. he struggled to raise his torso and groaned at the sight of a large body blocking him. he let himself fall back down.

he was ready to go, a sharp pain to his side telling him he wouldn’t last long alone. he’d been through worse, way worse, the scar provided by the meat hook was proof of that, but something was telling him this was as bad. he was ready to go.

the only thing he could think about in his last moments was you. he thought he could see glimpses of you, maybe your hair in the corner of his eyes or he’d hear your laugh as another fire shooting started. his eyes searched for you frantically. he wanted to tell you to leave immediately, scream it at the top of his lungs, but his voice was caught in his throat and you weren’t really there. his mind just playing cruel tricks on him.

your name was repeated like a mantra in his head, repeating it so many times it almost lost a meaning. almost. a prayer, a chant. he sure needed to pray, for you.

he had been shelving the thought that tormented him for months. he wanted to go and confess his sins, he almost felt the need, his palms itching with haste anytime he thought about it. years had passed since the last time he had set foot in a church, so many that he had almost forgotten the reason for the visit. the ghosts of the past never abandon you, especially if they are people you love, especially if they are family, the innocent. its always the innocent who pay the highest price.

‘i wonder what she’s doing now, who’s gonna knock on her door and tell her im gone.’ he thought. ‘hopefully price. he’s the one with tact and the most considerate. he’ll help her when i’m gone, keep an eye on her.’

the sweet smell of your hair replaced for a moment the one of blood and gunpowder, your laughter still echoing in his ears. he pictured your sweet face and big innocent eyes looking up at him.

“promise me something?”

“mhm?” he hummed, surprised you were still up. his hand hadn’t stopped caressing your hair since you laid down on his chest, your hand resting on his collarbone as your ear listened to his calm heartbeat. “yeah, anything.”

“promise me you’ll always come back.” you whispered in the dark room. “promise me, simon.”

he nodded, taken aback by your request. you weren’t the fondest of his job, he knew it, he hated to concern you like he did.

“yes.”

“promise.” you urged. “please.”

he bent his head down and kissed the top of yours, his arm sliding down your back and drawing you closer by your waist. “i will, love. i’ll always come back to you.”

you sighed, the knot of thoughts in your worried head began to untie. “mh.”

“better now?” he softly asked. his voice was hoarse from his constant shouting orders at the obstreperous recruits. you gave a short nod. “i mean it.”

he groaned as he managed to get the body off of himself, struggling to get on his knees.

fucks sake, he couldn’t let you live with him gone like this. it was selfish of him to leave you in such an abrupt way, really. he tried to push away the image of you opening the door to find price with a carton box filled with simons stuff from the barracks with the balaclava and skull mask on top and your knees hitting the floor before he could even say anything.

his legs didn’t feel like they could hold his weight up, he immediately fell to his knees as he heard another rapid fire too near him for his liking. his gun was long gone, he had to manage to survive alone, again.

“crawlin’ it is.” he breathed as he started to drag his tired body with the strength of his arms alone. you had always praised his strength: he could lift you with one arm alone, you loved to be held and hold on to his arm anywhere and at anytime. that was the main reason he always pushed for more while training, and the motivation your sweet compliments always gave him now were gonna save his life. he made a mental note to kiss and hold you a little longer and tighter if he ever made it home alive.

he could see the building his team was supposed to meet up in case things got bad. it looked so far away that it was alarmingly close. maybe it was just his messed up vision, a mirage, but he could swear he saw you from a window looking at him, urgently motioning him to come.

he brought the thick balaclava above his nose so he could breathe better and as enemy gunfire continued to flow, he kept his head low as he moved dead bodies from his way.

he could hear your voice calling for him and he wanted to call you for you back, but the noises of the battlefield were hurrying him to get to the safe zone first.

he stumbled by the door as he brought himself up, one hand stabilizing him as he held on to the doorframe as the other went to press on his wound.

“lt!” johnnys voice called before he rushed to help him. “ye cheeky bastard, i told them not to leave yet, to wait for ye.”

“gaz saw you get shot.” price swung simon’s arm over his shoulder in order to help him to the nearest table, where he laid down.

“he saw that right.” simon bit the inside of his cheek as price inspected his wound, pressing on it. “is he a‘ight?”

“he’s fine, hit his head but had his helmet on, he’s getting checked out by the medics.” price informed him as simon winced at the sharp pain. “there’s at least two bullets in here, didn’t pass through, stuck.”

“just take ‘em the fuck out.” simon groaned. “how’s it lookin’?”

“you’ll live.” price patted his shoulder in comfort before he went to call a medic.

“we really thought we’d lost ye there, lt.” johnny’s face was glowing with sweat and blood, the black war paint smudged messily all around his face and his mohawk dusted.

“helicopter’s leaving in thirty, boys!” price’s baritone voice called from the other room.

simon scoffed, sighing and closing his eyes, finally letting himself relax as your figure started to fade from the corner of the room where it’d been standing, silently looking at him. “won’t lose me, can’t wait to go home, johnny.”

[ssahotchnerr]

okay so, I really don't like angst so I'll go with jealous!Hotch 🤭

Something like when Reader is at Jack's soccer game and Idk, a dad flirts with her? But when Jack sees that she's talking with someone who isn't Hotch, he calls her "mom" in front of the dad who's flirting with her, (bc he's jealous too 🤭) but Hotch hears him and he's kind of moved, but someone is flirting with his girl so he gets all jealous and starts like kissing her or something in front of the man? And the night they end up at his home, with Hotch showing her that she belongs to him 🤭

(feel free to change anything, don't worry, also, sorry for my bad english, it's not my first language 😭)

keeping score

🤭 minors dni cw; fem!reader, jack calls reader mom, unwanted advances, suggestiveness, allusions to sex, small praise, dominant!jealous!possessive aaron 🦋 wc; 1.5k

early saturday mornings - grass still slightly wet from the dew, the sun slowly rising higher into the sky (threatening a hot day), sat alongside a soccer field - you couldn't imagine another place you'd rather be.

as aaron was the coach, you spent majority of jack's game sitting alone. it was a small price to pay; you were more than happy to cheer on jack from the sidelines, and to check aaron out as much as you wanted.

but most importantly, attending his games made you feel like you were a part of the family. the hotchners were closed off and let very few people in, and so your attendance here only solidified your role in both their lives. that aaron planned on keeping you around, and that jack trusted you. your role in his life wasn't to someday replace his mom, but rather you were just another person who simply loved him. you loved him like he was your own, and he knew it.

"mornin'," a voice pulled you from your thoughts; a familiar face amongst the other parents on the team, but you didn't know him by name.

you offered a quick, friendly smile, "good morning."

he set up camp near you, setting his foldable chair down and getting settled a few feet away. you paid him no mind, resuming your attention to something more worthy of your focus, such as how attractive aaron looked in the jeans he was wearing. and the game, obviously.

however, you could feel him peering at you from time to time, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

ten minutes or so passed before he spoke again, "so, big soccer fan?"

your eyes followed jack, who was dribbling the soccer ball down the field. your heart swelled with pride as he successfully kicked it to a teammate, "not until recently."

"me too." he offered you a look that he probably thought was slick, while you kept your gaze straight forward. "i'm always looking to score, if you know what i mean."

his words instantly caused your cheeks to burn, along with your whole body. it was clear he was objectifying you, with no good intentions in mind.

you didn't bother replying. hopefully, that would be a clear indicator for him to leave, or to leave you alone.

but he still chose to linger. and while he wasn't speaking, in your peripheral you kept noticing his head turn, gazing in your direction. his eyes were nearly burning a hole into you.

"shit." he swore as he suddenly stood up, picking up and moving his chair even closer to yours, "the grass is eating away at my chair. must've been that damn rain last night."

it hadn't rained last night.

the unsettling feeling he was causing you only grew, but again you didn't dare to say anything. the uncomfortableness only eased when the whistle finally blew, signaling halftime. this meant a water break and a small snack for the kids, and it meant aaron and jack would soon be joining you for a moment.

as expected, jack hurried towards you as soon as one of the other moms distributed him his snack, but paused abruptly as he reached you, his eyes scanning between you and the man. a confused expression filled his face, his bottom lip sticking out into a pout. it was the same one he produced whenever aaron gave him the fifteen minute warning for bedtime.

"mom," jack inserted himself in between the two of you, a small package of fruit snacks in hand, "can you open these for me?"

you froze for a spilt second, touched and surprised. you've been a constant in both aaron and jack's lives for almost a year now. but that title, was a first.

"of course sweet pea," you coughed a bit to clear your throat, and to stop the tears from surfacing, opening it for him.

"you did good out there kiddo," the dad spoke again, flashing a smile.

your fists clenched at that one - you knew he was trying to impress you, and you hated how he had decided to use interacting with jack to his advantage.

just wait until you find how he's the coach's son.

while you were furious, jack ever so slightly rolled his eyes, such an annoyed expression almost humorous for a child his age, choosing to focus on his snack and leaning comfortably against your shoulder.

and a minute or two later, aaron joined.

as aaron approached, his face nearly pulled into the same expression as his son's as he analyzed the visual in front of him. only his was accompanied with a more hardened, possessive aggressiveness.

"hi sweetheart," aaron greeted you, leaning in to kiss you once you were on your feet. it wasn't a chaste peck either, but rather more showy. his fingers grasped onto the waistline of your pants, pulling you flush to him. "enjoying the game?"

you nodded, still recovering from the unexpected heated kiss, looking down at jack who also was glued to your side, offering protection of his very own. you gave him a smile, ruffling his hair gently, "i think we've got a soccer star on our hands."

"speaking of," aaron started, straightening his torso and squaring his shoulders, making him appear taller. "jack, why don't you join the others. they're taking turns aiming at the goal before the game resumes."

with a nod, and after handing you the empty wrapper, jack ran off to his teammates. aaron was still holding his menacing glare, but dropped the entire expression suddenly.

"how are you feeling?"

"feeling...?" your eyebrows quirked in confusion.

"you're not too sore today, aren't you?" his eyes darted behind you, a rather confident, fiery glint within them. "i wasn't holding back last night, was i?"

oh.

"and now that i'm thinking about it, i don't think you've ever been that loud either."

aaron had always been a stickler for pda; any displays were kept to quick kisses, hand holding, and any suggestive comments were kept to a murmur, meant for you and you only. even when you tagged along with him to bau outings, such as a bar on a saturday night, he held back. anything more was private, and aaron preferred it that way - him being the only one to witness you in such a vulnerable state, was something he took gratification in, and only added to his overall pleasure.

so this, was something else. he wasn't speaking loud enough for all to hear, just enough for the man in question. your back was towards him, so you had no idea how he was reacting to aaron's words.

"i'm fine." you managed, your body also reacting immediately.

aaron's lips found home behind your ear, again conscience of his volume - just loud enough. "good, because i'm not done with you yet."

aaron's hand slid up to the small of your back, but not without stopping on the curve of your ass first - again he wasn't subtle about it, making sure it was noticeable.

and it had to be working, for the man hadn't uttered a single word.

"and actually, sweetheart." another glare pointed behind you. "would you mind helping me at the bench for the rest of the game? i could use an extra set of hands."

"of course." you blurted out, complying without a second thought.

"good girl," he was heavy on the emphasis, patting your hip affectionately. "c'mon."

you were visually flustered as you leaned down to gather your belongings, especially when aaron's hand rested on the small of your back as you did so. your eyes lifted to the man, who was avoiding all eye contact, staring off into the field with a flushed face.

once you straightened up aaron took your hand, leading you away.

"thank you." you mumbled as your hand slid up his arm, giving his bicep a squeeze.

aaron's jaw clenched. "i fucking hated the way he was looking at you."

"you wouldn't like what he was saying either." you mumbled, causing aaron's nostrils to flare in anger. but to calm him, you changed the subject, heat filling your cheeks again, "and you."

a pleased, closed lip smile graced his face. "what about me?"

"what was all that?" you teased, stomach fluttering. you already knew the answer, but it was something you wanted to hear from him again. "i've never heard you, so..."

he chuckled softly, an almost embarrassing undertone to his words. "vocal?"

"yeah." you blurted out, blinking. "it was hot."

aaron shrugged, satisfied but still agitated. "he was devouring you, practically undressing you with his eyes."

"well, i don't think he'll be trying anything again."

"i know he won't," aaron's eyes darkened as his overly confident demeanor resurfaced, his lips pulling into a smirk as one of his fingers tapped your neck, "especially when he sees you next week. because you won't be covering up those marks."

[enhalouv]

hyung line - when you want his attention while he's on the phone

a/n: another lil easing in w some pov !! hope u enjoy hehe

pairing: enha hyung line x fem!reader

warning: SMUT!, corporate!enha hyung line, derogative language (c!nt), oral, unprotected sex, voyeur, public-ish sex, a mention of a foot, cursing, lil dub-con

w.c: 1,541

Heeseung

“Well, I’ll be in the office quite late, so there shouldn’t be a problem with finishing it.”

Heeseung’s playing with the papers on his desk, a contract awaiting his signature. He knows it’s important, but it’s 3 hours past work hours and he’s finding it difficult to concentrate on the vital information dump. 

Nonetheless, he tries his best. Soon enough, he finds himself absorbed in hearing what his colleague says regarding a business deal they’re both working on. 

He’s so distracted, he almost misses you walking in. 

Almost. 

It’s hard to miss you when you’re in the lingerie set he brought you back from his business meeting in London. You look beautiful. Heeseung leans back on his chair, hand gripping the armrest as he shifts his legs forward to relieve the pressure of his growing erection. 

The set was something he noticed in the shop window of a high-end sex store. Heeseung imagined your beautiful body gripped tight by the material of the lingerie. He hadn’t even hesitated to buy it, disregarding the quadruple-digit price tag entirely. The lingerie was barely concealing anything. Mesh and lace exactly hugging your skin the way Heeseung knew it would. God, he’s drooling. 

“Well, the client needs to confirm the fee estimate before we can get started. But he’s barely responding…”

The voice of his colleague flows in one ear and out the other, his attention solely on the way you stroll into his room. His breath hitches when you drop onto your knees in front of him. 

“Pay attention to your call, Hee. It must be important.” You’re being cheeky. Lips pulled into an innocent smile like you’re not working to unbuckle his belt. 

Heeseung’s straining through his slacks, his grip on the armrest of his chair tightening as you palm his cock. 

“Heeseung?”

His attention gets drawn back by the call of his name. “Yes?”

“Were you listening?”

“Sorry,” Heeseung chuckles, a hand going to grip the back of your head as you mouth at his cock through his underwear. “Just got a bit distracted there, what did you say?”

“I was saying…”

The call drifts out of his mind, his phone dangling precariously in his fingers. His business partner continues to update him on something- Heeseung doesn’t care. All he cares about is the warmth your wet mouth provides as you suck his cock down your throat. 

Jongseong

You’d been acting up. Whined and tugged at Jay to give you attention while he answered an important work call. 

You were being a brat. 

Jay wasn’t so nice when you acted out. So, now you’re on all fours, being pounded by your boyfriend from behind. A hand firmly covering your mouth to prevent any noise from coming out, less the person on the other end hearing how Jay makes your head spin. 

He’s relentless with his thrusts, a hand pushes your back into a deeper curve, and the other holds a phone to his ear. He’s responding with a steady voice, one that doesn’t give away the way he’s got you unravelling on his cock. 

“Actually,” Jay cuts the other person off, slowing down his thrusts and pushing in deeper. “Can you relay that to my assistant, she’ll be much better at ensuring this job gets completed.” 

You’re barely paying attention, the new pace making you drool from how deep your boyfriend is going. 

“She’s here right now, let me pass you to her.”

Without hesitation, Jay leans forward pushing deeper into you and puts his phone against your ear. You begin to panic as Jay shows no signs of stopping. What the actual fuck is he thinking?

