#hinted little red x big bad wolf

[lantanasmuttyfanfics]

evil queen x Good king one?

Because there was no specification I hope you don’t mind that it’s smutty.

But none the less I hope you enjoy!!

Anyway I’m sorry for the long wait and I promise that for the other commissioners that their fic is coming out soon 

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People liked thronecoming for different reasons. For some it was to raise their status and fame, for other it was for a fun night, and for people like her it was to create mayhem.

It was the perfect plan that very surprisingly little red riding hood out of all people decided to help with. The evil queen wanted to steal the storybook of legends for the fun of it, little red wanted to steal it for her and her lovers sake.

There were only a handful of people who knew that little red was fucking the big bad wolf and because they were supposed to be enemies if anyone found out that they were dating, who knew what would happen.

So little red’s solution? Steal the story book of legends and replace it with a fake. When the evil queen heard of the girls plans she was quick to elope her in her own schemes.

So here they were now in their dorm as the clock struck 12am. The evil queen had placed a barrier around the room so no one could come in without their permission as they now tried to figure out where to hide the book.

Their original idea of throwing it down the well of wonder was scrapped quickly as the map that was to lead them there had suddenly disappeared.

“What if we store it the dungeons?” The evil queen rolled her eyes as she paced, groaning as her gowns skirt got stuck under a lose floorboard.

“The dungeon? Red seriously someone is going to find it in a snap.” She sighed as he tugged again at her gowns skirt that wouldn’t release.

Red peaked at the clock that was ticking by ever so slowly. “Well we have to hurry up. The guys will be here soon to pick us up.” The evil queen despite herself felt warmth fill her as she thought of him.

“Oh curse this stupid fucking floorboard!” She raised a hand and blasted the floor so roughly that the board flew of.

As it did both girls gasped as they saw the empty compartment like space in there. Smirking she turned to look at Red who was starting to sweat with anxiety.

“Oh this was a bad idea. What was I thinking it’s not like I can ever get the happily ever after I want.” The evil queen paused and turned to look at her roommate.

She kneeled down and put a hand on the book, “but you can. Just give me the book and I’ll put it in that compartment and cast a spell so it’s concealed in the floor.”

Red was about to answer when a knock on their door rang about. Both girls heads snapped in that direction as the voice of the good king rang out.

“Red? Sweetheart? Are guys still in there.” In her panic Red dropped the book with a loud bang and quickly moved out the way as the evil queen grabbed the book.

“Hello? Girls open the door.” The evil queen sighed and hastily threw the book in the hole before putting the board on top and starting to chant a spell under her breath.

Purple light illuminated the room as the spell fell into place and the floorboard merged into one with the others. “Red! The rug.”

Red quickly started to smooth the rug on top of the floorboard as the evil queen lifted the spell she put on the room and greeted the good king with a devious smile.

“Sorry baby. Red needed a little help with her umm makeup.” To distract him from looking she placed a palm on his chest and ran her pointy nail down his chest.

He shuddered at the feeling and was quick to grab her hips as he cleared his throat. He was gazing at her with such intensity as the evil queen led them inside.

“Oh umm Red- I uhh you know he’s umm looking for you.” He gulped as he tried to focus on his words while his queen played with the zipper of his pants.

He didn’t notice as Red left without a second look or how the evil queen gave the girl a smirk as she fixed a turned over corner of the rug with her foot.

“You look so good in purple.” She whispered bringing her lips to his ear as his hands tightened on her hips.

And as she looked at him with a seductive siren look in her eyes he felt all blood rush from his head to his dick so quickly that he was lightheaded for a second. “Could say the same thing about you.” The evil queen pretended to swoon as she pushed him roughly on the bed.

“You could. But my mouth would be to preoccupied to thank you.” He raised a brow at her words as she suddenly got on her knees in front of him and started to massage his thighs. Biting his lip, the good king grabbed the bed sheets in a fist as he made an effort not to push her head on him.

But the evil queen grabbed one of his hands and brought his index finger in her mouth, she swirled her tongue and sucked roughly her eyes never leaving his own.

As saliva dribbled down her chin he was quick to wipe it before she pulled his finger out of her mouth and sucked the remaining saliva as she started to fiddle with his zipper. “Just a little preview before the show.”

The good king groaned and threw his head back as one of her nails trailed around the base of his dick as the evil queen pulled his pants down his thighs. Knowing that he was already rock hard she leaned in and placed an open mouthed kiss on his mouth before she pulled his pants the rest of the way.

Without breaking eye contact, she stuck her tongue out and slowly circled the head before pulling him deeper into her mouth. He grunted and bucked his hips, his hands wrapping around her hair as he pushed her head down.

The evil queen let him and felt the head hit the back of her throat, she waved a hand as he tried to push her head again and a whisp of purple smoke grabbed his hands and brought them behind his back. Now that he was restrained and pulled his dick out of her mouth with a pop.

Enjoying his whine as he sweated and looked at her with confused eyes. She only smirked and pushed him down so he was laying down on the bed, the good king let out a surprised yelp before lust clouded his mind watching his girlfriends strip tease him.

She started with the straps of her dress, slowly pulling them down before her breasts popped out of their confines. She didn’t continue tho, instead climbing ontop of him as she grinded with her covered heat on his dick.

He moaned and threw his head back, wishing nothing more then to just grab her. But it seemed she had other plans for him, the evil queen started to grind against him biting her lip to contain the sounds before she planted her hands on his chest and ripped his shirt down the middle, licking her lips at the sight.

“Fuck sweetheart!” She could feel his need pulsing against her with the little jerks his hips gave when she collided down on him. She knew how desperate he was but she was having so much fun teasing the daylights out of him.

With her mind made up she started stripping her dress of again, this time pushing it to her hips and she ran her hands down her chest and stomach. She fondeled with her own breasts letting him hear her pleasure as she peered down at him from ontop letting her eyes glow in the way that drove him mad.

She continued to tease him and fondle with her breasts for a few more minutes before the lust building inside her was becoming to much bare. She needed that release and by looking at the good king he looked like he was about to pop a vein.

Sliding down the rest of her dress, she was now left with only her crown and heels. She was about to take the of when the good king husked out, “keep them on…” he really was going insane just by how fucking hot and delicious his girlfriend looked dressed in nothing but her crown and heels.

Sliding down her hand, she grabbed his underwear tightly before she ripped it of with a wave of her finger. His pants came of soon after and she was left staring at his hard dick that was red and pulsing from lust.

Leaning down she made him look her in the eye before she finally sunk in. They both let out their screams and moans as the evil queen pushed down on his length until she thought she felt him in her stomach.

Graining he attacked her neck with his lips as he sucked at her skin, making sure to leave little bruises behind that he knew she wouldn’t hide. With both the stimulation coming from the good kings sucking at her neck and his dick deep inside her, the evil queen felt this fullness fill her.

It was a very good fullness that she wished would never go away and with how things were playing out she wished she could just cast a spell and keep them like that. But that wouldn’t be very convenient when she was planning world domination.

Bucking up at her, the evil queen jolted and gasped before wrapping a hand around his throat. “Seems someone needs to learn to control themselves…” she licked him from his neck to his chest as she said that enjoying the feeling of him withering under her.

To make sure he couldn’t move she conjured up that purple smoke and wrapped it around his hips effectively pinning him down as she started to roll her hips in an agonizingly slow pace. She wanted to go faster but she also wanted to draw this out for as long as possible. And if she went down on him like she wanted she feared that she wouldn’t last long.

Over the last week she couldn’t have sex with her boyfriend due to… world domination planning reasons and all that pent up sexual frustration was eating away at her as she rocked and grinded on him.

Now with the both of the panting and near out of breath, the evil queen sped up on her grinding and rocking smirking as the veins in the good kings body bulged out. She ran her tongue along one near his throat as she slammed down after nearly retracting entirely.

The good king moaned loudly his hands itching to grab her as he said “don’t… do that. I- I don’t know if I’ll last long like that.” The evil queen chuckled in his ear doing it again and again, moaning as she felt his dick jolt inside her slick heat.

Being near herself she threw her head back and hit her lip as she focused on chasing down that long awaited climax that was just on the tip of falling over the edge. Being distracted by the pleasure, the purple confines around the good kings body started to disappear.

Feeling this he immediately grabbed the evil queens hips and slammed up words smirking himself at the surprise in her voice. She tried to put the confines back in place but the good king held her hips down on him as he slammed up again and again until he felt her tight walls squeeze around him as she came over the edge.

He followed soon after and had to turn his head in the pillow to conceal his groan. They both panted and waited for a while as they regained their breaths before the evil queen pulled out and sat on the edge of the bed fixing her crown.

With a wave of her hand she and the good king were now back to being dressed neatly and their hair tidy but as she turned to look at him she found him near asleep on her bed. Softly rolling her eyes she gently shook him.

“Come on sweetheart! I have a thronecoming to win.”

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Hope you enjoyed this little spice and as always feel free to send me a commission any time for any fandom you want just remember to specify if you want fluff or smut!!

I have an other evil queen x good king fic coming (hopefully) Wednesday so make sure to come back for that if you are interested

[sceletaflores]

ghosts, ghouls, goblins, and other things that go bump in the night!

pair: logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 4.5k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, drinking, resident bestie diva wade wilson, matching costumes ofc, established relationship, p in v, semi-public sex (bathroom), rough sex, mirror sex, gratuitous amounts of dirty talk, light degradation, light hair pulling, light choking, nasty dirty breeding kink (@guiltyasdave infected me with the breeding kink disease...it's all her fault), 4k words for straight up porn w/o plot, no use of y/n.

nat’s note: happy halloween! sort of...i obvi couldn't wait to post this until the actual day cause i have absolutely zero patience so here you go! i thought up this idea in the middle of the night and literally got out of bed to start it. it's a nasty self indulgent mess...hope you love it! kisses <3

cutie divider by icon @saradika-graphics!

you and logan have some fun at wade's halloween party...

Unsurprising to no one, Wade Wilson knows how to throw a party. 

Every year since the two of you became neighbors, you’ve gotten a gaudy invitation decorated with cartoon bats and devils slipped under your door just in time for Halloween.

Of course, it’s always in some cheesy font, red and glittery. A crappy pun about “scaring up some fun with your favorite mercenary” with a return address listed as ‘Hell’s Playground’ inscribed on the front.

It's awful. You haven’t missed one yet.

And not just because you’re a sucker for free booze and cheap decorations. It’s like tradition now, you can't have your perfect attendance streak cut off four years in. That's just bad manners.

Besides, this is the first year you’ve gotten to do a couples costume.

“I look fuckin’ ridiculous,” Logan mutters, deep voice laced with irritation as he messes with the wolf ears perched awkwardly on his head. “Can’t believe I let you drag me to this thing.”

You don’t turn to face him, but you can still see the frown tugging his lips down in your mind. Logan’s never been one for costumes, but his options were either dress up or stay home while you went and had fun without him.

He was dead set on staying at home for most of the day.

One look at the frilly white bloomers that came with your costume and he changed his tune.

“Quit being such a baby,” you toss over your shoulder, pouring your second cup of whatever Wade mixed together in the mini cauldron sitting on his bar. “You look great, babe.”

He really shouldn’t complain, his costume is barely a costume. An old flannel with the sleeves ripped off and some mangy jeans.

The fake ears and tail were a struggle and a half to get him on board with, but Logan’s all bark and no bite. He was more than willing to roll over and show you his belly after enough begging.

Logan scoffs, big hand pawing at your hip to drag you to his side. “You owe me for this,” he rumbles low in your ear, the playful threat sending a shiver down your spine.

“You’ll survive,” you tease, a smug grin spreading across your face as you tug playfully on the tail clipped to his belt loop. “Unless you wanted to switch?”

Logan’s eyes drag over your body shamelessly, all the way from the floppy sheep ears sitting on your head to the lacy white corset and matching bloomers that do little to hide your curves. 

You don’t miss the way his eyes darken, how he runs his tongue along the sharp point of his canines like he wants to sink his teeth into you.

It sends a familiar heat coursing through your veins, warming your insides just as much as the vodka with a hint of mixer you’ve been sipping at.

You start to wish you shelled out for the fake fangs at the party store.

Logan tugs you closer, his lips curling into a slow, predatory smirk. “Not a chance in hell,” he rasps, voice dipping a couple octaves lower. “Looks better on you, baby.”

You hum idly as his arm snakes around your waist, fingers splayed along your lower back, inching dangerously close to the swell of your ass.

“You better behave,” you chastise, though it’s more playful than stern as you look up at him through your lashes. “We’re in public.”

Logan’s grip tightens, a soft grunt leaving him as he leans in, nosing along the side of your face. “Doesn’t seem like much of a party when all I’m thinkin’ about is how fast I can get you outta this damn costume.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks, the warm puff of his breath over your skin makes your knees feel weak. You try to keep your cool, but it’s hard when he’s practically radiating heat and that intoxicating scent of leather and pine fills your senses. 

Before you can respond, a loud call of your name grabs your attention. 

"There you are!" Wade shouts from across the room, already making his way towards you.

All six foot two and half inches of him is wrapped in blue and white lace, paired with a matching hoop skirt that bounces with every step he takes. His shepherd's staff thuds against the floor when he comes to a stop in front of you. “Fashionably late, I see.”

“We’ve been here for thirty minutes,” you point out, brow cocked as you take in his costume. “Where’ve you been?”

“I’m the hostess with the mostest, honey bunny,” he says, throwing his arm out to gesture towards all the dressed up guests crammed into his living room. “Can’t spread myself too thin.”

He eyes Logan's wolf ears and fake tail, then turns back to you, wiggling his brows suggestively. 

"Kinky,” he comments, flicking the little gold bell hanging from the choker around your neck. “You two just couldn’t resist a little predator-prey roleplay, huh? Should I be worried about you getting all ‘Animal Planet’ on my couch?”

Logan’s grip on your waist tightens, his mouth brushing your ear as he mutters, “I’m gonna kill him before midnight.”

“Now, now, big bad wolf, no need to huff and puff and blow my skirt up. We’re all here to have a howl of a time!” Wade continues, undeterred. “Plus, if you behave, I might just let you keep your sheep when the night’s over.”

You can practically feel Logan’s eye twitch, but you snicker, leaning into him just a little more. “Play nice, Wade,” you say, trying to smother your laugh. “The wolf might eat you first.”

“Please,’ Wade snorts, twirling his shepherd's staff deftly in his hand. “If that’s on the table, I’ll lay out the fucking fine china.”

Logan lets out a huff of air, dropping his hold on you and brushing past Wade with a grunt. "I'm gettin' another beer."

“Try not to stab anyone!” Wade shouts after him, loud enough to be heard over the Monster Mash blaring from the speakers. “Al might blow the whole complex if any more blood gets on the linoleum!”

Logan throws a middle finger over his shoulder as he disappears into the kitchen. 

You watch him go, a grin plastered to your face at the way the tail swings with every step he takes. Something warm and fuzzy settles in your chest, blooming in the empty space of your ribcage.

You know Logan hates this–the people, the lights, the music, the costumes.

But he’s here anyway, for you.

Here wearing the stupid wolf costume you bought for him, surrounded by drunk people in inflatable dinosaur costumes and witches with dollar-store broomsticks. And despite all the grumbling, he hasn’t bolted for the door once.

All for you. And that makes your heart thump a little harder in your chest, your smirk softening into something sweeter.

"You’ve got him whipped," Wade deadpans, crossing his arms, the lace of his sleeves rustling as he does. “It’s really disgusting.”

You snort, shaking your head softly. "More like he's got a soft spot."

Wade eyes you skeptically. "Same thing, toots."

You hum noncommittally, turning back to him. “Cute outfit,” you comment, eyeing the white bonnet secured by a neat little bow under his chin.

“You like it?” Wade does a quick twirl, the blonde curls of his wig nearly slap you across the face as he does. “The guy at party city kept giving me weird looks, but I think he was just jealous of how well I fill in the blouse.”

You rake your gaze over him slowly, taking another slow sip from your cup. “The stockings are a nice touch, but don’t you think running around as Little Bo Peep will send some confusing messages.”

“Well, duh. That’s only the whole point, Sherlock.” Wade snorts, shaking his head like it’s obvious. “I’m way too emotionally invested in this relationship to not try and wiggle my way into throuple territory.”

You can’t help but laugh, rolling your eyes. “A throuple? Hate to break it to you, Peep, but Logan doesn’t really strike me as the sharing type.”

Wade leans in conspiratorially, cupping a hand around his mouth like he’s letting you in on a secret. “That’s why I’m playing the long game. Gotta wear him down with my irresistible charm, and when he finally snaps, I’ll swoop in with a bottle of Jack and a promise of no strings attached.”

You shake your head, chuckling into your drink. “You’ve got it all figured out, don't you?”

“Oh, honey,” Wade purrs, winking at you with a dramatic flutter of his lashes, “I've got a five-year plan.”

You roll your head to the side lazily, sheep ears swaying as you do. “I’ll give you points for persistence.”

"Damn straight," he says with a grin, straightening his bonnet proudly. “This level of commitment takes stamina. And by the way, I’ve got great stamina. My record is thirteen.”

You raise your brow, intrigued. “Thirteen what? Rounds? Hours?”

“Wouldn't you like to know,” he scoffs indignantly, rolling his eyes. “I’m more than just a pretty face in a killer dress, thank you very much.”

You groan, giving him a light push. "You’re impossible."

Wade grins, leaning closer to throw an arm around your shoulders. “I’m just pulling your tail, Wooly. You know I’d never come between you and your beefy boy toy. I mean, look at him. He’s practically pacing the kitchen like a caged animal just looking at you in your slutty nursery rhyme getup. How pathetic.”

You turn to steal a glance at Logan, who’s leaned against the counter scanning the room from behind his beer bottle. You feel a thrill at the idea that he’s watching over you like a hawk, making sure no one gets too close, slowly working himself up over the mere sight of you. 

But more than that, it’s the slight reluctant smirk tugging at his lips as he takes in the party. You can tell he’s managing to find some enjoyment in all this, even if he’d never admit it.

“Well,” Wade starts, dragging the word out slowly. “Since you’re all cozy over here with your alpha male, I’m gonna go find someone to share these…”

He holds up two shot glasses filled with some unidentifiable neon liquid, “…artisanal beverages with. Maybe that guy dressed like a merman. I’ve always wanted to see what's going on under those tails.”

You snort, raising your own cup to your lips. "You're awful."

“Only on the outside, sugar,” he says leaning down to kiss your cheek with a wet smack before flouncing away into the crowd, his skirt swishing as he goes. “Don’t fuck in my house without at least inviting me to watch!”

You laugh to yourself, watching as Wade fades into the crowd of gyrating bodies. You take another long sip, relishing in the familiar burn as it slips down your throat.

The laughter, the music, the chaotic energy of the party—it’s all intoxicating in its own right, but it’s nothing compared to the way Logan’s eyes are boring a hole through the back of your head.

You can feel his gaze like a tangible force, wrapping around you and drawing you in. Logan’s not just watching; he’s assessing, hungry for something that goes far beyond the Halloween festivities surrounding you.

The heat radiating from his gaze only intensifies your already buzzing anticipation, mixing dangerously with the two drinks swirling in your stomach, making you bolder.

You throw back the rest of your drink, setting the empty cup on the bar and making your way across the room. You weave through the crowd seamlessly, the music pulses around you, drowning out the laughter and chatter.

You feel a daring grin spread across your face as you saunter closer, reveling in the way Logan tracks your every move like a predator zeroing in on its prey. 

When you’re finally standing in front of him, you lean against the counter, giving him a good view of the way your corset dips lower. The fabric hugs you in all the right places, teasing him with glimpses of your skin beneath the delicate lace. 

"Looks like Little Bo Peep lost his sheep," he mutters, voice like gravel drenched in honey.

You smirk, tilting your head to the side innocently as you step around the counter. “Maybe I was already planning to run away, to go looking for a big bad wolf to play with.”

You slip two fingers through the belt loop at the front of his jeans, tugging him closer with a rough yank.

Logan’s goes willingly, taking a step closer. His breath hitches as he does, the hazel of his eyes darkening as you press your body against his, not letting an inch of space between you.

“You're really pushin it,” he warns lowly, hands finding your waist, fingers digging in hard enough to send a shiver cascading down your spine. "Makin’ me watch you run around in this fuckin’ thing.”

“Am I?” you reply coyly, fingers toying with the button of his jeans. “I’m just—” you start, but the words are swallowed by the thumping bass of the music as Logan’s lips crash against yours, silencing you with a hungry kiss.

His mouth moves against yours with a fervor that leaves you breathless, and you can’t help but melt into him, feeling the world around you fade away.

The taste of beer mingles with the vodka on your tongue as you sink into the kiss, his hands tightening around you as he pulls you even closer.

“You have no fuckin’ idea how hard it is keepin’ my hands to myself,” he murmurs against your lips, his breath hot and heavy. 

“Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea,” you tease, biting your lip as you pull back just enough to meet his gaze. You can see the fire smoldering in his eyes, the predatory glint that makes your stomach flutter with excitement. “But maybe you could show me just how hard it really is.”

Logan lets out a low growl, and before you can blink, he’s snatching your wrist up and dragging you through the kitchen. 

Laughter bubbles out from your chest as you trip over your own feet in an attempt to keep up with him. Adrenaline pulses through your veins, the warmth in your stomach dipping lower to leak sticky and wet between your thighs.

He’s not rushing, but there’s an undeniable urgency in his step, a raw need that makes your pulse race in sync with his heavy stride. Weaving you through the crowd and out into the hallway until the noise of the party gets lower and lower. 

You’re familiar enough with the layout of Wade’s place to know where Logan’s taking you, the bathroom.

The door is hardly shut before Logan’s spinning you around and crowding you against the sink. His lips are on you before you can even catch your breath, rough and possessive, as if he’s been starving for this all night. 

The kiss is rougher than before, dirty and all consuming as he claims your mouth. A mess of teeth and tongue and spit that sends your head spinning, body arching off the counter and into his instinctively. 

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he growls, trailing his lips down your neck, kissing and biting his way to your collarbone. “Drivin’ me so crazy, baby.”

You bite your lip, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as his calloused fingers trace over the swell of your breasts, kneading the soft flesh with a possessive grip that makes your breath hitch. 

Your arms circle his neck, dragging him down for more filthy kisses. The thick length of his cock pressing against your stomach insistently has you keening, a hard plane of scalding warmth even through the thick material of his jeans.

You let out a soft whimper as his fingers brush against your inner thigh, and he grins at your reaction.

He leans in, his breath hot against your ear. "Bet you’re already soaked for me, aren’t you?" His voice drops even lower, a filthy rasp that sends a jolt of heat straight to your core.

You don’t answer, can’t answer, because Logan’s already got his hand between your thighs, fingers teasing over the soft fabric of your bloomers.

His touch is feather-light, but it’s enough to have you gasping, head lolling back to expose even more of your neck to his fever hot lips.

He groans when he feels how soaked you are, his breath coming out in a rough exhale.

“Figures,” he grunts, his fingers pressing harder, rubbing slow circles over the slick fabric. “Could smell it on you from across the room. You’re fuckin’ drippin’ for me, baby.”

You whine, high in the back of your throat, chest heaving with every quick breath. Your legs spread, thighs widening like you can’t help it. His words send a wave of heat straight to your core, fanning the fire of need festering inside you. 

“Next year we’ll get you in a skirt,” he says, nipping at your bottom lip teasingly. His fingers slip under your bloomers, running through your slick folds teasingly. “Easy access.”

You let out a breathless moan, your hips bucking against his hand, begging for more.

“Logan,” you whimper, but he just smirks, applying more pressure with his palm as he leans in closer, his mouth hovering over your ear.

“You like that, don’t you?” Logan rasps, his voice thick with desire. Dark tone laced with satisfaction as he dips one finger inside you, making your breath catch in your throat. “Look at you, drippin’ down my hand. You want more, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you nod frantically, your breath coming in shallow pants as he continues working you with skilled, relentless touches.

Two thick fingers plunged in your aching pussy, his thumb rubbing over your swollen clit. "Please," you whimper, gripping the edge of the sink so tight your knuckles turn with it, needing more, needing him to ruin you. 

“Please what, honey?” he rasps, leaning in to press a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You gotta be more specific.”

You grind against his hand faster, desperate for any kind of relief from the unbearable heat building between your legs. “I need you,” you breathe out, your voice trembling. “Need you to fuck me.”

Logan’s response is immediate. A low growl tearing its way from his throat as he gives your bottoms a rough tug, letting them fall down the length of your legs to pool at your ankles.

He slips his fingers out of you, ignoring your displeased whine and spinning you around to face the mirror, hands gripping your hips as he roughly bends you over the sink.

You find his eyes in the reflection, and the hunger there makes your pulse quicken. His lips are swollen, red and slick just like your own. Hazel eyes blown out and stormy, as he meets your gaze.

The fake whiskers and nose you drew on him before the party using an old eyeliner pen are smudged across the lower half of his face along with the red remnants of your lipstick. You have matching black marks scuffed along your cheeks.

"You’re gonna watch while I fuck you," he growls, popping the button of his jeans and pulling them down just enough to free his cock. He strokes himself once, twice, before lining up behind you, dragging the blunt head along your soaked entrance. "Don’t take your eyes off the mirror, baby. I want you to see what you do to me, what I get to see every fuckin’ time."

You nod breathlessly, eyes locked on his in the mirror as he pushes into you with one hard thrust. You gasp at the stretch, head falling to your chin at the pleasant burn of his cock.

"Fuck," Logan groans, his eyes glued to your reflection as he bottoms out inside you, the sheer size of him making your body tremble.

"Tight little fuckin’ pussy," he mutters, his grip on your hips tightening as he starts to move, setting a brutal, unrelenting pace. "You were made for this, weren’t you? Made to take my cock."

You can’t stop the moans that fall from your slack lips, pathetic little uh uh uh sounds that get punched out of you with every sharp thrust of his hips.

“Take me so fuckin’ well,” he growls, one hand coming up to grip around your throat, tugging meanly at the bell of your choker that rings as he pounds into you, each thrust harder than the last. “Such a good little sheep, lettin’ your mean old wolf fuck you like this.”

 "Fuck," you moan, the sound broken and desperate as he drives deeper, the thick length of him hitting that spot that has your knees buckling beneath you. “God, Logan…”

“Look,” Logan commands softly, reverently. His lips brushing your shoulder with every word as he tilts your head back up to the mirror, making yourself watch as you take his cock. “Look at how fuckin’ pretty you are getting wrecked on my cock.”

Your reflection in the mirror is a mess—flushed cheeks, eyes glassy with lust, your lips parted in a constant stream of breathless moans. You feel embarrassment mixing with the arousal swirling through your stomach, thighs shaking wildly from the onslaught of pleasure.

The loud slap of skin on skin rings through the tiny bathroom, underscored by the wet gush of your pussy around him each time he buries himself in you.

If anyone were to walk by, they’d surely hear it. They’d know someone was getting fucked, really taking it. The thought alone has you tightening around Logan’s cock, velvety walls clenching around him desperately. 

Logan notices, because of course he does, clever eyes picking up on the way your own drift to the door, lingering.

He threads his fingers through your hair, meanly yanking your head back to the mirror, a feral grin stretching across his face as he watches the way you fall apart for him. 

“Want me to howl for you, baby?” he teases, breath hot against the shell of your ear. You can feel the way his lips curve into an evil grin at the pathetic whine that bursts from your lips, at the feel of your pussy drooling around him even more than before.  

“She likes that, huh?” he chuckles darkly, his thumb finds your throbbing clit, rubbing tight circles as his hips speed up impossibly faster. “Dirty fuckin’ girl, you want everyone to know how good I’m givin’ it to you?”