“Hello?”

Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!

“Go on, love,” Jay’s voice is low as he speaks to you, careful to not let it get caught by the phone’s microphone. “Answer him.”

You grip the phone hard against your ear, trying to breathe deeply to steady your voice before responding, “Yes, h-hello, I’m Jay’s assistant. Please c-continue.”

The voice on the other end filters in and Jay’s being kinder and slowing down his thrusts, hips resting against your ass as he pushes shallowly into you. You’re thankful that he wasn’t being heartless, and you try your hardest to listen to what’s being said. 

But before long, your hand slaps against your mouth as Jay pushes your back as deep as it curves and grips your hips and thrusts in so deep, you see stars. Jay begins a brutal pace, uncaring of how hard you’re trying to be quiet. 

You’re absolutely fucked. 

Jaeyun

He should be listening to his colleague on the other end of the call. This was an important business deal that would cost his company thousands if he fucks it up. 

But you’re right in front of him with two fingers deep in your cunt, and his attention was otherwise occupied. There’s no way his eyes, let alone mind, could drift from the way you play with your pretty pussy.

You’re spread out on his desk, one leg up and the other hanging between his own. The heel of your foot presses against his hard-on, the pressure not being enough for his cock. His hips subconsciously grind up into it, his slacks straining against his thighs at the motion.

“Will you be in tomorrow? I want us to delegate some tasks to the team.”

Jake hums absentmindedly, lips tucked between his teeth as you slip your fingers out and lead them up to your mouth. He tries his best not to groan into the receiver as you lick your fingers clean, spit dribbling out your mouth in an obscene mess. 

Fuck this. 

He puts his phone on speaker and places it on the other end of his desk. With his now free hands, he grabs your hips and pulls you closer to the edge of his table and immediately shoves his face in between your thighs, desperate to taste your sweet cunt. 

Your thighs wrap around his head, hands gripping his hair tightly as his tongue flicks against your clit and slides against you. His fingers creep up your leg making you shiver. You're straining hard to be quiet, biting onto the palm you've clasped over your mouth.

Jake's fingers circle your hole, huffing out a laugh when your whole body jerks at his teasing, and slides two in. He works two digits into your cunt, cum squelching as he pushes in deep. His mouth is back on your clit, sucking the sensitive nub into his mouth, loving the way you tense in his hold.

“Jake, you there? What was that sound?”

Parting from your clit, Jake still fucks his fingers into you. Uncaring of the way you're gripping his dress shirt, eyes squeezed tight as you're nearing closer and closer to orgasm. There's no way he's going to stop now.

“Yeah,” Jake sighed, his voice strained. “I'm listening. Just getting ready to head to the gym. Uh- stretching and stuff.”

“oh, okay… anyways-"

Jake doesn't hesitate to get his mouth onto your cunt just as you shake in his hold, cumming straight on his tongue. So worth it.

Sunghoon

Sunghoon’s barely paying attention to his boss in the other line as it is, but the moment you walk in with the cute loungewear set he bought you, his attention entirely zeros in on you. 

The shorts are tiny and ride up your thighs as you walk towards him. There’s a cheeky smile on your face, and Sunghoon should know by now that’s never a good sign. But really, he can’t find his attention deterring from how glorious your legs look. 

With no words being exchanged, you perch yourself on his lap. Sunghoon’s free arm immediately wraps around your waist, and he pulls you in close. He stretches his arm out with the phone so the microphone doesn’t pick up the chaste kiss he leaves on your lips.

“Hi there, darling.”

Sunghoon is infatuated with you, eyes never straying away from your face. He can’t find himself caring about the possible reprimanding he’ll get tomorrow for not listening to his boss’ instructions. His girl is in his lap, looking unbelievably gorgeous and grinding down into his half-hard cock. 

Wait. 

His mind short-circuits as you continue to roll your hips, a devious smile on your face as you watch Sunghoon’s reactions. 

You pull his pants down until they’re halfway down his thighs, gripping his cock to stroke him a few times. Sunghoon’s hips jump at the contact, thighs tensing at the feeling. 

You eventually lift yourself up with Sunghoon’s help, pulling your shorts to the side to show your dripping cunt. No panties. Good God. 

Your hips circle the tip of his cock, teasing. He hisses when you slide down on his cock, you’re tight and so, so warm it has his head tossing back in pleasure. 

“Sorry? What was that, Sunghoon?”

His boss’ voice filters through and Sunghoon has to remind himself he’s actually on a phone call. But the way you’re rolling your hips in his lap is making it a difficult task to remember. 

“Ah, sorry, I just got a paper cut,” he lets out a fake chuckle, gripping your ass harder. 

You continue to bounce on his cock and Sunghoon continues to lose his mind.

[ceilidho]

landscape with honey

summary: price/reader bear shifter fic. PART 4. (read the whole thing on ao3 here) tags: light daddy kink, breeding kink, very nsfw, she/her pronouns for reader

-

He starts showing up at your house at odd hours. 

You’re fixing coffee in the morning, still fuzzy and warm from sleep, only to hear the sounds of hammering outside. Wrapping yourself in just a housecoat, you find John fixing the loose step on your stairs, barely sparing enough time to greet you before returning to the task at hand. When he finishes, he brushes off your attempts to pay him for the job, just loading his tools back in the car and driving off.

You sip your coffee and wonder. Odd.

The next day, you find him raking the leaves in your lawn. Two days later, he shows up at the grocers when you’re picking up produce, and helps you carry all your bags to the car. He also adds a peculiar amount of canned goods to your order and when you fret and try to tell him that you don’t need the pickles and sauerkraut and beans and all of that stuff, he just lays a hand flat on your head and drags it down your hair until you go quiet. 

He pays for the whole order.

You’ve never had to wonder about a man’s actions. Men are largely inscrutable to you, ever-shifting. They say one thing and mean another. They look at you like one might look at an oil painting, entitled something like Virgin Meeting Her Lover’s Eyes From The Top Of The Staircase or Landscape With Virgin. They speak to you as though an answer were entirely antithetical to their purpose in conversing with you. 

John listens to you with a focus that borders on intimidating, like he wants to hear each word enunciated exactly how you might enunciate it. It has the sharp clarity of respect, of a mutual acknowledgement of humanity. He also comes over to fix your sink without you having to ask. The world of men is still largely confusing to you. 

John grows surlier as the days grow shorter though. He doesn’t snap or snarl at you the way he does sometimes with his recruits (you rarely see him interact with them, but sometimes you’ll drop him off his lunch on the days when you’re feeling particularly generous and that’s when you’ll have the rare pleasure of hearing him shout at a trembling twenty-three year old for littering on the trail like a military captain), but it’s a near thing. 

The worst is when he catches you on a jog one morning on his drive to work. You see his truck with the faded red paint pass you by and you give a short wave that he returns. He passes you by about half a yard before coming to a full stop and reversing. You stare at him as the window rolls down, brows furrowed.

“Hi Jo—” you start.

“Get in the car,” John growls. You hear the doors unlock. 

“…My uh…my shift’s in two hours, John, I can’t just—”

“Get in the car.”

“This is my only time to exercise!”

“If I have to get out of this car and drag you inside, honey, I will. Don’t play with me. Get in.”

You get in the car. Probably wisely. Still dripping sweat and shivering from the cold—you’re not used to jogging in the winter, or at all for that matter, but it seemed like as good a time as any to start—you glance over to stare at the side of John’s face. His jaw is set, almost as if in anger. His knuckles are white over the steering wheel as he makes a U-turn and drives back into town. The cab of his truck smells like flannel pulled out from the back of a closet, almost musty, but comforting in the way that old clothes can sometimes smell. There’s a cigarette ashed out in the dish in front of the centre console. 

He takes you to the nearest bakery for coffee and a breakfast muffin and stares you down until you eat the whole thing. You feel like you have to scarf it down. Customers bustle into the bakery to order coffee to-go and fresh cookies and scones in waxy paper bags; everyone in town knows each other so you try to avoid the more curious stares when they’re turned on you.

“This is weird,” you say, staring down at the crumbs on your plate. “This is really weird.”

“This is what you get for exercising before winter,” John says, flagging down the barista for another muffin and a refill on your coffee. “Waste of calories.” The last part is said derisively, almost with a scoff. 

You frown. “Lots of people exercise. Even when it snows.”

“Winter is a time for hibernating. Not…sweat,” he says with a grimace, like the very thought is anathema to him. 

"Hibernating?" you repeat skeptically, scrunching up your nose. "I mean, I spend a lot of time indoors, but I wouldn't say I'm hibernating."

John stares at you until you look away, flushed. "Finish your breakfast."

The barista returns with another blueberry muffin and a fresh cup of coffee. At least John's the one paying. When he finally seems satisfied, he hustles you home and leaves you off at the door with a stern warning. 

“You gonna be good for me this time?” he asks, a finger curled under your chin, tilting your head up. One of his hands curls around the doorframe and your heart jumps when you hear the wood creak under his grip. This close, you can see the faintest silver streaks at his temples and the flecks of it in his beard.

“It was just a light jog,” you mumble, looking away. 

“Not a light anything,” he warns, ducking closer until you feel like shrinking back, like disappearing into your house. “Bake a cake if you have to burn off energy so bad. I’ll be over around seven, alright?” 

You mumble something, the words getting lost in themselves. It’s impossible to think with John in your space like this. It’s only when he finally pulls away and ambles back to his truck that you rock back on your heels, let go of whatever spell he had you under. 

The first week of December hits town like a truck. 

You’re trudging home alone after your shift when you make the decision to cut through the forest because you missed the last bus and you don’t want to spend an hour walking home. The first snow of the season has caught you off guard, clad in boots too autumnal and a sweater too thin for the biting cold. The flakes fall in thick chunks that stick for a brief moment before melting into the skin.

It’s not the first time you’ve travelled through the forest alone. The town is surrounded by pockets of the forest, like it can’t help enveloping whatever space is left for it. Oftentimes it’s easier just to cut through the woods rather than travel the long way around. You wouldn’t even call this the forest proper, not like the acres of trees sprouting over the mountains just off in the distance. 

A bush rustles. Your eyes flick over for a second, breath hovering in your chest before you decide that it’s just a squirrel. Nothing ever happens in a town like this. The man from the other day notwithstanding, nothing truly bad ever happens. You keep walking down the partially demarcated path, lit only by the full moon overhead. It’s so dark that the snow around you is almost blue. 

The bush rustles again. You stop this time, feet staying planted in the snow long enough for your feet to grow cold. You stare at the dark shoots covered in a layer of snow; it stripes the branches like candy from a time ago, licorice twisted with white bark, and it doesn’t move when you look at it. The bushes and trees are dense, impossible to peer through. Even walking through the forest doesn’t make you feel immersed in it. You follow a barely marked path, hard to see through the recent snowfall, and stare out into the dark woods with a kind of animal sense. Not sure whether you’re alone, whether something’s there with you, and whether it’s sensed you or if you’ve sensed it first. 

You start walking again when your feet go numb. Better to just get home.

It comes behind you again as a slightly louder rustle. It’s harder to shake off the fear this time, harder to say that it’s just the wind. The snow crunches under more than one set of feet, branches cracking under the weight of something larger than you. 

You don’t want to turn around, but the sound of something chuffing makes your stomach drop. The first thing that emerges when you turn to face it is its massive head, a white frosted muzzle, and the visible hump on its back. The wispy smoke of its breath puffs out when it breathes. Its eyes are dark, hardly reflecting any light at all. Then the rest of it emerges, the saplings bending out of its way as it clambers out of the woods and onto the path, staring you down all the while.

You’ve never seen a bear before. Not this close. Not so close that you know it’s been stalking you, know that it didn’t come upon you by accident. You’re staring down at your own body from somewhere else, fear displacing you. Rending you from your own body. There’s no way to guess its weight at a glance, but it’s easily twice the size of you, easily more than that. 

When it takes a step forward, everything goes dark. 

You wake up snuggled under the warmth of a thick blanket. Sleep is creamy thick, engulfing you on all sides, only the faintest prickle of awareness letting you know that you’re awake. 

It’s unpleasant to leave the cotton miasma of sleep, you think. Your nose scrunches up and you let out a tired huff, trying to will yourself back into it. The harder you try to force yourself back into it though, the farther away it floats.

Still it weighs you down. It takes an age to work up the energy to so much as twitch a finger. Even your eyelids insist on staying shut. Yet, the prickle of consciousness needles at you as if to say hello, wake up, you need to get up. You sigh and try to shimmy up onto your elbows.

A hand shoves you back down. The breath rushes out of you.

“Get…back down,” a rough voice grunts from over you and then the full weight of a man settles on top of you, pressing you deep into the mattress. 

Consciousness snaps back into you, elastic sharp. The weight of him pins you to the bed, makes you sink into the plushness of—and this is gradually coalescing in your mind—an unfamiliar place. All four corners of your body are trapped under him. The voice is familiar though. Ragged, brutal. A saw taken to the trunk of an old, thick tree, too many interior rings to count. You whisper John’s name and he grunts, making you flinch from how the sound reverberates through the side of your head.

Exhaustion is thick though and it leaves you heavy, even when John slowly lifts himself to his elbows from behind you. You feel him drag his body down the length of the bed, beard scratching into your skin with every petal soft kiss dropped along your spine during his descent.

“John?” you whisper, only just able to turn your head, not even able to struggle up to your elbows. “J-John?”

He doesn’t answer you. The room is near pitch black, only a window on the other end of the room with the curtain pulled back the smallest amount enough to let the moonlight in. Even the moonlight isn’t enough. You know from the shape of the window that this isn’t your house, that it must be somewhere else. You can only surmise from John’s presence that it’s his, but that thought passes over you like a rock skipping over water. 

“Wher’m’I?” you murmur, eyes fluttering shut when his lips press over the small of your back. Sensitive there. 

Rough hands with callused fingertips smooth over your ass, pressing into the flesh. His fingers pry your cheeks apart, thumbs dipping into the space between and pressing over your hole, making you burn all over. You’re too far gone to worry about any hair on your legs or anything about your body other than John’s hands undulating over your ass and thighs. You flinch violently when his teeth sink into the meat on the underside of your ass, so tender that even exhausted to the bone your body lashes out. 

Big hands pry your legs apart. You flinch at the sudden hot breath over your sex, a whine tickling your throat. His face hovers so close to your centre that the tip of his nose presses on the tender skin near your entrance. 

“Wha’ d’you…think you’re doin’...” you ask breathlessly. Your brain tries to order your leg to kick, but it stays flat and limp on the bed. 

The first touch of John’s tongue along your slit makes you melt, the flat of his tongue lapping upward and making your hips tilt up with it. It almost makes your mind go blank again, almost tips you back into the unconscious world because the synapses in your brain stop firing the second you remember that it’s John between your legs licking hungrily at your cunt. John from the grocery store, John from the ranger’s station in the mountains—the John you’ve been crushing on and coveting for months now, content to just be friends with the gruff, handsome man in the house next to yours. Now sucking one of your nether lips into his mouth and tracing his tongue up the inside, gliding it over the supple flesh.

“Yer in the den,” John mumbles into your pussy and it’s like he sears the words into your brain. “‘N I’m takin’ care of you, honey.”

“The…the den…?” It’s so hard to keep your thoughts in order. Each flick of his tongue makes you gasp, pussy growing wetter and hips grinding languidly down on his face.

He hums instead of answering. 

“Why’m’I so tired?” you slur. 

His tongue saws over your clit from behind. It tears a broken whimper from you. You feel every textured ridge, the way it flicks around in a circle and then up and down again. 

“Winter season,” John says, sucking your clit into his mouth until you whine at the top of your lungs. “Bear’s sleep in winter.”

“Tha’s silly. M’not a bear,” you moan. 

“No,” he agrees, humming into your sex. “Jus’ mated to one. Makes you sleepy too, honey.”

“Mated?” you repeat back, but it’s lost in the way you moan when he eats your pussy from the back, licking into you with renewed vigour. Hungry like a bear. Grunting like a satisfied man, slurping loud enough to make your face heat up. 

Words and old memories about bears hardly matter when the handsome man from next door spreads your legs wide, almost to the point of pain, and sinks his tongue into your hole again. You never would’ve expected John to be vocal, but he’s noisy behind you, groaning into your cunt. He keeps mumbling things under his breath that you can’t catch. 

“John—” you gasp, biting your lip when he sucks your clit into his mouth again. “John—John—”

He only has to give you a single finger to tip you over the edge, feeds it in nice and slow. Your cunt clenches down at the intrusion, teeth nearly breaking through the skin of your lip. 

When he crawls back over you, anticipation makes you shudder. You hear something faint in the background that grows steadily louder as John rests his elbows on either side of your head, until you realize that it’s your own voice murmuring, “Put it in, put it in, put it in—”

He obliges. A thick, steady plunge that hardly manages more than a handful of inches before you’re crying, and it’s too much, too much, too much. Pleasure not a limpid pool anymore but something cavernous and deep-dwelling, pulling you in or trying to make a home inside of you for it. John’s biceps tense with the strain of holding himself back. 

You balance on the knife’s edge between pleasure and pain. There’s a single thought in your head that it might burn you up from the inside; it runs a jagged hole through you. 

His nose drags through your hair. “Never expected you. Thought I’d go another season alone ‘till I started smellin’ you around town.”

You hiccup. “Y’never—never paid me any attention ‘for— before, ah—”

“‘Course I paid attention to’ya, honey,” John says into your ear, grunting when he drives deeper into your pussy, still just a languid grind of his hips, so mind-numbingly slow that your thoughts sizzle out of your head. He keeps dragging his hips back and plunging in, barely pulling away from you, all skin on slick skin. “Made a home for m’self in your house. Made sure we had ‘nough to eat for the winter.”

“The winter?”

“Won’t be goin’ anywhere for a few months.” He brushes your hair out of the way to kiss down your neck, giving in to the urge to bite just a little. His body stays pressed tight to yours, hardly an inch of space between the two of you. “Wasn’ sure at first if it’d be here or in your house so… fuck, I had to get ready. Make sure you’d be safe when it hit.”

“Don’ even…know wha’ that means,” you mumble into the mattress, then squeal and fist the fists when John shoves a hand under you to grope your chest.

“Don’t worry about it,” he shushes you. “All y’have to do now is lie there ‘n take my cock, okay, honey? Can’ya do that for me? I’ll get some food in you after we’re done, then send ya back to bed.”

Only a whine comes out when you open your mouth. John’s arm by your head forces you to breathe in the scent of him, musky and rich. You stare at the hair on his knuckles and his thick fingers gripping the sheets as well, old nicks and scars decorating his hand. You can’t stop staring at his fingers and thinking that he had one of those in you before, that he’s felt you from the inside. 

He never pulls away, never changes positions, just fucks you on your tummy in his bed. You’ve never been in John’s bedroom before, but this has to be his room—even the pillowcase smells like him, pine needles and cigar smoke. He keeps up a steady pounding into your cunt, rutting like a wild animal. Has to be close. Gets so close to you that you feel smothered, trapped in place. Like if you struggled, he wouldn’t let up. You want to test it, see if you could, but the heaviness is still in your limbs, keeping you docile. Convenient. A little convenient thing for him to use, like a doll to get himself off with.

“Never coulda imagined such a pretty girl f’r me,” John groans, getting a grip in your hair to twist your head, tugging you into a kiss. Your whole body sparks to life, so shocked that you can’t even kiss him back at first. You wait until he pulls back, staring into his half-lidded eyes through the mess of your hair all tangled up around you. “Gave up on thinkin’ there was anyone out there. Thank fuck I found you first, honey. Can start workin’ on all the good stuff now. Get you to give daddy a baby.”

“D-daddy?” you gasp back, almost scandalized. 

He pants into your shoulder, worked up now. “Yeah, honey. Don’ I take care of you? Buy y’r food, fix y’r house? Give you someplace nice ‘n warm to sleep?”

You feel soaked with sweat, twitchy, on the verge of something dangerous. Vision all fogged up, heart beating so fast that your skin buzzes. Stretched out on a fat cock and pinned in a man’s bed, nowhere to run or hide. 

“Y-yeah,” you stutter when John gets a bit rougher, his breathing getting more staggered, laboured. 

“That’s right, girl,” he grunts, “I’m y’r fuckin’ daddy then, aren’t I?”

Magma bubbles up from deep inside of you. Rockslides off in the distance beat against the ground. When you cry out, it gets lost in the rubble. 

You stumble into the living room maybe hours later after using the washroom across the hall. Maybe a day later. It’s hard to say how many times the sun has risen and fallen behind the mountains. The clock face stares back at you uncomprehendingly. 

Come drips out of you onto the floor. Thick droplets run down your inner thighs. John is still sleeping in the bed where you left him, snoring like a chainsaw. It must’ve been what woke you up. There’s no way of knowing how long it’s been since he first brought you home, since he left a mess in your pussy, which is still puffy and sore from rough use. You walk with halting little steps to try to minimize the ache. 

You stare bleary-eyed around the room. It feels somehow different than the previous times John’s had you over; there are more throws and blankets draped over the couch, candles scattered around the living room with a lighter on the mantle. 

There’s a fire roaring in the fireplace, blanketing the house in a layer of warmth. It makes you sluggish, stumbling forward only a handful of steps before the shaggy rug in front of the fire drags you back down to the floor. 

“What’re you doing out of bed, pretty girl?” someone rumbles from behind you. 

“Had t’pee,” you say, blinking. You try to rub the sleep out of your eyes unsuccessfully. “Why’m’I still so tired? It’s been…I slept so long…”

“C’mon, honey,” John says, coming up behind you and curling his arms around you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “Told you it was gonna be a long winter. Maybe just one more and then somethin’ to eat, okay?”

It’s easy to sink to the floor, so easy. Especially with the fluffy rug under your feet. Especially with the fireplace toasting you from the outside in, the tinder crackling in the hearth. Everything in the house is dark and warm, only the fire giving you any light at all. Outside the window, the moon is still heavy in the sky. 

Something about the humidity of the den makes you suddenly so tired, boneless, pliable when he goes to move you, when John curves himself around you in the furs and reaches down to slide a hand between your thighs. 

He grunts when he finds you wet and wanting, sinking a couple fingers in and palming your clit. He doesn’t talk much still, but he says good girl when he cants your hips and slowly stretches you out on his cock. Feeds it into you achingly slow, like molasses. Like nothing’s due for another few months, so why rush it? He’ll take his time so you’re nice and happy and sweet come spring for cubs.

You’re not sure what that means. The pace is slow and deep, like before but less intentional. Like he just wants to savour the warmth of your body. 

When he finally comes deep inside you, your body goes limp, collapsing in a heap onto the rug. You expect John to pull out and turn over, maybe pull you onto his chest so you have somewhere to rest. Instead, he sighs all tired and content, and stays in you, still plugged up in your cunt, his spend only just starting to leak out into a pool beneath you. 

“Are we gonna eat?” you mumble, already half-asleep.

Somewhere behind you, he laughs; it’s soft like a snowfall in winter. “Yeah, honey. After a nap, we can eat.”

[anonymousicecream]

The other hole (Momo x M Reader)

Day 20: First time Anal

"Who allowed you to be this revealing huh?" You ask, maintaining your smile as the two of you smile towards the press. "Me. I don't take orders from anyone." You chuckled at her answer before guiding her towards the entrance of the building, before replying to her words. "Wrong answer."

Later that night, the situation was reversed as you found yourself behind Momo, who was laying face down, ass up on the bed.

*PPAK

The sound of your hit on her ass echoing inside the room.

"You disobeyed me, and now you'll pay the price." With that, you got up and went into her bag, conveniently finding a bottle of lube and butt plug. You grab it and set it on the bed next to her, still holding the buttplug as you then move it towards her mouth. Knowing what you want, Momo opens her mouth, letting her saliva coat the plug, before you moved it down, ripping her panties apart before teasing the plug on her entrance.

To her surprise, you instead push it into her ass, earning a loud gasp from her. "W-What are you doing? I never tried anal." Momo's tone shows signs of concerns and hesitation, before you calmed her down. "It's a punishment, should've never used this then." Your words were interrupted once you unhook her top strap, exposing the inexistence of a bra. "Bad girl." You said, before immediately plunging your fingers into her pussy.

"Mmmmhhhhh fuckkk!!!" Her moans got louder as you start fingering her more, and before you know it, you felt her juices start leaking out of her panties, forcing you to stop fingering her, making her a whimpering mess. "What the fuck?" "That was part of the punishment."

Safe to say, your next movement caught her off guard as you laid down underneath her crotch, pulling her crotch down onto your face as you start eating her out. "MMmmmhhhh fuck that feels good." "Ah!" Her moans echo in tandem after each spank you deliver on her ass, as your tongue licks her pussy even faster. After a few seconds, you start alternating between licks and sucks, allowing you to taste the whole extent of her pussy, while your hands didn't rest idle, using one to rub her clit and the other to fondle with her tits.

"Don't cum yet princess." She groans after hearing your words, while you upped your pace, pleasuring her faster, trying to make sure she suffers.

However, something you didn't take into account was how uncontrollable Momo is as she suddenly moans loudly, before squirting all of her juices onto your face and mouth. You groaned lowly before opening your mouth, letting her juices squirt into your mouth.

"AH! What the fuck?" Momo asks after you slapped her pussy and ass a few times. "Bad girl. Should've not cum before I said so." You said, before moving your body up onto the pillow, meeting your face with hers, and your cock with her crotch. You pulled the plug from her ass harshly, leaving a *pop before you threw it away. Deciding to make her pay for her actions, you went in raw as you lowered her ass into your cock, allowing your cock to enter her ass.

"FUCK!" You felt her insides convulse as you let half of your cock inside her ass, before helping her raise her ass again, leaving your tip inside her ass. You repeat this a few times before allowing her to start going deeper on her ass. "Slowly, please. It's my first time." Momo's request was ignored as you had enough of caring about her, and decided to use her for your own pleasure, helping her as she starts riding you faster. This was also aided with the added lubrication in your pre-cum, coating her insides, allowing her to easily slide in and out of you.

Momo didn't fail to not use her amazing assets, using her hands to fondle and rub her tits, increasing her own pleasure before you stop her. "Off. On your fours now." You instructed, before Momo just rests on you, with your cock deep in her ass. "OFF. Now." Momo shook her head. You scoffed before harshly pulling her up, pushing her next to you before you get behind her. You align yourself with her ass again, pushing into her immediately, letting her no time to rest as you thrust into her hard and fast.

You start off with shallow thrusts before going deeper, matching with her moans getting louder as well. You didn't forget to do something she enjoys MUCH, which is to pull her hair, holding it up as you fuck her. "Fuck yeah, pull it harder." You obeyed her request, pulling her hair harder, while she simultaneously twerk while meeting your thrusts, with your cock deep inside her, letting you hit the deepest part of her ass.

"FUCK!" You were surprised at the sudden hard and deep thrust into her ass before dropping your seed, shooting a month worth of cum into her ass. "FUCKKKK AHHHH FUCKKKK!" Your spurts were replied with her moans at the same time, followed by her second orgasm, squirting her juices onto the bedsheets.

[divinegrey]

𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘄𝗮𝗿 / 𝗮𝗺𝗯𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗮 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

took a slight left on the prompt i was given, but it just felt more fitting given what i know of ambessa. hope you enjoy!

prompt: Hi! How about an Ambessa x Reader where the reader is her only weakness besides her family? And, maybe, reader gets hurt in the last battle and Ambessa realizes that sometimes, winning a war is not worth all the losses it causes along the way.

words: 1337

warnings: canon typical violence

“Every war comes with a price to pay.” 

The words echo in your head as you swing your glaive in a wide arc, slicing through the bodies of the blue-suited Enforcers trying to bull-rush you onto the ground. It comes naturally you, the motion and flow of handling your polearm; six feet of handle and two feet of blade, creating a damning vortex of death around you as you cut through the defenses set up by Piltover. The stench of blood lays thick in your nostrils, metallic and complimentary to the lingering scent of magic littering across the stone battlefield. Behind you, more reinforcements rush into the gray, drawing attention off of you.

You glance up in time to notice the Hextech cannon aimed in your direction; there’s little time to think before you dive to the side, curling yourself behind a fallen stone statue as the payload strikes the spot where you once stood, arcane blue scattering out in an explosion that wipes out half of the infantry under your command. 

Despite the ache in your bones and the several gashes bleeding through your armor, you haul yourself over the statue, sprinting across the battlefield. 

Ambessa’s plan is sound— they always are, such is the nature of the Warlord. The death of Rictus, her second-in-command, sent echoes through the ranks. Through you, especially. He, more than anyone, was your brother in arms, a man you could trust to guard your back as much as you guarded his. But even with his esteemed spot by her side, he was never a recipient of special treatment. He never received Ambessa’s love and adoration like you did. 

You slide across the stone, your heel making contact with the shin of an Enforcer. The snap of bone is felt ricocheting through your boot as you come up onto your feet, driving your steel through their chest. Blood spills onto the ground and you exhale, turning face to your General. 

“Thirty percent of my men are dead. The Hextech cannon is proving to be a nuisance,” you remark, a gesture toward the sky where the cannon unloads another shot toward the infantry, bodies going flying. You hardly flinch, more of a grimace passing your face. 

“The cost we pay. Ignore the cannon, press the advantage,” Ambessa instructs. Her eyes flicker past your shoulder, visible beneath the golden mask, and you follow her wordless command, shifting your body to the side the same moment she steps forward, arm raised and magic flaring from the runes wrapped tight. A bullet bounces off the momentary shield. You spin on your heel, hurling your glaive at the would-be killer. 

They fall to the ground, red soaking blue. 

Ambessa kicks up a glaive from the ground, borrowed from another Noxian soldier fallen, and presses it into your hand. “We shall win the day. You most of all. Leave the infantry to deal with the Enforcers. You, with me. We must break through to the door!” 

“Yes, General!” You step into pace with her, charging through the fray at her side. She defends your left, you defend her right. Hours upon hours spent training against her as lent a strength fighting with her, knowing intimately how she moves just as well as she knows how you move. There’s a tenacity, an unbreakable wall forged in the bond between the two of you. 

But every wall will suffer a siege. Every wall will suffer a break. 

You see it before she does. You move before her, your hand finding purchase in her armor and swapping places. The shout that rips through your throat is not one of victory, of force or strength, but of pain, a payload from the Hextech cannon slamming into your back. Your position and the refractions of her runes protect Ambessa; the same cannot be said for you. 

You find yourself hurtling through the air, landing against the stone, metal screeching as you slide to a stop, blood smeared in your vision. You can hardly get a lungful of air down without sputtering out due to the searing agony working up your spine from the impact. The feeling in your legs is fuzzy, barely there, and you struggle to push yourself up. 

Ambessa arrives, the golden halo of Runeterra’s sun behind her head. 

“You fool, why did you—” 

“Can’t ignore the cannon, General,” you hiss out, laying your hand on her arm. Red spreads on her skin, melting into the fabric. “Not when it puts you in danger.” 

She reaches to your face, her palm gripped on your helmet and pulling it off. It’s thrown aside, her own mask removed too— for the first time in what feels like a long, long time, you see it in her eyes. Fear. 

As quick as it came, it’s gone. Ambessa stands, sliding her arms under yours to drag you behind a barricade of Noxian soldiers, shields pressing tight to protect her. 