You whimper, overwhelmed by the raw intensity of his words and the rhythm of his thrusts. Your thighs are trembling, barely able to hold you up as Logan takes you apart, piece by piece, with every deep, punishing stroke.

"Answer me," he growls, voice dripping with dominance as his hips snap against you, the head of his cock slamming into that perfect spot inside you again and again. "You want everyone to hear what a dirty little slut you are for me, huh? You want them to know how much you love being fucked like this?"

“Yes,” you gasp, your voice shaky and breathless as pleasure floods your system. "Yes, Logan, fuck—ah! Just—just don’t stop."

Logan growls, low and feral deep in his chest. It shakes through your body, rattling your bones just as much as the heavy smack of his metal laced pelvis against the raw skin of your ass.

“Greedy fuckin’ pussy, I can feel the way she’s sucking me in, baby,” he grits out, hips stuttering slightly. “She want my come, darlin’?"

You’re a mess of gasps and whimpers, nodding frantically as his words push you closer to the edge. Throwing your hips back to meet his thrusts as the spring inside you coils tighter and tighter, a hair's breadth away from snapping.

"Yes, please, Logan," you moan, your fingers digging into the counter as you brace yourself for the relentless onslaught of his cock. "I want it, want you to come inside me." 

Logan’s hips stutter as he slams into you, his cock buried so deep inside you it feels like he’s splitting you in half. He’s close, his breath coming out in ragged pants as his hand tightens around your throat, fingers pressing against your pulse just hard enough to make you dizzy.

“You’re gonna come for me,” he growls, heavy balls slapping against your ass lewdly. “Gonna come all over my cock, aren’t you? And then I’m gonna fill you up. Gonna fuck my come so deep inside you, you’ll be beggin’ me to give you more.”

That’s all it takes for the coil in your belly to snap, pleasure surging through you in hot, uncontrollable waves. You cry out, your vision blurring as your body clenches around him, and Logan lets out a rough growl, driving into you harder, faster. 

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow, dragging out every last second of your orgasm until you’re shaking, your voice hoarse from how loud you’re moaning.

“Goddamn, baby,” he mutters, his voice thick with lust as he keeps fucking into your trembling body. “You’re squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight—gonna come so deep in you.”

Your breath is coming in short, desperate gasps, your entire body still shaking from the aftershocks of your orgasm. But Logan isn’t finished. He used the fistful of your hair still trapped in his hand, tugging your head back to meet his wild gaze in the mirror. 

“Eyes on me,” he commands, his pace growing erratic. “You want me to fill you up? Want me to come in this tight little pussy?”

“Yes, Logan,” you manage to choke out, your voice barely a whisper. “Please—I need it.”

With a deep, broken groan of your name, Logan slams into you one last time, his hips stuttering as he spills inside you, hot and thick. His fingers tighten on your throat, and you moan at the feeling of his cock pulsing, filling you up to the brim. 

You can’t stop the whine that falls from your lips at the feel of his come spraying your insides, completely drenching you with it. So much that it just has to take.

A shudder runs through you at the idea, pussy clenching around his spent cock weakly.

Logan sighs contently, dropping his head to rest on your shoulder as he catches his breath, hands falling to your waist like it's the only anchor keeping him from floating away entirely.

For a moment, the only sounds in the room are your ragged breaths and the faint thump of the music outside bleeding through the walls.

Logan tips his head back up, meeting your hazy eyes in the fogged up glass of the mirror with a shit-eating grin. “Happy fuckin’ Halloween,” he says smugly, dropping a kiss to the sweaty skin of your shoulder. 

You huff, rolling your eyes with a reluctant fondness. The thought of walking back out there makes your stomach turn, nerves and arousal churning together at the chance that everyone knows what you two were doing after disappearing for so long.

You only hope the white fabric of your bloomers is good enough at hiding the come already leaking from your pussy.

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

[recareels]

✩°｡⋆ 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐬! ⋆｡°✩

anonymous wrote: what roleplays do you think the genshin men prefer in bed? for the ones you think would like a roleplay ofc

characters: ajax/tartaglia, kamisato ayato, thoma, alhaitham

notes: just a quick disclaimer before we jump into this: obviously and of course, everything mentioned here is entirely 100% consensual and just for pretend. each situation would’ve been thoroughly discussed beforehand, with safety measures and a safeword in place. please heed the warnings and stay safe!!

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, consensual noncon + stockholm syndrome + kidnapping in ajax’s, mentions of spanking, slapping, and bondage in alhaitham’s, blood, hint of yandere in thoma’s, coercion in ayato’s, power imbalances that are taken advantage of/clear power dynamics (dom/sub)

words: 1.5k

✧˖°. 𝐚𝐣𝐚𝐱 | 𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐚 .°˖✧

ajax is into anything that involves a hunter vs hunted, predator vs prey type vibe. it feels like a bit of a game to him, and it affords him those addictive thrill of the chase, bliss of the catch highs he craves so much. the sheer, potent power that surges through his veins, thick and dense and tingling, when he finally captures you, conquers you, when he finally wins, is downright intoxicating. it heightens his senses, gnaws on every nerve in his body until they’re frayed and raw and hypersensitive, keeping him awake and alert to every slight movement and shift.

he loves reenacting any version of little red riding hood versus the big bad wolf, enjoys stretching a scene out and playing a waiting game; slow and steady, cat and mouse, stealth and stalk until he strikes. the startled scream that claws its way up your throat the moment he finally pounces is always genuine—a pitchy, cracked, shrill little thing strangled by his teeth in your neck or his tongue down your throat—never exactly sure when he’s going to lunge and attack.

and, god, he’s sure he’ll never tire of that initial terror saturating your features, a gorgeous shock of fright slapped across your face—eyes wide, mouth gaped, shattered remnants of words trembling on your tongue and a gasp lacerating your throat—that morphs, mollifies, only a few moments later, into a sort of delirious anticipation as realization rings in your brain. 

that look never fades, never dims or dulls for even a second, as you pretend cry and scream and shove and kick, as you squirm and struggle in the tangle of his strong arms and beat little fists against his broad chest, as you tug and heave at the restraints bounding you to your shared bed, rope and metal chewing into the thin, delicate flesh of your wrists.

it doesn’t break the immersion, though, doesn’t ruin the scene or deaden the enthusiasm, because it only demonstrates that you’re enjoying it just as much as he is—the usual narrative he likes to play to himself throughout this scenario—only further works to prove that you want it just as badly as he does, no matter what whimpered protests and weeped out insults are spilling from your lips. because it exists within you; something innate, something inherent, a instinctive need to be taken care of, owned, controlled by your captor.

and throughout it all, his eyes are alight with excitement, bright and brilliant and beautifully blue, a breathless smile, sharp edges tinged with exhilaration, stretched over his cheeks while an aura of authority swathes his form; a regal cloak that glows violet, barely contained raw energy that snarls and snaps like bolts of amethyst lightning, shuddering off of him in wavering ripples.

✧˖°. 𝐚𝐲𝐚𝐭𝐨 .°˖✧

ayato likes playing mind games (to him, that’s half the fun!) and he likes being in control. when it comes to roleplays, he’d be most interested in the classic, golden age hollywood star x their devoted fan, where he is the star and you are the fan. however, instead of the fan pursuing the object of their affection, obsessive and urgent in nature, ayato flips this on its head, with the hollywood star taking advantage of the shy, smitten fan. he loves the corrupt, disgusting essence of it—the sleaziness, the coercion, the inherent and irrevocable power imbalance exerted over the bashful, helpless submissive—it’s all so deliciously depraved, and there are so many ways he can contort and coil this situation to suit and serve his needs. 

it works well, because you are already so timid, so sweet, so docile and doe-eyed and desperate to please, constantly and consistently hanging on his every word, flowing from his lips like dark, decadent chocolate; smooth and rich and sinful. they’re sentiments that have your mouth dropping open eagerly, tongue unfurling—sloppy and messy in its haste—to let the letters drizzle on your tastebuds, a satiny syrup that coats the muscle, thick and sticky and so sweet it stings your teeth,depositing trace notes of a bitter twinge characteristic of artificial sugar that linger long after the confection has faded.

the amount of effort he puts into your roleplay sessions is nothing short of admirable, and he takes the whole thing very seriously. in his trademark meticulous and dedicated style, he plans every single detail, assembling full costumes (with props, of course) for the both of you, in addition to taking the time to hash out the entire situation with you, complete with a full narrative: where and how the two of you met, and how he managed to get access to you. past scenarios include at the premiere for one of his newest films; through previously exchanged fan letters and love notes that grew with startling frequency, length and intensity until he just had to meet you; you being a screenwriter or a PA on set who just so happens to have a huge crush on the lead actor—the variations on this one dynamic are endless! ayato isn’t beyond renting out actual locations for the two of you to conduct your roleplay scenes in, too—old movie houses and extravagant ballrooms and expensive hotel suites—because every aspect must be absolutely perfect. 

✧˖°. 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐚 .°˖✧

i honestly don’t think thoma would be too into roleplaying himself/on his own, but as a service dom i think he’d absolutely give it a shot for you, because he genuinely wants to please you, wants you to have a good time and enjoy yourself, wants to indulge you in all of your fantasies and desires, and he gets satisfaction and gratification from giving you what you want. with that being said, his favourite roleplay would probably be royalty x servant, where you are the royalty and he is your loyal but depraved servant. the scene would always begin, predictably, with you in a position of authority and dominance and thoma doing whatever you ask—you’re so cute when he gives you permission to be the boss—but it would quickly devolve as hazy, intoxicating lust compels your sweet, obedient servant, cloaking his judgement and clouding his vision and consuming his receptors. it overrides his rational thought, infects his bones, his blood, his brain until there’s barely any of him left anymore, entirely absorbed by the carnality, possessed and out of control. and, like ajax, he always savours that sweet, surprised little gasp huffed into his mouth when he’s finally had enough, when he can’t take it anymore, when he must fucking do something about it.

but what thoma really loves in this scenario is the progression, the way that hedonistic tension builds and builds and builds with each order uttered from your lips until it’s overbearing, overwhelming, overflowing; until it forces a switch, a flip, corroding any trusses of restraint and then devouring his character whole, rendering him a complete slave to his desire. the details are different every time—what the final request is that makes him truly snap, how long he can manage to hold out, how he fractures and splinters under the weight of his ardour and how he ravishes you in response, etc—entirely dependant on the evolution of the scene itself and thoma’s mood on that current day. it’s this unpredictability that makes it truly enthralling, the unknowing and the uncertainty of how it’s all going to play out this time that genuinely enraptures him, that sparks a certain type of voracity in his tummy, a gnawing, enthusiastic curiosity that can never fully be quenched.

✧˖°. 𝐚𝐥𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐦 .°˖✧

alhaitham is into pretty much anything that has to do with the misuse and abuse of authority. his favourite is, of course, professor x student, but he’s also interested in police officer x convict, boss x employee/secretary, and doctor x nurse—anything that involves an inherent position of power is being taken advantage of, anything that involves an intrinsic and permanent power imbalance being twisted and tooled to the superior’s benefit. roleplay situations such as these allow for infinite creativity and demand a certain level of intelligence, of cleverness, in order to be pulled off properly and satisfactorily. 

it’s his favourite when you get snarky with him, saucy and snappy and resistant to his demands, challenging the limits and boundaries of this power dynamic and gifting him sufficient reason to punish, to exert that power and authority and (temporarily) tame his brat back into their rightful submissive place. props are a must with alhaitham, and he enjoys using them to deliver this punishment and/or to restrain you—metersticks, heavy books, and canes that double as batons used to spank you, each procuring a mosaic of interesting swollen marks on your ass; wooden tongue depressors used to flick and slap your nipples and your cheeks, leaving thick, cylinder shaped welts across your flesh; metal handcuffs and expensive silk neckties used to bound and bind you, cutting into the skin of your wrists and creating the prettiest bracelets of sticky scarlet, steadily oozing from thin splices, that will crust and dry in tiny mountains of ruby.

[deepdisireslonging]

All the Better

For lack of better description, the Reader belongs to Wardlow, the war dog of AEW. He likes to lean into the wolf motif, especially when it comes to taking care of his girl. For their anniversary, he buys her a red set of lingerie… and tells her to run.

Pairing: Wardlow x Reader

Warnings/Promises: SMUT, hunter/prey vibes, eroticizing of a children’s story, edging, pheromone-perfume use, oral (female receiving), P-in-V; So. Much. Smut.

Word Count: 2960

Note: I’m so not sorry for hitting you all with this. Happy reading!

For being such a big guy, Wardlow was quiet. You’d lost count of how many times you’d be in the kitchen making coffee, or backstage going over paperwork, or anywhere else thinking you were completely alone… and suddenly the hairs would stand up on the back of your neck. You’d turn, and there he was. That big smile lighting up his face and warming you like the sun. He especially liked sneaking up behind you to growl a greeting against the skin between your shoulder blades. This silent ability of his pretty much always kept you on edge.

You were home. It was the eve of your anniversary. You were nervously cleaning up before Wardlow would arrive, probably rushing in on two wheels. He had hinted for days that he had something special planned. More than dinner out at a nice place. You’d dressed up a bit, just in case. But just on the surface. Since he had a habit of ripping off your underclothes the second he had you in his arms, you didn’t bother past matching the color of your bra and panties.

The doorbell rang.

You smiled. Ever the gentleman.

“Hello, there, tall stranger. How may I help you?”

Your man looked delectable. His medium-nice suit showed off his broad shoulders well. And his shirt was open at the front, giving you the smallest peak of his strong collarbone.

“I have a delivery for a Ms. Y/N.” He held out a bouquet of your favorite flowers. While you accepted them happily, he smirked as you kept an eye on the package under his arm. “And this too.”

You sat the flowers aside and reached for the box. Just as your fingers grasped the ribbon, his hand shot out, snagging your wrist. He tugged you close to his chest; his cologne made you heady.

“I’m giving you a ten-minute head start. Then… run. Hide. But I will find you. And you won’t rest till tomorrow morning after I’m done ravaging you.” He leaned back, watching your expression. “Alright?”

You nodded vigorously. With the way his eyes glinted hungrily, you had a good idea what the box contained.

He looked you up and down like he could already picture having you pinned to your bed, or the couch, or a wall. He glanced at his watch. “Nine minutes. Thirty seconds.” Then, gently pressing against your stomach, he pushed you back into the house. He arched an eyebrow at you with a smile and closed the door with him on the outside. The lock engaged.

You rushed up the stairs to the bedroom, the flowers abandoned by the door. Ripping open the packaging, you froze as the first glance of lace peeked between the layers of tissue paper.

It was red. The whole set. There was more coverage for your breasts and ass than his usual picks. Then again, it would hold you a little better as you ran. The baby-doll jacket had a lightweight hood sewed onto the back, finishing the ensemble.

So he wanted to play Big Bad Wolf.

You fumbled your way quickly into the set. This Little Red Riding Hood was happy to make for an interesting chase. But when you glanced at the clock on the end table, you jolted. How much time had passed? You didn’t think to look earlier. Now you had no idea if he’d knocked five minutes ago, three, or nine.

You frantically tried to think of a place to hide.

On a whim, you spritzed his favorite perfume on your pulse points. It had been an impulse buy, more of a joke. The pheromones the perfume was supposed to contain had made you giggle when you saw it on the shelf. Then breathless when Wardlow caught the scent of it when he buried his nose in the curve of your neck. Now you always kept it in stock. If it drove him wild on a normal day… You wafted a spray over your belly button for good measure.

You heard a creak. Was he headed up the stairs already? Or was the house settling?

Forgetting your half-baked plan, you hurried across the hall. The house wasn’t too big, but there were extra rooms for when your parents and friends visited, and for your office, and for his personal gym. The steps you heard seemed to still be downstairs. You hazarded tiptoeing to the top edge of the steps.

He wasn’t in sight. But the flowers were in a vase on the kitchen counter.

If he wasn’t in sight… this might be your only chance to hide downstairs before he came up to look for you.

You hugged the railing on the way down. Just as you slipped behind the large armchair in the corner, Wardlow stepped into the living room. You couldn’t see him. But you could hear how his steps paused at the base of the stairs. Holding your breath, you waited to hear his next move. When you heard nothing for several seconds, you glanced around the back of the chair.

His shoes were sitting empty at the bottom of the steps.

Silently, you cursed to yourself. He was quiet in shoes. And nearly completely silent in socks. But… that would also make his pursuit slippery on the hardwood floors on the kitchen-side of the house. You headed that direction, hoping to hide somewhere in the dining room.

You never made it.

A hand reached out from the shadow of a door frame and snagged you by the throat. In seconds, you were pinned with your cheek to the wall as Wardlow pressed hard behind you.

“Hello there,” he teased in your ear. He took a deep breath, taking in the quivering of your body and the sight of you in your red outfit. Then he inhaled the scent of your perfume. If you’d been able to see his face, you were sure his eyes would have dilated. He leaned in closer, running his hands over your stomach and your breasts. “You’re a genius.”

You laughed. “Thanks. Still didn’t last long.” With whimper, you bit your lip as Wardlow ground his hard bulge into your ass. “Feels like you won’t last long either.” But when you tried to reach back for him, he growled in your ear and pinned your hands to the small of your back.

“What makes you think we’re done playing?” He continued to knead your breasts. Hyped up on adrenaline as you were, your nerves were already thrumming. Each squeezing grip and roll of your nipples drove you higher towards pleasure. “Like I said, I’m not going to be done with you till morning. And I intend to take you as I like you, when I like. So, run, Babygirl. Run.”

With a gasp, you realized you were alone again. Your body was shivering with need… and playful fear. This was worse than you thought. You thought his plan was to ravage you when he caught you. But now you knew: he intended to hunt you down over and over again, toying and edging you all evening, until he couldn’t take it anymore. And Wardlow was a patient man.

Dizzy with arousal you stumbled to the dining room. And regretted your choice. There was nowhere to hide here. And your red lingerie stood out like a red flag to a bull. Your chest heaved with panting; you could still feel his large hands on your breasts. He wasn’t far away.

The lights flicked on, making you yelp.

But he didn’t come into the room.

You knew he was waiting outside. Waiting for you to dash by so he could grab you again. What would he do to you this time? Spread his hands across your hot spots again until you couldn’t see straight? Or would he dip his fingers beneath the fabric to search out your slick? There was plenty for him to find.

Taking a breath, you made a break for it. No hand reached for you. No shadow rose up into your path. But the light flicked off in the room, making you run faster. You ran to the end of the hallway, suddenly turning into a room. You re-closed the door as quietly as you could and looked around. It was Wardlow’s gym. The wall-to-wall mirror on one side left nothing out of sight. But you hurried to the far corner anyway, ducking behind the cabinet that held his equipment. And not a moment too soon.

Wardlow entered. He looked around, glancing in the mirror for a flash of red. When he didn’t see a trace of you, he shut the door. You assumed it was on his way out. With your hiding place on the same side as the glass, you weren’t 100% sure.

Time to find another place to hide.

But as you emerged, a shadow moved behind yours.

Wardlow pinned your back to the wide bench in the center of the room. He took a seat, hiking your legs over his clothed thighs. Before you could try to roll away, he spread a large, warm hand over your abdomen.

Without a word, he began to run his thumb across the fabric above your clit. It was thin enough for you to feel every movement, and thick enough that he would have to work for a bit before your wetness would seep through. He titled this head to watch your response. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as you arched, doing your best to move closer to his administrations and grind into his bulge. His eyes glittered as you keened under his quickening touch. You were panting. With your hands in your hair, and your eyes closed, you were completely at his mercy.

He slid his other thumb into your mouth, using it to tilt your head to one side. You opened your eyes. Shivering, you saw yourself in the mirror as he saw you: already blissed out of your mind and your body pleading for him to take you.

“Please,” you moaned around his thumb. Sucking on it like you would his cock, you smoothed a hand down your thigh before placing it over his on your sex. “Please, baby-“

“Not yet.”

Sitting you up, he motioned to the door with a nod. He chuckled as you stumbled into the door frame on the way out.

Your captures came quicker after that. He did, indeed, pin you to the back of the couch. And to the bookshelves while he kissed deeply between your breasts. He’d dragged you out from under the guest bed, ignoring your screams of shock and delight so he could mouth up your spine. You only made it halfway up the stairs before he pinned you there too, kissing you deeply enough that you never wanted to move. But he sent you off with a slap to your ass.

Vision blurry around the edges and mind hazy with need, you finally collapsed onto your bed. The box you’d left there was gone. And he’d somehow managed to sneak up here and flick on the electric candles you kept for such nights. You agreed they were safer to use when your need burned for each other without needing to risk burning down the house. Trembling with arousal, you let the babydoll caplet fall off your shoulders. You crawled up to lay against the pillows. Despite the trouble it would cause when he caught you, you kneaded your breasts.

The door swung open, giving Wardlow a full sight of your hands trying desperately to replicate what his could do.

“Surrendering already, baby?”

“Mhmm.” You bit your bottom lip, keening for him to manhandle you all he liked.

But he stopped at the foot of the bed. “That’s it. Put on a show for me.” He choked as your mouth fell open with a high whine. “Do you need me that badly, Y/N? Where do you need me?” You reached for the edge of your panties, but he stopped you with a tsk. “Only I get to take those off.”

Your eyes drifted open from where they’d fluttered shut. And you almost forgot to keep moving. As much as you had been giving him a show, he began to give you one. Every girl’s crazy ‘bout a sharp dressed man. Because half the fun is watching the suit come off. Your breath stuttered as he lazily undid each button on his shirt. His suit jacket was long gone. As the expanse of his shoulders and chest were revealed, you pressed your thighs together. He smirked at your desperation, deftly removing his pants and every last scrap of fabric. While your movements stilled, enraptured by the sight in front of you, he lightly fisted his cock. For a second, the air paused. You leaned further into the pillows under his gaze. Then he crawled over you.

“What a big mouth you have,” you said with a smirk. You twirled your fingers into his hair.

He chuckled. And caught your earlobe between his teeth. “All the better to eat you with, my dear.”

He kissed you deeply under your jaw. Over your lips until you could barely breathe. And into the center of your chest to make you arch. Deftly, he unhooked the back of your bra and slid it down your arms before tossing it to the floor. He kissed down your stomach. When he scented around your belly button, he almost lost his composure. Instead, he snagged the last bit of lace between his teeth, dragging it down and off until you were bare for him.

It infuriated you how he kissed the inside of your thighs. How he kissed down to one of your knees and back up again. All the while his hands kneaded your hips. You desperately thrust, trying to draw him where you wanted. But he took his time. Nothing you could ever do was going to dissuade him from taking you how he liked, when he liked.

Just when you were sure he would keep you on edge like this for hours, he finally ran his nose across the top of your sex. The way he ate you out was like he’d never taste you again. Once he found the slick you had since the first time he pinned you to the wall, he was relentless. Tongue and fingers and humming and everything to take you high without sending you over. His thumb lightly flicked your clit while his tongue lapped at you. And when he did curl his fingers into you, it was never fast enough to make you cum.

So you tried one more thing to get what you wanted.

“Please, Michael. Make me cum. Please, baby, please.” You took to kneading your breast again, while your other hand curled into his hair.

His response was to rest his head on his hand as it splayed across your abdomen. All the while, his thumb never stopped toying with you. Each flick sent a jolt through you, making your breath stutter. He smiled darkly, watching your whole body flinch with the sensation.

“Why? Maybe I want to eat you out like this all night?”

You mewled. As lovely as that sounded… “but I need you. Needed you since you came to the door. Need you to fill me like only you can. Please, Michael. Give me your cock. Fill me up. Please!”

He chuckled. And stood. He jerked his cock while never stopping his flicking over your clit. “You need my cock? Here it is. Can’t you see it?”

“Need it in me. Please-“

He curled two fingers into you, nearly making you arch off the bed. “Alright. Since you asked so nicely.” He crawled over you again, sucking your nipple into his mouth. Distracted by his mouth, you jolted again to feel him enter you.

Finally feeling your body drawing him in, Wardlow did his best not to crush you. He panted into your skin. Mouthing across your chest, he muttered, “fuck.” It shocked him how your walls clamped around him, doing their best to not let him go. He kissed you deeply. And swallowed your rising cries as his desperation finally took control. Burying his face into the crook of your neck, he inhaled your perfume again. It stuttered his pace, then sped it up.

You held onto him for dear life. Diggin your nails into his back and wrapping your legs around his waist, you did everything you could to draw him closer. All the while also trying to remain conscience long enough to finally feel your pleasure snap. When it did, you cried out his name into his hair. And you kept murmuring his name as he continued thrusting into you.

When he did fill you, it wasn’t your last orgasm of the evening. He kept his promise. The first rays of morning were just filtering in through your windows before he collapsed beside you. Several of the candles had died out, their batteries depleted long before he was satisfied with taking everything he could from your pleasure.

Lips shivering against your skin, he kissed the underside of your jaw. You smoothed your thumb over his cheek.

With a grin, you breathed a laugh. “You didn’t tear off the set. Don’t you like it?”

“Mhmm. But I needed to keep it mostly together. So we can do this again. If you’re willing.”

“Yes. Very.” You pushed at his shoulder till he was on his back. With a sigh, you tossed a leg over his waist and rested your head on his chest.

The sun was high in the sky before either of you woke up. Only for him to dive into enjoying you again.

***

Masterlist

Wrestling/WWE Masterlist 

[bitethedevil]

Taming the Wolf (Raphael x Tav): Chapter 1

Tags and Warnings for this fic: Plus-Size!Tav, Druid!Tav, Tiefling!Tav, Dark!Raphael, Breeding Kink, Mind-control, Non-Con and Dub-Con Elements, Sex Pollen, Master/Pet Dynamic, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

A link to read this fic on AO3 (kudos or comments make the author very happy <3)

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Fic Summary: Tav tried to avoid fulfilling her contract to Raphael by leaving the Crown of Karsus on the bottom of the Chionthar, leaving her contract unfulfilled by a technicality. Although, no situation is so bad that the new Archdevil of the First can't find a way to profit off it. All the other archdevils of the Hells have their own lineages of tieflings on the Material Plane and Raphael is not going to feel left out...

AN: I'm working on learning how to write smut, so I made this. That's essentially what this fic is: depraved smut. I also noticed that there aren't a lot of plus-sized Tav fics when it comes to Raphael (please recommend them to me if you have found any), so Raph is into bigger girls in this one. There is no smut in this first chapter since I am setting the scene first, but remember to mind the tags in future chapters. There might be additions to them as we go along with this fic.

Tav was padding through the forest, sniffing the ground in her wolf form. She had gotten the scent of a rabbit. She was following its trail with her nose, and the scent was getting stronger. She was getting close. Her mouth started watering.

She slowed her pace and lowered her body closer to the ground when she saw it. Just a few feet ahead of her, she saw the fat little creature sitting on its hindlegs, sniffing the air. She moved closer with calculated steps. It turned its head towards her. She pounced on it…

…And missed it. Yet again. The little creature sped through the forest floor before she could even sink her teeth into it. Her hunting skills had needed training ever since she got rid of the tadpole. She felt like a novice again after having spent so much time in her real form during her adventure.

She huffed and lowered her nose to the ground yet again to see if she could find her next meal somewhere else. That is when she saw flames rise around her. She instinctively walked backwards to avoid them. They quickly lowered again, and she saw that she was somewhere entirely else.

The smell of sulfur reached her nose immediately and it made her blood run cold. So did her new surroundings. She was in a gigantic hall that seemed big enough for a small army to comfortably march through. The tall walls were made of dark basalt. She fixed her orange eyes at the shapes she saw on the walls. She looked at the charred bodies hanging from them.

She smelled him in the air before she heard him: sulfur, musk, palmarosa, and pepper.

“Yes, Zariel had a bit of a flair for dramatics.”