“That is not the order I gave you,” Ambessa grits out. Her head snaps up, the urgency in her voice enough to instill the smallest worry in you. “Medic, now!” 

“I will be fine, you need to keep fighting, General, please, victory hasn’t been secured—” 

“Victory means nothing if you are not there to see it with me,” says Ambessa, a whispered tone to protect her the vulnerability in her words reserved only for you. 

You’ve known the truth for a long while— there is one weakness you bear, and that is the soft spot in your heart that cradles Ambessa Medarda with all the love you have. The same can be said for her, a tightness in her expression as a medic drops to their knees beside you, pulling the straps of your armor in order to properly assess the damage. You raise your good arm to hold her face, wiping away the tears that could very well easily pass for sweat instead. The very motion seems to stoke an anger in her, not to you, but to those who did this to you. 

“My lion,” you whisper, a forced smile on your face. “I will not fall. And neither will you. Win. For Noxus. For us.” 

Like tempered steel quenched in oil, Ambessa’s face hardens. She leans down, pressing her forehead to yours, breathing in your air as easily as you breath in hers. Never before has she so willingly displayed this much affection with you in front of her soldiers, but if any of them have anything to say about it, they’re wise enough to keep their mouths shut. You and Ambessa apart are terrifying forces of power, but together, you’re nigh unconquerable. 

“Steel your heart, my shield,” Ambessa murmurs, and you nod the slightest amount, enough for her to know you heard her. “We will see Noxus anew.” 

It’s the closest you’ve ever gotten to an I love you. 

Ambessa kisses you, her hand cradled on the back of your head. The din of war seems to cease around you, your senses and what left you have of your fading consciousness focused on Ambessa Medarda, of the woman you swore your life, your fealty, your love to. When she pulls away, you see the struggle in her eyes, her desire to ensure your safety conflicting with the pressing need to ensure victory. 

You make the choice for her, her mask in your hand outstretched to her. 

“The price we pay,” you say, watching as she takes it, a barely there moment of hesitation before she puts it back on her face. She takes her sword in hand and rises, her shadow casting over you. 

“If they do not survive,” Ambessa speaks to the medic, who pauses to listen to her orders. “You will not even get a grave.”

The medic does not deign to respond with words, rather a nod and a renewed urgency. Ambessa looks at you once more; you thump your fist weakly on your chest. 

She runs headlong back into battle, shouting a war cry for the ages. 

~~~~~ A/N: ambessa.... mommy... WHO SAID THAT

[mariasont]

Spoiled - A.H

a/n: felt feral writing this hope y'all enjoy it as much as i did

think im ovulating or something YALL IDK

anyhow happy reading let me know what yall think 🤭

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: in which hotch overhears your conversation with penelope and decides to do something about it

warnings: 18+ MDNI, phone sex!, sex toy!, fem solo masturbation, penelope being a little instigator lmao, dirty talk, soft dom!hotch, established relationship, honestly a little bit of angst whoops, reader is slightly dramatic like hotch has been gone for prob 5 hours STAND UP!

wc: 3.3k

"Penelope Grace Garcia!"

Her comment earned her the full government name, igniting a burst of laughter that you attempt to smother behind your hand. Sinking deeper into the couch, you dismiss the absurdity with a shake of your head. You even find yourself glancing over your shoulder even though you know no one is home.

"You know, I really shouldn't be telling you this, but trust me, that's the least of our worries in this relationship."

"Look, whatever floats your love boat or rocks your bed frame is strictly your business," she comments as if that were the most casual thing to say.

You giggle, a warmth spreading through you as you tread across the kitchen tiles, the phone pressed against your ear. 

"Oh my god, Pen," you let out a laugh, feeling a soft crimson spread across your cheeks, while your thighs swell with the thoughts of your doting boyfriend. "No, no, like I said we're more than okay in that department. It just gets, well, lonely when he's away."

Your hand curls around the neck of your favorite bottle of red, easing the cork free with a satisfying pop. The liquid swirls into the glass, a little more than probably necessary, as the gentle hiss of water beginning to simmer breaks through the kitchen. 

"You, my dear, are a saint among mortals."

"Well, he makes it easy," you shrug, pouring the rice into the bubbling pot, a cloud of steam rising to paint the windows.

"Honestly, I don't know how you manage. I'd be itching for it, especially if it's as good as you say," Penelope admits with a dramatic sigh.

You laugh, propping the phone against the backsplash, its speaker projecting the conversation into the room. Aaron stands just out of sight, unnoticed, taking in your every syllable.

"When he gets back, trust me, every second apart seems like a small price to pay."

"Ever thought about getting yourself a toy? You know, for those long nights?" Penelope hints not (at all) so slyly. 

The wine almost sprays from your mouth as you stifle a surprised splutter. Aaron, still unseen, raises an eyebrow.

"Oh, um, no, I haven't really considered... a toy," you murmur, cheeks burning. You clear your throat, pretending to be engrossed in the simmering pot. "Aaron might have an opinion on that, I guess."

Your attempt at nonchalance was failing, you definitely knew that.

Aaron rested casually against the door frame, a soft smile touching his lips at the sound of your bashful laughter. He'd always had a soft spot for the way your cheeks bloom with color--a sight he wasn't afraid to go great lengths to witness. The idea of a toy seemed to pique his curiosity, drawing a pensive frown as his attention stayed fixed on you for a moment longer.

He slips away silently, his steps carrying him to the front door as you continue your conversation with Penelope.

The call disconnects with a soft click, and you're left in the quiet of the kitchen, unwittingly promising to keep Penelope updated. Turning back to the stove, you stir the sauce with a distracted hand, your lips downturned. Aaron should have been home by now.

The dining table is set, candles flickering, their glow falling on the chair he's yet to fill. You let out a sigh, stealing another look at the ticking clock. The food is ready, but with each passing minute, it grows cooler, just the unfamiliar feeling of disappointment settling in your chest. 

The audible twist of the key catches your attention, and you can't help but glance over your shoulder. Aaron walks in, his lips curving into a smile upon seeing you.

"Hi, my gorgeous girl," he greets, his voice a familiar sound that kindles a familiar flutter into your heart.

He places his briefcase down, the sound muted, and as he approaches, his lips brush a tender kiss against your temple. The annoyance that had been bubbling inside you melts away with his touch. Damn him.

You turn to him, a sheepish "Hi" fluttering out, your cheeks tinged with heat. It's a feeling that's always fresh, the way he still makes you feel like you're back in high school, hearts doodled in the margins of your notebook.

Aaron settles into his chair, the soft scrape of wood against the tile following his movements.

"Sorry 'M late," he offers, his tone warm, appreciative. "Everything looks and smells wonderful, honey. Thank you."

His fingers gently sweep a loose strand of hair from your face, his smile softening you, disarming you. He's so beautiful.

"You're welcome," you reply, your cheeks growing warmer with each word. "And, um, I hope it's okay. It might be a bit cold. I thought...I guess I assumed you'd be home sooner."

You voice trails off, leaving behind a trail of embarrassed concern, wondering if perhaps you'd somehow overstepped. 

Aaron looks at you, his eyes turning kind as he discerns the unease on your face.

"I'm sorry, baby, got held up with a little errand." He bites into the food, and a gratified hum indicates his approval. "This is delicious."

You find yourself beaming at the praise. He had a talent for that--praising you, almost as if he'd made it his life mission. This was a first for you in a relationship, and it's exactly why the late nights and time spent alone didn't weigh so heavily. 

After dinner, you're rinsing off the plates when Aaron's hands draw you close, his hands claiming your waist, the heat of his palms radiating through the fabric of your shirt. He plants a soft kiss on your shoulder.

"Let me help with that. You're spoiling me," he insists, his words spoken into your damp skin.

You lean back into his embrace, his chest flush against your back.

"I like taking care of you," you admit, heart skipping a beat under the weight of his gaze, the softness in his eyes dissolving your concentration on the task at hand. 

A deep, affectionate groan escapes Aaron as he pulls you even closer. But all good things come to an end, and the ringing of his phone seems like an icy intrusion, like a sudden draft into the kitchen.

"Hotchner," he answers, and even though the word leaves his lips, his fingers gently sketch patterns across your hip. 

You feel your heart sink. When he hangs up, his eyes lock with yours, brimming with an apology he doesn't voice. It's unnecessary, you already know.

"A case?" You hate how small your voice sounds, dipped in an understanding you wish you didn't have.

He nods, a simple stupid gesture that sends a lump of disappointment soaring up your throat, which you desperately try to swallow down. 

"Okay... just, be careful, okay? I'll miss you."

"And I'll miss you, angel. Be good for me."

There's a hollowness in the house that follows you through each room. You were well aware of Aaron's demanding job when you started dating--the unpredictable schedule, the sudden departures, the cases that required his immediate attention. Still, this awareness did nothing to soften to sting of his absence. At all. 

You found yourself wandering aimlessly, picking up a book only to set it down unread, starting a movie but not really watching. Eventually, you ended up in the bedroom, his bedroom, where the subtle scent of his cologne lingers. It's both comforting and heart-wrenching. God, you felt like you were being so dramatic.

You climb into the bed, the sheets cool against your skin, too big and empty without him. Your eyes darts to the phone resting on the nightstand. You've always been careful not to disturb him while he's working, but tonight felt different.

With a trembling hand, you pick up the phone, your thumb hovering indecisively over the screen. Reluctantly, you returned it to its place. There was no point in bothering him.

A sudden draft sent a shiver up your spine, reminding you of the blanket Hotch had bought for you a couple months ago. You sighed, rising from the bed and moving to the closet.

But your eyes skipped over the blanket, instead fixating on a shiny pink bag tucked away in a secluded corner. Compelled by a spike of curiosity, you grabbed the bag and pulled it open. Your eyes widened, cheeks burning with a sudden flush as you placed it on the bed. How long had this been hiding here? And the timing--just after your conversation with Penelope--felt almost too uncanny. 

You went back to your phone.

Hi

The message was simple. You hit send before you can second-guess yourself.

Almost immediately, your phone vibrated--Aaron's name illuminated the screen. You answer, and his voice was there, infused with immediate concern.

"Hi honey. You okay?" His question was straightforward, cutting through the noise.

You nodded, forgetting for a moment he couldn't see you. Shifting on the bed, you said softly, "Um, yeah, I'm fine. I didn't mean to bother you. Is it a bad time?"

His response is quick. "You could never bother me."

A blush flares on your cheeks, and a smile instinctively forms. You fidget on the bed, the sheets sighing with your movements, sounds that don't escape Aaron's attentive detection.

"Can't seem to find the right spot without me there, huh?"

"I can't seem to do a lot of things without you here," you grumble under your breath, intended more for yourself than for him. The bed emits a soft creak as you turn again, your breath hitching in a pout that he can almost see through the phone. "Aaron, I found something in the closet..."

You lost your words, fingertips tracing the toy's edge, as you fumbled with the strings of your shorts.

"Hmm? Care to enlighten me."

"You know."

You weren't in the mood for his teasing, because you knew he knew. You could sense his smugness, his voice dripping into that familiar, velvety register that prompted your lips to purse.

"I don't know, sweetheart."

Once again, you found yourself stirring against the linen, nibbling on your lip as a wave of exasperation washed over you, your eyes rolling into their sockets.

"Where are you?"

"Just got to my hotel room." You could hear the subtle movements in the background, accompanied by the soft groans of the mattress under his weight. "What did you find in the closet that was so urgent you needed to text me in the middle of my case?"

Your face was warm. "You said it wasn't a bother."

"And I meant it, now spell it out for me."

Your hands cautiously pushed over the toy, examining its buttons and sides. Subconsciously, your tongue swept over your top teeth. You lowered your voice as though someone else might overhear.

"The toy...is it for me? I mean, I would hope so. If not, well, we'd have a rather awkward issue."

"Yes, it's for you, baby."

You stifled a grin. How could he have known? That profiling business was really no joke.

"Why?"

His muffled chuckle filtered through, and you could almost see the flash of his pearly whites. You really missed him, so much so that you were conjuring vision of his mouth of his on places that should not be said aloud. 

"I just want to make sure my best girl is taken care of when I'm not home." You could practically hear the smirk on his lips.

You were deep in your fantasy now, your free hand sliding down your shorts as you envisioned him propped against the headboard of his hotel bed, tie hanging loosely, hair tousled just so.

"I'm always taken care of by you, Aaron," you said quietly.

You didn't know how to go about this, whatever this even was. You were treading into unknown territory; never having had phone sex with Aaron--or anyone for that matter.  It was a far cry from the occasional suggestive text.

"That's right." His voice flowed like honey in your ear, causing a shiver as your finger skimmed over your underwear, your breathing momentarily faltering. "You're going to be well taken care of for the rest of your life, yeah?"

"Yeah."

You could hardly breathe, squirming against your own touch, glancing over at the toy that sat beside your hip.

"I want you to know how much I appreciate your patience. You're a good girl, honey. Far too good for me." You weren't. It was the other way around; you didn't deserve him. You told yourself that every day. "I know you get lonely, and I know it's something you'd never admit to."

"Aaron..."

He didn't let you finish. "Why don't you tell me what you're doing right now?"

Your actions came to an abrupt standstill, thumb suspended above your clothed clit. You entertained the thought that this FBI gig might have been a front for a psychic, maybe one of those fortune teller types.

You were mumbling into your sleeve, a private conversation with the threads. "Just...um, well it's hardly worth mentioning, honestly."

Wow you're sure you fooled him.

"I'm not fond of dishonesty." The low rumble of his voice sent a tremor through your core. "I'm giving you a final chance. Tell me what you're doing, sweetheart."

A hard swallow passed your throat, your thumb rubbing idle circles into the band of flesh on your hip. 

"Well, I, uh, was touching myself." The words felt as awkward as they sounded, an internal wince accompanying each syllable at how unsexy you were speaking.

"Where, sweetheart?"

You exhaled sharply at the question, heavy with exasperation at his insistence on drawing this out. But the slickness between your legs was undeniable. Your hand slid back to the delicate skin between your thighs.

"Aaron, please," you breathed out so faintly it was almost inaudible.

He was playing a cruel game, and he knew it. You hardly cussed let alone talk about your lady parts so openly.

"I hope I've never given you a reason to feel judged, honey." There was a sweetness in his voice that masked his darker intentions. "Just tell me where. I want to help."

Your tongue flicked nervously across your lip, your finger dipping into the valley of your folds as you mulled over his offer. You were wet, far more than you had anticipated, practically coating your thighs in the process.

"No, 'course not," you said softly, biting back a sigh as your thumb worked slowly against your inflamed clit. "It's just, you're so far, Aaron."

"Why do you think I got you that toy?" Your gaze darted to the pink thing, resting against your hip. "I want you to use it. I'll walk you through it, just like I would in person."

You could melt. You could liquefy into nothingness on the spot. Your fingers pressed more urgently against yourself, a deep-seated wish for him to be here surfacing, knowing all the while it was a baseless hope.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

"There you go, that's my girl."

You couldn't hold back the whimper that fell from your lips as you arched against the bed, fingers diving into your cunt.

"My needy girl," he repeated, his laughter resonating with a patronizing tone that oddly egged you on. "Alright, can you pick up the toy for me?"

You wedged the phone snugly between your shoulder and ear, your hand closing around the pink, curved object, scrutinizing its every detail with careful eyes.

"Okay."

It was big, not as big as Aaron, but its dimensions were nonetheless imposing. You felt your chest heave in anticipation, waiting for his instructions.

His silence was stretching your patience thin. You turned it on, and it came to life, watching as it vibrated, the soft buzz permeating the space. You let it trail over your stomach, fabric gathering as your shirt rode up. Nearing your clit, you braced, taking in a quick breath.

But that breath was released in a strangled moan as you pushed the toy firmly into your sopping hole, legs spreading expansively as a taut sensation gripped your center.

"Did I say you could use it already?" he questioned, his tongue clicking in disapproval as you strained against the device, the second prong vibrations coursing against your nub, your whole-body jerking in response.

"N-No, 'M sorry," you panted, your focus narrowing as you pushed to toy in and out, your lips rounding into an 'o'. "It feels really good, Aar."

"I'm sure it does, baby," he teased, his voice carrying a certainty that your own lacked. "Let me hear you fuck yourself with it.

You loved hearing him curse, it was rare, and usually reserved for intimate moments like this. It fueled your actions, your wrist quickening, driving the device deeper, your stomach twisting in tight knots, a loud moan escaping unrestrained, suddenly you were thankful for the distance between Aaron's house and the next.

It felt so good, and yet somehow still not comparable to how it was with Aaron. Weren't you spoiled?

"Miss you so much," you slurred, your movements stuttering as the device worked your body in ways you didn't know were possible.

"Miss you too, angel. You're doing so good."

"Can you, ah, come home, p-please?"

You weren't even sure of what you were saying, all your thoughts on chasing your high and pretending the toy was Aaron's cock. Thinking about how he'd fill you up right now, how he'd press you to the mattress, how his body would cover yours.

"Your present isn't enough?" His tone was taunting, your eyes welling with tears, clouding your vision as your hips bucked against the toy. "That's a shame, sweetheart, think maybe you've been a little spoiled. You can't have my cock all the time."

You were completely dazed, his sentences barely making their way through the fog as you'd like them to. You were crying, you think, hot and relentless tears carving a path down your face as you fucked yourself harder against the toy.

The noises coming from your pussy were obscene, soaked and squishing as you tried to respond to Aaron, but nothing but small hiccups were escaping your mouth.

"It's okay, baby, I know. You're doing so good for me. I can hear it."

Your cheeks and ears flared with a heat that spelled out your shame, but it was the least of your concerns. Your walls tightened against the device, the pressure on your clit suddenly all too much and not enough at the same time. Gasping for air, your breaths came out in uneven bursts. When you tried to call out Aaron's name, it emerged as nothing more than a choked sob.

"C-Can I? Please, need to so bad." You weren't entirely convinced you were speaking English, but Aaron understood. 

"Go ahead, sweetheart."

That was all you needed. Your cunt contracted again before vaulting over the edge, nearly losing consciousness in the process, a string of moans and half-said words pouring out of your lips.

You could hear the sound of his voice, but the words were just out of reach, not fully making sense. You felt your body twitch, and you blinked deliberately, once, twice, three times, in an effort to reconnect your body to your mind.

"You're so good, baby. So good. Miss you so much."

You pulled the toy, now soaked, from yourself, cringing at the lewd sound as you laid it beside you, making a mental note to wash the sheets later. Although if Aaron had his way that wouldn't happen.

"I miss you." You hated the way your voice betrayed ever emotion you had.

"Need you to go pee for me, sweetheart."

He sounded so soft and tired, but somehow still present. You let out a soft snicker as you curled onto your side. 

"Can't move my legs," you mumbled, the sound muffled by the way your cheek was squished into the pillow. "Need you to come carry me."

His laugh was something you wished you could bottle up. "Spoiled."

"And who's to blame for that?" You were ready for his witty retort, but it was cut short by the sudden flash of your phone. You squinted at the caller ID. "Sorry, Penelope is calling me, can I call you back in a second?"

"Course, honey. Thank her for the idea, yeah?" Your mouth fell open as you scrambled for the right words. Of course he had heard. "Also, I plan on spending a few solid hours fucking you when I get home, so I suggest you get some rest."

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

[ms-demeanor]

I've been following what's been going on with Belphie the kitten and his person, Greer Stothers, has just mentioned pet insurance in a tag on a post and I wanted to give an example from my life backing up why pet insurance can be a good idea and why I think it is worthwhile.

Two years ago my sister's dog had bloat while she was on vacation. The kennel he was staying at recognized symptoms and called my sister to clear them to take him to the emergency vet. My sister is very financially secure and this dog is an enormous part of her life, so she said yes with barely a moment of hesitation. That ended up being about twelve thousand dollars of emergency surgery.

Large Bastard and I got pet insurance for Tiny Bastard the same week because we realized that if someone had presented that option to us, we would have had no choice but to have Tiny Bastard put down, and we didn't want to be put in that position.

I did a lot of research about different kinds of pet insurance and different levels of coverage and annual maximums and deductibles and so on and so forth. Tiny Bastard is a senior dog, so this was going to be expensive no matter what options we went with, so I chose a moderately priced plan with a $500 annual deductible, unlimited annual coverage, that pays 80% of the bills incurred annually below the maximum. What that means is that we pay the first $500 of care totally out of pocket, after which point we are reimbursed 80% of any vet bills for care covered by the plan.

The first year we had this plan I was kind of iffy about it. It's a noticeable monthly expense and we didn't even spend the deductible in vet bills the first year. Except that a month before the policy was set to renew, Tiny Bastard got diagnosed with diabetes. We now have monthly insulin costs and syringe costs; there are tests she has to have regularly to monitor her overall condition and we need to do more frequent vet visits to track symptoms.

Suddenly the insulin alone means that the insurance is break-even within six months and the additional visits and tests are something we can afford instead of something we'd have to put on credit.

Our plan (through ManyPets) covers medication, surgery, diagnostics, medical equipment, and euthanasia and cremation. It doesn't cover pre-existing conditions, joint conditions for dogs who were signed up over a certain age, dental care, spay/neuter, vaccinations, or prescription food but honestly all of that makes me just kind of wish we'd signed her up earlier - her knee problems *would* be covered if we'd had her signed up as a puppy, and the monthly cost would have been lower if we'd signed her up then. And there are at least a few emergency vet bills that I wouldn't still be paying off on my credit card. Hell, I've probably paid more in interest on some bruising she got in a fight three years ago than I have for this policy as a whole.