She turned back into her human form. Her white fur turned into her grey skin, her fluffy tail turned into her long spaded one, and she felt the familiar weight of her curved horns on her head again. She stumbled slightly as she turned around to face him. She had not walked on two legs for days.

“Raphael,” she greeted and coughed, trying to find her voice again.

His body was turned towards the wall she had been looking at. His head turned towards her. He was dressed fancier than she had ever seen him. His usual red and blue outfit had been exchanged for a black suit with red and gold accents.

He looked her up and down with the hint of an amused smile on his lips. She no doubt looked a mess. Her thick dark curls had not seen a brush for weeks. Her grey skin was caked with dirt and old blood from the few kills she had managed to make while she had been in Wildshape.

“You are no less feral than the last time I saw you, I see,” he said. “Perhaps a bath is in order before we speak. A certain degree of decorum is expected when one speaks to an Archdevil.”

That made her cough even worse as she choked on her own spit.

“A what?” she choked out and looked him up and down.

“An Archdevil,” he repeated. “Avernus is mine after you left the Crown of Karsus to me.”

They had promised the Crown of Karsus to Raphael, but they had left it at the bottom of the Chionthar instead. The pieces of the it were scattered across the bottom of the river, and they had naively hoped that was enough to keep it from doing more harm.

“Went for a swim, did you?” she asked. “Congratulations, I suppose. We had hoped that it would stay put.”

“Did you now?” he asked and turned to face her. “That would mean that our agreement was broken and that your soul is mine.”

“You interrupted my hunt,” she sighed. “Can we get to why I am here anytime soon?”

“Certainly…” he said with a dangerous smile. “Instead of skinning you and making you into a new fur rug for my throne room, and making your fine friends join the charred corpses on the wall for trying to snub me of what I was owed, I will graciously ignore this lazy little mistake. If, of course, you accept my terms.”

She sniffed and scowled at him.

“I don’t owe you anything, devil,” she said and crossed her arms over her chest. “You got your crown in the end, didn’t you?”

“Indeed, but not brought to me by you as agreed upon,” he said and smiled at her. “I find myself…unsatisfied and wanting more. Fortunately, I have use for you and I am legally in my full right to hold you accountable for this.”

“I couldn’t give less of a shit about devil laws.”

“Language,” he chided. “You will when I hurt you and the ones you hold dear. It is a simple deal, really. You will stay here with me in Avernus for an unspecified amount of time, and in return you will live a life of luxury while you do.”

She laughed and then gestured to the state she was in.

“Do I look like I care about living in luxury?” she asked. “What do you want me here for?”

His lips tugged up in a smirk and he glanced over her body.

“You’ll find out.”

She rolled her eyes.

“And if I refuse?” she asked.

“I can use the Crown to make you say yes, though I would prefer not to,” he said casually. “It would be more satisfying to avoid it.”

She narrowed her eyes at that.

“No, you can’t,” she said. “The contract stated that you could not use the Crown of Karsus to dominate mortals. I’m not immortal.”

Raphael chuckled at that.

“Had you taken the time to properly read it through, as I suggested you should, you would know that there are exceptions,” he explained. “Those who are of Infernal bloodlines are one of those exceptions. You are a tiefling, my dear.”

Fuck. She knew that he was not lying. She scowled at him. She would never have dreamed of signing if she knew that was in the contract. Tieflings somehow always got the short end of the stick. He smiled at her like the cat that got the cream, drinking up the furious expression on her face.

“So…” he said with a smile as he walked closer. “Will you be a good pup and roll over or must I tighten your leash?”

She sneered at him and her eyes darkened.

“I’m not a dog,” she said. “And should you for a second be under the false impression that you are the master of me, then I will tear you apart.”

He chuckled and ignored your threat.

“Oh, that’s right. You believe yourself a wolf, isn’t that so?” he said. “Where is your pack then, wolf? While you scour the forests for food all on your own, because you have run out of funds to feed yourself. It has only been months since you became the hero of Baldur’s Gate, and you are already right back where you started. Without possessions, without friends, without dignity, while you live like a beast rather than a person.”

“It’s a choice,” she grumbled. “And none of your business besides.”

It was, though it would be a lie to say that it had not also been a necessity. She never had much since she left her circle all those years ago. It was easier, cheaper, and freer to live in the woods.

It was also lonely. She knew she could have reached out to her old companions after their adventure, but she never did. She did not want to trouble them, and it felt safer to be alone. It had been so easy to fall into old habits.

“Here you can be so much more,” he purred. “I see potential for something great behind that beast you parade as.”

She did not answer. Raphael smiled widely and put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed.

“Do not force me to make you submit,” he said before completely changing into a lighter mood. “Now! I will have my servants prepare a bath for you. You reek. After, we will dine together. I suspect you must be hungry, since I interrupted your hunt for dinner.”

She was very uncomfortable as the servants insisted on washing her in the bath. She had tried to insist that she could wash herself, but the two tiefling women were not having it after they saw the state of her. The bath smelled of some sort of lavender oil mixed with something else. The smell was too strong and perfume-like for her liking.

When they brought out the shaving kit, it finally made her protest. She wrapped her arms around herself and stared at them as one of the servant ladies tried to pry her arm up.

“No,” Tav said stubbornly.

The woman pursed her lips and sighed.

“Please, my lady,” the woman said. “We have been ordered to.”

“No.”

The two women looked at each other as if trying to figure out what to do. They looked nervous as they did so. Tav figured that there might be consequences for them if they did not heed Raphael’s orders. She sighed in annoyance.

“Why does he want me shaved?” she asked.

“We do not know, my lady,” the other woman said. “Please. We will be careful not to nick you.”

Tav sneered and reluctantly let her arms be raised above her head so they could shave her armpits. She had grown quite hairy during her time in the woods. She preferred it that way and she could not guess why Raphael would care about it. She was not happy.

She was even less happy when there came a knock on the door. Both of the women paused their movements. One of them got up to place a screen in front of the tub. Tav looked at the both of them with a confused expression. The one of them that did not get up smiled sweetly at her.

“The physician,” she explained. “Come in!”

“The what?” Tav asked.

She heard someone enter the room.

“Good evening, my lady,” a male voice said from behind the screen. “Apologies for interrupting your bath. I need only ask you a few questions.”

Tav blinked and scrunched up her face.

“Why?” she asked. “I’m not sick or anything. What do I need to see a physician for?”

“His Grace has requested it, my lady.”

Her eyes were about to roll out of her skull when she heard Raphael be referred to as ‘His Grace’.

“Get on with it then,” she grumbled quietly.

“Do you have any allergies that you are aware of?” he asked.

“No.”

She heard a quill running over parchment as he was noting it down on the other side of the screen.

“How much do you weigh?”

“No idea. I’ve always been a bit on the heavy side.”

“Do you have any medical conditions that you know of?”

“No.”

“Has anyone in your family had any medical conditions that you know of?”

“Don’t think so.”

“Have you ever been pregnant?”

Tav raised an eyebrow at that question.

“No?” she answered.

“Have any of the women in your family had trouble conceiving?”

The questions were taking an odd turn.

“Not that I know of,” she said. “Why?”

“I am not allowed to tell you,” the physician explained and then continued his questions. “When did you last bleed?”

She huffed at that answer.

“Recently,” she said.

“How recently? Days? Weeks?”

“A bit over a week perhaps,” she answered. “Are you sure you can’t tell me? What is going on?”

“I cannot tell you,” he repeated while he was scribbling down something. “That will be all for now. I will visit you tomorrow to check your weight and height.”

She heard him get up from his chair to leave.

“Alright?” she said with a sigh and looked at the ladies on either side of her with confusion. The both of them avoided her questioning gaze.

The servants dried her off, and with some resistance from her, they got her in a dress. It was a dark blue silk dress that was supposed to ‘compliment the yellow of her eyes and the grey of her skin’. Tav thought she just looked stupid. The dress was too tight around her waist, making her hips look even wider than they already were.

When they were done with their little game of dress-up, she studied herself in the mirror with a scowl on her face. She looked ridiculous. Her body was on full display in the dress. It was not that she had ever had a problem with showing off her plumpness, but she just also had never felt the reason to pull attention to it like this. The form of her stomach was on display, and it made her feel naked.  

She was ushered through the fortress and into a large room with a table in the middle. Raphael sat at the end of it drinking wine. The table was filled with all kinds of food and drink. Raphael devoured her form with his eyes before gesturing for her to sit down beside him. She kept standing. She wanted answers first.

“What is the meaning of all of this?” she asked with narrowed eyes.

“I had imagined that you were hungry,” Raphael said and took a sip of his wine.

“You know what I mean…and I am,” she said. “But I am more starved for answers than food currently. Why am I here?”

“All will soon be revealed,” he said and gestured to the chair again. “Sit down.”

“No,” she said stubbornly.

“Sit,” Raphael said more harshly this time. “And eat. I have questions for you.”

“No,” she repeated.

Raphael waved his hand and she found herself sitting down against her will.

“Good girl,” he said as if to a dog and smiled even wider.

It pissed her off even more. A low groan of frustration escaped her, that would have been a growl if she had been in her preferred form. She thought about getting up again just to spite him but there would be no use in it. She decided to eat instead.

“Tell me about where you come from,” Raphael said and swirled the contents of his glass.

“North,” she said and pulled apart a piece of chicken with her hands.

“I had gathered,” Raphael said with a tight disgusted smile at the way she was eating. “I am more curious where your ancestry comes from.”

“North,” she repeated and shoved a piece of chicken in her mouth. “Are you asking about my tiefling ancestors?”

“Indeed,” he said.

“Don’t know,” she answered. “I just know that it’s far back and that we are Asmodeus tieflings. None of my parents are tieflings. It had skipped two generations before it appeared in me.”

“Fascinating,” he said. “One would not have guessed Asmodeus tiefling from your appearance. That grey skin of yours would have suggested Zariel.”

“My dad was a drow.”

“A bit of a mutt then,” he said with a chuckle. “That’s perfect for what I need you for.”

“A mutt? Your dog metaphors are hilarious, though they are already getting a bit old, don’t you think? Besides, it’s rich of you to call anyone a mutt when you are a cambion yourself,” she huffed. “What do you need me for?”

Her comment annoyed him, and she could see it in his eyes, though he apparently chose to ignore it.

“Oh, but the dog metaphors are so fitting for what I intend to use you for,” he said with a cruel smile. “Why else would one be keen to get their hands on a prized bitch with interesting bloodlines like yours? To breed pups, of course.”

She almost choked on the piece of chicken she was eating.

“Excuse me?”

“All the other notable archdevils have spread their lineages across your realm,” he explained. “We all have to start somewhere, of course. I cannot think of anything more poetic than the woman who helped me win my crown to be the start of my own lineage of tieflings. I am feeling rather generous so I will only demand five children out of you, and then you are free to go.”

She was dumbstruck for a moment as the information sunk in. Then she became furious.

“You would have me be a broodmare for your children?” she asked harshly. “And risk my life in the process? Are you insane?”

“If you refuse, I can have you killed for certain instead,” he said. “Or worse, I can force you.”

Her eyes glowed for a moment as she was about to lose control of her temper and transform. She dug her claws into the arms of the chair she was sitting in as she tried to calm herself before she did something stupid.

“Tieflings and cambions can produce more cambions,” she hissed. “In case you have never picked up a biology book. A swift death would be kinder than dying while trying to birth a cambion.”

“The chances are rather slim. Especially with a diluted Infernal bloodline like yours,” he explained. “Besides, I will have physicians and midwives to tend to your every need for the same reason. Does the child grow bigger than a tiefling would, we will kill it. You are too useful to me alive for me to let you die in childbirth.”

“I am not even considering this!” she yelled. “You are out of your mind.”

“Though you will consider it, because the consequences of refusing me will be much worse,” he said calmly. “I promise you, that if you simply come peacefully, no harm will come to you. I will be generous with you. I will only take you when the chances for conception are the highest. The rest of the time you will be left to yourself, free to do whatever you please.”

“Take me?” she growled. “Archdevil or not, I will tear you apart if you as much as touch me!”

Raphael sighed when he saw her eyes starting to glow in anger again, but continued explaining:

“You will have your own chambers, of course. You will be well taken care of, and the only thing you will have to worry about is your pregnancy and the birth. You will not even have to see the children after they are born either, if that is what you wish.”

She hammered her fist down onto the table and got up. She was looking at him like a woman with murder on her mind.

“Send me back,” she hissed at him. “Now.”

“No,” Raphael replied calmly with an unimpressed expression on his face.

“Send. Me. Back.”

“I wonder if you are hard of hearing or simply thick-headed,” he said and narrowed his eyes at her. “Have I not made it abundantly clear what your options are?”

“I won’t do it,” she said. “You can’t make me. Infernal law states that deals cannot be made if the other party is under duress or if the deal is signed because of death threats. That much I do know.”

Raphael chuckled.

“I am not asking you to sign a thing, my dear,” he said in a dark tone. “I already have a contract with your signature on it. Those laws are in place for those who have not yet signed. I already own you. I am in my full right to do whatever I please with you. Had you simply handed me the Crown then it would have been a different story, but you did not.”

Her realizing her predicament was the last straw. She lost her temper and in the blink of an eye she found herself in her wolf form. She had pushed away the table and the chair during her transformation. She snarled and locked her eyes on him. Then she remembers pouncing on him, though never landing before she heard a snap, and everything went black.

She woke up in a bed that she had hoped would be her own before she opened her eyes. When she did open them, she learned to her disappointment that it had not all been an odd fever dream. She was in a bedroom that was five times larger than the one she had at her home on the outskirts of Baldur’s Gate.

The bedchamber was lavishly decorated. There was a bathtub in the corner, a desk with a chair and some writing utensils on it, a large wardrobe, and a fireplace with two armchairs in front of it. She was not impressed. Lavish as it was, it did not fool her: this was a cell.

She sat up on the bed and when she moved, she felt something around her neck. Her hand went to it and found a collar around it. She touched all the way around it to find an opening or a clasp, but there were none. She pulled on it, but it did not give. She instinctively knew that it had some magical purpose, but she was not yet sure what it was.

She got off the bed to find a mirror. She found one on the desk and she saw that there was some kind of inscription on the collar. Her eyes narrowed at the Infernal letters that adorned the black collar in a golden script. Her Infernal was rusty but she did manage to put together what it said:

‘Property of the Archdevil of the First.’

She was fuming. She tugged at the collar in anger once again, still with no luck. Her eyes fell on a piece of parchment on the table. Her eyes scanned over the words, and it only managed to further stir the flames of her temper:

‘If you are to act like a beast, you will be treated as one. You are invited to dine with me tonight. I expect you to be on your best behavior or you may find yourself waking up in a cage the next time you bare your teeth at me, dog. - R”

Her breathing had quickened into furious puffs of air. Her hands clenched into fists. She would tear this room apart. She would tear him apart and paint the walls with his blood. She would devour him. She felt the familiar feeling of her druidic magic spreading through her veins.

Though something was different. The magic would not take as it usually did.

She stayed in that middle-stage of transformation. Her face fell at the realization. She tried again to turn into her wolf form, but the magic still would not take. It did not envelop her in its cold embrace of the earth clinging to her skin and changed her form like it usually did. The feeling stayed under her skin, going nowhere.

“No…” she whispered to herself. “No, no, no…”

That was the purpose of the collar. To keep her in her own form. She panicked. She paced around the room. She was missing something, but what? He had not taken her magic from her, or she would not be able to even enter transformation. The collar simply stopped the final step.

She tried turning into an owlbear instead. No luck. She tried panther, deep rothe, bear, sabre-toothed tiger, badger…No luck. Then she wondered if it could possibly have something to do with the size.

She finally tried something smaller: a cat. She finally felt the magic envelop her skin and change her form. She felt herself grow smaller and she was then standing in her furry little form on the floor. She felt some relief that it had worked and hoped for a second that she might be able to slip out of the collar, but the size of it had simply adjusted to her form. She let out a frustrated hiss.

It was something that not all of her forms had been taken from her, but she could hardly tear Raphael apart in the form of a cat. She tried the last couple of forms there were left. She could do a dire raven as well, but that was not particularly helpful either. She could not exactly fly away from the Hells. She hated feeling so helpless.

Later, the same servants from the day before came to dress her and usher her to where Raphael was. He was smiling widely at her when she entered, and his eyes went to admire the collar on her neck. She wanted nothing more than to throw an Ice Knife at his smug face, but she decided to keep the peace for now. She needed her powers back in full again.

She kept quiet as she sat down beside him, which only seemed to amuse him. She had nothing nice to say to him. She began eating with her hands as she always did.

“Ah-ah,” Raphael chided. “Fork and knife, dear.”

Her eye twitched but she kept quiet as she reluctantly dropped the food in her hands. She wiped her fingers in a napkin before grabbing the fork and knife. Her movements were clumsy when she tried to cut her meat. It had been a long time since she last had been forced to use utensils.

“Good girl,” Raphael praised in that degrading way of his. “You are quieter today. I take that you have figured out what that collar around your neck does?”

She continued ignoring him.

“I will take that as a yes then,” he said and then changed the subject. “The physician says that your fertility will be at its peak soon, so you can expect a visit from me in only a few days.”

“And you ask me to mind my table manners,” she said in a cold tone. “Don’t make me lose my appetite.”

“Oh, my apologies, dear,” he said. “I did not realize you were of such a delicate disposition. I simply mean to say that if you behave until then, I might be inclined to loosen my grip on your leash, so to speak.”

She gritted her teeth in annoyance and tried to reel back her temper.

“Will I be rid of this gods-awful collar?”

“No,” he answered. “I like it on you. It suits you. Though, I can allow you to change into whatever form you would like as long as you are on your best behavior.”

“’Allow me’…” she repeated and laughed bitterly under her breath. “Is this it then? I’m your little puppet now that you can do whatever you want to? I think I’d rather choose death if that offer is still on the table, actually.”

“Essentially, yes, you are,” he answered coldly. “And do not continue to make me repeat myself, Tav. It will not just be your death if you decide to go against me and even if it was, whatever I will put you through here will be nothing compared to the torments I will put you through after you are dead, and I get my hands on your soul. For your soul is still on the line, since you by technicality did not fulfill your contract. A technicality that I will only overlook if you do as I tell you.”

She shook her head and went quiet. She felt so hopeless. She wanted to laugh and cry and scream at the same time. She leaned back in her chair. She had barely eaten anything, but her appetite was gone.

“Can I go now?” she asked. “I am not hungry after all, it seems.”

“As you wish,” he said. “But first…”

He snapped his fingers and a vial of dark liquid appeared on the table. He took it and held it out to her.

“I will watch you drink this before you do,” he said while his orange eyes bore into hers. “A servant will bring it to you tomorrow and every day after that. They are under orders to force it down your throat if you refuse.”

She looked from him to the vial with disdain.

“Am I allowed to ask His Grace what this is?” she asked.

Raphael smiled slightly and his eyes narrowed at her.

“That cheek will get you nowhere,” he warned. “It’s a vial containing numerous things to ready your body for its purpose. I am not trying to poison you. I am trying to help you. Spare you even.”

“Spare me?” she asked bitterly.

“If I disgust you as much as you pretend, would you not find it helpful that we only have to attempt to get you with child a handful of times before we see results, instead of waiting for months?”

She looked at him and then at the vial. She sighed softly and took it from his hands. She took off the cork and smelled its contents. It had a smell that was all too sweet like fruit that was just past its ripeness. She looked at him again.

“There would be little sense in poisoning you,” he reassured her. “Now drink.”

She looked at the vial once more before downing its contents.

[borntobeslay]

| EAH AU: “You’re not scared of me..?”

Platonic Paring: Y/n Beauty x Ryujin hood

The simple story of how they became best friends…

warnings: none just fluff!

Y/n Areulia Beauty.. The daughter of Beauty and the Beast.. she was just like her mother, She loves to read!

In fact, that’s exactly what she’s doing right now! Y/n is sitting peacefully in the enchanted forest, her favorite place to read. Her glasses perched perfectly on her nose, her red and brown hair glistening in the sunlight. She continues to read as she feels the calm breeze brushing against her face, until suddenly WOOSH a large gust of wind blows past her, flipping her book pages uncontrollably. She looks up in confusion and hesitantly walks towards the fast blur running down the forest. Eventually the blur stops running and Y/n hides behind the tree curiously. Her eyes widened in shock when she saw it.

Ryujin, The daughter of “Little red riding hood” Panting and chuckling as she beat her baby pet wolf in a race. Ryujin flips down her hood to reveal wolf ears on her head, Y/n gasp in shock as she sees the sight and Ryujin turns around hearing the noise. Y/n shyly comes out from behind the tree and weakly smiles. “Uh.. Hi..” Y/n speaks up carefully, Ryujin flashes her teeth as her eyes flash gold but Y/N remains unfazed. When Ryujin sees this she calms down but still guarded. “What are you doing out here?” Ryujin asked without making eye contact, worried that Y/N is judging her. “Well.. I was reading a book and.. I saw you run by… I guess I just sorta followed..” Y/n replied with a little shy smile, she didn’t want to make Ryujin uncomfortable or feel ashamed of anything.

Ryujin sits down against the tree and sighs. “You’re not gonna tell anyone are you?” Ryujin asked with a hint of worry. If this gets out she’d be shunned by all of ever after. “Well that’s not my place. I won’t tell anyone. You do that on your own terms.” Y/n says with a small comforting smile and sits down next to Ryujin. She really is her mother’s daughter. Ryujin looks at Y/n with soft curious eyes. “Why aren’t you scared of me? If anyone else saw this, they would run away in fear..” She says with curiosity and slight caution at the fact that Y/n is so calm about it. Y/n let’s out a little giggle. “Well why would I be scared? My dad was a beast, silly!” Ryujin chuckled softly and relaxed. She forgot about y/n’s dad. “Right… I totally forgot..”

There is a moment of comfort silence before Y/n speaks up. “So… the daughter of the supposed big bad wolf… is also the daughter of little red riding hood, huh? I get why you hide it.. it goes completely against the whole fairy tale of Little Red being afraid of the wolf..” Ryujin nods weakly, feeling glad that someone gets it. “My dad isn’t bad.. He’s just a big wolf.” She chuckles weakly trying to laugh it off, but in reality she’s really upset that her dad is painted as a bad guy. “Hey… I totally get it… I think that’s so unfair how people can be so cruel and make such assumptions… my dad said a whole town mobbed his castle because of one person..” Y/n says with understanding, then she speaks up with a playful smile..

“So… what else can you do with your wolf abilities~?” Y/n asks curiously and excitedly if you couldn’t already tell, Y/n is a very curious girl. Ryujin looks at her and chuckles. “Ahh.. it’s almost too much to explain!” She says with a smile being playful. Y/n with a little mischievous grin reaches up and scratches behind Ryujin’s ear. “What about this~?” Ryujin nuzzles into her head and lets out a little sigh before snapping out of it and swatting Y/n’s hand away. “Alright that’s enough..” Ryujin says while trying to remain tough, But eventually they both break out into laughter. This is how Y/n and Ryujin became Best Friends…

A/n: So I made this one without request because.. I was bored and y’all hate me today and didn’t send Reqs 😭 anyway I hope you enjoy the beginning of the ever after high K-pop universe!

[waynes-multiverse]

Midnight Mischief

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F!Reader

Summary: Leaving Cassie’s Halloween party, the way home leads to a thrilling detour under the moonlight for Sheriff Arlen.

Warnings: +18, some Halloween shenanigans, fluff, smut (p in v, dirty talk, semi-public)

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: Little something for Halloween I wrote a few weeks ago to feed my shameless obsession with this man (and keep my excitement for Taylor’s album in check. The Cinderella thing was a happy accident 👀). Enjoy and happy Halloween, my loves! 💜👻🖤🎃

Main Masterlist || More Beau?

“Y/N, wait!”

The cold October wind rustles the red, orange, and golden leaves on the sidewalk, the freezing breeze brushing his skin and stinging his freckle-dusted cheeks and nose until they blush crimson. As Beau halts in the middle of the sidewalk and desperately catches his breath on his knees, the air vaporizes in little clouds of mist as it leaves his hot lungs.

Straightening up and placing his hands on his hips, his green eyes roam the chaotic crowd of adults and children in costumes that surround him, strolling through the neighborhood on their annual trick-or-treating adventure as he looks for the lively woman in a red cape that shamelessly stole his heart. His gaze drifts to the sky, where the full moon stands high, accompanied by a few gray clouds that cover the pale yellow light. They left the party shortly after the clock struck twelve, his date fleeing like Cinderella into the midnight’s shadows.

“BOOOOO!”

Beau startles and almost topples to the pavement when his girlfriend jumps out behind a row of hedges and wraps her arms like a spider around his body. The sweet laughter that reaches his ears is the best sound he’s ever heard in the entire world. If his life had its own movie soundtrack, Y/N’s happy laugh would be the first track without contest. The second track, though, would be her little moans whenever he makes her come, no matter if it’s on his fingers, tongue, or dick. Naturally, that’s his second favorite sound.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N,” he chuckles and runs a palm over his face to hide the temporary shock and embarrassment of her little sneak attack before dipping his head and claiming her lush lips. His tongue catches hints of apple cider and the bourbon they shared earlier at Cassie’s Halloween party as he drinks the taste from her mouth like a parched man. “You’re gonna give me a heart attack, darlin’.”

She giggles, her dimples a blush pink from the cold and the mischief. “You scare pretty easy for someone working in law enforcement,” she teases him and lifts an eyebrow, scanning his tall frame, “I can’t believe you wore your uniform to the party. You know, that doesn’t technically count as a costume.”

“Why not? I’m going as a sheriff,” he quips with a grin and slings his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to his chest to keep her warm as they continue their stroll home.

“Exactly. That doesn’t count. You’re always the sheriff,” she laughs, pulling her scarlet hood a little more over her head to protect her freezing ears.

“Well, it wouldn’t have mattered. As soon as you revealed that Red Riding Hood costume, no one was looking at me anymore, anyways,” Beau smirks smugly, his juniper orbs twinkling with pride, mischief, and lust as he inconspicuously ogles the swell of her breasts in his periphery, the smooth flesh slightly spilling out of her dress.

Her cheeks blush, but this time it’s not caused by the winter cold. Y/N pulls her lower lip between her teeth and chews flirtatiously on it, “Yeah? You like it?”

Beau lets out a low chuckle, the timbre of his voice rumbling in his chest as he stops and leans closer to her, his hot breath warming the shell of her ear when he whispers, “Oh, the big, bad wolf will show you how much he loved it once we’re home, darlin’.”

Her arms wind around his neck, letting her weight comfortably hang from his broad shoulders as she tiptoes up to his eye level. Y/N then playfully contemplates and grins broadly, “Hmmm, but why wait? A lot can happen in the woods.”

With that, she plants a wet kiss on his lips and grabs his hand, his fingers interlocking with hers as she leads him further down the street at a hurried pace. Beau doesn’t care where she takes him. As soon as he laid eyes on that girl the second they met, he knew he’d follow her anywhere, no matter where – no questions asked.

Well, some questions asked.

“Y/N, uhm, where are-… what are you-…” Leading him to the last house on the street that borders a small forest, she stops right next to a prohibitive sign that’s supposed to fend off trespassers and daringly opens the creaking wooden gate that leads to the backyard. “Y/N, this is private property. We can’t just trespass.”

“Oh my God, you’re such a goody-two-shoes,” Y/N snorts, laughing wholeheartedly, her hood sliding off her head as it dips back. Her teeth hold back her bottom lip, hiding the giant grin behind it as she defiantly steps backward into the front yard. “C’mon, baby, don’t be a chicken. Break the law a little with me,” she wiggles her eyebrows, smirking, and then loosens the ties around her ruby-red hood, the fabric leaving her shoulders and gliding to the wilted grass underneath her boots.