I am glad that Greer is able to take care of Belphie. I am glad that my sister was able to take care of her dog. But I'm also really, really glad that for a relatively low cost, I would be able to take care of Tiny Bastard if she were catastrophically injured, or if she needed emergency surgery. I'm glad that I'm able to take care of her now with her medications and her additional vet visits.

There are a lot of people who say that pet insurance isn't worth it, especially not for young animals. But if your young animal gets very sick, or gets badly injured, or eats a hairband and needs an emergency endoscopy, then it will probably be VERY worth it. It's a risk/reward question. You feel like you're wasting money if you're paying for a policy that you never use, but honestly that just means you're lucky to have a healthy pet.

I'm lucky that Tiny Bastard was relatively healthy before I got the insurance; I'm also lucky that she was insured when she was diagnosed with a chronic illness that will need lifelong care. This enables me to provide care for her that would otherwise be financially unmanageable, and that makes the insurance *extremely worth it* from my perspective.

And Belphie is a good example of why it's a good idea to get coverage even for very young pets. Greer is recommending it because this kitten has required a tremendous amount of care during a period in his life when it's generally taken for granted that a cat will be healthy. (And Greer is not stupid for forgoing pet insurance - pet insurance is still a relatively new concept and there are lots of people who are leery of it for a number of good reasons)

So I'd say that if you've got a pet or are getting a pet it is very worthwhile to find a pet insurance plan that fits in your budget. There are a variety of plans out there and some are very inexpensive. Check coverage levels (you can even get some with wellness plans that include dental care and vaccinations) and see if there's something that works for you.

I personally don't think I'm ever going to own another pet without having pet insurance. It's ridiculous how much easier it is for me to say yes to diagnostic tests or different treatments than it was before because I know I'm going to be able to fit Tiny Bastard's care into our budget.

[cybersunnie]

knock, knock! who's there?

RAFE CAMERON sets his sights on the baker's granddaughter.

includes fem!baker!reader / reader has a nickname ("honey") / rafe being an unreliable narrator / dialogue heavy / offensive language ("bitch", one fatphobic comment not directed at reader) / wc 984

Every Wednesday, his dad would say, “Rafe, go get the door.” Make yourself useful. And like a dog, he often did as he was told. 

This little routine started right after Midsummer. Some sorry excuse of a bakery from the Cut captured Sarah’s attention, and she had been hooked ever since. Rafe didn’t understand why. Not in the slightest. There were more qualified bakeries in Figure Eight that weren’t made from the hands of dirty Pogues. He was sure their dad didn’t understand either, but if Sarah wanted something, Sarah got it. Always. 

But holy shit, this grandma was testing his patience. Knock! Knock! She had been knocking non-stop. Was she always this annoying? Rafe scratched his temple, his jaw tight. Knock! Knock! He rolled his eyes.

She sure must be in a hurry. He was surprised the old bitch was still alive, let alone walking. All frail and trembling and one step away from a heart attack. 

He hated that that would be his future. If he lived that long, that was.

Knock! Knock! “Yeah, yeah, coming!”

Rafe swung the door open. She was lucky she was an old lady because he would have—

Not an old lady.

No, it was just a lady. The baker's granddaughter, if he wasn't mistaken. He had seen you at the Midsummer, but you were a Pogue working, and he was a Kook celebrating.

His fingers loosened around the doorknob, his gaze locked on your face. For once, the voices were quiet. 

You stood on his family’s front porch, holding a box with a clipboard tucked under your arm. The wind picked up, sweeping past you and into his home. A scent of something sweet filled his nostrils. He couldn't tell if it came from the baked goods or you. 

With ease, you gave him a practiced smile. “Hey, I've got an order for Sarah. Two chocolate strawberry cupcakes and a half-dozen chocolate matcha cookies. Is she here?”

Rafe stared at you. "Uh, yeah. But you know, I'll pay for it."

He usually did, anyway—not by choice, but because his dad wanted him to.

"Okay, that'll be twenty-five dollars." You extended your hand.

"Twenty-five? It was twenty last week."

You tilted your head, still smiling. He knew how Pogues like you worked. It was a mask to hide your true intentions. "Inflation. Prices have gone up, so we had to adjust."

Skeptical, he looked you up and down. "Inflation, huh?"

You raised your brows. "You don't know what inflation is?" 

He scoffed, running his tongue along the inside of his cheek. He’d much rather deal with your grandma right now—at least she wasn't such a smartass.

Rafe reached for his wallet and grumbled, "I know what inflation is." He handed you the exact change. "You better not be lying, Pogue."

"I'd never lie to a loyal customer's brother," you assured, taking his money and offering the box of baked goods. He didn't believe you for a second. As he grabbed the package, you took out the clipboard from under your arm and faced it to him, clicking the pen. "Sign here, please."

He skimmed over the delivery receipt. “Am I gonna see you ‘round here more often?”

“Maybe. If your sister keeps buying.”

"Can I at least get a name?"

There was a pause. You could hear the birds chirping, and the leaves rustling. Rafe lifted his gaze to meet yours, waiting. 

You pulled the clipboard to your chest. "Everyone calls me Honey."

"Honey?" he huffed, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. "That's cute," he commented half-heartedly.

You hummed, and he swore he saw your professional composure slip. You looked annoyed—maybe even flustered. As he handed the pen back, his fingers brushed yours, the mere touch electrifying.

He opened his mouth to say something, but Sarah appeared behind him before the words could form, her voice cutting through the air, “And I’ll be taking this, thank you very much!” She snatched the box from his hands and flashed you a smile. “Hey, it’s you. Where’s your grandma?”

Rafe sighed through his nose. He had hoped to have you to himself.

He noticed your shoulders tense. "She's at home. Doing deliveries isn't easy for her nowadays."

No shit. That old bitch was pushing ninety. 

He stayed silent.

Sarah nodded, her lips pursed to the side. "Well, tell her Wheezie and I said thank you for the treats."

"Will do.”

He waited for you to meet his gaze, but when you did, he said nothing. Rafe simply watched. You had a pretty face for a Pogue. Soft and delicate, unlike your sharp tongue. What a waste.

Soon, your perfected customer service smile slipped. You turned around, murmuring something about Kooks under your breath as you walked away. He leaned against the doorframe, unable to help but notice the sway of your hips with every step you took.

His sister's voice snapped him back to reality. "What was that about?"

When he looked at her, she was already stuffing her face, a touch of frosting on the tip of her nose. There was a knowing look in her eyes. It pissed him off. 

Change the topic. Deflect. 

"You're gonna get fat if you keep ordering that shit."

Sarah shrugged. "Whatever." And just to spite him, she took a bigger bite and started walking towards the kitchen. "Wheezie! The cupcakes and cookies are here!"

Rafe ran a hand down his face, eyes finding your retreating form. 

Honey. Oh, how had he never noticed you before? 

You were always there. Midsummer. The Boneyard. It was too bad you lived in the fucking Cut because that meant you were just like them. Those Pogues—scrappy, uncivil, liars. Not even your pretty face could redeem that part of you. But maybe, just maybe, you were different.

Rafe shut the door softly, his hand lingering on the knob. He just needed to figure you out.

sunnie speaks! i love my baker!reader and how she makes him spiral <3 also, lmk what you guys think because idk how i feel about this LMAO i doubt i'm going to write a part 2, but i'm open to exploring this dynamic!!! let's chat about rafe cameron / baker!reader

if you like my work, consider following @sunniefics to stay up to date on all my future fics!

[fangdokja]

🔞Run all you want, little omega—I love the chase.

❤︎ Synopsis. Bound by fear and desire, an omega finds herself ensnared by a cruel, possessive alpha who thrives on her pain and submission, claiming her body and soul as his own. As she struggles to escape his grasp, she learns that freedom may come at a price too terrifying to pay.

♡ Book. A Heart Devoured: A Dark Yandere Anthology

♡ Pairing. Yandere! Alpha! Wolf Hybrid x Fem. Reader

♡ Novelette. #1 - Marked and Mated

♡ Word Count. 10,767

♡ TW. dom + top + older yandere, non-con, rape, blood play, overstimulation, forced oral, prey x predator dynamic, fear play, hunting play, permanent bodily injury, slut shaming, objectification, psychological torment, erotic horror elements, loss of virginity, mature language, fingering, humiliation, degradation, forced orgasms, sadism, BDSM, groping, omegaverse dynamics, biting, physical assault and violence, choking / breath play

The forest is alive with the whispers of fear. Your breath comes in sharp, shallow bursts, each one slicing through the silence as you sprint through the thick underbrush. The fading light casts skeletal shadows across the forest floor, turning every twisted branch into a claw and every rustling leaf into the promise of something far worse. Your heartbeat is a wild drum, a desperate cadence that seems to echo the heavy footsteps closing in behind you.

“You can’t hide from me, little omega.” His voice rumbles like thunder through the twilight, a low, predatory growl that seems to wrap around you, suffocating and inescapable.

You don’t look back. You’ve learned by now that it’s a mistake to give him the satisfaction of seeing your terror. Instead, you focus on the path ahead—or what little you can see of it. The forest is dense here, the trees towering and gnarled, their roots eager to snare your stumbling feet. You’ve always prided yourself on your strength, your defiance, your ability to stand tall even when the world tried to bend you. But now, as the alpha’s guttural laugh reverberates through the trees, you feel the first cracks in your resolve.

“Oh, I’ll give you credit for trying,” he purrs, his amusement curling through the air like smoke. “But we both know how this ends, don’t we?”

You grit your teeth, pushing harder, your muscles screaming in protest. You’ve never been one to back down, not even when he first set his sights on you. The cat and the wolf, they’d said. A pairing as impossible as it was inevitable. And yet, here you are, the prey in a hunt you can’t seem to win.

He’s always known what you are beneath the mask. An omega masquerading as an alpha, a fragile shell of dominance that he’d seen through from the very beginning. It’s not your fault, really. Survival demanded the façade. But survival is a cruel master, and it’s brought you to him. The predator who doesn’t just want to unmask you but to rip you apart, piece by trembling piece, until there’s nothing left but the shattered remains of your pride.

The sound of snapping branches draws closer, and you know he’s toying with you now. Letting you think you have a chance, letting you run just far enough to taste freedom before he rips it away. The ground beneath you is uneven, littered with roots and fallen leaves that threaten to trip you with every step. The forest seems to close in, the trees looming, their twisted limbs reaching for you like greedy hands.

“Run,” he commands, his voice a cruel whisper that somehow slices through the cacophony of your pounding heart and ragged breath. “Run faster, little omega. Make it fun for me.”

Your lungs burn, your legs ache, but you don’t stop. You can’t. The thought of what awaits you if he catches you… no, when he catches you… is too much to bear. His scent lingers in the air, sharp and musky, an oppressive reminder that no matter how far you go, he’s always there. Watching. Waiting. Hunting.

────────────

The chase is relentless, and despite your efforts, you feel his breath hot on your neck, his large hands almost grabbing hold of your tail. Panic flutters in your chest, and you know that if he catches you, there's no telling what he'll do. The trees blur together as you sprint, your sides burning with exertion.

You spot a small clearing up ahead, and you make a desperate dash for it, hoping for a moment's respite.

But as you leap into the open, you realize your mistake too late.

The clearing is a trap, surrounded by thorny bushes and a steep ravine, leaving you no escape.

He emerges from the shadows, his teeth bared in a vicious smile. "Looks like you're mine now, omega," he sneers, his eyes flashing with triumph. Your stomach turns to lead as you realize you're cornered, the predator closing in for the kill.

"No, please," you whimper, your voice cracking with fear as he prowls closer.

He stops a few feet away, his towering form casting a long shadow over you. "You know what you need," he says, his voice low and commanding. "You need a strong alpha to show you your place."

You grit your teeth, refusing to give in to his taunts, your eyes flashing with defiance.

But his scent is overwhelming, a potent mix of musk and power that sends a thrill through your body despite your fear.

"I'll never be your omega," you spit out, your voice stronger than you feel.

He laughs, a cold, cruel sound that sends a shiver down your spine. "We'll see about that."

As you remain defiant, your eyes never leaving his, the alpha wolf's smile only widens. He seems to enjoy the challenge, his eyes gleaming with a newfound excitement.

He takes a step closer, and you react instinctively, lashing out with your claws and teeth. You manage to scratch his muscular arm with your claws, drawing a thin line of crimson against his otherwise perfect skin.

He grunts in surprise, but instead of retreating, his eyes light up with a predatory thrill. "So you want to play hard to get, huh?" He says, his voice thick with amusement. "Fine, I can do that."

With a sudden burst of speed, he lunges at you, his powerful jaws snapping shut around your neck.

You yelp in pain and surprise as his teeth dig in, the pressure enough to make you dizzy but not enough to break the skin. He lifts you off the ground, your legs kicking wildly in the air. His grip tightens, and you feel the world start to spin around you.

"Struggle all you want, it'll only make it better," he whispers in your ear, his hot breath sending waves of fear and disgust through your body. You thrash in his grip, trying to break free, but his strength is overwhelming.

His teeth clamp down harder, a clear warning of what's to come if you don't submit. You can feel your energy waning, the fear and pain making it difficult to keep fighting.

He drags you through the thorny bushes, tearing at your clothes and skin. The pain is intense, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of hearing you scream. He tosses you onto the ground, the impact knocking the wind out of you.

Before you can recover, he's on top of you, his heavy weight pinning you down. His clawed hands rip away the remnants of your shirt, exposing your bruised and bleeding skin to the cool night air, as you thrash and squirm in response.

The alpha wolf's grin widens as you fight back with renewed vigor, his eyes gleaming with excitement at your resistance. He grabs your wrists in his massive hands, pinning them to the ground above your head with surprising gentleness.

"Oh, you're going to be so much fun to break," he murmurs, his tongue flicking out to taste the blood that trickles from the scratches you've managed to inflict. His weight shifts, pressing his thick erection against your pelvis, and you can feel the heat radiating from it even through your torn pants.

With a quick, efficient movement, he rips your pants away, exposing your vulnerable, untouched sex to his hungry gaze. You try to buck him off, but his grip on your wrists is unyielding. "Don't worry, bitch," he purrs, "I'll make sure you enjoy this. Eventually."

His other hand moves down your body, his claws tracing the lines of your ribs and stomach with feather-light precision, sending shivers of fear and unwanted arousal through you.

Your hiss pierces the night air, a mix of anger and fear, as you furiously claw at the hybrid wolf's chest. Your nails dig into his flesh, leaving shallow trails of blood behind.

He snarls, his grip on your wrists tightening slightly, but instead of retaliating, he seems to be getting more and more turned on by your resistance. "Such a feisty little omega," he murmurs, his eyes darkening with lust. "But we both know who's in control here."

Ignoring your futile struggles, he lowers his head and runs his tongue along the column of your throat, savoring your taste. You try to turn away, but his jaw clamps down on your neck, his teeth grazing your skin just hard enough to make you whimper. He releases your neck, his eyes locking onto yours. "You're mine now," he growls, "And I'll have every part of you."

“I have a mate already!” You scream a panicked lie, remaining defiant.

He laughs, a dark, cruel sound that sends a shiver down your spine. "A mate?" He repeats, his grip on your wrists tightening slightly.

"You think that means anything to me? I'm going to fuck you until you forget his scent, until you're begging for me to knot you." With those words, he leans down, capturing your mouth in a brutal, claiming kiss. His tongue forces its way past your teeth, tasting the sweetness of your fear and the metallic tang of your blood.

You try to bite him, but he anticipates your move, his teeth clamping down on your lower lip, drawing more blood. He pulls back, his eyes gleaming with victory. "You're mine, omega," he whispers, his breath hot against your face.

With a sudden, brutal yank, he pulls you closer, his erection now pressing painfully against your stomach. His hand moves between your legs, his claws digging into your tender flesh as he rips away the last of your clothing.

You scream into the night, the sound piercing and desperate, but it's swallowed by the forest's indifferent embrace. The cold ground beneath you is unforgiving, a stark contrast to the heat of his body pressing against yours.

Your desperate fight against his overwhelming strength is met with a sadistic chuckle as the hybrid wolf seems to take pleasure in your futile struggles. He pins your arms above your head with one paw, his other hand moving to your breasts.

He squeezes them roughly, eliciting a gasp of pain that turns into a whine when his claws dig in slightly. "You're so delicate," he says, his voice a mix of mockery and lust. "So easily broken."

You manage to free one arm and deliver a weak punch to his jaw, but it barely phases him. He just laughs and captures your wrist again, his grip like iron. "That's the spirit," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"But it's not going to save you." His clawed hand slides down your body, teasing over your stomach and finally coming to rest between your legs. You try to clench your thighs together, but his weight makes it impossible.

"Open up," he commands, his voice a low, guttural growl. "You know what I want."

As you refuse to give in to his demand, the alpha hybrid wolf's eyes flash with anger and arousal. He leans down, his teeth bared, and sinks them into your inner thigh, biting as hard as he can.

You scream out in pain, the sound piercing the quiet forest night. Your body arches off the ground, your legs instinctively trying to close, but his weight holds you down firmly. His bite is deep, and you can feel the warmth of your blood trickling down your thigh, mixing with the scent of your fear and his own lust.

He releases your wrists for a moment, only to grab your legs and force them apart with his powerful hands. You kick and struggle, but it's useless. His teeth dig in deeper, the pain unbearable, and your body responds despite your mind's protest.

The hybrid wolf's teeth tear into your sensitive flesh as he forcefully spreads your legs apart, the pain from his bite making your body tense.

He doesn't give you a chance to recover as he dives between your thighs, his hot, wet tongue sliding over your clit with a brutal lack of finesse.

You try to clench your muscles to avoid his assault, but the pain and fear make it impossible to maintain. He laps at you harshly, his tongue rough and uncaring as he tastes your resistance. You can feel the beginnings of an unwelcome arousal building within you, despite the agony of his bite marks in your thigh.

He smirks at your involuntary reaction, his eyes gleaming with triumph as he sees the beginnings of arousal shimmering in your gaze despite your pain. He knows he's getting to you, and it only makes him more determined to claim what he sees as his.

His tongue swirls around your clit, the roughness of his licks sending shockwaves of pleasure-pain through your body. You try to pull away, but his teeth dig into the soft flesh of your inner thigh, holding you in place as he continues to ravage your pussy.

As he fucks you with his tongue and teeth, your body betrays you. Your hips begin to buck against his mouth, your moans and screams growing louder despite your attempts to stifle them.

Your nails dig into the dirt, desperate for something to hold onto as the pleasure-pain overwhelms you. His teeth graze your clit, and you feel your orgasm building, a crescendo of unwanted ecstasy that you can't escape from.

He pulls away from your throbbing clit, panting heavily, his tongue and teeth coated with your juices. "You're so fucking delicious," he says, his voice thick with lust.

He grabs your face with one hand, his claws digging into your cheeks painfully as he forces your eyes to meet his. "Admit it, omega. You want this just as much as I do."

“N-No…!!!” You stutter out in defiance.

The hybrid wolf's grin turns feral at your continued defiance. He loves the taste of your fear and your unwilling arousal, and your refusal to submit only makes him hungrier.

He dives back between your legs, his teeth and tongue attacking your clit with renewed vigor. You try to turn your face away, biting your lip to keep from moaning, but the pressure is too much. His claws dig into the soft flesh of your thighs, holding you in place as he licks and bites with a primal hunger.