His heart thumps harder in his ribcage, hot blood pumping through his veins and warming his skin despite the freezing cold as his eyes rake over her perfect curves. Beau thought it was impossible to sweat in this weather, but now he knows that truly anything is possible as long as he’s with her. His pine-green orbs watch as she hops into the grown-over garden and disappears in the midnight darkness behind the building, her hips seductively swaying with every chipper step.

The home looks abandoned, rotten wood boards nailed across the windows without a single light source inside, tall grass and wild weeds reaching his knees. There’s an audible bang as the wind eerily slams a brittle window shutter, causing several shudders to run down his spine and form goosebumps on his skin.

Y/N loves to tease her boyfriend whenever she can. Beau is like a little treasure chest full of charm, happiness, and sweetness, and while his happy-go-lucky attitude fools most people, it never fools her. She knows he constantly worries about everything – but especially when he tries to hide it from her. While Beau might talk about his punch list openly, there’s an even bigger list he carries around in secret – his care list. Because Beau loves nothing more than to worry about all the things he cares with his heart and soul about – his job, his deputies, his friends, his daughter, and now even her. Y/N can see it in the brief moments when his smile falters for the shortest second, when his Adam’s apple bobs with concern whenever he assumes no one is looking, or when the usually talkative sheriff only offers one-word replies. While he would never admit to it and always brushes any worries of hers away, she still knows precisely when he’s anxious.

And this particular night, the protective father in him is worried because Emily is attending her first Halloween party, so Y/N has taken it upon herself to distract her boyfriend’s mind as best as she can. Nudity has always been the biggest selling point so far, and she knows it won’t fail her tonight, either.

Waiting patiently for him behind the house under a big oak tree, Beau soon rounds the corner with a curiously arched eyebrow, not able to resist her challenge as he plants his bow legs in front of her. “You little minx,” he smiles, happy wrinkles visible around his emerald orbs, and pecks her lips lovingly, their fingers interlacing. “You know, we could get arrested if someone catches us.”

“Starting with the dirty talk already, huh?” Y/N knows no one in this town will arrest them. One, the house has been empty since she was a child, the owners living in Nebraska now and not having visited their property in over a decade. And two, even if someone catches them, no one would care because the couple is beloved by everyone in town. So, the only thing Beau truly needs to fear is the endless teasing by Poppernak and Jenny if they do find him trespassing with his pants down, which is still a highly unlikely scenario.

Beau chuckles softly, shaking his head, “Your clean record really surprises me every time, darlin’.”

“Honestly, me too,” she grins slyly, her arms locking around his neck as she claims his plump lips, catching scents of caramel, apple, cinnamon, and chocolate. Beau always had a sweet tooth, so she wasn’t surprised when he loaded up on Denise’s spooky cookie selection throughout the night until he was close to puking. “Guess I’m good at getting out of things… or was it into things?” she muses in mock, her hand trailing down his broad chest until it reaches his slacks and palms his half-hard dick through the fabric. The longer she rubs his solid length and feels his weight and firmness in her palm, the more arousal pools between her aching thighs in anticipation.

“Shit,” Beau mutters as he loses his bearings. Y/N grins in triumph. Making a strong, proud, and tall guy like him crumble and lose his posture repeatedly might have become her favorite pastime activity since they started dating.

Surrendering, he catches her scarlet lips, his hat falling to the ground as he devours her mouth, tongue breaching inside with urgency and dancing with hers for dominance. His palms wander down to the globes of her ass and squeeze the juicy flesh over her skirt before he lifts her into his strong arms, her legs reflexively wrapping around his waist. Pressing her body firmly against the trunk of the big oak, he ceases his attack on her kiss-swollen, red-painted lips, breaths leaving their lungs in a ragged rhythm. “Alright, you win. But it’s gonna be a quickie. You’ll get your bad girl treatment once we actually make it home, baby girl.”

Knowingly, Y/N lets out an amused laugh, “Scared the neighbors will hear the slapping?”

“You bet your ass,” Beau chuckles with a smug wag of his eyebrows, the sound of his laugh so sweet and velvety it warms her heart as if someone poured a glass of milk and honey over it. His hand tenderly brushes a few rogue strands of hair behind her ear, his green eyes piercing into her soul and causing her to shudder as he looks at her intensely. “I love you… with everything I got, which I know isn’t a lot.”

Y/N smiles softly and pecks the tip of his freckled nose, her arms around his neck tightly holding onto him, chained for eternity. “Are you kidding me? I love you so goddamn much… And I love everything you give me, which is plenty, by the way. You’re all I ever wanted. It’s like someone built you just for me, y’know?”

The corners of his mouth curve up into a smile that matches hers, “Yeah, I feel the same about you, darlin’.” He kisses her lips, nibbles on the bottom one and sucks it between his teeth before placing more wet kisses down her jaw and throat until tongue and lips reach her pulse point, the gruff beard deliciously scratching her sensitive skin. “I can’t tell you how many times a day I think about this perfectly tight pussy of yours either, sweetheart. How wet are you already for me, hm?”

Dear fucking God…

Beau is much like a bear in some regard because he’s the sweetest and cuddliest man she’s ever met until she wakes him from his hibernation. Then, he will just ferociously follow the luring scent of his honey pot and take what’s his, not leaving a single drop for anyone else. Not even bear spray could get him off her now.

“Soaking, baby,” she mewls and grinds her crotch against his throbbing erection, imagining how his tip is already swollen and dripping precum for her, his salty taste always causing her to drool. “Please fuck me now. Wanna feel that thick, long cock fuck me hard and deep.”

Beau growls wantonly against her skin, his face buried in the crook of her neck, the vibrations causing the ache between her thighs to yearn for more friction. Their limbs then entangle in a frenzy, trying to shed all annoying barriers of clothing that block their treasure while still attempting to keep enough on to protect them from the freezing temperatures. The sheriff manages to free his massive cock, pants and boxers pooling by his boots as he quickly fists his length. Y/N has it a little easier, only wearing a dress and a pair of over-knee stockings, and simply pushes her black lace panties out of the way with her fingers, their bodies pushed flush against each other to keep them as warm as possible.

It’s so incredibly cold that Beau is even a little worried the solidity of his dick might suffer, but those worries are soon hushed when he enters her cozy heat, her hot cunt keeping him warm like a chimney fire. Threading his cock through her slick, the tip catches her wet and waiting entrance before he swiftly slides inside until he’s buried at the deepest spot of her pussy. Grunts, gasps, and whisper-quiet expletives are picked up by the wind and carried around the quaint garden as he fucks her relentlessly.

“Oh God… So good, baby. You always fuck me so good… always know how to take care of me,” she pants deliriously as he splits her almost in two. The stretch of his length forces her fingers to weave into his blond locks and tug on the strands until he groans against her skin. His teeth tear into her ample bottom lip in response, aware how much he loves the bits of pain in his pleasure as her fingernails scrape his scalp. “Fuck, I love that cock of yours. Every inch of you fills every inch of me, baby.”

“Shit, Y/N,” he mutters and hungrily claims her lips, his hips bucking at a faster pace and making each rough and deep thrust deliciously harder, the tight grip on her body leaving finger-shaped bruises on her delicate skin in their wake. “That filthy mouth is gonna make me bust, baby girl.”

“Don’t care. Right behind you,” she moans, her back arching against the tree trunk and scratching on the rough surface. “Might wanna cover my mouth if you’re still worried about the neighbors. Feels like a big one,” she croaks out with a panting smirk and manages to bite down on her tongue herself till she tastes bits of copper, her walls tightening around his hard cock as her orgasm threatens to spill.

“Nah, fuck ‘em. Better make sure the town knows you’re all mine, darlin’,” Beau grunts into her neck, a devilish smirk forming against her skin as he roughly kneads one tit and adjusts his angle to push even deeper. “Want you to soak my cock in your juices. Make him wet, sweetheart. Wanna feel that cunt tremble around me.”

“Oh God, Beau! Fuck, baby,” she moans loudly as she falls over the cliff into a sea of bliss, her climax rippling through every inch of her body and flooding her veins with mountains of oxytocin as she tightly holds onto him.

Beau quiets her moans with a few needy kisses, licking her sweet taste from her mouth. Four stuttering slams of his hips are all it takes until he shoots hot ropes of cum into her leaking pussy, painting her confines a creamy white as he stiffens between her thighs and lets his forehead fall against hers, a primal and deep grunt escaping his dry throat.  

Y/N softly wakes him from his daze by nudging his nose with hers, a broad smile molding into shape on her pink lips. “See? Breaking the law isn’t always bad.”

Beau snorts, chuckling, and tenderly caresses the rose-colored apples of her cheeks with his thumb. “Uh-huh, I’ll remember that one for the Christmas speech this year. Luckily, there wasn’t a ‘no trespassing’ sign on you, darlin’.”

“Oh, there will never be one when it comes to you, Sheriff Arlen,” she grins cheekily and tastes his mouth one last time before the pair finally embarks on their journey home.

Hope you enjoyed our Sheriff and some heat under the moonlight, loves! 😏🌌🌕

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[strangelockd]

Big Bad Wolf

18+ ONLY CONTAIN HEAVY FILTH & SMUTT

Pairing: Sinister!Strange x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: It's a beautiful rainy day at the Sanctum but your bored so Sinister decides to incorporate a fairy tale into the gameplay. You are all too eager to play along.

Word Count: 4.4K

Warnings: Angst, some fluff, deep love, p in v sex, creampie, swearing, Sinister is a bit of a soft!dom, pet names, oral sex (Fem. Receiving), Fingering, No condoms, porn with plot, praise kink, daddy kink

A/N: This smutty story has been rotting in my brain since I first laid eyes on this man. His hands always behind his back like a hunter hunting down his prey. I instantly fell in love with him. He will always be my fictional husband. The song that inspired the story while I was writing is Daddy by Ramsey. I feel like it fits his character so much. Its also my first smutt fic so please be gentle with me.

I really do hope you enjoy it.

Candles flickered in the Sanctum causing soft light to dance about the walls. Lightening cracks causing heavy raindrops to beat and bleed against the window resembling the seal of Vishanti. Lounging on a velvet chair reading your favorite book you propped your feet up off the cold wooden floor. Enveloped by a thick heavy red velvet blanket, it was so warm and inviting, it couldn’t be a more relaxing day. You take a break from reading to admire Sinister across from you, his spindly legs crossed and stretched out on the chair while reading, a look of pure contentment on his face. Candlelights illuminating his sharp angular features, you couldn’t believe how handsome he was, you felt like the luckiest woman in the world. This handsome man chose you above everything in the multiverse. Looking at him with a heart full of love, you couldn’t help but notice how adorable he was while mouthing the words when he reads. Stroking his disheveled beard  he was reading what appeared to be a Fairy Tale novel bounded in thick leather. His brows always coming close together when in deep focus. Biting your lower lip you began feel a deep need that you refused to fight. You wanted him to stroke something else of yours….

Setting the book down on the small table next to you, the candles danced at the sudden movement. Stretching your arms up to give a small yawn you looked at your lover and smirked to yourself, having a better idea in mind to spend the afternoon. Standing up from the chair you wrapped the blanket around you to keep as much warmth as possible. Quietly walking towards your husband you stood behind him reading over his shoulder. Nuzzling your face into his neckline where a freckle meets the collar of his robes you bit little nips into his neck, smoothing the sharp pain with your warm wet tongue. Then taking your palms you ran them down his chest feeling the texture of his dark blue robes that covered his hard toned chest underneath. Deeply inhaling his warm flesh you couldn’t help but be intoxicated by him.

A deep moan rumbed from his throat; closing the book he sat it next to him, he clearly got the hint. “Is my kitten in need of some attention?” Responding with slight breathlessness. “I’m bored,” giving your best pouty face. Taking his scarred slender hands he rubbed them up your arms. His black wedding band shimmering in the light, he pulled you onto his lap. Lacing arms around his neck you nuzzled noses, lips just a whisper away from each other. Gazing into your eyes with deep affection he softly lunged towards your mouth kissing you in such fervent passion--with a need that your all to familiar with. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have you as his bride.

 Tongue dancing lightly against your lower lip beckoning you to have them parted. You opened your mouth and invited the warmth of his tongue. The familiar sweet taste along with the scruffiness of his facial hair caused the wetness to pool in your panties. You crossed your legs over to straddle him, rocking your hips back and fourth very slowly, trying to get some friction while feeling the familiar stiffening below your ass. Pulling away from your mouth he lifted your hand that carried your matching wedding band and kissed upon it. Continuing to kiss each knuckle till he reached your palm, his beard tickling your delicate skin, only to return back to your mouth. His velvet lips began to clash with yours harder, and you both became overwhelmed with yearning. He preceded to trail love bites along your jawline leading down the your breast. Placing tiny nips along your petal soft flesh. A small moan escaping your lips you tilted your head back in sudden ecstasy, giving him more leeway to reach all of your engorges zones.

You were obsessed with his hands, but you had a soft spot for his goatee. The way it trails down your neck leaving sensitive patches of red on your flesh. His arms locking you in tightly; like you were a dream he never wanted to wake from, he always made you feel safe. Releasing yourselves to catch your breath you rest your forehead against his and you couldn’t help but profess, “Its just that…Im  really wet and I need you”. His cerulean eyes now shimmering with mischief, a smirk drawing across his lips showing a sexy grin that always made you blush. “that can be arranged darling, but I have a better plan. Why don’t we make a little game out of this day?”

Raising an eyebrow with a hint of suspicion you took the bait. “What did you have in mind?” Softly guiding  you off of his lap, adjusting his stiffening trousers he grabbed your hand and walked you past the cluttered instruments and relics scattered around the sanctum, only to stop at the foot of the wooden stairs. Feeling his soft slightly blackened digits grab your chin with his thumb and index finger he looked deep into your eyes gently stroking your chin with his thumb. “Well I was reading the most intriguing story my love, you ever play the children’s game of hide and seek? Well, my fantasy has always been to incorporate that into the fairytale The Little Red Riding Hood. I’m particularly fond of the wolf and with that blanket you look deliciously like Little Red.”With a slide of his fingers purple magic enveloped you, manifesting your loungewear into a risqué little red riding hood dress. The black corset tightly snuggling your breasts together with the cream dress barely covering your ass high up on your thighs, completing the look with a red hooded cloak, black laced garter belt and knee-high white stockings. Bending forward to adjust your stilettos you gave a twirl for Sinister, noticing his eyes widen with hunger.

He grabbed your ring finger kissing up your arm and gave you another twirl. He pulled you to his chest and Slowly laced his arms around your waist and began to gently sway together, his dark robes swishing with the movement. Craning his head down to kiss and suck on your neck, you closed your eyes leaning your head back against his strong shoulder for him to whisper into the shell of your ear “ I cannot wait to devour you, you’re absolutely delectable,” taking a deep inhale of your hair he slowly grazed his palm to lift your dress ever so slightly to reveal you wearing nothing underneath . Groping your ass giving your earlobe a slight nip emanating a squeak from your lips.

Turning around to face Sinister, you rested your hands on his chest to playfully ask, “shall we set up the ground rules? I know that must be a foreign concept for you Doctor, but its only fair.” He pulled away and slowly walked back and fourth, hands never leaving his back. Chuckling lightly he twitched his lips creating a menacing grin ,“Well my pet, the obvious thing is that I turn around close my eyes and count to one. You’ll go and hide anywhere in this haunted house, its yours for the choosing. Ill then proceed to hunt you down like the wolf that I am, and if I win I get my reward.”  Stopping dead in his tracks he slowly turned to look at you, cocking an eyebrow gazing with a hungry glare causing your cheeks to blush a deeper crimson. Feeling your heartbeat accelerate,  goosebumps were beginning to form on your flesh. You knew damn well how this was going to end and you couldn’t contain the wet heat beginning to moisten your inner thighs.

…..

 

You tried your best to contain your giggles while quickly scouting for a place to hide. “57 …58 …” his voice playfully trailing off in the distance. Making the best attempt to prevent your heals from clicking on the heavy wooden floorboards you came across his office. Feeling the adrenaline start to kick into your system you quickly scanned the room noticing the huge black wooden desk along with a large floor to ceiling mirror conveniently placed across from it. Hmmm thats new….Squatting down to get on your hands and knees you crawled to securely tuck yourself underneath it… perfect. Attempting to steady your breath you heard, “Ready or not here comes the wolf.” A huge smile coming across your face you covered your mouth to quiet your giggled breaths.  “Come out…come out…wherever you are…” speaking in a sing songy tone. Sinister’s heavy boots creaking on the floorboards, he was close.

Peaking a eye through the crack of the desk he finally made it into the room. Pacing slowly around looking everywhere he could think of, hands still never leaving his back. He was heavy into the game keeping a stalking pace. Like a lion hunting for his prey, he was enjoying the thrill of the chase. “You can’t hide from me kitten, you know daddy will find you eventually.”

Turning to face the desk scanning the parameters and he noticed a bit of red hooded fabric sticking out from underneath the front of his desk. Eyes now glistening, his mouth twitched into a smirk at the corner of his lips….I found you kitten. Footsteps trailed out the room, you leaned your head against the heavy wood closing your eyes to catch your breath. YES! Looks like I have outsmarted him…in the blink of an eye Sinister manifested behind the desk squatting down to face you dead into your startled eyes. You yelped loudly, “BOO! Looks like the wolf caught his little red!” he declared with a snarl. Striving to crawl out of the desk he grabbed you buy the waist, his fingers digging into your delicate soft flesh. “Your not getting away from me that easy darling, this wolf is hungry for your sweet pussy and I’ve earned my reward.”

Releasing some playful giggles he hoisted you up like you weighed nothing and firmly laid you on top of the desk. Leaning back you couldn’t help but stare into his eyes, they always shimmered a brighter blue when aroused. He didn’t waste any time diving down to your sopping heat. Devouring your nectar like a starving man he ran his hands up and down your thighs. Feeling your stockings rip and the garter belt snap, he was feral and began to use his mouth to start tongue fucking you. The long goatee felt amazing against your sensitive mound. You needed more friction and you needed it now. Peaking up from your dress, his nose and beard now glistening with your arousal he crawled up to grab your cheek; claiming your mouth as his. Tasting and smelling yourself on his tongue you both shared a loud moan. He pulled away and with a husky whisper, “Taste what I do to you darling, fuck you are a work of art.” 

You let out a whimper at his praise while moving to arch your hips begging him to go further, “Tsk tsk, Feeling impatient are we?” Speaking smugly. You bit your lip and smiled while he began stripping off his bracers to toss them aside only to proceed in rolling up his sleeves to his elbows, revealing his taut forearms. He dove back down to reach deeper into your warm center. His flattened tongue licking from the base of your entrance, landing on your sensitive bud to suck and lick with slow repeating sensual circular motions. You leaned arching your back in pleasure with a responsive moan. Stephen was a God with his hands, but nobody can hold a candle to his tongue. Glancing to the side you couldn’t help but stare into the mirror, watching him devour you through the looking glass was highly arousing; it made your nipples start to harden and your center to moisten more.

Feeling his tongue shallowly penetrate your core he moved a hand to reach for your clit. Lifting his head to watch your pleasure, he moved his hand to caress your thighs bringing them softly back to your mound; using circular motions with his thumb to set a steady rhythm. “Keep your eyes on me kitten”, which snatched you out of your reverie only to intensely lock eyes, “yes daddy.” He released a low rough grunt of approval, taking two digits to plunge  them into your wet hole making  you groan in satisfaction. Arching his fingers pulling them in and out if you, it was causing a wet noise that sounded so obscene yet sexy. It felt like heaven. Moaning sweet nothings into the room you felt your face and chest flushed along with a warm feeling in your stomach, your climax was drawing dangerously near and he knew it. Sinister can read your body like brail and He was always a master with his hands.

Inhaling your scent he released a deep growl causing it to vibrate through your cunt making you shiver, “Fuck kitten I could just eat you alive.” He Leaned up to attempt at removing the top layer of his robes. But you shot up quickly to reach for his belt, pulling his body in between your legs, “allow me,” his arms outstretched he nodded in compliance mouth agape with pupils blown wide. You threw the red hood on top of the desk chair and began to slowly unfasten his belt in a teasing way. His lust filled eyes never leaving you, he was growling with impatience causing you to give a smirk. You loved pushing his limits. The leather belt echoed hitting the floor while you rushed to shed off the top layer of his tunic. You loved all the layers of Sinister’s wardrobe, when you fucked it was like unwrapping a present. He shed his undershirt revealing his taut lean frame that carried many scars along his chest causing you to hitch your breath. How was he always so breathtaking….placing kisses on each scar gently you released a pleasing hum, “I love you, your absolutely breathtaking do you know that.” Without missing a beat he gently guided you back down; cupping your face to trace gentle rubs along your lips planting a tender kiss on them to profess softly, “I was going to say the same thing about you…I love you more, in this life and in the next.”

Giving out a sigh of pure happiness, you sucked on this thumb making him release a animalistic growl. He always knew how to worship and make you feel like the goddess you are; he never faulted in showing it. Feeling impatient he leaned back and snapped his fingers to magic the rest of his clothing off. You couldn’t help but stare in awe, he was the perfect size and length, it was like he was crafted for you from the gods. You couldn’t wait for him to stretch your tight pussy. “Oh my, what a BIG cock you have,” playfully remembering your roll. “All the better to fuck and fill you with my dear”,  Leaning back over you to give an open mouthed kiss along your jawline. Gently tugging his goatee giggling “What BIG teeth you have,” he quickly bit into your collarbone leaving a big purple blemish “All the better to mark you with.” Giving a few jerks to stimulate himself he started working on removing your corset, the tremors in his hands struggled with the hooks on the front. Feeling him paw at your breasts through the thin fabric, “What BIG hands you have”,“All the better to feel you my darling” While giving them a tight squeeze. 

Growling in frustration he lost his patience, taking a firm grip on both sides he ripped your corset in half causing your tits to bounce out, your whole form becoming completely exposed for him. The sudden cold made your already budding nipples unbearably stiff. You grabbed your breasts to massage and juggle them, biting your lower lip to put on a sexy show for him. Sinister growled and took your nipples and began massaging and tugging with his thumb and index fingers. With a whisper his baritone voice leaning into your ear, “Fuck your just so beautiful….my goddess of a wife, your mine forever.” Basking in the praise letting out a pornographic moan of pleasure, your eyes began to roll back and your mouth forming an O. Chuckling at your reaction, it turned him on knowing he was the only one that got you off, "you don’t seem to be scared of your bad wolf, you should know better. You know I have a big cock to fuck you with right, thats all you want, to be devoured by the bad wolf." “Yes Mr.Wolf please fuck me, fuck me hard with your giant cock” You begged. 

Hands trailing down your naked form he grabbed his cock and started to slide it between your folds, lubricating himself before he made his way into your entrance. Moaning in protest you bucked your hips up towards him, with a malicious grin on his face he was enjoying the payback. “That’s right kitten, moan for me.” He slid into your entrance painfully slow at first savoring every inch of you swallowing him whole. Wincing at the sharp pain of his thick veined cock stretching you impossibly full it felt sensational. Quickly pausing and looking with concern he cupped your face, “Im not hurting you am I my love?”, “Fuck no” you coaxed. Giving a wink he chuckled “that’s my girl” and snapped back into the moment beginning to pick up his thrusting, hips dipping and rocking back and fourth always hitting you just right. Shoulder and arm muscles tensing up in the heat of the moment he couldn’t help but stare at were your bodies  joined. He loved it when your cunt swallowed him whole. The sound of smacking flesh echoing in the sanctum only encouraging him to drill harder into you.

Continuing to bottom you out he grabbed both sides of the desk for leverage and stability before he started fucking you in a pace you didn’t think was possible. He repeatedly kept hitting your sweet spot over and over causing you to see white stars and your eyes rolled back in pure ecstasy. Impulsively wrapping your legs around his hips, the heels helping to lock your ankles in place. “Ffffffuuuccckk.” moaning as your eyes fluttered closed. “That’s right kitten, moan for daddy”, “You feel so fucking good Stephen…so good.” Groaning at the praise he leaned over to pepper your body with kisses, never missing a thrust. Feeling your cunt stretch around him he never thought something could feel so good. Formed together your lovemaking was like heroin, one hit and you both always needed more. Keeping up the rhythm repeating his thrusts you felt your walls begin to quiver. He pulled out of you, your sopping core making a lewd popping sound causing you to stammer in protest. He walked to the big leather chair and sat down stretching his arm out to gesture his fingers in a come hither motion . “Come here my love, come fuck on daddy’s lap.” 

You slid the tattered costume off your shoulders and made your way over to Sinister, swinging your legs over to straddle him. Stroking his cock he helped position himself for you, eyes fixated on your beautiful form. Grabbing his shoulders for balance you slowly lowered yourself onto his cock causing a small hiss to emanate from his mouth. “Shit kitten, your pussy is still so tight. How are you doing this to me?” “Well Doctor your not the only one with tricks up his sleeve” winking at him you felt his member twitching inside you. Whimpering in satisfaction he tilted his head down to suck on your breast that were on full display in front of him.  He began with the right, biting hard enough to leave more purple blossoms on your flesh. He loved your breasts and he loved even more to mark you as his. Despite the universe being void of life, he still wanted you to have a reminder that you were his and his alone. He then preceded to suck tenderly on your nipple, tongue flicking and moving in circular motions. He continued on the other breast giving it equal amount of attention and care.

Feeling his facial hair tickle you he smirked against your chest to look up and gaze at you directly in your eyes. You felt a strange new sensation almost like and electric vibrating tingle on your nipple. He was using magic from his mouth to stimulate you. Emanating a needy moan from your lips. “Fuck baby this is new… it feels so…so fucking good” you tilted your head back and laced your fingers into his hair and began tugging in response. “Use me my pet pull my hair make me suffer for I am at your mercy, and you’ve possessed me with your witchcraft.” Obeying your husbands command you rocked back and forth on his cock, pulling tight on his hair causing his head to tilt back baring his teeth and delicious adams apple. Leaning down continuing to leave bite marks and hickies all over his neck marking him as well. “Fuck kitten” in a desperate filthy noise, “just like that please don’t stop.”

You carried on with your sensual pace and ground into him. Realizing to yourself that this was rough sex but this position wasn’t a fucking, Sinister wanted you to make love to him to savor every moan, every motion burning into his photographic memory. Feeling his pubic hair giving more friction to your clit you began to move back in forth at a more ardent pace. Sweat running down your chest’s Sinister was growling at this point and took the opportunity to lick the sweat trickling down your breast, simultaneously grabbing your hips to aid in guiding you. Scarred fingers digging into your flesh he began lifting your hips all the way up to the very tip and slam yourself back down, repeating the motion faster till you felt his cock twitch more. Rocking your hips in a circular motion rising yourself up and down, feeling every savory inch of his cock inside of you. He Stretched you out to the perfect form. “Im going to come but you will finish with me you got that,” you spoke with a heightened panting tone. “Anything for you my angel.” Eyes locked while nodding in agreement, you both were close to your climax, but you wanted to come at the same time. 

Trying your best to keep up the fast motions you noticed the pace was starting to wear off. Fucking him faster like a madwoman you got this sudden possession over you. Going up and down and such a insane pace, your tits bouncing up and down once again hearing the slapping of wet flesh. Keeping the heels on came in handy after all, it helped with the anchoring of your body. “That’s right little red, come on the wolfs cock. I want your mess all over me. I am right after you.” That was enough to tip you over the edge. Keeping your eyes still locked to maintain the intimacy you gave out a screaming moan feeling your walls tighten and flutter emanating a gushing sensation to flow from your core, you squirted all over his thighs. Sinister howled with pleasure and felt his climax reach, seeing stars he leaned his head back, cum spouting thick white threads of semen into your wet heat filling you whole. “Fuck.. oh my sweet girl your so good to me taking my milk. Nobody does it better then you.” Grabbing the back of your head he gave the deepest most passionate kiss in the world that nobody can ever top.