"You can't hide it," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. "Your body betrays you."

With a vicious swipe of his tongue, he sends you spiraling over the edge, your body shuddering with an unwanted climax.

The pleasure is intense, as you moan unwittingly loudly, but the humiliation is even stronger.

Tears stream down your cheeks as he laps up your essence, his eyes never leaving yours. "Mmm," he hums, savoring the taste. "You're going to fucking scream for me soon enough."

As the hybrid wolf's tongue continues its relentless assault on your clit, you feel your body responding in ways you never wanted. Your pussy clenches around his tongue, and your hips buck involuntarily as you try to push him away.

But every move you make seems to only excite him more, his licks growing more demanding, his teeth grazing you in a way that's both painful and exhilarating.

Despite your mental resistance, your body is succumbing to the overwhelming pleasure, your walls tightening around his tongue as if begging for more.

You can't help but moan, the sound ripped from your throat as you feel another orgasm building. The alpha wolf's eyes gleam with victory as he sees the effect he's having on you, and he doubles down, his tongue fucking you with a ferocity that has you seeing stars.

You're so close, so close, and you hate yourself for it. "N-no," you murmur, your voice weak and trembling. "Please, stop."

He chuckles darkly, the vibration of his mirth sending more waves of pleasure through your body. "You don't mean that," he says, his breath hot against your swollen, sensitive folds.

"You're just saying that because you don't want to admit how much you crave it." With a final, brutal swipe of his tongue, you cum again jolting and moaning helplessly; before he pulls away abruptly, leaving you gasping and shaking with need.

The hybrid wolf can't help but growl in approval at your body's betrayal, his eyes locked on the glistening wetness of your pussy, now quivering and begging for his touch. He licks his lips, savoring the sweet, musky taste of your arousal.

"Look at you," he murmurs, his voice thick with lust, "Fucking squirting all over me like a good breeding bitch." His eyes darken with possession as he takes in your flushed cheeks and the desperate look in your eyes.

He knows you're close to breaking, and that's just how he loves it.

With a smug grin, he shifts his weight, releasing your legs from his vice-like grip. You try to scurry away, but he's too quick, grabbing you by the ankles and dragging you back towards him.

He flips you onto your stomach, your bruised and scratched body now exposed to the damp, cold earth. "You're going to take me now," he says, his voice a mix of command and promise. "And you're going to love it."

“N-No! Stop! Please!” You scream weakly, fighting back desperately and defiantly.

Your weak screams of protest fall on his deaf ears as the alpha wolf forced you onto your stomach, his strong arms easily overpowering your feeble attempts to escape. The cold, damp earth presses against your skin, making you feel even more vulnerable and exposed.

He straddles you, his heavy bodyweight a stark reminder of his dominance and your helplessness. The sound of him unbuckling his pants is a harsh, jolting reality check, and your heart races as you feel the hot, thick head of his cock pressing against your entrance.

Your squirming and desperate attempts to fight him off only seem to excite the hybrid wolf more. He uses his powerful thighs to spread your legs apart, his cock sliding against your wet, trembling pussy.

Despite your fear, your body is betraying you, lubricating his shaft with your unwilling arousal. His grip on your ankles tightens as he leans over you, his massive body casting a shadow over yours. You can feel his breath against your neck, hot and ragged, as he whispers, "You're going to take all of me, little omega. Every damn inch."

He pushes forward, the head of his cock breaching your tight entrance.

You scream, the pain searing through you like a knife, your nails digging into the soil as you try to find stabilization. "Fuck," he groans, his voice strained with effort. "You're so tight, so fucking tight."

He doesn't pause, continuing to thrust into you, each movement driving the air from your lungs and sending shockwaves of agony through your body. The hybrid wolf's cock stretches you open, the pain of your hymen tearing a white-hot brand across your consciousness. You feel your body clench around him, desperately trying to push him out, but he's unrelenting.

With a savage grin, he slams into you, burying his cock to the hilt with a roar of triumph. The force of his thrusts sends shockwaves of agony through you, and you can't help but sob into the dirt.

Your vision blurs, the world narrowing down to the searing pain between your legs.

"You're mine now," he growls, his teeth nipping at your neck. "You're going to be my good little omega, aren't you?" His grip on your ankles tightens, his nails digging in as he pulls back and slams into you again.

Each thrust feels like a declaration of ownership, a claim that you can't escape.

You can feel your insides stretching to accommodate his monstrous length, your body trying to adjust to the brutal intrusion. Your breath hitches as he hits a spot deep within you, sending a bolt of pleasure-pain that makes you cry out.

You try to push up onto your hands, but the pain is too much, and you collapse back onto the ground. His hips rock against yours, the slap of flesh on flesh echoing through the clearing.

The smell of your blood and arousal fills the air, a potent mix that seems to drive him even wilder. "You're going to love being my omega," he says, his voice a dark promise. "You're going to love the way I fuck you, the way I fill you up with my cum."

The alpha wolf's massive cock continues to pound into you without mercy, your body jolting with every brutal thrust. You can feel him stretching you to your limits, filling you completely and claiming you in the most primal of ways.

His hips slap against your bruised flesh, the sound echoing through the night like a twisted mating call.

He's not just fucking you; he's marking you, branding you as his property.

Your own desperate cries are muffled by the dirt as you try to scream through the pain, your voice hoarse from the effort.

"You're mine," he repeats, his voice a deep growl that sends shivers down your spine. "Fucking MINE." He bites down hard on the back of your neck, his teeth piercing the tender skin.

You can feel the warmth of your own blood mixing with the sticky sweat coating your body.

It's a claim, a promise of what's to come.

The pain is so intense that it's almost a relief when the initial agony of your lost virginity fades into a dull, persistent throb.

He's not gentle, not even a little.

His thrusts are deep and powerful, a relentless battering ram against your slick, abused walls. You're not sure if you're crying or if it's just the sweat and tears mixing on your face, but you know you can't keep fighting.

Your body feels like it's being torn apart, and every time he hits that spot deep inside you, you feel a strange mix of pain and something else… something that you hate admitting could be pleasure.

"P-Please," you manage to gasp out, your voice a broken whisper. "P-Please, it h-hurts."

He laughs darkly, his breath hot against your neck. "Good," he says, his hips moving faster. "It's supposed to fucking hurt. It's supposed to remind you of who's in charge."

His teeth graze your skin, and you can feel his knot swelling at the base of his cock, preparing to claim you in the most primal way possible.

As you lay there, sobbing into the cold, unforgiving earth, the hybrid wolf's hips piston into you without mercy. His teeth are still latched onto the back of your neck, his knot swelling with every brutal thrust. You feel his dominance in every inch of your being, a stark, painful reminder that you are utterly at his mercy.

Your body shakes with the effort to withstand his relentless assault, each thrust driving his knot further into you, stretching you to the point of agony.

The alpha wolf's knot swells further, reaching its full size, and lodges itself inside you, effectively trapping him within your body.

You feel a new level of fullness, a pressure that makes you gasp and whine, your body trying to reject the unyielding intrusion.

His movements become more erratic, his growls deeper as he starts to lose control, his hips slamming into you without rhythm or care. "Take it," he snarls, his voice a feral rumble. "Take every fucking inch."

Your own voice is lost in a sob as you feel his knot expanding even further, the pain a white-hot brand across your consciousness.

Your body tenses around him, trying to force him out, but it's a futile effort.

His grip on your ankles tightens, his nails digging deeper into your flesh as he starts to fuck you harder, his knot moving within you, the sensation a mix of agony and something else. Something that makes your body respond despite your mind's screaming protests.

"You're mine," he says again, his voice a harsh growl. "My omega, my wife." His thrusts become erratic, his breaths coming in pants as he starts to lose control.

You can feel the warmth of his seed building, his cock pulsing within you. "You're going to take it," he says, his teeth pressing down on your neck. "You're going to take every drop of my cum, and you're going to love it."

You whimper, your body trembling under the onslaught of pain and unwanted pleasure. The knot inside you is unbearable, stretching you further than you ever thought possible. You can't move, can't do anything but endure as he takes his fill of you, your body his plaything.

His hips slam into your bruised ass, the force of his thrusts making you see stars. "Yes," he hisses, his grip on your ankles tightening. "You're going to milk me dry."

You feel his knot swell even more, the pressure unbearable, and you know what's coming. He's going to fill you with his cum, claiming you in the most primal, irrevocable way. You try to fight, to push him away, but your body is too weak, too used.

Your sobs become screams as he starts to cum, his hot seed flooding your insides, filling you up until you can't take it anymore. His teeth dig into your neck, holding you in place as he marks you, his orgasm a violent, possessive act that leaves you shaking.

The alpha wolf's hips slow, his cock still pulsing inside you. He pulls out slightly, only to push back in, his knot keeping him connected to you.

The feeling is agonizing, but you can't help the way your body responds, your pussy clenching around him, milking him dry. He groans with pleasure, his hips bucking against you as he empties himself into you. "That's it," he murmurs, his voice a dark, sated growl. "Good little omega."

As he cums, you feel something within you shift. The pain is still there, but it's overlaid with a strange, primal need.

Your body seems to crave his seed, your walls tightening around him as if trying to keep him inside you.

It's as if your body knows what he's done, that he's marked you as his, and it's trying to accept it, to submit to his dominance.

You hate yourself for it, but the feeling is undeniable.

He pulls out of you with a wet pop, his knot shrinking until it's no longer lodged inside you. You collapse onto the ground, your body trembling with exhaustion and the aftershocks of your forced climax.

The alpha wolf stands over you, his cock still hard and gleaming with your blood and combined juices. He licks his lips, his eyes never leaving yours. "Look at the mess you've made," he says, his voice filled with dark amusement. "You're going to clean me up, aren't you?"

────────────

But, then the alpha wolf's eyes narrow as he watches you pathetically try to crawl away, your body trembling from the intense pain and pleasure of his rough claiming.

His patience wears thin at your continuous refusal to submit, his lip curling in a snarl.

He strides towards you, his massive form casting a shadow that makes you feel even smaller and more vulnerable.

You try to scuttle away faster, your legs shaking with the effort, but your weakened state only makes your escape attempts more pitiful.

"Where do you think you're going?" he snarls, his voice a low, menacing rumble that sends shivers down your spine.

He grabs you by the scruff of your neck, his grip firm yet gentle in comparison to his earlier brutality. "You're mine now, little omega. There's no running from that."

His eyes are filled with a mix of anger and hurt, his pupils dilated with desire. He shakes his head, the disappointment in his gaze almost as painful as his earlier bites. "I didn't expect you to be this stubborn," he murmurs, almost to himself.

You whimper, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own ragged breathing. Your body aches from his rough handling, but a part of you can't deny the strange, dark thrill that runs through you at his words.

"Please," you croak out, your voice hoarse from your earlier screams. "Let me go."

He tilts his head to the side, studying you with a predatory gaze. "Why should I?" he asks, his voice deceptively calm.

"You're mine now. You've felt what I can do to you. Why would you want to leave?" He runs a claw lightly down your spine, the threat implicit in the gesture. You shiver, your body responding despite your fear.

"I don't…I don't want this," you whisper, your voice trembling. "Please, let me go."

The alpha hybrid wolf's grip on your neck tightens for a brief moment before releasing you entirely. He steps back, watching you with a cold, calculating gaze. "You think you can just walk away?" he sneers.

"You're mine now. You're going to bear my pups, and you're going to do it willingly." His eyes flash with a dangerous intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. "If you keep fighting me, I'll just have to get more creative with your punishments."

You manage to push yourself onto your hands and knees, your body still shaking from the overwhelming pain and humiliation.

You spit dirt out of your mouth and look up at him, your true inner will finally bursting out in frustration, your eyes full of defiance despite the tears that stain your cheeks. "I'll never be yours, you damn bastard rapist," you hiss through gritted teeth. "Never."

The hybrid wolf's expression darkens, his eyes narrowing to slits. "We'll see about that," he says, his voice low and dangerous.

He takes a step closer, and you can't help but flinch, your body instinctively remembering the pain he's capable of inflicting. "You're going to learn your place, little omega. And when you do, you'll beg for my cock."

────────────

As you manage to stumble to your feet, the alpha wolf watches you with a predatory gaze, his eyes tracking your every movement. He seems to revel in the power he holds over you, his chest heaving with each breath as if your fear and pain are a sweet scent that fuels his arousal.

With a wicked smile, he steps aside, allowing you to run, his tail flicking in anticipation of the chase.

The alpha wolf's smile widens into a full-blown grin as he watches you limp away, your bruised and bloodied body a testament to his dominance. "Run, little omega," he says, his voice a dark promise. "But remember, I'll be waiting for you. And when I catch you again, I'll fuck you until you can't ever fucking walk again."

You stumble through the underbrush, the pain of his knotting still resonating through your body.

You're not sure how much more of this you can take, but you know you can't just give up. You have to find a way out of this nightmare, a way to escape him and his twisted games.

The forest blurs around you, the pain and fear clouding your vision. You don't know where you're going, only that you have to get away.

The hybrid wolf watches you go, his smile never leaving his face. He knows you won't get far, not in your current state. He's toyed with you enough to know your limits, to know how much you can handle before you break.

But he also knows that the chase is part of the thrill, the anticipation of the hunt making the eventual capture all the more satisfying.

He lets you run, his eyes gleaming with a sadistic glee as he watches the desperation in your movements.

You stumble through the underbrush, your legs wobbly from the rough treatment he's just given you. You're not a fast runner, not with the pain radiating from your torn hymen and the heavy weight of his cum filling you.

But you force yourself to go on, driven by a primal need to escape the monster that's claimed you.

Twigs snap beneath your feet, leaves crunching as you push yourself harder, ignoring the sting of your bruised flesh against the rough ground.

Behind you, the alpha wolf laughs, the sound echoing through the trees like a dark promise.

You know he's not really letting you go; he's just enjoying the thrill of the chase.

His powerful form moves with an eerie grace, his eyes locked on yours, a twisted smile playing across his face. The thought of what he'll do to you when he catches you sends a fresh wave of terror through your body, and you push yourself to go faster.

You stumble through the forest, the pain in your legs growing with each step. Your heart races in your chest, the fear of his pursuit driving you forward even as your body screams for rest.

The moon casts a silver glow through the canopy, lighting your path but also making you feel more exposed.

You can hear the rustle of leaves as he stalks you, his movements deliberate and calculated.

He's enjoying this, you realize with a sickening feeling in your stomach.

He's enjoying making you run.

The alpha hybrid wolf's laughter echoes through the trees, a taunting, predatory sound that sends a chill down your spine. "You can't escape me, little omega," he calls out, his voice deep and resonant. "Wherever you go, I'll find you."

The words are a promise, one that fills you with dread. You know he's not lying; he's a creature of the hunt, and you're his prey.

You push yourself harder, your lungs burning and your legs aching. Your senses are heightened, every sound in the forest a potential threat.

You can feel his presence behind you, a looming shadow that seems to grow closer with each passing second. "Faster," he says, his voice a whisper in the wind. "Or I'll just have to drag you back, kicking and screaming."

You whip around, your eyes wild with fear. The hybrid wolf is closer than you thought, his teeth bared in a feral smile.

You can see the hunger in his gaze, the need to claim and possess you. "You can't do this," you choke out, your voice barely more than a whisper. "I won't be your omega, I won't let you do this to me."

"You don't have a choice," he says, his voice cold and final. He stalks closer, his eyes gleaming with a dark light that makes your heart race. "You're mine now, and I'll fuck you whenever I want. And you’ll just have to damn well take it, you stubborn bitch.”

His words are a promise, one that sends a shiver of dread through your body.

You stumble back, trying to put more distance between you, but your legs are wobbly, your body still reeling from his earlier assault.

He doesn't give you the chance to run again.

With a snarl, he lunges, his powerful body moving with the grace of a predator.

You scream, your voice raw from your earlier cries, and try to dart away, but he's too fast. His massive hands land on your shoulders, pushing you to the ground. "Struggle all you want," he growls, his breath hot against your ear. "It'll just make it better."

You squirm beneath him, your body slick with sweat and tears. His weight is a crushing presence, a reminder of the brutal reality of your situation. "Please," you whimper, your voice shaking. "P-Please stop, no more, p-please."

The alpha hybrid wolf chuckles darkly, his breath hot against your ear. "What's the matter, little omega?" he asks, his voice mocking.

"Can't handle your new life?" His claws dig into your shoulders, his grip unyielding. "You should have thought of that before you decided to play hard to get."

You try to buck him off, to kick and claw, but your body feels like it's made of lead, and his weight is too much for you to bear.

You feel his cock, still hard and slick with your blood and cum, pressing against your thigh, a constant reminder of his dominance. "Get off me," you snarl weakly, trying to push him away. "I'm not your plaything."

He laughs, the sound a low, dark rumble that sends shivers down your spine. "Oh, but you are," he says, his voice dripping with malice. "And I'm going to enjoy breaking you in."

His teeth graze the shell of your ear, his tongue flicking out to taste your fear. "You're going to beg for it, you know," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. "You're going to beg for me to fill you up and make you scream my name."

You grit your teeth, trying to ignore the unwelcome spark of arousal his words stir in you. "Never," you spit out, your voice laced with defiance.

The alpha wolf's eyes flash with anger, his grip tightening on your shoulders. "We'll see about that," he growls, his teeth grazing your neck as he pins you down.

You can feel his cock, still rock-hard and slick with your blood and cum, pressing insistently against your thigh. His knot starts to swell again, a sign that he's not yet done with you.

"No," you whimper, your voice shaking with fear and exhaustion. "I won't let you."

His teeth find your neck again, and you feel the sharp pain as he bites down, claiming you once more with a possessive growl. Your body tenses, your weak struggles doing nothing to deter him as he lines his thick, swollen cock up with your sore, bloodied entrance.

You can feel the beginnings of his knot swelling at the base, the promise of another agonizing mating session that you know you won't be able to resist.

Your weakened attempts to fight back only seem to excite the alpha hybrid wolf more, his eyes gleaming with a mix of anger and lust. His teeth sink deeper into your neck, holding you in place as he starts to push his cock inside you again.

You feel the pressure building as his knot swells, the pain of his previous claim still fresh in your mind. You try to buck your hips, to twist away from him, but his weight and strength are too much.

The hybrid wolf's response to your increased struggle is to kiss you hard and without mercy, his teeth grazing your lower lip as he takes your mouth in a punishing, possessive kiss. His tongue invades your mouth, tasting your fear and the coppery tang of your blood, a flavor that only seems to inflame his desire further.

His kiss is a claim of ownership, a declaration that you belong to him and no other.

You feel his cock, still slick with the evidence of his previous claim, push against your entrance, the swollen knot at its base a constant, painful reminder of the fate that awaits you.