Still feeling his semi erect shaft in you you leaned your head against his with a smile of contentment catching your breath, “that was…….amazing”, taking his hands to support your back “yes yes it was, we should do this again.” Giggling to Sinister while clinging to his chest like a koala he grabbed the red hooded cloak behind him and wrapped it around the both of you, forming a cocoon. Despite his rugged persona, Sinister always loved to extend the intimacy after sex. After all, he hasn’t had human contact in many many years. Snuggling into his chest he rested his chin on top of your head. Playing with his hair as you always did after sex or before falling asleep. It was comforting to you knowing he always made you feel safe. “I don’t deserve a wife like you. You know that right.” He confessed with a soft tone. “And I don’t know what I did for the gods to bless me with such a perfect husband. Call it destiny or fate I wouldn’t change a single thing. You always deserved me. I always deserved you. You are my home Stephen Strange.”

He hugged you tighter with the sentimental profession. You began to feel warm tears trickle on your shoulder. Stephen never showed vulnerability with the exception of you even before the incursion. You came into his world of darkness and brought light not just into his fractured world, but his heart. He never thought he would be deserving of love again but the beauty tamed the heartless beast.You became his home and his eternal hope as well, that was something he could never repay. Wiping away his tears with a thumb you gave him a deep kiss. Soft yet tenderly parting your lips your tongues danced once again. You always wanted to show him that he was safe and that he was the only thing that mattered. Keeping the red hood wrapped on he pulled out of you causing you to wince. He swooped you up bridal style and began to walk towards the door. “Where are we going?” You asked nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck with a sleepy tone. “Were taking a long lavender soaked bath, we deserve it and then I’m taking you to bed. We can worry about sleep later.” “I love that idea Stephen”, “ and I love you, I love you in every universe (y/n)…..always have and always will.”

Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! I will love to read all of your comments and opinions. It inspires me to keep writing

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[littlefreya]

The Big Bad Wolf

Summary: If there is anything August enjoys it’s breaking those who resist him. Now trapped in his little cage, the little bird has no where to fly to.

Prompt:

I always found the idea funny of August breaking a strong girl. similar to Ingvild. but like she is one of his strongest Apostels and fights by his side. She's unstoppable but August just looks at her and is like 'yep this girl definitely got some issues lets tell her she's our good girl and make her kneel'

Pairing: August Walker x Original Female Character (3rd person pov)

Word count: 1.7K

Warnings: 18+, abuse of power, rough cage fucking, hatesex, unprotected sex, hinted breeding, risky creampie, possessive behaviour. On the safe side it’s borderline dub-con.

A/N: Got inspired by the prompt and by watching Mi6 for the 700th time. That scene gave me ideas and look where we are today. Many thanks to my love @agniavateira​ for beating my work.

Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed. Your feedback is my fuel. 🖤

Title: The Big Bad Wolf

August Walker admires a good challenge mainly because he always gets what he wants, either by the sweetness of his maw or the sharpness of his fangs. This time, the presented game at hand is indeed a fine one to be played: a woman so hateful, her blazing glare makes smouldering coals gather in the sour pit of his gut. 

He calls her the ‘Spawn of Lilith.’ Nothing but another entitled little brat. She forgets who she works for, but he would be there to give her a keen reminder. Hell, he is going to catch up with her, and when he does, it’s going to hurt. 

Even if it means he’ll have to char the flesh right off her bones. 

And so, he lurks in the shadows like an incubus. Watching, waiting for the moment when they are completely alone in the Apostles’ little underground hideout—a hidden cavern dug into onyx iron rocks and smooth oceanic minerals somewhere over the bleak Irish sea.

Even alone, she walks about as if she is the queen of his unnamed kingdom, her icy exterior growing icicles at the ceiling of the claustrophobic chamber while August seethes beneath his skin. Holding himself around her for months has been hard in many ways yet tonight, the opportunity presents itself like a gift wrapped up in a red little bow; his little glacier of a woman has literally walked herself into a trap. 

Unaware of August’s presence, she stands inside the cage where they store their ammunition and equipment. Too busy running through logistics, she doesn’t hear the careful footsteps that wander to join her inside.

When the metal bars rattle and slam behind her she almost gives out a squeal. Dropping the chart and her pen, she throws her head over her shoulder and immediately rolls her eyes. There he is again, that fucker, leaning against the shut door with his hands behind his lower back and a mist of lust clouding his furrowed gaze. 

She knew this day would come. She felt the way he covets her; perhaps in her most forbidden, unspoken dreams, she summoned him too. She hates everything about this and more than anything, she hates herself for the sweat gathering between her thighs.

August Walker, the shaggy canine beast. His eyes flare like volcanic stones as they wander languidly, while the tip of his serpentine tongue slithers across his lips. She swears she can see saliva dripping down his dimpled chin while he takes her in as if she was some forbidden delight. 

He would devour her alive, rip, tear, and swallow the remnants of her bones and then use one of her ribs to pick his teeth clean.

“Are you going to make this harder than it already is?” He asks, voice as calm as a fucking bomb.

Without batting an eyelash she shifts her posture, crossing her arms together and clenching her jaw. “The fuck do you want, Lark?”

“Hmm,” he groans softly and moves himself from the gate, long confident strides bringing him closer to his object of desire. He circles her for a moment, inhaling sharply as if he can smell the dew between her inner thighs. 

“You know what I want kitten,” he responds with a pause, pushing his tongue between his teeth, his glare fixed on her groin. “Bend over.”

“No.” 

With a spiteful smirk smearing her lips, she turns away from him—a costly mistake. Before she manages to return to her task, August's large claw clutches her shoulder, slamming her against the bars. His foot kicks her legs apart while he nuzzles her temple and huffs like a ravenous animal.

In her despair she whimpers, both out of protest and the undeniable desire to be fucked selfishly by a very dangerous, bad man.

“You’re saying no to me? I own this whole operation. That means, I fucking own you. And I take what’s mine whenever the fuck I want.”

Hanging onto the cold bars, she swallows the lump in her throat and closes her eyes. Her hatred toward him knows no bounds but her body is poisoned by the type of yearning only demonic possession can explain. It taints her with self-loathing, though if there’s anything that August taught, it’s that desire always triumphs above logic and reason.

It won’t do her any good to resist him anyway. 

Body arching, she sticks her ass against his rigid bulge, grinding back and forth. Fuck, she could swear he is harder than the iron in her grip. Her cunt already milks at nothing in preparation for the softness of his flesh and the thought of its warmth ploughing her open.

“Get it over with, porn ‘stache!” She spits.  

His growl clatters the bars like the tail of a rattlesnake. Unceremonious, he forces her trousers and panties down to expose her ass while urgently fumbling with his belt. The sound of the buckle clicking behind her sets ripples of need down her soaking mound. Lungs shrinking, she twists her sweaty palms around the bars and gasps, waiting to feel him stuff her with his huge cock.

August spits on his fingers, briefly lubricating himself before he parts her cheeks and penetrates her tight little slit with a loud grunt.

“Fuck!!!” They scream in unison, stilling and leaning against one another with the astonishment of two bodies mingling into one. This carnal function is beyond their sentiments and despise of each other. Pulsating heat, desire, and barbaric friction reduce them to nothing but primitive beings, grinding against one another in search of both heaven and hell.  

‘Oh, baby, hell is a place on earth.’

Like a wolf in a gentleman’s clothing, August reveals his true savagery. The elegant suit and slick haircut are but a mask of phantasm to the bloodthirsty animal that dwells beneath the surface. Wrapping a hand around hers, he holds her in place and begins rutting fast and hard, revelling in the screams and helpless sobs sputtering from her lips as his cock forces her to stretch. Every thrust further expands her for him, forcing her to become his vessel. With August’s girth pulsating inside her lonely crease, she is stripped of the remaining tendrils of resistance. Sooner than imagined, she is swaying along, moving to accept every inch like a wanton slut. 

Oddly enough, he is anything but the lame fuck she believed him to be.

“Lark,” she chants breathless, “harder!”

August chuckles at her pleas and slams his hips into her trembling ass. “Not such a cold bitch now, aren’t you?” He rasps, bottoming in, reaching a spot inside her so sensitive, tears follow from her eyes.

“You like this, huh? Like it when the big bad fucks you? I can feel your hot pussy clenching around me as if your life depends on it, swallowing my cock like a desperate little whore.”

Her answers are pitiful moans, her hands sliding lower on the sweat-slicked metal. The war to remain strong and agile falters as August rails her body the way a predator shakes its prey in order to stun it. At this moment she is heedless, surrendering to the carnal needs of a man who’d take the same pleasure in killing her as much as screwing her. 

“You are mine now, you understand?” Increasing the pace into a punishing rhythm, he reaches one hand to grab her neck, squeezing and leaning her head against his chin. “I’ll take this from you whenever and wherever I want. Maybe even put a little collar around that neck of yours to mark you.”

The cage suddenly feels smaller than it is—flesh and iron close all around her, August consumes and inhabits every pore of her skin.

“No...” she mumbles, but her voice breaks into a peal of shuddering gasps as August shifts to bounce her vigorously onto his swelling lust, proving a point of who’s in charge. The familiar symphony of senses begins to quickly swim through the base of her loins, spreading like colourful heat as he buries himself so deep she can feel him in every inch of her soul. 

Drowned in a mist of pure delirium, his name spills from her lips. She sends her hand to the back of his head and crashes like the waves that collapse on the rocks outside. Her treacherous womb draws August near, her pulsating canal threatening to make him one with her body. 

Although he planned to pull out, his hips falter and he pushes himself the deepest he can. The aching tip of his cock kisses at the wall of her womb and empties himself, hot and thick with a shuddering grunt. Hand clutched around her belly, he holds himself deep, huffing against her hair until his milky seed begins seeping out from around his cock and trickles down her shuddering thighs.

“Fuck, I needed that.” August pants. He leans to kiss the back of her head and then nudges his nose into her scalp like some sick animal. The scent of her lavender shampoo, sea mist, and acrid sweat pervade his nostrils; he inhales further the sweet aroma of victory when a sudden dry blow hits him in the abdomen. 

“I fucking hate you, you fucking dog!” She hisses, forcing him to pull out with an amused, taunting chuckle. His steel-blue eyes fall on the battered hole between her legs, feeling proud as his thick semen oozes out before she pulls her pants back on. She turns to look at him with whispering embers for eyes.

Tucking himself back into his trousers, August follows her with his gaze, watching how she scampers for the gate and battles with the handle to escape this prison of disgrace.  

“Better get some rest, pet. I’ll come for more later tonight,” he calls toward her with a promise as he rolls himself against the metal rods and sighs.

Finally managing to free herself, the door opens with a loud screech. She means to flap her wings and fly but then pauses and throws August a spiteful glance. The grin spreading on his face seems almost endearing, his large dimples deep and his cobalt eyes shining like a child’s who just got a puppy for Christmas. 

“Don’t worry,” he chimes, exposing those big white fangs. “I will bite.”

[giorno-plays-piano]

Heartache

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Soldat!Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, kidnapping, captivity, torture, brainwashing, delusional Bucky.

Words: 2535.

Summary: You don't need the one whose name was Bucky Barnes, a hundred years old broken man who returned back to the world that couldn't offer him anything but regrets and nightmares. You need your Soldier, the one who won't return to you even if you throw Bucky back into that iron chair and fry his brains for the thirtieth time.

P.S. I have to say it turned out darker than I expected. Attention! Bucky is free from his programming, but he does not heal as he should. 

__________________

“You look old.”

You decide to give him the pleasure of hearing your voice. It sounds dull from behind the glass when Bucky comes closer, looking at someone he recognizes too well, but you do not recognize a man he became, nothing reminding you of the one with whom you once shared your bed.

You know what the man looking at you through the glass thinks. You didn’t age a day since the last time he saw you, and while he knows why, it still surprises him to see a young woman watching him calmly as if all those years didn't pass.

“You miss your star.” You say, tilting your head to the side and narrowing your eyes at him when you see his new vibranium arm.

“It doesn't matter.” His answer is immediate, and Bucky isn't surprised to hear the raw anger in his own voice: he is no longer the Soldier you knew, and he is worried he won't find a way to interact with you. You don't seem too interested in Bucky Barnes and whoever he works for despite the fact you are hardly HYDRA's soldier yourself.

What he doesn't know is that you still stay the soldier you have been once, and nothing will ever change that regardless of whoever Bucky Barnes sends your way to cure you from HYDRA's conditioning.

"I'm glad you remember me."

You find it peculiar: a man who has been trying so hard to get rid of anything that ties him to the Winter Soldier has been looking for you for years, finally tracking you down, capturing you and bringing you here as if your pure existence didn't remind him of the worst years of his life. What did he expect to find? A comfort in someone who once had been paired with him just for the sake of research?

"Don't bother, Mr. Barnes. There's nothing there left for you."

You see he's taken aback because you have hit a nerve. Apparently, James Buchanan Barnes thought the connection between the two of you remained the same, and he could dig up the feelings that had long been buried. Stupid, you think, he's forgetting the most important part: he is not the man you formed the bond with. You don't need the one whose name was Bucky Barnes, a hundred years old broken man who returned back to the world that couldn't offer him anything but regrets and nightmares. You need your Soldier, the one who won't return to you even if you throw Bucky back into that iron chair and fry his brains for the thirtieth time.

It doesn't matter. After all those years you didn't believe in happy endings, and even if the man watching you through the glass think he is going to get one after getting out, he is clearly deluding himself.

Averting his eyes, Bucky clears his throat and changes the topic, trying to give himself a false hope he can mend things. “I will convince Shuri to treat you. She helped me break through the conditioning, and she will do the same to you."

You could raise your brow at him, but maintaining this facade is tiresome and doesn't make sense. "I see you have no idea how much my conditioning differs from yours. You can't break through it. It's embedded in me."

"I thought so, but I got rid of mine. You can do it too, I'm sure."

Although you see him trying to assure you, Bucky's getting agitated because he really has no idea what HYDRA did to you. He couldn't know it when he still was the Soldier, but now the lack of his knowledge leads you to the thought your former masters destroyed whatever info they still kept - they foresaw he would search for you.

"Your brainwashing was flimsy. I've always wondered how come you were considered HYDRA'S greatest assassin when you just needed to see your dear friend once to start getting your memories back." You snort, knowing Bucky would feel a slight hint of jealousy in your voice, but you don't care: you've never hid from him you only needed the Winter Soldier, and he was gone.

Bucky doesn't know what to say as a part of him wants to scream there was nothing flimsy about electroconvulsive therapy he went through over and over again, but he looks at you and sees how different you are from him, having no memories of your own, not knowing even your name or the place where you came from. It doesn't scare him, but the fact you had long merged with the Soldier you've become does. You don't separate yourself from her the way he did. In fact, the Soldier had completely absorbed your true persona, and Bucky doesn’t know the real you. He only knows RED, a Soldat who at one point was been created by HYDRA just like all of them were. Despite searching for the information about your past for years, he found nothing, not even the year when you became a part of the organization. Bucky doesn’t think you did it willingly judging by the fact how you reacted when he had been training you among the other Soldiers, but he can’t be sure.

You’re a ghost. None of the masters who had been giving you orders know anything about you except your specialization and things you can do. Bucky supposes there were once people who knew the truth, but all of them are probably dead since the ones he has captured were utterly useless. His only hope is Shuri who might bring whatever is left somewhere deep inside your mind to the surface, yet he isn’t sure she will take you: the more you talk, the more it becomes clear you will not ask her to do it willingly, and Shuri won’t like that. The redemption can only be granted to someone who asks and works for it.

You don’t seem the type.

“What do you want me to do?” He asks you quietly, his forehead almost touching the glass separating you two when Bucky watches you with that pathetic expression of his. “If I let you go, you will return to people you serve. If I bring you to police, you will end up in a lab in the hands of the government.”

You allow him to see your smile as you observe him, desperately hoping you will tell him you will come back to the good guys and stay with him, playing a role of his funny little girlfriend because Bucky Barnes cannot allow himself to form an adequate relationship with any woman who has not been tainted the way he was. It probably seems so tragic to him that he had to spent years trying to catch you.

Although the chair you’re bound to doesn’t let you stand and come over to him, you still lean closer to the window, wearing the same polite but welcoming smile you used to lure your targets closer to you.

“I want you back in that chair, going through the whole process of brainwashing again until you become the Soldat you’ve been. I want you standing with me and feeling as much pain as I did until your sensitivity goes down to zero, and you no longer remember those funny friends of yours. I know you won’t trade your freedom and whatever else you have after getting out, but I don’t need James Buchanan Barnes or White Wolf or whoever you have become. I am RED of HYDRA, and I have bonded with the Winter Soldier you buried, Bucky.”

When he leaves, the massive metal door getting locked ten times the least, you stare at the grey wall beside the glass. You wonder how getting the privilege of remembering his past made him so miserable, a pathetic, broken man who did not understand how lucky he had been, not only breaking free from HYDRA’s grip but gaining his true identity back. He probably pitied himself, poor little boy who had been broken by the big bad guys. He did not understand that all other soldiers who came after him, except the suicide squad made with Stark’s serum, had been turned into ashes. There was nothing left to break in them - and you either.

_______________________

Shuri wasn’t happy to hear your story just like he thought, but Bucky couldn’t lie to her, hoping she would understand. Of course, she didn’t, telling him outright it was impossible to treat somebody who didn’t want to be treated. While it was also inhuman, forcing you to do something against your will just like HYDRA has been doing all these years, it also erased the possibility to use the same methods she chose when she treated Bucky.

“You don’t understand,” she tells him, shaking her head, “it’s not that I don’t want to help, but without her cooperating it’s close to impossible. They didn’t use the same ways to program her just like they did to you.”

He isn’t satisfied with her answer even though he knows Shuri wants to help. He can’t leave it like that, leave you to your fate, return you where you belonged, and he keeps asking who or what may be able to help you until she finally tells him something about electrical stimulation of the brain that can awake memories that you have buried. Shuri immediately regrets it, seeing how Bucky’s face lights up.

“It is a very complicated process that requires an extensive medical knowledge. Worse, even if performed correctly, this technique can traumatize her even further. Please don’t do this. We don’t even know if this method will be effective.”

Bucky doesn’t promise her anything, though a part of him feels guilty he made her tell him this. He just has to do it: undoubtedly, HYDRA or whoever you work for now will force you to go through the brainwashing process again, and whatever treatment Shuri told him about can’t be worse than this. If Bucky does everything right, you might stand a chance to live like he does, away from the horrors of the war you had been a part of ever since the organization abducted you. Even if you don’t want it, clearly it is an effect of the memory suppressing machine: any sane human being wants to have a normal life, right?

It takes him months to find and steal the equipment he needs, leaving no traces - it reminds him of the days when he had been under HYDRA’s control, but he does what he has to. Learning how to use the machine is a much more complicated task, but Bucky is grateful for that serum-enhanced brain of his: he nearly swallows the information from the books in record time, reading about sending a burst of electrical energy into your cerebral cortex to stimulate your brain and finally retrieve your memories. Now he knows what Shuri meant by traumatizing, but this doesn’t stop him either. He does what he has to do.

“What is your name?” He repeats after listening to your screams for ten or maybe twenty minutes, your body going limp in the black, cold chair when you open your mouth, breathing heavily, your face stained with tears and sweat.

“Dolores.” You say immediately, knowing he will repeat the procedure if you keep silent, your heat beating wildly. “I grew up... on a small farm in Iowa... I had an older sister... and slept with a big teddy bear with a red ribbon...”

“You are lying.” He says simply, and a jolt of electricity cuts through your head, nearly electrocuting you while you scream again and again.

For some reason he always feels it when you say what he wants to hear instead of the truth. What he doesn’t understand is that the truth he wants has been told months ago: you did not remember and you were not going to remember anything from your past. It was stupid to try. There was nothing left of you, and while he thought he was resurrecting a human in you, he was simply destroying your body that was regenerating every night after the therapy.

When you receive a new jolt, shaking and screaming, tears streaming down your face until they fall down onto your already wet t-shirt, you whisper through gritted teeth, “Either I will have you as my Soldat, or I will not have you at all.”

Bucky presses the button.

__________________________

When he is finished he takes you to a bath in the room next to your cell. You almost lose the ability to move for an hour or two, giving him time to prepare you: Bucky undresses you and slowly lowers your body in the tub filled with warm water, watching that you take a comfortable position and don’t slip, effectively suffocating. Today he had almost gone too far, risking to fry your brain: you still refused to give up even after two months of therapy you have gone through, and Bucky isn’t too happy.

Pouring a strawberry-scented shampoo on his palm, Bucky starts to carefully wash your hair that grew longer in the months of captivity, watching that neither shampoo nor the foam gets in your eyes. You are nearly breathless: the serum they gave you made you less stronger than him, but your regeneration abilities are on a whole different level, and soon your body will adjust and erase the damage made.

He asks himself whether keep using the machine makes sense since he didn’t make much progress, the programming still very much in you even after all those incredibly painful sessions. What if you were right from the start? What if there was nothing to remember, and all he could do was to leave you in the state you were in before he destroyed whatever was left of you?

No, he can’t do it. Leaving you means taking away your chance to ever get back to normal life, and he can’t force himself to do that.

Never in his life Bucky Barnes will admit letting you go meant never getting his own happy ending the way he wants it.

“Why reinventing the wheel when you can make it so much easier?” All of a sudden, your hoarse voice whimpers in his ear when you look at him, tiredly moving your head up. “Do what they’ve always done. Use the programming to give me an order.”

A part of him is shocked with the revelation: he wanted to be neither the Soldier nor the one giving him commands. But the other part makes him realize how much easier it would be if he just used what has already been done to you instead of relying on an obviously ineffective method that damaged your mind and body. Of course, he has nothing in common with Karpov sending him on the assassination missions. Bucky only wants you to learn how to become human again, free you from HYDRA once and for all, give you the life you undoubtedly wanted. Even if he uses the same method the organization did until he finds a better way to undo the programming, it is still for your own good.

___________

Tags: @finleyjayne​ @alexakeyloveloki​ @helenaeisenhower​ @villanellevi​ @hurricanerin​ @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherubwrites @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @soleil-dor @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @buckybarnesplumwhore @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks @lux-ravenwolf @iheartsebandchris @ximebebx @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @sourpatchspinster

[lantanasmuttyfanfics]

good king x evil queen angst smut plss

Here we are again with one of my favorites couples, and honestly just a little headcannon but I like to think that secretly eq and bad wolf are besties idk a little sus how she left him to be when she took over during the dragon games

Anyway I hope you aren’t sick of these two because guess whatttt it’s a gk x eq fic on Friday

Hope you enjoyed and have a great dayy!!

——————————

“Don’t you ever wish that the evil queen wasn’t so… so much?” The good king paused as he turned to look at his friend.

He felt a familiar anger simmering beneath, he couldn’t stand when people would judge his relationship with the evil queen as if they had any right to.

The only thing they saw was the public image that the couple portrayed yet they still had the nerve to pretend that they knew everything about them.

“What’s that supposed mean?” The bite in his voice had his friend shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Something which the good king took delight in.

“Well I just mean she just can’t let anything go and she always has to do the most even when it’s not needed. If I were you I’d get really annoyed.” The good king felt his eye twitch as the guy went on.

“And personally I don’t know how you deal with all that. I’m damn happy that she’s not my girlfriend with that attitude and don’t even get me started on-.”

The good king droned his not so much friend out, his nails digging into his palms waiting for him finally shut up.

But after minutes of him not doing so, the good king stood with a start an angry glare that the boy seemed to miss crossing his face before he excused himself.

And as he passed by an empty classroom he missed the sight of his girlfriend sitting with one of her ‘friends’ mouth hung open and eyes flaming.

The evil queen always knew that people disapproved or hex despised the idea of her and the good king dating but she always tuned it out.

But it was something today that had the boys words plunging deep in her heart and in her consciousness. She knew that she was extreme and she enjoyed that she was like that, but that small part of her head screamed at her.

What if the boy was right and the good king did hate how… much she was? He certainly didn’t stop the boy from continuing on his little hate speech. Not that the she cared she thought as she stared at the retreating silhouette.

And of course there was the talk and wishes of all those around her, whispering like parasites how the good king deserved a pure and sweet princess like Snow White to be his girlfriend.

That struck her the most and it wasn’t because she was jealous of Snow White, she really couldn’t give a grimms sake but it was because she knew that it was true.

He did deserve someone he wasn’t constantly being harassed over like he was with her. She knew the good king tried to hide it but she wasn’t a fool she had ears.

“Should I play a little… game on that stupid boy?” The evil queens snapped out of her thoughts as she heard the big bad wolfs voice sound out.

She was suddenly even more glad for the dark room as she felt moisture had gathered in the corner of her eyes. “No. I’ll take care of it.”

Wolf sighed and slid of the table with a growl “well if you change your mind you know where to find me.” The evil queen put on a smirk as he passed her.

“Yeah I know you’ll be fucking my roommate in the same dorm I sleep in.”

“And you think I can’t smell you and the good king in there. Sometimes I think I need nose plug before I enter.”

The evil queen sent an amethyst ball of fire chasing after him as he walked out. Now alone the evil queen buried her face in her hands that deep rooted frustration slowly emerging.

She’d be fine she’d deal with this the same way she always handled it. She’d suck it up and push it down.

—

The good king ran a hand down his face as he stared at the ceiling above. He was waiting until the time passed by and to until the evil queen came up to his dorm.

He had sent her a message earlier, asking for her to come to his dorm so he could just… be with her. He always felt antsy when someone doubted or insulted his relationship with the evil queen and he found the only way he felt better was to be near her.

The door swung open without warning and the evil queen walked in a rather odd expression on her face. He immediately sat up and went to embrace her but she evaded.

“Sweetheart come here.” She looked at him over her shoulder and shook her head. He furrowed his brows now even more concerned.

“Is something wrong?”

“Why would you think that?”

“You tell me.”

He crossed his arms pointedly as she sat stiffly on his bed, usually she acted as if she owned the place, not that he complained obviously he loved having her in his space.

The evil queen sat there like a ticking time bomb, waiting for the perfect opportunity to speak up.

She found that opportunity as the good king sighed and undressed from his day clothes, now sitting beside her with only a pair of pants on.

“Your little friend sure had a lot to say about me. Oh and thanks for sticking up for me, really appreciated it.” Her voice was dry as crossed her arms, the action making his eyes involuntarily peak down.

But as if a wave of cold water hit him, the good king froze and gazed at the evil queen with a regretful look on his face.

“I know and I promise I’m going to give him a piece of my mind when I see him again.”

“And what about you sitting like a duck while he berated me?” Her voice was once again clipped, although somewhat glad he wasn’t trying to make excuses for himself.

When he took longer than she liked to answer she took the initiative to answer for him. “Is it because you agree with him? Or is it because you no longer love me?”

It was as if a thread snapped within the good king. He grabbed the evil queen by the face, now standing well above her as he near growled at her “you think I don’t love you? Hmm?”

The evil queen didn’t reply, the dark gaze in his eyes fanning a wave of warmth within her. But she decided she liked this little game, this teasing.

“I guess not. Not when you don’t defend me.” The good king pushed her flush on the bed, her hair falling all over his pillow.

“If I didn’t love you then explain this.” He brought her hand down to the noticeable dent in his trousers. “If I didn’t love you I wouldn’t be burning for you.”

His voice but a whisper as he tugged at her dress, his hands caressing every inch of her skin that he could find.

The evil queen felt heat ignite in seconds, her breath catching for a second. Snapping her fingers their clothes disappeared in deep purple smoke.

The good king didn’t seek encouragement as he explored her body from head to toe, his lips attacking her neck and his hand tugging at her hair to expose more of her neck.