You try to bite his tongue, to push him away with every ounce of strength you have left, but it's like trying to fight a hurricane with a single leaf. He's unyielding, his mouth moving over yours in a violent dance that leaves you breathless and dizzy.

His grip on your shoulders tightens, his hands digging into your flesh as he uses his superior strength to hold you in place.

You feel the tip of his cock breach you once again, the pain sharp and immediate, making you cry out against his mouth.

The alpha wolf's kiss is brutal, his teeth scraping against your lips as he takes what he wants without regard for your protests. His tongue fills your mouth, tasting the desperation and the faint sweetness of your fear.

His cock slams into you, the swollen knot at the base stretching you wider than you ever thought possible, making you scream into his mouth. Your body fights against his intrusion, your muscles clenching around his thick length as you try to push him out, but his strength is overwhelming.

He pulls away, panting heavily, his eyes never leaving yours. "You're going to learn to love it," he says, his voice a low growl. "You're going to crave the feel of me inside you, marking you, claiming you."

He pushes into you again, his hips moving in a punishing rhythm that makes you cry out with every thrust. You can feel his knot swelling, the pressure unbearable as he forces his way deeper and deeper.

You thrash beneath him, your nails digging into the dirt as you try to find anything to help you, to push him away. But his weight is too much, his strength too overwhelming. "Stop," you gasp, your voice breaking on the word. "Please, stop!"

He chuckles darkly, his breath hot on your face. "You're so pathetic," he sneers, his thrusts becoming more punishing. "Begging for it already."

The alpha wolf's cruel chuckle fills the air as he drives into you, his knot stretching you to the limits of endurance.

Despite the pain, your body starts to betray you again, responding to his rough treatment with unwanted arousal.

Each punishing thrust sends a jolt of pleasure through your abused body, and you feel your walls clench around him, trying in vain to push him out.

He seems to sense your struggle, his eyes darkening with satisfaction as he leans in closer, his teeth nipping at your ear.

"That's it," he murmurs, his voice a low, seductive growl. "Take it, you stubborn bitch. Take all of me." His hips move faster, his cock pistoning in and out of you with a brutal efficiency that leaves you gasping.

You can't help but whimper, your body trembling with the effort of resisting the building pleasure. "You're going to cum for me," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. "You're going to scream my name as I fill you up."

You want to fight it, you want to keep your dignity intact, but your body has a mind of its own. The hybrid wolf's relentless assault sends waves of pleasure crashing over you, each thrust pushing you closer and closer to the edge. "No," you moan, the word torn from your lips despite your best efforts. "I won't…I won't…ahh…"

He chuckles again, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "Yes, you will," he says, his voice filled with dark amusement. "You can't help it, can you? Your body knows what it needs." His hands move to your hips, his claws digging in as he pulls you into his thrusts, each one more powerful than the last.

You whine, trying to deny the building climax, but your body has its own agenda. Your hips buck up to meet him, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through your bruised core.

He's right; you can't fight it, not when he's so deep inside you, not when his knot is swelling and demanding your submission. You feel the first spasm of your orgasm, your muscles clenching around his cock, and he grunts in satisfaction.

"There it is," he murmurs, his voice a dark purr that sends shivers down your spine. "Give in to it, little omega. Let me feel you cum around me." His thrusts grow more erratic, his knot swelling to a terrifying size.

You can't hold back the scream that rips from your throat as your climax hits you like a storm, your body writhing beneath him. He takes advantage of your weakened state, slamming into you harder, the knot stretching you further than you thought possible.

The pleasure is unbearable, your body a live wire of sensation as he takes you over the edge.

But amidst the waves of ecstasy, you feel a sharp, searing pain as your leg gives way beneath his weight.

You scream in agony, the sound muffled by his mouth as he kisses you roughly, swallowing your cries.

"Mine," he snarls, his teeth digging into your neck. You feel his cock pulse inside you, filling you with his seed, claiming you once again.

Your body convulses around him, the pain in your lower body mixing with the agony of his brutal mating.

"You…you monster," you whimper, tears streaming down your face as your body continues to spasm around his knot.

The pain in your leg is like nothing you've ever felt before, a white-hot agony that sends shockwaves through your body.

You try to kick him off, to fight back with every ounce of strength you have left, but the pain is too much. You're trapped beneath him, his knot swollen and lodged deep inside you, his seed filling you up and marking you as his property.

After riding out your orgasm, the alpha wolf pulls out of you with a smug smile, his cock still hard and gleaming with your blood and cum.

He looks down at your broken leg, the bone jutting out at an unnatural angle, and his eyes flash with a twisted kind of satisfaction. "Looks like you'll be staying put," he says, his voice a dark purr. "It's for the best, really. Less running around for you to do."

You whimper, the pain making it hard to focus, to think. "W-Why are you doing this?" you ask, your voice shaking. "What do you want from me?"

The alpha hybrid wolf's smile widens, his eyes cold. "Everything," he says, his voice a dark whisper. "I want everything you have to give, and then some."

He runs a hand down your side, his claws lightly scoring your flesh. You flinch, but he doesn't stop, his touch a sadistic caress that makes your skin crawl. "I want you to submit, to beg for my cock, to crave my touch."

His voice is low, hypnotic, and for a moment, you almost believe you could want that.

────────────

The alpha wolf's cold, sadistic gaze locks onto your trembling form as he pulls out a set of long piano strings, the metal glinting menacingly in the moonlight.

You watch in horror as he wraps them around your uninjured leg, his eyes never leaving yours. The strings bite into your skin, the tension palpable as he tightens them, his teeth bared in a feral smile.

You try to kick him away, but the pain in your broken leg sends shockwaves through your body, leaving you incapacitated.

The alpha wolf's eyes gleam with excitement as he tightens the piano strings around your leg, the metal biting into your flesh with a cruel precision.

You scream in agony, the pain from your broken leg now eclipsed by the new torment.

He's not destroying it yet, but the threat is clear in his sadistic smile. He enjoys watching you squirm, your fear and pain only serving to fuel his lust.

"Please," you beg, your voice breaking. "Please, don't do this."

The alpha wolf's smile only widens as he tightens the strings further, watching as the color drains from your face. "Why do you keep fighting?" he asks, his tone mocking. "You're only making it worse for yourself."

Through gritted teeth, you manage to spit out through the tears, "Because I'm not your omega." Despite the pain, a small part of your spirit remains unbroken, the fire in your eyes a silent challenge.

The hybrid wolf's chuckle sends a cold shiver down your spine as he tightens the piano strings around your uninjured leg.

The pain is unbearable, your body writhing in agony as the metal digs into your flesh. You feel the warm trickle of blood start to run down your leg, the reality of his plan sinking in with a sickening thud. The strings are cutting through your skin, the tension building until you can feel the bone of your femur grinding against them.

Each twist of his hands sends a fresh wave of pain through you, and you can't help but cry out, your voice hoarse from your previous screams.

The alpha wolf leans in closer, his teeth bared in a sadistic grin as he whispers, "Let's see how much of a fighter you really are, my little omega."

With a sickening twist of his paws, the piano strings tighten, biting deeper into your flesh.

The pain is unimaginable, the strings cutting through your skin and muscles, the bone of your leg feeling as if it's about to snap.

You scream, the sound raw and animalistic, as you feel the strings slice through the last of your resistance.

"Good," he murmurs, his eyes gleaming with perverse pleasure. "Scream for me, show me how much you hate it. Show me how much you're going to fight me every step of the way."

The alpha hybrid wolf's chuckles echo through the forest, sending a cold shiver down your spine. "I knew you'd be a fighter," he says, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "But that's what makes it all the more satisfying when you finally break."

He leans in closer, his hot breath against your face as he whispers, "And you will break, little omega. You'll beg me to keep you, to never leave you."

With a final twist of the piano strings, you feel the bone in your leg give way with a sickening crunch.

The pain is so intense, you're sure you're going to pass out, but somehow, you remain conscious, your eyes locked on his.

The alpha wolf's twisted smile widens as he watches the pain etched into your face, the strings tightening until the bone in your leg snaps with an audible crack.

You scream in agony, your body arching off the ground as much as his hold on you allows.

The pain is so intense, it feels as though your entire world has been reduced to the burning, searing heat of the strings digging into your flesh. He releases the tension slightly, watching as the blood starts to pool around the wound, the muscles in your leg quivering with the effort to stay attached to the bone.

"See?" he says, his voice a dark purr. "No more running for you. Now you're just where I want you, exactly how I want you."

He leans in closer, his hot breath fanning over your face, his teeth grazing your cheek. "But don't worry," he whispers, "I'll make sure you're taken care of. After all, you're my prize."

His hands move to stroke your side, his claws lightly grazing your skin. The gentleness of his touch is a stark contrast to the cruelty of his words, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

The alpha wolf's hands move with a cruel precision, tightening the piano strings once more. You feel the unbearable pressure build, the strings digging into your flesh like serrated knives. Your screams fill the forest, a desperate, primal sound that seems to echo off the very trees themselves.

You're not just begging now; you're pleading with everything you have, your voice hoarse from the screams that have torn from your throat. "P-Please," you sob, "please don't do this. I'll do anything, I'll be whatever you want me to be."

The hybrid wolf's smile widens, his eyes gleaming with triumph. "There it is," he says, his voice a low, satisfied rumble. "The sweet sound of submission."

He doesn't loosen the strings immediately, though; instead, he lets you squirm and beg for a few more moments, savoring the power he holds over you.

"Beg for it," he says, his voice a low growl. "Beg me not to take your other leg. Show me you're truly mine."

Trembling, you force the words out through your tears. "Please, I'm sorry, I'll submit, I'll be your omega, I won't fight you anymore, just don't take my leg, I'll do anything…" The words tumble out of you in a rush, each one a painful admission of defeat.

The alpha wolf's eyes narrow, considering your plea. He releases the strings slightly, the pressure on your leg easing just enough for you to draw in a shaky breath. "Anything?" he asks, his voice a low purr that sends a shiver down your spine.

You nod frantically, tears streaming down your face. "Anything," you repeat, your voice a broken whisper. "Just don't do this."

He tightens the strings once more, the pressure building until you can feel the bone in your leg starting to give way. You scream, your body jerking in a desperate attempt to escape the inevitable.

He chuckles, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "Don't worry," he says, his voice soothing despite the horror of the situation. "I'll take good care of you. You'll be my little pet, my personal fucktoy to use whenever I please."

He leans in closer, his breath hot on your face, his eyes glinting with malicious intent. "And maybe, just maybe, if you're a very good girl, I'll let you keep that pretty little pussy of yours."

You whimper, the pain in your leg unbearable as you feel the strings begin to saw through the last of your resistance. Your mind is a whirlwind of fear and desperation, and you know that you've lost. "Please," you whisper, your voice trembling. "I-I'll be good, I'll do anything!"

The alpha hybrid wolf leans in closer, his breath warm against your cheek as he considers your words. "Prove it," he says, his voice a low growl that sends a shiver down your spine. He loosens his grip on the strings slightly, the pressure on your leg easing just enough to let you breathe. "Tell me you're mine," he demands.

You swallow hard, the words sticking in your throat like bile. But the pain is too great, and the fear of losing your leg too intense. "I'm yours," you whisper, the words a painful concession. "I'll do whatever you want."

The alpha hybrid wolf's eyes flicker with something that might almost be respect, but it's quickly overshadowed by his dominance. "That's better," he murmurs, his voice a dark caress. He loosens the strings a bit more, the pressure on your leg lessening slightly. "Now," he says, "tell me you want me to fuck you."

You can't believe the words are coming out of your mouth, but the alternative is too terrifying to consider. "I…I want you," you force out, your voice shaking. "I want you to fuck me."

The alpha hybrid wolf's smile broadens, his eyes gleaming with triumph. "That's what I like to hear," he murmurs, his hands moving to gently stroke the side of your face, the claws retracted.

His touch is surprisingly tender, a stark contrast to the brutality that came before. He releases the strings completely, and you feel the weight of his decision as the pain in your leg recedes to a dull throb.

The alpha wolf's kiss is like a brand, searing into your very soul and leaving no doubt of your newfound status.

His tongue invades your mouth, tasting your fear and desperation, and yet there's something darkly thrilling about the way he claims you, something that makes your heart race despite the pain and horror.

You can feel his cock, still hard and slick with your blood, pressing against you, demanding entry.

Your body reacts traitorously, your arousal spiking even as you bleed out, the pain and fear mixing in a toxic cocktail that somehow only makes the situation more intense.

He pulls back, his eyes dark with lust and power as he looks down at you. "You're mine now," he says, his voice a low growl. "Say it."

You whimper, the pain from your broken legs making it difficult to form coherent thoughts. "Y-yes," you choke out. "I'm yours."

You scream as he starts to thrust into you again, biting your shoulder without mercy, his knot swelling and forcing your shattered body to accommodate his brutal claim. Each movement sends bolts of agony through your legs, but you're too far gone to do anything but take it, your mind a haze of pain and submission.

He fucks you like an animal, his hips slamming into yours with a sickening wet sound that echoes through the forest. You can feel your body trying to fight back, but it's no match for his strength and dominance. The taste of blood is thick in the air, a testament to the brutality of his mating. His teeth dig deeper into your flesh, and you know that the marks he's leaving will never fully heal.

Your cries of pain are muffled by his mouth, his tongue invading yours in a twisted parody of affection as he continues to pound into you. Each thrust sends waves of agony through your body, your legs useless and forgotten beneath you. You can't even feel the pain anymore, it's just a part of you, a constant reminder of your new reality.

As you lay there, the hybrid wolf's teeth still embedded in your shoulder, the pain from your legs is a constant throb, but it's almost as if your body is trying to adapt to the new reality it's been thrust into.

Each thrust of his cock feels like a hot iron poker being pushed into your core, the pain and pleasure mixing until you can't tell the difference anymore. Your body betrays you, your walls clenching around him, trying to keep him inside you despite the horror of what's happening.

He releases your shoulder with a wet pop, the blood from the wound mixing with the fluids already coating your skin. "You're so tight," he murmurs, his voice a gruff growl. "So fucking tight, even with all the damage I've done to you." His eyes bore into yours, a challenge and a question in their depths. "Do you like it when I hurt you?"

The question hangs in the air, a silent demand for your truth. Your body is a wreck, your mind a tornado of agony and submission, but somehow, you find the strength to nod. The words come out as a whimper, barely audible. "Yes," you admit, your voice trembling. "I do."

The alpha wolf's hand snaps back, the slap echoing through the clearing like a gunshot.

Your cheek burns with the force of his blow, the impact sending your head spinning and your vision blurring with tears. The sting of his hand is a stark contrast to the burning agony in your legs, a reminder that your submission isn't enough to satisfy his twisted desires.

"Don't lie to me," he snarls, his voice a low, menacing rumble. "I can smell it on you, the scent of fear and pain. Tell me the truth."

You whimper, trying to gather your thoughts through the fog of pain and submission. "I…I do," you repeat, your voice shaking. "It's what you want, isn't it?"

The alpha wolf's eyes narrow, his grip on you tightening. "What I want," he says slowly, "is for you to be honest. To admit that you love the way I make you feel, that you crave the pain and the fear. That you need me to own you completely."

He leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "But I know you're a damn liar, my sweet omega. I can see it in your eyes. You're fighting me even now."

The hybrid wolf's grip on the piano strings tightens, his hands moving with a sickening precision that sends a fresh wave of terror through you.

You can feel the strings cutting deeper into your leg, the pain so intense it steals your breath away.

With a final, brutal twist, the strings snap tight, and you feel a white-hot agony as your left leg is severed completely. The blood spurts in a crimson arc, painting the leaves and soil a gruesome shade of red.

You scream in wailing agony, the sound echoing through the forest, a haunting melody of pain and despair.

Your vision swims, the world turning to a kaleidoscope of colors as the pain overwhelms your senses. The ground beneath you feels cold and foreign as your body tries to comprehend the sudden loss of a limb.

The alpha wolf pulls away, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure as he watches you writhe in pain. "Look at what you've made me do," he murmurs, his voice a dark purr. "You've only got yourself to blame for this." His hands come up to wipe the blood from your face, his touch almost gentle, a stark contrast to the horror he's just inflicted upon you.

The alpha wolf's thrusts become even more brutal as he watches the pain and despair play out on your face.

You can feel your body giving in, your consciousness fading as the agony of your amputated leg combines with the overwhelming pressure of his knot inside you.

Each time he pulls out, it's like he's ripping out your soul along with his cock, only to shove it back in with a viciousness that sends shockwaves of agony through your body.

The smell of blood and sex is thick in the air, a heady perfume that seems to drive him to even greater heights of depravity.

Your cries become weaker and weaker, until finally, the world goes dark.

You're not sure if it's the pain or the blood loss, but everything around you fades away, leaving only the pounding of his hips against your mutilated body.

And yet, even as you slip into unconsciousness, you can feel his knot swelling, his seed filling you up. It's a final, vicious reminder of your new role in his life—his pet, his toy, his breeding omega.

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The alpha wolf chuckles darkly as you lose consciousness beneath him, your body limp and broken. He leans in, pressing a sweet kiss to your bloodstained lips, his tongue delving into your mouth to claim one last victory.

His love is a twisted, possessive thing, a perversion of the bond that should have been gentle and consensual.

But as he whispers the words into your unhearing ear, his hips never stop moving, his cock never leaving your torn, abused hole.

Each thrust is a declaration of his dominance, a promise that you will never escape his grasp.

You're vaguely aware of his words, a faint murmur against your skin. "Mine," he repeats, his voice a low growl of triumph. "You're mine now, my beautiful omega. You can't run from me anymore."

His hands roam over your body, his claws tracing delicate patterns in your skin that make you shiver in your unconscious state despite the agony. "I'll take care of you," he says, his voice soothing despite the horror of his actions. "I'll make sure you never want for anything—except for my cock, filling you up, making you scream."

The alpha wolf's hips continue to piston into your unresponsive body, his knot still swollen and embedded deep within you. The warmth of your blood coats your thighs and your skin, painting a gruesome picture of his brutal claim.

Despite your unconsciousness, your body continues to react to him, your walls spasming around his cock, a reflexive response to the pain and the presence of his seed. His movements are relentless, a testament to his desire to fully dominate and claim you.

Each thrust sends waves of pain through your body, a stark reminder of the power dynamics at play in this twisted mating dance.

With a final, triumphant snarl, the alpha hybrid wolf releases his knot, filling you with his cum one last time before withdrawing completely. He stands over you, his cock glistening with your blood and his own seed.

He looks down at your amputated leg with a twisted sense of satisfaction, the crimson stump a testament to his dominance. "We'll see if you're worthy of having this back," he murmurs, his eyes gleaming with malicious intent. "But for now, you're exactly where you need to be—under me, bleeding for me."