He made sure to leave dark hickeys all over her neck, “see i want everyone to know we’re together. To see my love for you.” The evil queen only sighed in reply.

Her legs draped over his hips, the silk sheets cooling her heated skin as the good king trailed hot, open mouthed kisses down her body.

She didn’t have time to react before he upon her, his dark hair tickling her inner thighs and his hands bruising her hips as he held her down.

Her fists clenched down on nothing, get eyes glowing violet and purple magic encompassing the dorm. The good king paid no mind, his teeth dragging along her knee to her thigh.

Before she could get that high, the good king rose up his eyes glinting as he stared at the dark marks all over her neck.

They didn’t exchange any words as his mouth collided with hers, their breaths tangling together in a kiss of pure love and lust. Nor did the good king give any warning before pushing in.

They both let out surprised and pleased moans as he sank further in until he bottomed out. The evil queens arms wrapped around his neck, her breath coming out in pants as her love made the first move.

The sensation nearly drove the good king mad as he clenched his fist around her long platinum hair, his mouth finding her neck again.

The room soon felt overly humid as sweat trickled down his neck and the evil queens skin glowed in the moonlight.

She feared for second that she was hurting him as he grunted while she dug her heels on his back, pushing him further down with a heavy grunt.

Sometimes the good king thought that she was purposely trying to drive him insane as he dug her heels further in his back, her nails scraping along his spine.

He shuddered at the feeling, and the evil queen smirked against his neck, doing it again and again until the hood king was grunting so loudly she feared those beyond the door could hear.

She let out a silent scream as she suddenly and unexpectedly felt that peak tip IVE the edge with no warning. She sunk her nails in his back, watching the crescent shape embed in his skin.

The good king slumped above her, his hair falling over his sweaty forehead. Yet he mastered all the strength he had and gazed down at her.

“I’ll always love you no matter the situation or circumstances.”

That was also the same thought he had as he watched, years later, his wife and love getting sucked into the mirror prison. A little 5 year old Raven crying by his side.

————————————

Fun fact- I get the BIGGEST ick writing about the final moments of a smut scene which I guess is really bad considering what type of writer I am

Anyway just a little tip if you comment on my posts with a question I can’t answer it because it literally won’t allow me to comment sooo yeah

Hope you enjoyed and have great dayy!!

[juleswolverton-hyde]

Not by the Moon | 08

Genre: Smut, Romance, Strangers to Lovers, Drama, Tragedy, Werewolf AU, Supernatural AU, Bookshop AU

Pairing: Bookshop keeper!/Werewolf!JB x Reader

Warnings: Mild swearing, eating disorder (personal experience, don’t be a bloody twat), heavy(?) angst, Werewolf!Jaebeom trying to be a normal boyfriend

Summary: Every story has a purpose or goal it is dedicated to, their authors at times going to great lengths to see the project they once started to completion. Nevertheless, the things the writers swore on to see their latest art piece to completion are static.

Unchanging.

None of them swore by the Moon nor Love because they can solely genuinely swear on all that changes like themselves.

And yet, a wolf in love foolishly swore by the moon.

That is when Time truly started ticking.

Author’s Note: This chapter is from Y/N’s POV.

I am seeing a trend starting to develop where every chapter turns into a behemoth that makes me not want to edit it at all. Nevertheless, I pulled through on this one despite being in the middle of a 32-hour work week and being absolutely exhausted.

Summer holidays, you said? I only see extra shifts and little me-time nor writing time and inspiration. That said, though, be prepared for some heavy worldbuilding because the plot thickens.

Also, and this has been edited in the previous chapter, a new special someone makes his debut in this chapter. Is this also a hint about whose story is next?

Who knows?

I don’t know.

Previous Chapter / Next chapter

Masterlist

“Jaebeom? Jay!” I nudge the big man’s shoulder to signal for him to step aside so I can turn the stove off before the burned pancake catches fire. “That’s the third one in a row.”

“I’m sorry,” he mutters quietly. “I- I have a... I can’t focus.”

“Is it because of this morning?” If so, then that makes two of us. However, I tried to forget as best I could by working with timed productivity sprints instead of writing the article on Bruges in one go. It worked fairly well until lunch time came around.

That’s when I, too, couldn’t escape the claw mark.

The image of it flashes before my eyes once more, joining my thoughts with his if his blank look is anything to go by.

How did it get there? What did you do?

“Yeah. Morning. I... I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, brows furrowed. “I’m sorry, this should be a nice evening. A cozy night in. You deserve my attention, for me to,” his breath tapers as he finishes the sentence, “be here.”

The quiver in his lips makes the roof of my mouth dry up and my mind empty save for gut-stirring concern, unable to think of a proper response. Nevertheless, I look for words to say what seems best. Like I did this morning when I went to get his medication. “How about I take it from here and bake the pancakes? You already made the batter and I can’t let you do all the work.”

“I like cooking for you.”

“I know you do, but it’s fine. Really,” I gesture at the couch by the living room window, which provides a glimpse of the small balcony, “sit down. I’ll call you once dinner’s ready.”

“Y/N,” he reaches out for my hand yet only dares to hold my fingertips, “I’m sorry I can’t be more.”

The crack in his voice breaks my heart. But its the vulnerability written across his normally stoic face which tears me apart at the seams. Whatever he means, it’s nothing to do with this morning. Rather, it’s about him as a person, the wonderful man he is. 

Throat blocked by something I can’t swallow, I scan his attitude for any hint about what he truly means. “What’re you on about?”

Let’s just forget about it for a little while and be a normal couple. I promise I won’t run away despite what happened.

Unfortunately, Jaebeom dismisses the question to make a point I wish he didn’t. “We both know what’s ahead. But, sometimes it’s as if you’re avoiding the inevitable.”

I let out a deep sigh, caught red-handed. “I’m not, because I know or, rather, can guess where this is going. I just don’t know how to respond at times. And I don’t want you to feel bad so I try to keep the mood high as best I can. To, well, keep us both happy.”

“Is your avoidance of food also part of that?” he asks, carefully formulating the question while keeping a close eye on any change in my demeanour.

“Yes.”

“I hate it when you don’t eat.”

“I know, but if you knew the reasons behind it, you’d understand why it’s difficult for me. Although, I want you to know that I’m trying to keep my promise to you and eat when you tell me to.” I cup his cheek, lovingly swiping my thumb to and fro over the tanned skin. “It’s really hard to escape your determination. You’re very insistent on things.”

“Too much?” Eyes dim and glistening with withheld tears, he nuzzles my palm.

“Sometimes.” I kiss the tip of his nose and smile, a sign of happiness that’s only half a lie. “It doesn’t make me love you any less. Now, let me be a proper girlfriend and cook for you.”

Regardless of the wonderful sight of Jaebeom wearing an apron and being absorbed in his element in the kitchen, it’s equally as wonderful to have something to eat tonight. Secretly, I would rather have made a healthier and less calorie-rich dish, but we both need a bit of a reprieve from last night. Thus, for the sake of us both, I’ve decided to let go of my rules for a little while.

To enjoy something sweet.

As wholesome as the sight of the wolf man seated on the couch, knees pulled up with round gold-rimmed glasses balancing on the bridge of his nose as he reads the novel he apparently borrowed from my bookshelves. I should write a little note on the title page and give it to him as a present so he’ll have one of my books like I have his.

They’ll be on his shelves for as long as we’re here.

Be there even after he’s gone.

Then they will return to me yet still be his.

He will still be with me.

The pages filled with his love.

It’s everything that will be left of him.

His legacy.

His remains.

The thought leaving me filled with bittersweet affection, I cut the fruit to put on top of the pancakes while gradually using up all the batter. Were it not for the move to the cottage at the end of the month, I could easily be content here if he’d ask me to move in. Wherever we are, evenings like these might become a common occurrence, a splendid reward at the end of a long day at the office.

They could turn any place into our home.

The long road of the lone wolf would finally come to an end.

Because as long as he’s there, I’m home.

“Mind your head.” Despite the warning, Jaebeom nevertheless puts a hand on my head while he opens the cupboard above to grab two plates.

“I was just about to say dinner’s ready.” I let out a breathless laugh, hardly hiding the sobs at the thought of one day having to live without his touch. “Talk about timing.”

For a second, a curious expression treks across his face. It passes by too fast to properly describe it, but it seemed to be triggered by the meaningless remark about his return to the kitchen.

When a dangerously short and sharp breath escapes me, he swallows it with a kiss. Perhaps it’s the sorrow of knowing a storm lies on the horizon that makes me delusional, but a soft whine rises in his throat each time he kisses a stray tear away as he peppers my face in small pecks. 

Satisfied he has taken the sadness more or less away, the corners of his mouth curl into a lop-sided smile as if nothing happened. Notwithstanding, it isn’t hard to figure the blissful ignorance is merely feigned. “Right. Timing.”

Our gazes lock and neither of us says a word until he perks up and motions for me to step back. “Fork and knife.”

Discombobulated by the shared confusion, I indeed set a step backwards so he can open the drawer. In the meanwhile, as Jay sets the dinnerware down, I put the final pancake on the stack and set it down in the middle of the table. 

Chest puffed out, I clap my hands. “Dig in.”

Like yesterday, Jaebeom insists on doing the dishes while I settle down for the night. However, whereas I gladly did before, I now do with an uneasy mind. Arms wrapped around my knees, my thoughts run down a familiar dark path.

I ate too much. Maybe I should go home and do a workout. Then again, I really don’t want to even though I have to.

“Y/N?” The faint though surprising mention of my name breaks the imaginary stones weighing down my shoulders. I snap my head to the side, almost headbutting the wolf man who has appeared at my side. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Lips pulled into a wistful smile, I scratch him under the chin in hopes of distracting him to the degree he won’t be able to ask further questions. “I’m tired, that's all.”

Unfortunately, Jaebeom is like a guardian who somehow notices a lot despite his absent-minded demeanour. Henceforth, the topic is all but abandoned. 

Without warning, and as effortless as if he were picking up a book, he lifts me up from the couch to hold me in his arms. Instinctively, I clutch his loose black shirt to have a grip of something in case I fall. It’s an ungrounded fear since his arms are sturdy, but it’s comforting nonetheless to have something to hold on to.

My haphazard action elicits a low chuckle that makes my heart skip a beat, although it almost thumps out of my chest again as he rests his forehead against mine. “Let’s go to bed.”

“It’s only eight o’clock,” I sputter, chest tight and no breath sufficient enough to lift the sensation. “Besides, I- I don’t have any fresh change of clothes or toiletries or a pyjama.”

Did he turn the central heating up?

“Doesn’t matter. Can borrow. You. No, that’s not right. You… you can. You can borrow clothes from me. Also, I think I have a spare toothbrush somewhere around here.”

“Jay,’’ As best I can, I try to keep my tone steady though the words come out too fast and uneven regardless, ‘’I think I should go home.” 

If I don’t and I won’t get in some more exercise, I’ll gain weight and slowly go back to how I was.

And I’ll lose him.

Back to square one.

Loveless.

Despite the effort, I can’t prevent the crack in my voice as I weakly tug at his shirt. ‘’Let me go.’’

“No.’’ The gentle kindness has malformed into rough sternness, translated in a sound similar to a growl. ‘’You need to calm down.”

“I am calm!” I retort, more ferocious and sharper than intended though the equal harshness might help to drive the point home.

For a split second, he snarls and bares his teeth. Simultaneously, a flicker of a second personality passes across his mismatched eyes.

The calm ocean warps into a watery grave with high waves on a stormy night.

The hazelnut cracks to set that which it contains free.

His lashes abruptly flutter shut, as he lets out a pained gasp. Beneath my fingertips, his chest caves as if an imaginary fist has dealt him a blow in the guts.

And in mine as well.

Rippling flesh.

There’s… there’s no… Jay, what is happening to you?

I hold on tighter to the fabric, hyperventilating while trying to refrain from bursting out in tears.

There has to be something I can do! But what? What do I do? How can I make this stop?

How do I get you back?

Withal, shivering lips parted to beg for guidance, are interrupted by a shake of the head hanging low. Slowly, Jaebeom looks up, a light layer of sweat on his skin. Our gazes lock, but whereas the wolf man’s was filled with savage chaos, it’s now returned to the stern tranquility it held before the attack. Nonetheless, an uncomprehending whimper betrays the fact that whatever happened wasn’t experienced consciously.

The rage was beyond him.

Outside him.

Another’s.

Still breathless, he scoffs, the sound gruff and overtly disagreeing. “Let’s watch the moon and stars.”

There is no chance to ask any questions about the swift changes in demeanour since he promptly moves to the hallway and up the stairs towards his bedroom. The bedframe of the two-person bed also functions as a bookshelf which takes up the entire right wall, the shelves stacked with second-hand paperbacks in various conditions. An empty picture frame is placed on his side of the bed, a pair of glasses next to it.

Jaebeom puts me down on the navy wool blanket on the edge of the bed and leans in to steal a kiss, which is easy to do considering I’m too shaken to offer any protest. Nor do I feel the comfort of his lips. “Take your clothes off. I’ll go find you pyjamas.”

A tad reluctant, mind occupied by guilt and terror, I start to undress as he rummages through the wardrobe on the other end of the room.

Left only in my underwear, I sit down on the edge of the bed. Although he’s seen me naked once, I still wrap my arms around myself to hide my body. A shield to protect a fragile ego housed in equally as vulnerable body flesh.

Afraid of what might happen when those ripples grow out of control.

Terrified of who he will become.

Of who he is.

“Don’t.” Jaebeom turns around with a black hoodie and grey sweatpants in his hands, eyebrows drawn together. He closes the drawer, throws the clothes on the bed, kneels, and firmly yet gently grabs my wrists to break the walls I put up. And I let him. “Don’t hide from me.”

Not understanding where the shame originates from, he grows still as he scrutinizes my face for clues. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

Instead of giving an answer, I change into the makeshift pyjamas. The hoodie is oversized yet comfortably baggy while the sweatpants hang disconcertingly low on my hips. Fortunately, any skin it reveals is covered up by the top.

Continuing to avoid his gaze without saying a word, I crawl under the sheets. Face turned to the window, I pull up the blanket he drapes over me and bury my nose in it.

A wild forest and cologne with a musty hint of pages.

It’s undeniably him.

I don’t know what else to do or say. So, I let the silence speak for itself.

A language he is fluent in too despite his oftentimes loud demeanour.

The mattress dips under his weight when he lies down and rearranges the sheets to cover us both. An arm wrapped around my waist and legs tangled, Jaebeom pulls me flush against him, his chest warm against my back.

A sob rises in my throat when I feel his lips place a kiss on my crown with a sigh of contentment.

I don’t deserve this.

Us.

Him.

The fear of losing him to whatever is happening inside.

Then again, Life isn’t fair. It deals everyone the same awful hand and leaves it up to the player to make the best of it.

I guess we’re both dealt a crappier hand than others. That, or we play them wrong.

Can we win at all?

“Talk to me.” As loving and happy as the casual intimacy of the embrace is, as forgetful it could make me if only I’d manage to fall asleep, Jaebeom’s oddly sweet cooing keeps me awake.

Staring at the moon.

A woman as fickle as me.

And infinitely more beautiful.

Funny how I, too, am jealous of a celestial body.

In love with the heavens. 

He continues when he notices I won’t be the one to break the silence, his intonation laced by a whiny undertone like a dog wanting something yet being denied what it wants. “You know what I’m dealing with. But...” he digs his fingers deeper into my hips, the grip iron-like without being painful, “I hope this is okay to ask, but what is it with you and food?”

The encouraging squeeze in my side almost has me bursting out in tears again. There has to be a price to pay somewhere in the shadows, the overwhelming sensation of being genuinely loved and protected must turn out to be as two-sided as the silver goddess in the sky. After all, Life is bittersweet.

“It’s only fair I tell you.” Especially after how open he’s been. Besides, there’s no opportunity to avoid the topic since we’d arrive at it sooner or later. And he deserves to know. In fact, I don’t want him to forget my brokenness the moment I tell him about it.

We both want each other to remember our own missing pieces.

So I sigh, turn over and bald my hands into fists to rest against the warm skin of his bare chest. As I speak up, I try to keep my voice as steady as possible. “I used to be quite a fat kid, to the degree the GP advised my parents to put me on a diet. Queue high school and social pressure which led me to perhaps work out more than is healthy and left me bordering on the edge of anorexia. There are still foods I won’t eat and days I’ll worry about my calorie intake, especially on the days I don’t work out.”

I can’t help the mirthless chuckle which turns into a rueful smile. “It’s the good old cliché. Just another soul broken for the shallow enjoyment and acceptance of others.” 

Lips pulled into a stern line, the wolf man remains silent. Notwithstanding, his eyes speak volumes when I dare to look up at him, the ocean and hazelwood alight with a watery sheen. Perhaps it’s the comfort of his nearness or the familiarity of those one of a kind eyes, but he inspires a confession which I never thought I’d make. “Nevertheless, I’m getting better and it’s partially thanks to you.”

Morgan spamming me with ‘Have you eaten?’ texts and Bam making sure I finish my plate whenever we go out for food either here or abroad help a lot too. Nonetheless, it’s mostly the bookish wolf who makes me want to try.

And be a little better than before.

“What do they feel like, those days?”

“The bad ones?” Jaebeom nods. “They’re ridden with guilt and self-loathing.”

He leans in, leaving only a few centimetres of distance between our faces. His breath is warm on my skin as he bumps his nose against mine. “You’re feeling that way now.”

“I am.”

“Don’t.”

“I can’t.”

“You’re still you. Beautiful as always. And I’ll love you regardless of how you look. I like your mind, which is as weird as mine. The way you hold my hand, as if you’re afraid I’ll walk away. How you unconsciously squeeze it when you need my protection more. How you feel in my arms, soft and warm as a bunny.” He hooks his finger under my chin and tilts it upward to run his tongue over my lips and nose. “Love you. A lot.”

“I love you too.” I turn my head to nuzzle his palm, my face perfectly fitting into it.

Please, no ripples. Let us have this moment. I don’t want to be afraid anymore. Let me have him, just him as he is. At least tonight.

The secure affection of the touch transforms into something else when he glides the back of his hand over my cheek and folds his fingers over my throat. Testing the waters, eyes boring into mine to stop at the slightest sign of discomfort, he slowly closes off my access to air.

It’s funny how the body and mind react to certain situations. Whereas I normally would flinch and run in the direction of safety, there is no urge to run. In fact, the tingling in my chest travels down to rekindle a familiar heat between my thighs while my adrenaline-infused system aches for the wolfish lover. Henceforth, instead of jumping up from the bed, I spread my legs so Jaebeom can comfortably nestle between them.

“Let me prove it. Let me mate you.” The calloused fingertip journeying across the collarbone to the crook of the neck sends a pleasant shiver down the spine. Another electric shock follows at the coarse prickly sensation of his moustache rubbing against my skin as his soft lips kisses and nips at it. “It will only sting a bit, I promise. Please, the mark will look pretty.”

“No biting, Jay.” Reminded of our agreement this morning and the movement beneath his skin when his emotions seem to get the better of him, I pull him against my chest. Before he can protest I scratch his jaw exactly in the way he likes it, thus subduing his great ability to argue. “Not today.”

“It’s not... hm, k- keep go- What do- Bit higher. There. Like, hm, mhm, there. But... what normal-’’ Arms wrapped around my waist again and letting out a content hum, dark lashes flutter shut. For a moment, it seems he’s fallen asleep. However, his drowsy murmurs, while growing incomprehensible, still haven’t finished. “It’s not what couples do.”

“You’re learning,” I giggle, amused by the remark which sounds like a student recalling a piece of knowledge during a test and repeating it for himself.

Without understanding the knowledge completely. “What do they do?”

Staring at the ceiling, I run my fingers through his long dark manes as I try to come up with ideas about what we can do next. “Well, you’ve already given me your clothes. We could try jewelry next, maybe a promise ring. It’s an old-fashioned idea, but people who are promised to each other wear matching rings. 

‘’What mean? Promised?’’

I say nothing of the faulty grammar of his question. After all, speaking becomes harder once exhaustion overtakes the body and mind. I have yet to find a sleeper being able to form comprehensible sentences. ‘’They’re sort of similar to engagement rings, but without the immediate implication of getting married soon.”

“Let’s get en- enga- enge-’’ Jaebeom lets out a groan, frustrated by his lack of speech. Nevertheless, it doesn’t perturb him enough to completely give up on the effort to properly pronounce the word he’s struggling with. “En. Gage. Ment. Engagement rings instead.”

I let out a breathless chuckle, amused both by his determination and the absurd proposal. “It’s definitely too early for that.”

“It’s not!” He barks, shooting up with a pinched expression on his face.   

Scratching him like before, I manage to calm him down enough to make him lie down on my chest again. Nonetheless, his discontent shines through in the gruff scoff he lets out. “It is.”

“What if...” Prompted by the idea in his mind, Jay scrambles upright to face me once more. Lips parted, the feral sharpness in his mismatched eyes is replaced by a twinkle of barely contained excitement. However, the enthusiasm dims with a shake of the head and a low self-deprecating chuckle that ignites my curiosity. At the same time, it also tugs at the strings of my heart. “No, it’s wrong of me to ask.”

“What is?”

What were you about to say? Don’t keep it to yourself. Tell me!

“Never mind.” He lies down again, nuzzling my breasts as he snuggles up into me.

Then, he slips his hand under mine to lift and compare it to his. “Cute paw.”

Fine. Keep your secrets, you big burly bastard.

“Go to sleep.” I push him off of me, earning myself a disappointed noise which resembles a yelp. “On the other side of the bed, please and thank you.”

In the days that follow, the movement like water set astir under his skin continues to haunt my mind. In fact, it does to the extent that even the keys beneath my fingers seem to flow rather than be pushed down, causing me to flinch for the third time in a row. 

For the past hour I’ve been trying to type out the notes on an interview with a chocolatier in Bruges and compose them into a coherent article. An otherwise simple task my mind won’t allow me to complete despite the attempts to remember the good moments we had recently. The video calls right before bed, the cuddle session a few days ago when we gazed at the moon, his enthusiastic texts about and photos of new recipes Jaebeom tried. None of it prevents the likely imagined terrible from destroying our happiness.

I’m going insane. He’s a normal person. Somewhat. I was jet-lagged and therefore not thinking clearly.

That’s why I thought I felt his skin move. I was delusional.

Drunk on him.

A buzz pulls me out of my reverie, the screen of my phone lighting up with a message.

Morgan: Starving! Found a new café thanks to a friend.

Y/N: Let me guess. I have no choice but to come along.

Morgan: There wasn’t a choice to begin with :)

Y/N: Of course not. What am I talking about, eh? See you in five.

Chuckling at the woman’s classic brashness, I shake my head, pack my belongings and head to the elevators.

Outside, regardless of the November chill, it’s pleasant. The sun shines brightly and the wind blows the little bundles of fallen leaves at the roots of the birch trees lining the street into motion, scattering them over the neatly swept pavement.

Winter is around the corner. God, I hate the cold. Hopefully, there won’t be snow any time soon.

I sit down on the bench under one of the birch trees, its branches already bare. 

Autumn is truly ending now. Shame. I haven’t even had a pumpkin spice latte and cinnamon roll yet. Maybe I should ask Jay out and find a nice coffee shop where we can get them. After all, if he’s there, we can share the pastry. He’ll be happy and I won’t have to eat the whole thing. A win-win situation.

Enjoying watching the people pass by, each stranger essentially a book with a unique story that is yet not entirely different from someone else’s. Withal, the world feels colder without him, the missing part embodied in the unoccupied spot next to mine.

A delighted sigh on the right makes me snap my head around, alarmed at the notion someone has appeared out of the blue on the empty seat. 

A woman clad in a white suit and matching fur-lined coat with pale skin and brown hair glowing copper in direct light stares contentedly up at the clouds. She’s in her very early twenties, although the freckles dusting her cheekbones and rosy cheeks might simply make her look younger than she is.

For a moment, taken aback and speechless, I cannot help but blatantly gape at the otherworldly stranger.

Wow, she’s like a goddess.

A stone sinks to the bottom of my stomach as a dark thought intrudes my mind. My throat dried up, I twist my wrists, the muscles stiff beneath my fingers.

Would Jaebeom like her? If he saw her on the street, would he... would he stop and stare? Prefer her over me or even try and give it a shot by introducing himself?

“It’s a bit chillier than I’d like, but at least it’s better than rain or snow.” The woman turns to face me, her features soft. “I hope spring will come again soon, though.”

I don’t get the chance to respond because a familiar voice calls out. Not that I would be able to form a proper reply otherwise. “You’re here already?”

“I happened to be nearby,” the stranger turns away to answer as Morgan comes to a halt in front of us, a puzzled expression on her face.

“I texted you fifteen minutes ago and you said you had to clean up. I thought you’d join us later.”

“The birth and after birth went faster than I thought so here I am.”

“I’m sorry, but what is going on?” More than a little lost, I look from one to the other in hopes of being given an explanation. “I didn’t know we’d head out with the three of us.”

“Right, I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Brigid.” The dark-haired woman holds out her pale hand in greeting. “I work at the hospital as an obstetrician.”

“I’m Y/N,’’ I reply, shaking her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Lass,” wonder turned to a darker version of itself yet not saying anything, Morgan shifts her attention to me, “you look famished. Come on, let’s go.”

Offering a few muttered words of agreement, I get up and sheepishly tag along with the other women. As we walk out the street and round a corner, following the signs leading to the artist district nearby the university, I’m occasionally tempted to join the conversation. However, as soon as a short silence falls, I don’t chip in, unsure how to contribute to the small talk they seem to deliberately keep up in order to avoid a topic neither is keen to discuss. Thus I walk in urban loneliness, my train of thought displaced on my face as I let the ghosts of Jaebeom’s skin freely haunt my mind.

Right before the descent into the darkness of the rabbit hole, strong long fingers wrap around my wrist and hold it in an iron grip. The slightly painful squeeze interrupts my reverie.

Jaebeom?

I snap my head to the side to find Morgan standing there, leaning in a bit and her voice low. “We’re here.”

I don’t know how I’ve managed to ignore the bustle of students looking for a free spot on one of the terraces and loud conversations accompanied by the rustle of the paper bags hailing from the shops owned by self-employed artists. It’s also miraculous that I haven’t bumped into anyone by accident.

“Oh,” is all I say, looking at the café we’ve stopped in front of.

Wolf’s is spelled out in a modern font on the sign outside and above the door. A big window provides visitors with a view of the plaza. The interior is simple yet cosy, the white furniture warmed up by oak accents and the bare walls decorated with various art pieces, centered around wolves and various flowers. By the looks of it, they were all made by a single artist who likes to experiment with style every now and then. A few plants are dotted around the place as well to add a hint of free nature to the underlying strangely forest-like aesthetic.

A tall broad-shouldered man with short curly chocolate brown hair partially covering up the scar running over his left eye, strong dark eyebrows and a big koala-like nose stands behind the counter. Both of his arms and hands are decorated with various intricately designed tattoos. Whereas Jay is muscled yet lean, the tanned barista looks like a man who knows how to fight yet is a warrior in a society without combat.

As soon as we walk in, his lifts his head and turns to us. Playful lights illuminate the milky white of his left and raven dark of his right eye. A meadow of snow, its glimmer reflecting off of the smooth feathers of a wise bird. “Hi, welcome. Brigid, long time no see.”

Nobody seems to notice it, but his female colleague, a short woman with long flowy caramel brown hair tied into a ponytail who has her back turned to us and is busy extracting a shot, cringes at the merry mention of the woman’s name. Slowly, she steals a glance at us, hazel eyes sharpening when they fall on the woman in white. Nevertheless, she remains silent and quickly returns her attention to preparing someone’s coffee.

Looks like I’m not the only one envying her.

It is wrong to hate a woman for her beauty. Nonetheless, although it’s shameful, part of me refuses to associate with Morgan’s acquaintance out of a toxic mixture of spite and jealousy.

Such is the female nightmare.  

“So this is what you’ve been up to,” Brigid muses, nodding appreciatively while inspecting the coffee shop. “You’ve got a nice thing going on here, Rome.”

“Please don’t call me that anymore. It’s Christian now. Chris or Ian for short.’’ Muscled arms crossed, he grimaces and shakes his head while looking down. Notwithstanding, the stern attitude melts into casual friendliness as a bright smile forms on his lips. ‘’But I do, don’t I? However, it’s not just me running the place. I’ve had some help.”

He turns around and motions for his colleague to come over. For a second she doesn’t move, darting glances to each of us like an alarmed cat checking for danger. Notwithstanding, though clearly tense, she warily approaches and halts at the man’s side.

Her eyes nearly pop out of her head when Christian places a hand on her shoulder. “In fact, Gráinne here still helps me out every day. She’s basically the second owner.”

“I- I’m not,” she sputters in a soft Ulster accent, fumbling with her fingers and her cheeks flushed, “I just work here some days.”

“You’re a bit more than a colleague,” her co-worker remarks, shoulders lowered and his tone holding more affection than would be the case when talking to a friend. A warm glow seems to form around him, ignited by the fondness he harbours for her.

Funny, Jaebeom wears that same expression when he’s with me.  

“I’m not.” Gráinne stiffens, each word dripping with venom as she steps away, grabs a serving tray and puts the order she was preparing before being called over on it. “Get back to work.”

Lips parted, Ian watches her as she moves past us as fast and agile like a hunting cat without any further acknowledgement of our presence. I hadn’t noticed before, but beneath her apron, she is dressed in clothes reminiscent of the Victorian era. “I know she can be harsh and isn’t easy to get along with, but I’ve never seen her act like this.”

“Och, let it pass. She has every right to be pissed with you since you put her on the spot like that,” Morgan jokes though nobody goes along with it.

She likes him yet doesn’t see it’s mutual. Should I say something? Then again, this is their business, not mine. Furthermore, why would they believe me, a stranger?

So I remain silent.

And leave this to blossom however it is meant to in Fate’s hands.

The icy glare Gráinne gives Brigid behind her back sends a chill down my spine. Evidently, she is a woman not cross paths with once angered. Withal, as the fair beauty looks over her shoulder, the other woman restores her professional composure. 

“You okay?” Christian asks as he watches her retreat into the kitchen, done serving for now.

“I’m fine,” she says thickly, the next breath hitching in her throat. Her focus shifts to the moon-shaped amethyst pendant around his neck. The ghost of a rueful smile forms on her lips, but it fades as fast as it appeared. “It’s not like I’m having a vision or something. Help them.”

She waves her hand dismissively when he doesn’t move, lips parted to say something yet at a loss for words. Notwithstanding, although I can’t see his expression clearly, it’s evident her feigned nonchalance is hurting him. “Go on.”

He clears his throat and forces himself into a rigid posture, frowning as he shifts his attention back to us. Finger hovering over the tablet functioning as a till, he stares at the display with an empty and distant gaze, which is as dull as the tears threatening to roll down his cheeks. “What can I get you?”

We place our order and settle down at the table by the window, neither of us offering a word of solace or dedicated to his colleague’s behaviour. 

After a while, Christian comes up to us to serve the food and beverages. As he puts the plates with our sandwiches down, he and Brigid exchange looks like siblings telepathically conversing. Whatever it is they mentally discussed, it only leaves the barista a slight bit less worried though the grave expression plaguing him remains as he returns to the counter.

An expression which must be similar to mine since it prompts Morgan to speak up regardless of having her teeth sunk into sourdough bread, looking equally as somber. “What’s on your mind, lass?”

“Nothing.” I shake my head and stir my cappuccino with the vintage silver spoon next to the porcelain cup, smiling at my own silly assumptions of what happened now four days ago. “Everything’s fine.”

“Except it’s not.” The raven-haired woman cocks an eyebrow, far from willing to dismiss my worries. “Now tell me. Or, well, us.”

“It’s something to do with your lover, isn’t it?” Brigid remarks, head tilted to the side as she assesses me while sipping at her Irish Breakfast Tea. Her features soften when she notices she has hit a sensitive snare, evidently meaning no harm.

I pull back in my seat as I take a sip of my coffee, flustered and cursing myself for being an open book. There is no way out of this conversation since the current company is like-minded in their refusal to simply let the topic pass before it has been discussed.

I swallow, put the cup on the dish again and clear my throat. Fumbling with the spoon and eyes cast on the cappuccino’s silky milk foam, I tell them of what I think happened. The story sounds strange to my own ears, like a terrible fairy tale told by a chaotic storyteller who can’t tell it in a manner that makes sense regardless of how he manipulates the plot.

Afraid of their reaction, unable to fathom the slightest bit of sympathy and empathy, I look from one to the other. Fortunately, my silence can be excused by drinking the remainder of the coffee although it’s futile since the thirst has nothing to do with bodily needs.

“Sounds familiar.” The woman in white scrunches her nose in disgust as she glares at Morgan.

“He was different,” Morgan sneers through gritted teeth, jaw clenched.

“In essence, he was similar to her lover.’’ Brigid points at me though she remains focused on my best friend, her voice dripping with venom. ‘’Or should I say, is similar?”

“Since when does it matter what he is?” Thin lips painted plum purple curl into a mirthless smile, onyx locks shaking in discontent. “How hypocritical you’ve become. Forgetful of the past.”

“A past worth forgetting. It’s never too late to change your political opinions, Morgan.”

Great, now I’m the one to open Pandora’s box. I should have kept my mouth shut, changed the topic.

Desperate for help yet knowing he cannot do anything, I look for Christian among the other customers. Expression stern and standing as rigid as a statue, he watches our table from behind the counter. It appears he, too, feels the sense of danger increasing as the conversation carries on. Notwithstanding, as becomes clear from the apologetic shake of the head when our eyes meet, he also knows his hands are tied at the moment.

We are on the same boat, waiting to see how the situation will develop.

Playthings of Chance and Fate.

“We’re not here to talk politics,’’ the woman in question answers, covering her mouth with her hands while chewing on a bite of goat cheese and pomegranate seeds, ‘’but to have lunch like civilized and amiable women. To help our friend.”

“You’re right,” Brigid concludes. Nonchalantly, she pierces a piece of egg in her salmon salad and puts its on the bread provided with it, a bread called St Michael’s Bannock according to the menu. Then, she points her fork at me. “But the best thing you can do is leave him while you still can.”

“L- Leave?” Utterly confused, I look at the woman calmly eating her lunch. “Why would I do that?”

Who is she? What’s more, who is she to tell me to leave Jaebeom after what I told her? He needs help and support, regardless of what may or may not be there beneath his skin.

Unless she is on to something I am not and judging by the current circumstances, I won’t get an answer even if I dare to ask. Henceforth, if only not to snap, I clear my throat and swallow the vile words dancing on the tip of my tongue. 

“Morgan can tell you why. All I can say is that it’s better to avoid men like your lover in the first place.” She coughs and takes a sip of tea to wash down the salad leaf stuck in her throat while the woman with hair as black as night chuckles darkly. Luckily, it is only loud enough for me to hear and Brigid is too busy preventing herself from choking.  

“Sétan-, I- I mean Seán was the one to leave me, not the other way around. And we mutually agreed to part ways in favour of our own well-being.”

“Sure you did. Totally didn’t resort to throwing plates and other pieces of furniture because he rejected you.”

Morgan growls something under her breath, glaring at the woman seated next to me. However, Brigid doesn’t seem to notice the reaction she has provoked or is indifferent to it. “Or washed clothes at the ford where he so ‘happened’ to pass by. Funny how he died soon after.”

Ford? There are quite a few in Ireland, so where and most importantly, when was this? Then again, what are these two on about? Washing clothes in a ford, people dying, politics, lovers to leave. They’re like arguing voices from ancient times.

Moreover, there is the question of Seán’s life. Is he alive or dead? One moment she speaks of him as if he’s still here, but then why would Brigid remark he’s dead?

“You shut your whoremouth, traitor!” With a loud bang, Morgan slams her fists on the table. She stands up with an expression that makes me cower in fear despite not being the target of her wrath.

Behind the counter, Christian slowly comes into motion, carefully moving with the likely intent to inconspicuously circle our table and jump in if necessary. He flinches as Gráinne places a hand on his arm, holding him hard enough for her knuckles to turn white when he tries to escape from her grip in order to prevent the worst from happening. Notwithstanding, whatever the plan was, it goes to waste since he decides to listen to what his colleague tells him. Sighing deeply, he stands down although he continues to observe us.

Gráinne follows his gaze, which seems to be directed at the brown-haired woman in white, her personal target of envy. Her wolfishly fierce expression falters, growing as bleak as the ash of a great bonfire.

This time he doesn’t see how she comes apart at the seams.

Brigid calmly finishes her tea, daps her mouth on the napkin and stands up too. “Get over your crush. There’s no future for you with him. As for you, Y/N,” eyes oddly alight with motherly affection, she turns her attention to me, “and as a piece of advice from a friend, end this relationship while you still can. There’s only heartbreak ahead.”

“Thank you, but,” a wistful smile forms on my lips regardless of the urge to give into the savage nagging inside, “I can’t leave him because I made a promise to stay.”

“I see. Perhaps you’ll prove me wrong and the flowers will bloom in spring.”

And with those final cryptic words, she leaves the café after waving at the tattooed barista.

Or so Brigid intends, but her way is cut off by his colleague. 

While clumsily taking off her apron she storms outside, clenching it hard and shivering as if she’s on the brink of tears.

“Gráinne? Gráinne!” Christian runs after his colleague, pale and eyes wide with worry as he comes to a halt in the doorway. “Where are you going? Gráinne!”

Brigid places a hand on his shoulder, giving it a consoling squeeze. After giving him an encouraging slap on the back she sets off, leaving the man standing there like a defeated soldier.

“Poor lass,” Morgan whispers as she watches the female barista pass the window. Something in her tone hints at a level of familiarity between the two.

“You know her?” I ask, frowning.

“I don’t think she remembers me.” She glances at Chris, who has retreated behind the counter. He has his head bowed, smooth black locks hiding his face from the customers. Trembling fingers entwined to conceal his distress as best as possible, he resembles a man of religion fervently praying for forgiveness. “And neither does he. I saw him and his close friend, Finn, once in the woods. No, it was his brother, Jor… was it? When he came to the island. Was that… who was that?’’

A mist clouds her ocean blue eyes, lost in thoughts far removed from this world and time. ‘’He was there. As for Gráinne, we met… somewhere. There was smoke, a burning body. It was- It was at… where? Fuck, I can’t recall. I think it was at his fu-’’ she abruptly cuts herself short to correct herself with a strange undertone in her voice, “not long after I... saw them.”

‘’Morgan, are you alright? You’re looking awfully pale.’’ 

Instead of breaking free from the spell that has taken hold of her, the reverie only seems to deepen. Rocking side to side, she clutches her arms to her chest. Her skin, although naturally pale, grows sickly like a walking corpse.

‘’I- I’m supposed to remember. I’m one of the few that do. No, he and I are the only ones left that do. I can’t forget. If I do, everyone will. I can’t… I can’t!’’

‘’Morgan!’’ I stand up from my seat to rush to her side. Rubbing her arms, I try with all my might to bring her back to reality from the depths of deliria. ‘’It’s all right, Morgan, nobody is going to forget. Please listen to me and follow my voice, use it as a guide back to me from wherever it is you are. Please, come back to me.’’

‘’May I?’’ Christian has appeared with a glass of water, which he sets on the table before crouching down at the woman’s side as well.

Gently he grabs one of her hands and holds it, talking in a voice that is surprisingly steady and soothing in spite of what happened mere moments ago. It’s rougher and more gruff, making it hard to distinguish one word from another if you are not well-acquainted with the speaker.

In fact, it belongs to a completely different person. ‘’Morgan, as long as there are people who remember, there is nothing to fear. The past has taught us that what might seem like the end isn’t necessarily truly the end. We are still here. We remember because you do and you remember because we do. You’re safe and sound. Instead, return and help me make her remember.’’

‘’Why, of everyone, did you have to fall for her?’’ Gaze blinded by her mind, Morgan reaches out to tenderly run her fingers through the barista’s hair. ‘’What makes her special?’’ 

‘’She understands.’’ A similar fog veils the misty white and dark eyes, Chris or, rather, the stranger pulled into the same realm of consciousness as my friend. ‘’She broke the chains that bound me and doesn’t allow me to slip into the shadows of what I once was.’’

‘’You’re all the same, aren’t you?’’

‘’It’s rare to find understanding and acceptance in a world naturally turned against you. So, please help me. Help me find her.’’ His voice breaks, the begging words coming out  high-pitched like a whining wolf. ‘’Help me find my reason to stay in this world and not forget nor be forgotten.’’ 

The veil lifts, the spell broken with the whimpered plea. 

Christian falls back, but manages to catch himself before his head hits the tiles. Refusing every helping hand from the customers hurrying over, he scrambles to his feet. Fortunately, he accepts the chair I offer him when his dangerous swaying almost causes him to hit his head against the wall.

‘’Are you okay?’’

‘’Yeah, I’m only dizzy.’’ The hiss he lets out flows over into a sound akin to a growl. ‘’And a splitting headache.’’

Morgan has a better return to reality, completely fine aside from a dazed mind. ‘’What happened?’’

‘’You tell me.’’ I search her face for clues, a sliver of the knowledge she is lying. However, I find none.

She is telling the truth.

‘’I… I don’t know. It’s the first time.’’ She clears her throat, brow furrowed. As if having heard a noise, she snaps her head to the side. “I’m sorry, but I have to go. Drink your tea, eat a sandwich and go home early from work.”

She hands the glass of water to Christian. ‘’And you, you drink this and stay seated for at least five more minutes until the dizziness has faded. Are you nauseous?’’

‘’No. Although,’’ he dry heaves, ‘’never mind.’’

‘’Make it ten. You look as pale as a banshee.’’

‘’Speak for yourself.’’

‘’You’d make a pretty one, though,’’ Morgan muses when she returns her attention to me. ‘’Beauty makes suffering leading to death easier.’’

Apparently, her return to reality has left her as mad as a hatter so perhaps it wasn’t as good as I initially thought.

“Why on earth would you say that? Besides, what kind of comparison is that, us and a banshee?”

“One based on truth. Now,” she shoves the remainder of her goat cheese and pomegranate sandwich to me, “eat, rest up and get cracking again. We’ll be in touch and visit the new café I found yesterday later, alright?”

“Hey, not so fast. Where are you headed off to?’’

She can’t be serious. There is no way she is unaffected by what happened. 

“Attagirl,’’ Morgan says as if I promised to heed her words, ignoring what I actually said. ‘’By the way, ignore what Brigid said and stay with your man. It’s plain to see how he makes you feel.”

“It is?”

“You’re glowing and you come alive when you speak of him. It reminds me of how I was with Seán.” She starts as if awakened from a dream, but tries to hide her awkwardness behind a sheepish smile. “Well, then, take care.”

“You too.’’ The two simple words, otherwise casual, are now carefully chosen in order to not to trigger another ‘attack’.

My gut tight and skin prickling thanks to her inhuman behaviour, I watch the raven-haired woman leave. I hold my wrist, my pulse too rapid to be healthy beneath my thumb.

Like I am at death’s door.

The next morning, there’s an article in the newspaper. A man’s been found dead at the edge of the bogs near town. The cause of his demise is unknown, but there are witness accounts who said they heard a high screech late the night before. In the days that follow, their names show up one by one in funerary advertisements.

A week later, none of the witnesses are alive. Moreover, nobody has heard the screeching since, though everyone remembers the description of the sound.

It was like the howl of a banshee.

[it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream]

Opposites Attract (Paul Lahote x Reader) Chapter 3

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Warnings: Swearing

Word Count” 2.1k

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-Your POV-

They were running at a speed that seemed impossible, their size alone, impossible. The shear beauty of the animal, breath taking. This wasn’t the first time you’d dreamt of giant wolves. They visited your dreams frequently, leaving you with all sorts of un answered questions, leaving you the next day, searching “What does seeing giant wolves in your dreams mean?” Yup, you were that kinda girl. You thought there was an answer for everything, and there probably was, but you weren’t going to find the answer on google search. 

You don’t know how long you’d been in the car for. All you knew was you were in pain, then it seemed to ease and a sense of comfort washed over you. Your head felt as if it were floating, snuggled into something warm and soft. A pillow perhaps? You didn’t open your eyes to check, the pain in your abdomen and now across your whole body blinding, you’d woken a few times with a jolt, and then you passed out again. 

The next time you woke up you weren’t moving at all, which you were grateful for, the pain mixed with the motion of a moving vehicle didn’t do anything for your stomach, travel sickness was the bane of your life. Instead you found yourself in a room, the blinds drawn closed, the door shut, your body, in different clothes. A mens t-shirt? When did you get changed? Where were you? You looked around in a daze, sitting up slightly from the comfort of the pale yellow duvet set. Wooden log walls, photo frames scattered on every surface, subtle lighting and a wall lined with books, the smell of home cooking wafting through from the kitchen. You were in Emily and Sam’s guest room, how did you know this? Well for one all of the frames had pictures of the happy couple in, two, you’d stayed over once before, back when you’d been caught in a freak storm with Leah while on the beach. You vaguely remembered the place. You didn’t come over often, what with Leah and Sams history, that and as much as you liked Paul, sometimes you’d be nervous to bump into him. Paul! Speaking of Paul, you groaned and flopped back into the fluffy bed sheets. Paul was at the hotel when the pain started… where was he now? Did he drive with you back home? 

You were about to get up when Leah came bounding through the door. “Oh good I thought I could hear you awake in here.” She grinned at you. “You look like you’re feeling much better!” You pat the space beside you and Leah climbed in snuggling up to your side. 

“So, on a scale of one to ten how bad was it.” The big ‘It’ being how bad was the show in front of your long term crush. Leah shrugged as she looked at you. 

“Nothing was baddd… everyone was just worried about you, you seemed to be in some serious pain, hence why we thought it best to cut the trip short, it’s probably better that were home, it was early hours when we got here so Sam said we could just crash at his.” You raised your eye at you best friend. She was being awfully calm about the whole situation. She said Sams name in a sentence and didn’t get herself worked up. You looked down at yourself. 

“And the clothes? Or lack there of….” That’s when Leah grinned. You didn’t like the way she was looking at you. You inhaled the scent that was on the shirt. Sandel wood and aftershave, a hint of sea salt probably from the misty air outside. 

“That’s Pauls t-shirt Y/N” Your eyes went wide and you knew you were blushing.. did that mean he had undressed you. Leah noticed the panic in your eyes.

“Before you get worked up he just leant the t-shirt knowing you’d be uncomfortable in your dress, I changed you.” You audibly gave a sigh of relief, not knowing how you’d react if the guy you’d been in love with since second grade had finally seen you in your underwear. “He stayed in here with you last night you know, to make sure you were okay. He wouldn’t leave.” Leah was now proper up on one arm looking at you. You didn’t know what to make of it. You didn’t think Paul had even known you existed… You were taken from your train of thought when something started dinging. The mobile on the bedside table started beeping as texts came through one by one. Oh god, you hoped Leah hadn’t told your parents about your episode at the hotel, the last thing you needed was for them to worry. However, you realised when you picked it up, it wasn’t your phone. 

The screensaver was a picture of the guys from the res, all goofing around, it looked like it had actually been taken in Emilys kitchen. It had to be one of the guys. You realised it was Paul’s after remembering what Leah had said about him staying for some of the night. He must have forgotten it when he left. You didn’t mean to see the message but it automatically came up on screen when you tilted the Iphone in your hand.

“Such a shame we had to cancel our date last night handsome, still on for tonight?” There were a bunch of emojis next to the text, the purple devil, aubergine, water droplets. You didn’t have to be a genius to figure out whoever this girl was motives were. At first you were embarrassed, to the point where your mouth was kinda slack and Leah was asking you what was wrong. Then you were pissed. 

“He’s such a dick, honestly. I don’t know why this makes him a dick, i’m just so mad. I know I’m not the prettiest, or the funniest, or most talented or anything but jesus christ I wish he would just notice me for once instead of these girls who will put out at the drop of a freakin hat!” Leah had taken the phone from you to see what you were talking about. She groaned and then noticed your whole body was shaking, in a flash she was at the door calling for Sam and the others. All you could see was red. Your vision totally blank, the covers under your hands balled up in your fists tight, your body shaking, heating up. Somewhere in the background you could hear someone shouting at you to calm down, but this time you couldn’t. You heard the sound of ripping and then all of a sudden the world around you changed. For one, everything in the room seemed to get smaller, or maybe you got bigger? You were still angry and started lashing out, only to be tackled by something from the side, leading you to smash through the wall of the wooden house. You still didn’t understand what was happening, until you heard them in your head. 

“Y/N CALM DOWN! We know this is scary but you need to calm down.” It was Sams voice. In your head. Or maybe, the voice was coming from the 8ft black wolf hovering over you. You didn’t scream, you didn’t even seem scared, and it’s because you realised, you were a wolf too. 

-Paul’s POV-

Y/N was safe, sleeping soundly in the room next door, or so Paul thought. It wasn’t until he heard the shouting that he knew something was wrong. Leah called for help and before he knew what had happened there was a bang and Sam was tackling a wolf on the ground outside the house. 

A white wolf. Small, slim, bright, with a single grey patch of fur around an eye. Paul shifted instantly, realising the unknown wolf in front of him was in fact his imprint. He let out a low growl to Sam, even though he was the Alpha, Paul didn’t like the fact he’d just tackled his girl. He looked her over, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth almost comically, all the while Y/N stood staring and the grey wolf now in front of her, he could hear through the bond that she’d just imprinted, feel it too. Now she knew. 

-Your POV-

“Hold the fuck up.” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Part of you couldn’t tell if you were in a dream or had just gone plain crazy. The other part of you knew that everything was real but you just couldn’t process the information quick enough. “So you’re telling me, that our ancestors were these shapeshifters and the gene was passed down to us to allow us to shift into giant wolves and hunt down vampires. You know, Vampires, ‘I want to suck you blood’, creepy pale strong immortal beings with no soul? And werewolves, I mean, Shifters..” It was insane. 

“Anddd to top it off, the man i’ve had a crush on since 2nd grade is my imprint, the person I’m supposed to be with for the rest of my life?” You glared at Paul who had the audacity to wink in your direction. Looking around you noticed the other faces, all amused at your outburst. Okay, so this wasn’t a joke, it was some sick reality you were now a part of. You hadn’t looked in Leah’s direction yet, pissed that your best friend had kept such a massive secret from you. Obviously you knew it wasn’t her fault, she wasn’t aloud to tell you the tribes secret, they didn’t know that you would be another female shifter, apparently your kind were rare. It still stung a little. 

“What really sucks thought Y/N, is that you’re gonna have to cut you beautiful hair short, our human hair mimics the length of our wolf hair, hence why each of us one by one cut it all off.” Quil sat back and shrugged and Paul growled lowly, not lowly enough for heightened hearing. 

“Why now. Why. I-I have school and I have things I want to do with my life.. I can’t be a shifter..” Reality had started to sink in and you found it difficult to breath. It felt like everyone in the room was staring at you and it didn’t help that you could also hear what everyone was basically saying. Your chair was pushed back with a screech, falling over and hitting the wooden floor. 

“I-I need to get out of here, I need a minute..” You were out the door in a flash, Leah and the boys running after you. Somewhere in the distance you could make out Sam telling Paul to calm down and then heard what sounded like wolves shifting but you’d already made it to the tree line, being able to run faster than you’d imagined still in your human form. 

The air was colder the higher up you got. You didn’t know how long you’d been running for but it had been a couple of hours before you finally stopped. In the middle of nowhere, high up in the mountains you let out a scream, one that sent flocks of birds fleeing from trees, the notes of your anguish scattering in the breeze. Everything would be changing now, life as you once knew it was gone. Part of yourself would never be yours again, having to follow a pack system. Another part of you was giddy at the thought that the man you’d been in love with your whole life turned out to be the one destined for you all along, it only took shifting into a wolf for you both to realise just how compatible you were.

You’d been alone with your thoughts long enough when you heard a twig snap in the distance. The hairs on your arms stood up and your heart started beating rapidly, turning, you calmed when you noticed a familiar figure walk out into the open. 

“Paul.” You could feel the bond running through your veins, seeing him helped you breath better and the physical need and urge to be in his arms was too strong. Like he sensed it too, he was over to you in a flash, taking you in his arms, your body pressed against his, his nose buried in your hair breathing in your scent, like he was saving it to memory. 

“Y/N, it’s all going to be okay, I promise, nothing bad will ever happen to you while i’m around, I know it seems scary now, but it won’t be like this forever. You’re already so strong, and I’m lucky that fate paired me with you.”

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Yoooo. I hope you liked this chapter, I’ve had some writers block recently, just trying to keep going. I’m still not sure what direction I’m taking this fic, I do know however that this is set at the beginning of eclipse! So watch out for some vampire action!

TagList:

@mariasblogsworld

@rosella26

@punkfrogz

@jjpogueprincess

If you want to be added to this tag list please let me know, sorry if I missed anyone off! <3 Please re-blog/like/follow <3

[derelictlovefool]

Shiptober Day 31

Prompt: Red

Ship: Deputy Dean Sinclaire x Audrey Marshall

Words: 3, 757

"Hey there, Little Red Riding hood, you sure are lookin' good,"

Twigs and branches catch on her clothes, her boots stumble through the thick foliage and she ducks under low branches as she runs through the trees. Her curly red hair is messy, leaves and stray strands sticking out and flying in the wind behind her as she braces herself on the trunk of a tree and pushes herself off of it. Her lungs are burning, her face is flushed bright red from exertion and her green eyes are wide with panic.

A howl echoes through the mountains, loud and deeper than any wolf in the Whitetails. It travelled on the wind, shook the ground beneath her feet; he was close. Gaining on her. No matter how fast she ran she knew he was going to catch her.

Audrey sucks in a deep breath as she reaches the river, the familiar rolling fields of Holland Valley on the other side of the bank; it was nearing sunrise and there was not one single soul visible in the distance. She was alone. 

Another howl reminds her, not truly alone.

She squints down at the rushing water, whips her head from side to side trying to see where the river was most shallow. The water would be freezing and if it didn't carry her down stream it would no doubt slow her down. Snapping twigs behind her lunges her forward, her body tensing at the shock of the water as it engulfed her frantic form. She gulps deep breaths of air as her head resurfaces, trembling hands pushing her hair out of her face as she starts swimming to the other side of the bank.

She doesn't look back.

She doesn't have to.

A shadow hides her from the moonlight for only a moment, a large hulking figure landing on the bank in front of her with a ferocious force. She stops swimming, just wades her arms and legs in the water to keep herself afloat as she watches the creature lift its head. Large canines glint in the light as they gnash at the empty air, large ears flattened against dark brown fur as it snarled and dug its claws into the wet earth.

All Audrey can hear is the rushing water and ragged breaths from the looming beast, its brown eyes speckled with gold are zeroed in on her, keeping her locked in limbo. She doesn't breathe, doesn't blink. She's so cold.

"You're everything a Big Bad Wolf could want,"

That hulking frame moves forward, muscles strain under its fur, its large paws dipping into the water; its enormity engulfed her vision and completely hid the Valley from her sight. It walks through the water, its stomach grazing the surface of the water as it gets closer and closer. It bows its head, a low growl rumbles from its throat and fills Audrey with dread. This was it. She'd lost.

She squeezes her eyes shut, hot breath fans over her face and it's almost comforting in contrast to the chill running through her body. She thought she'd at least make it to Holland Valley this time, she'd been so close too.

Audrey purses her lips together and shoots a stream of water at the wolf's snout, laughing as it recoils and shakes its head in offense. Her green eyes scrunch up in delight as he huffs through his nose, brown eyes squinting down at her as she bobs in the water.

"You caught me," she smiles, freckled face beaming up at him as she reaches her arms towards him. His ears flick up in alert and he ducks his head down again, allowing her to wrap her arms around his strong neck. She struggles to lock her hands together behind him, giggling as he turns and walks her to the bank.

"I almost got away from you this time," She hums as her feet make purchase on the river bank, keeping hold of him as he helps her up onto the grass. The hint of a smile reflects in his brown eyes as he playfully nudges her cheek with his snout, tail wagging behind him lazily. She really hadn't gotten close to losing him, even when he slowed down and let her make some ground in the mountain range. 

A shiver runs down her spine as a cool gust of wind blows over her drenched skin and she buries her face away in the warm fur of the large wolf. Maybe jumping into the river hadn't been a good idea, but she'd gotten excited, she thought for sure she would win this one. With a heaving sigh she lifts her head, resting her chin against the firm furry chest in front of her as she pouts gently.

"It's not like it's fair when you got four legs, bet if it were me and Goldie you'd never catch up," She muses, smiling again as the wolf snorts in disbelief. His large head tosses to the side in a half hearted shake and she takes the opportunity to scratch under his chin.

"No? You think you're faster than Goldie? If you wouldn't spook her like this we'd probably be able to test that out but," She gives a playfully dramatic sigh, letting her head fall back against him, "you're just too darn scary Dean, you'd give our poor girl a heart attack." She gives him two hearty pats to really drive home her words and the huffs of breath that came from him faintly resemble laughter. She was only half-joking, if Mr Apples reaction to this form was anything to go by yer Mares would probably get used to him given due time.

Probably with a lot less biting as well. Poor Dean never yelped so loud in his life.

Another gust of wind makes her body shudder more visibly and Dean ducks his head down, nudging her side and whining gently. He settles himself down on the ground and Audrey feels her face heat up as he tosses his head back, motioning for her to hop on his large back. 

"Oh, really Darlin' you don't gotta carry me I can—"

A short clack of large teeth and firm exhale of air interrupts Audrey's weak protest, those brown eyes intense as he stared her down. Looks like there was no getting out of this one.

"Little Red Riding Hood, I don't think little big girls should go walkin' in these spooky ol' woods alone,"

His fur is warm and Audrey can't help but sigh contently as she settles on his strong back, the heat radiating off of him seeping into her skin. Her wet hair drags along his fur as she rests her head down, burying her small hands into the silky brown fur as he lifts up carefully. It was a little embarrassing, she couldn't explain why, he'd carried her plenty in this form and the other. But she felt so small on the mass of his back, like a fairy hitching a ride of a dog. 

She giggles at the thought, figuring she'd tell him about it when he could actually talk back to her. The howls and snuffs and whines were cute and all but didn't make for much intelligent conversation. She runs her fingers along his back, letting his fur slide through them as he walks. Feeling his muscles move under her was intimidating, it always felt like the first time she got on a horse. Back when she was a small girl, the horses in her Pop's barn seemed like mammoths, big enough to crush her under one stray hoof.

But they never did, they were patient and gentle when she was put on their backs; just like Dean. His usual careless stride was even, each paw placed under him with care as to not jostle her around too much. She tried to lean her head to the side and catch his eyes, but her small stature didn't allow for it. With a gentle huff she lightly pulls herself up a smidge, so she could peak between the large fluffy ears atop his head.

She eyed them for a moment before reaching a hand up and scratching behind one, smiling as it flicked once before he cocked his head to the side. He lets out a half howl, half bark, it's short and sounds happy so Audrey keeps her hand there with a delighted smile on her face.

"You know if my Daddy would've known one day I'd meet a boy who turned into a wolf every full moon I think he would'a moved us out of Hope County faster than you could say—Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious," Audrey grins to herself, picturing the scenario in her head perfectly. Dean turns his head at that and she drops her hand down as her green eyes lock onto his, her face melting into a pleased smile as she rests her chin on her arms.

"Glad he didn't though, I'm happy I got to meet you mister, don't ever doubt it," She hums, lazily sweeping her arm down in attempts to boop his snout. She falls short and instead pokes his furry cheek, squealing and withdrawing her hand as he playfully bites at the air. He howl-barks again and bounces her gently on his back, his tail whipping behind them enthusiastically. Even without any words she knew exactly what he'd just said and it made her heart swell in her chest.

"Yeah I love you too Darlin'," 

She nuzzles her face in his fur, breathes in that smell of pinewood and wet earth and feels herself relax against him. She closes her eyes as he carefully manoeuvres them down a steep slope; sticking to the river to avoid getting spotted. She didn't feel that same wave of anxiety she had felt the first time she'd gone out with him in this form, she'd been worried sick they'd get caught and something horrible would happen. Thankfully it turns out even the night owls of Holland Valley didn't come out at this hour.

"What big eyes you have, the kind of eyes that drive wolves mad, so just to see that you don't get chased, I think I ought to walk with you for a ways,"

They sneak through the open fields, past sleeping cows, over barb wire fences and through small clusters of trees; it's peaceful. Audrey's favourite part of the day used to be when the sun was setting, when she got to sit on her back porch and enjoy the wind down from a hard day's work. But now she would say it was dawn, when it was just her and Dean and the sound of birds waking up with the sun.

Her house stands tall at the end of her farm, the horses and Mr Apples still sound asleep in the stables as they get there. Dean is careful to be extra quiet, shuffling around the back of the house and laying down beside the back porch. Audrey slides down his back and onto the ground, shivering as his warmth disappears and the wind starts biting at her skin again. She turns and runs her eyes along the sky, a majority of it was still that deep blue but to the east there were splashes of reds, oranges and purples bleeding over the horizon.

Dean nudges her with his snout and she cups his large face in her hands, pressing a kiss between his eyes before resting her forehead against his. Home just on time, like always. She didn't know how Dean managed to keep time better as a wolf than a human, she figured it was a nature thing.

"Guess I owe you pancakes, since you won again."  She says as she leans back, giggling as those big brown eyes flash with excitement. His large head nods eagerly and she has to step back to avoid getting knocked over. She was lucky she wasn't behind him, that large tail wagging faster than helicopter blades behind him as his tongue lolled out of his mouth. The boy did love his pancakes.

"Okay big guy, remember to wipe your feet before you come inside this time—or your mopping up the mud this time," She waggles her index finger at him playfully and he shuts his mouth and nods obediently, huffing a short breath of air through his nose. She could just hear his sweet voice in her head, saying 'yes ma'am!' with fake seriousness laced into his words. Giddiness bubbled away in her stomach, eager to be hearing that voice again.

She gives his snout another quick peck before hustling inside, beelining for her bedroom to change out of her wet clothes and into a dry set. She couldn't be bothered to dry her hair so she threw it up into a messy ponytail, stopping to grab Dean a pair of fresh clothes before making her way to the kitchen. She walks to the back door, holds the folded clothes up with one hand and points at them with the other. She can see the mirth swirling in those brown eyes as she sets them down on the chair beside the door before giving him a thumbs up.

She keeps her eyes on the clock and the sky as she cooks, waiting to hear those familiar footsteps walk through the back door.

"What full lips you have, they're sure to lure someone bad, so until you get to Grandma's place, I think you ought to walk with me and be safe,"

Sunlight creeps in through the kitchen window, Audrey puts on a pot of coffee and grabs two plates from the cupboards. The floorboards creek behind her, the back door opening and closing causing her heart to riot against her ribcage. She doesn't turn around, flipping one of the pancakes onto one of the white ceramic plates before pouring in the batter for a new one.

She can hear the rustling of clothes, small sounds of exertion as Dean pulls them over his tired limbs. Then she hears him stride across the kitchen floor, hears him muffle a yawn behind his hand as he steps behind her. His arms wrap around her waist and she smiles as his lips press into his shoulder. His firm chest presses against her back as he nuzzles into her neck, his soft lips trailing even more kisses along her skin.

"You're cold," He chuckles.

His hot breath fans over her skin and she shivers, feeling a rush of heat pour into her cheeks as she twists her head around to look at him over her shoulder. His brown eyes catch on the sunlight, sparkling like tree sap as she looks down at her with an affectionate gaze. It seeps into her bone marrow, melting her from within and she leans back into his hold with a fluttery heart.

"Some mean ol' wolf chased me into the river," She says in a hushed tone, green eyes bunching up and dimples digging into her cheeks as a grin grows on the brunettes face. He pulls her more flush against her, leans over her so his taller frame is wrapping around her and he attacks her face with a flurry a kisses. He uses her freckles as small targets, taking his time to kiss every one on her cheek before she becomes impatient and pulls him down to meet her lips.

He tastes like wildberries and something else she doesn't try to dwell on too long, her free hand reaching up to tangle in his messy hair as he rest his large hand on her neck. This kiss almost made up for her getting drenched in the freezing river—Almost.

The coffee maker beeps and Audrey pouts as Dean leans back, pressing a defiant kiss to the underside of his jaw as he turns. 

"How about after breakfast we have a nice warm bath," He suggests, stepoing to the right to p uill out thie rmugs from one of the cabinets. Audrey turns her attention back to the pancakes, throwing a non comittal glance at the time as she flips another pancake onto a plate.

"It'll have to wait, we're already behind time on chores—after that we'll really be ready for a long soak." She huffs gently, smiling as Dean whines quietly; pouring the dark liquid into their mugs before shanbling to the fridge to grab the milk. Farm life was tough work, but it was worth it and she knew Dean didn't really mind. Full moon nights just tended to make him more tired the next day, transforming took a big toll on his body. She almost felt bad asking him to do chores at all but the last time she suggested he go to bed he refused and got straight to work.

She did find him asleep with Diamond in the barn not long after, using the hay the mare was snacking on as a pillow, but either way she knew he would rather give it a shot than opt out completely.

"I'm gonna' keep my sheep suit on until I'm sure that you've been shown that I can be trusted, walking with you alone,"

Dean pushes their chairs next to each other as Audrey puts their plates down, he dutifully sets the coffee mugs down and sits in his seat; watching her patiently as she sets the pan in the sink. When she sits down he leans over and pecks her shoulder, nudging their knees together and resting his hand on her thigh. Despite her aching limbs Audrey feels lighter than a feather, she loved how affectionate and cuddly Dean got around full moon's. He'd always get flustered when she asked why it happens, giving dissmissive answers and changing the subject.

She'd googled information on wolves so many times it made up most of her internet search history; she'd concluded it was a wolf thing but boy did Dean hate it when she told him her theories. Especially when she threw the word 'mate' around with a devillish grin on her soft face. He really did get as red as a cherry over it and she loved it. She loved that it was a wierd, protective, werewolf thing. 

Especially seeing as she got to steal twice as many shirts from him because of it.

"I dibs chicken duty," Dean declares after scarfing down his first pancake. His ravenous appetite really showing as maple syrup dripped down his chin. Audrey snorts and grabs a napkin from the middle of the table, wiping his face and giggling as he shoots her a dopey smile. No matter what time of year or whatever point the moon cycle was at he was always her lovable, messy dorky boyfriend.

"Alright, just don't fall asleep in the coop," She teases gently and he rolls his eyes immediately.

"It was one time—and you had me running all around the Whitetails lookin' for you, I was tired," He throws his left arm up animatedly before pointing at her with his fork. She slaps the metal utensil away with her own before cutting another piece of her pancake and bringing it up to her mouth.

"You never said hiding wasn't allowed," She hums, smugness rolling off of her as she plops the sweet baked good into her mouth. Dean squints his eyes at her but the smile on his lips betrays him.

"It was implied," He drawls the word out before stabbing his pancake with his fork. Audrey stifles a laugh behind her hand as he lifts the whole pancake up and bites a chunk out of it. He keeps his eyes trained across tthe room as she giggles, bowing her head and trying not to choke on the pancake in her mouth.

"You are an animal," She giggles, all too aware of the irony as he looks down at her.

"Awoo," He howl's playfully, grinning as she slaps his chest gently. She'd had enough howling. He lifts his hands uo from her thigh to catch under her chin, tilting it up so he could dip his head down and steal another kiss. It's sweet, of not a bit sticky—maple syrup coating both of their lips. Audrey giggles against his lips thinking about it, feels him smile against her before he leans back only by a fraction.

His tongue drags along her bottom lip, but he doesn't dive in as her lips part eagerly. Instead he leans back in his seat, leaving her with her eyes closed, waiting for him to finish what he started. He caresses her cheek with his thumb and her eyes flutter open in confusion, a pout making its way onto her lips as she noted how far away her was again. 

"Little Red Riding Hood I'd like to hold you if I could but you might think I'm a big, bad wolf, so I won't,"

His eyes are swimming with tenderness though and the loving smile on his face makes it hard for her to be upset. It was probably for the best, making out mid breakfast would most likely not be super enjoyable now that she thought about it. But damn did she really want to kiss him silly.

"I love you,"

Audrey blinks up at him owlishly, his sincere words settling over her like a warm blanket. She can feel her heart skip a beat, despite having heard him say those words plenty times over it still made her weak at the knees. Good thing she was sitting down for it this time.

"I love you too," She smiles, resting her hand over his and pressing a firm kiss to his palm. His eyes dance with delight, that familiar pink hue slowly retuening to his cheeks as he nuzzles her cheek into his hand. 

"You really did almost get away from me there for a second y'know," He muses, taking another bite of his pancake. Audrey's mouth flies open in suprise and she straightens up in her seat immediately. 

"No shit, really?" Excitement drips off her words at the thought, preemptively bounching in her chair as he chews thoughtfully, not turning back to meet her hopeful gaze.

"Nah, not even close," He grins wolfishly and all the hope fizzles out of the red head in seconds.

"Oh fuck you! Ya got my hopes up there for nothin'!"

"Next time baby, I believe in you,"

"What a big heart I have; the better to love you with. Little Red Riding Hood even bad wolves can be good,"

[komfortkiri]

HELP WANTED (PART 2)

WOLF QUIRK F!READER x HANTA SERO x EIJIRO KIRISHIMA WORD COUNT: 2,997 TW/CW: ABSENT PARENT MENTION (I know some people get really bothered about absent parents)

NOTES: No banner yet. And yes, I posted two parts in one day BECAUSE I’M LIVING FOR THIS. The next part I’ll include things from Kiri and Sero’s POV. I got tired toward the end of this one and wanted to finish and post it before going to sleep.

Your alarm went off at 6:45 AM, allowing you more time to actually get ready and look like a decent human being.. well, sort of. You laid there for a moment, though, thinking that if this really went well, you could be leaving within the next week. You’d have to tell your father and though he’d be hurt, it wasn’t like you wouldn’t come back to visit. With a deep breath, you threw your legs off the side of the bed, holding your arms over your head to stretch. The stretch was so good that you almost fell back into your mattress and went back to sleep but you shook your head and rose to your feet, proceeding to your bathroom to shower.

After you took your shower from Hell, you walked out of your bathroom and back into your room, making your way to your closet to browse over the clothes you had. You realized quickly that you should probably do some upgrading to your wardrobe but you’ll worry about that another day. Your eyes scanned over everything and nothing really stood out to you so you pulled out your phone to check the weather, seeing that it was pretty cold out— roughly 23 degrees. Coffee definitely sounded luxurious right now and that thought alone made you check the time to see that it was now 7:15 AM. You took a little longer in the shower but the scorching water felt like Heaven to you.

You sighed, taking a long-sleeved, burgundy turtleneck half-shirt off of a hanger along with a pair of black high-waisted jeans. You tossed both articles of clothing onto the bed then went to your small dresser in the corner of your room to open the top drawer, pulling out a white colored bra and a matching pair of panties to go with it. You closed that drawer then opened the second drawer, getting some black socks that rose to just under your knee. Once you had everything, you dropped your towel then threw your undergarments on, along with your socks.

During your dressing, you received a text message from the Kiri person so you rushed over to it, hoping they weren’t cancelling the get together. Relief washed over you whenever you read the message.

FROM KIRI: Morning! Wanted to send you a text to tell you that me and my roommate are getting ready and should be at the coffee shop closer to 8:30 AM. We still on?

You replied rather quickly, it was almost creepy.. like you were waiting for a text.

TO KIRI: Good morning! Yes, of course! I’m getting ready right now as well.. I may be there earlier than you both since it’s right around the corner from me!

Once the message delivered, you threw your phone back onto your bed then put on your shirt and pants, which had a special made hole just for your tail, then walked over to your full body mirror hanging on the wall. “Not bad.. Not bad at all.” It was almost like you were hoping these were men that you were meeting. You scoffed at your thought, nah. You walked back to the bathroom to grab your hair brush, one for the hair on your head and another for the fur on your tail. It was weird in a way.. you had to color coordinate what you used for your tail because the fur wasn’t as soft as your actual hair was. Once you finished grooming yourself, you put on a pair of flat-bottom, over-the-knee, black boots. 

Time, what was the— shit! Your damned tail, taking so much time to brush through. It was now 8:05 so you had to rush a little bit if you wanted to be extra early and order what you needed so you grabbed your black trench coat off your coat rack, grabbed your phone then your backpack that held your wallet and other necessities that you may need throughout the day and booked it out of your room and out of your front door. Your dad must have had to work this morning, considering his car wasn’t out front but nonetheless, you expected as much from a police officer.

NO TIME TO THINK, you thought so you turned in the direction of the coffee shop and started walking. Your walking turned into walking fast then into.. running, which doesn’t affect you much considering it’s part of who you are. You thankfully had a bottle of perfume with you, just in case you smelt like a wet dog and you sprayed a few pumps amongst your coat and a few on your neck. You took a minute to catch your breath right outside Camille’s front door then walked in.

“My, my.. Look who it is! If it isn’t my dear Y/N! I haven’t seen you in a few weeks, must be pulling extra shifts at the animal shelter, huh?” Camille practically rushed to you, bringing you into a hug. All you could do was smile and accept her embrace then return it. If you were being honest, you really needed the hug. “Hi, Camille! I’m sorry I haven’t been visiting like I normally do. I have picked up a few more shifts so I can save up for a place of my own.” You took a seat at your usual spot, right up close to where she made most things. There was a small little bar, in which, Camille practically saved your seat every morning when you started coming in. She was like a mom to you, which was nice in its own way considering yours wasn’t worth a shit. 

Camille knew just about everything about your life so you felt awful knowing that you hadn’t been around in a few weeks but you had to do what you need to first. “You know, darling, whenever you stopped coming in, these two very handsome boys started coming in every morning. It was almost fate in a way. They kept me company while you were gone, but don’t get me wrong, I’m glad my favorite girl is back.” Boys? Was this elderly woman really trying to hint at hooking you up right now? All you could do was shake your head and laugh as she set your usual in front of you— hot hazelnut coffee, extra sweet. You lifted the glass mug to your lips, speaking from behind it, “Boys, huh? Camille, are you trying to set me up?” A smirk formed along your face as you took a sip of the coffee, humming softly in satisfaction, your ears falling back some. She always did make the best coffee, it never failed.

The older woman laughed then leaned back onto the counter opposite from the one you were at, “Now, you know I wouldn’t meddle into your love life, dear. All I’m saying is, they are complete gentleman.” She leaned forward on her elbow, whispering her next statement. “If I was year and years younger, I’d probably take both of them.” This made you snort then double over in laughter, “Camille! Shame on you!” All she did was shrug then before she could respond, her eyes lit up when she realized who was entering her shop. You noticed this look and raised an eyebrow, sipping your coffee. Camille realized your eyes were on her and she nodded toward the door, mouthing that’s them. You tried your best not to make it obvious but you turned your head just enough to the side to peer over your shoulder and boy, she was not kidding. However, these were definitely not boys.. they were pure men. 

You quickly turned your head before they realized you were ogling them, your insides heating up. All you could think of was how the good Lord above took his sweet time crafting both of them. Your heightened sense of hearing allowed you to listen in on what was being said between both of the guys and Camille so you just barely turned your left ear to the side, lifting your coffee again to take another sip.

“My boys! Where have you been? Fighting crime as usual?” Camille greeted both with a big hug each before one of them answered her. “Yes ma’am, you know us. We have to make sure nothing happens to your wonderful coffee shop.” Your heart skipped a beat at that statement. Smooth. “Always such sweethearts, come. I want you to meet another regular of mine.” Please don’t, please don’t, plea— “Y/N?” Your face was probably as red as a beet at this point but you turn anyway with a smile that was semi-forced. You hadn’t much prepared well on talking to… very, very attractive men. “Boys, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Eijiro and Hanta.” You shook each of their hands, your insides felt like they were being lit on fire at this point.

The man known as Kirishima smiled, “You can call me either Ei, Eiji or Kiri, though.” The fire was immediately put out by his statement. You were thanking all the Gods that you didn’t have your coffee in your hand because you would have dropped it. “D-Did you say Kiri?” You cleared your throat, scratching the back of your head nervously. 

“Yeah, do you know me? I mean, I’m a pro-hero but do you know someone I know or—“ You cut him off, not meaning to, but you had to get it out. “No, I.. I inquired about the roommate ad you had put up. We texted this morning and last night?” Kirishima and Sero’s eyes widened and they looked at each other. Something tells you they really weren’t expecting the person they were meeting to be a woman, but you were in the same boat because you didn’t expect for the two people you were meeting to be two gorgeous piece of asses either.

Sero spoke this time as he looked back at you, “So you are looking to be our roommate?” You blushed a soft shade of pink, not really knowing how to properly answer that but you did anyway. “Well, I-I didn’t really plan on you guys being, well… guys.” Both men laughed then Kirishima sat next to you, Sero sitting next to him on the other side. Camille put their coffees in front of him, Sero’s was partnered with a bagel. She gave you a wink then rushed back to the kitchen, peering out the little window in the door. All you could do was shake your head with a grin. “If it makes you uncomfortable, you definitely don’t have to move in with us but we’d like to be your friend.” 

You smiled at that but thought of the trouble you’d get yourself in just by being their friend. It was almost impossible not to yank both by their collars to the bathroom and— “Wolf quirk, eh?” Sero’s voice shook you out of your inappropriate thoughts. It’s almost like he knew where your head was spiraling to. “Y-Yeah. My dad is also part wolf as well.” You nodded, clearing your throat even though you really didn’t need to as there was nothing to clear. 

“What about your mom?” Sero pressed, not knowing that talking about your mother was something you hated doing. You sighed quietly, eyes darting in front of you to a blank space on the white wall in front of you. Your ear fell back, tone filled with… hatred when you spoke, which you didn’t intend for, but your burning rage for her was not controllable. “Don’t know her. She left not too long after I was a baby. Just up and left in the middle of the night and nobody has seen her since.” 

Kirishima looked at Sero, eyes saying way to go, idiot. He wanted to lighten the mood so he changed the subject quickly, “So, uh.. about your quirk..” You three sat there for what felt like hours just talking, having casual conversation. They asked about your quirk, showing high interest in every aspect of it. You reassured them that you didn’t shed hair so they didn’t need to worry about any of that. You didn’t realize that they were pro-heroes until they told you their hero names and you almost choked on your semi-hot coffee. You had heard of both but you never really are around the action to put a face to the name. They both do a lot of good work around your city, in which, you are thankful for with your father being on the police force. Without them, your dad would probably have been hurt or worse. 

Your anger about your mother had withered away and you were really enjoying yourself with the two men next to you. Your tail was moving to-and-fro the entire time, meaning you were happy. It got silent at one point and that prompted to Sero clear his throat then bump his elbow into Kirishima’s own, basically trying to push on this conversation. Kirishima turned his body a little toward you, his tone was soft, “Um.. This roommate thing.. It’s obvious you aren’t a serial killer, unless you’re a really good actor. You don’t have to give us an answ—“ You held your finger up with a smile because it was clear he was about to start rambling on due to nerves and not wanting to overstep. “You don’t have to say anymore. I’m super down for being your roommate.” It seemed like relief washed over the both of them because they smiled at you. “Hell yeah, you can move your stuff in at any time. Just let us know when so we can help you.” Sero nodded in your direction and you nodded back with a smile.

Moving in.. with two insanely attractive men.. What could go wrong, right?

[goldnratio]

Inconvenient Interruptions (Spencer Reid x reader)

Summary: the team has to catch an unsub at a nightclub. spencer is paired up with female reader. they flirt, dance, and confess some feelings.

Warnings: briefly mentioned killings, some touching and kissing, microscopic teen wolf and beetlejuice references, a little ooc Spencer I think, and some guns at the end

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: I’m thinking of doing a part 2 that’s smut but idk yet,,, this is a hot mess but enjoy :))

—

Going undercover wasn’t so bad, you’d done it plenty of times while working for the BAU. Usually you’d go by yourself - with the rest of the team and local cops outside - or with a partner, and that sometimes meant you’d portray friends or lovers. Having been paired up with everyone on the team at least once, you’d probably say that you preferred pairing up with Spencer Reid. You were comfortable with the whole team, but you felt different with Spencer. You liked him, and you only hoped he felt the same. If not, then all the casual flirting back and forth would have just gone waste.

This case involved another serial killer, identified as forty-one year old Adam Raeken, that was going around Los Angeles, California and preying on all types of young couples. He seemed to have favored night clubs; abducting a couple from one club, and disposing their bodies somewhere near a different club. So far, he managed to abduct and kill six different couples without getting caught, and your team was hoping to catch him before he got a seventh.

After learning when and where Adam would strike next - around 9:30 PM at a club a few miles from the LA police station called ‘Dante’s Inferno’ - every available unit was going to be deployed.

Turned out, ‘Dante’s Inferno’ was a pretty big club, both in size and popularity. In an effort to try and catch Adam without causing a mass panic, every officer and agent was to go in plain clothes, along with the law enforcement waiting outside.

Even though the informant gave a rough time estimate, the team got there when the bar first opened at 8:00 PM to keep tabs on everyone who walked into the club.

—

Hotch made you and Spencer partners, assigning you the task of focusing on scoping the bar area for Adam.

You’d chosen a short, red bodycon dress that hugged your curves with matching heels and a loaded gun in your bag, acting coy with Spencer while you all waited for Adam to show up.

“What’s a girl like you, doing in a place like this?” Spencer said as he got comfortable in the bar seat next to you.

You take a sip from your non-alcoholic beverage and grin, “You use that opener with all the ladies?”

“Just the gorgeous ones.”

“Well to answer your question, I’m looking for someone.” Your smile feigns innocence, except Spencer can see the humor in your eyes.

“Really? A pretty girl looking for someone? I would’ve guessed someone here would be looking for you.”

“Most days, but tonight is special. He’s unique.” You wink at Spencer and he laughs.

“I’m sure he is. With a woman like you after him, he’s a lucky guy.”

You sigh dramatically. “That depends on if I find him tonight,” you take another sip from your drink, “if not, I’ll have to go home all by myself.”

“Oh please, I’m sure any man in here -“

Static coming from your earpieces interrupts him.

“Reid, (Y/L/N), if you could focus on the case, please.”

“Sorry, Hotch,” you blush, looking away from Spencer.

“Yeah, sorry, Hotch,” Spencer cleared his throat, “we’ll focus.”

“You can flirt off the clock after we’ve caught Raeken,” Emily teased.

You saw her down at the end of the bar with JJ and stuck your tongue out at her. JJ tries not to laugh as Emily fake gags.

“Ladies, if you can keep it together for the rest of the night, you can have your pick of a wine bottle from my cellar,” Rossi chuckled.

“Got it.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You bet.”

No one saw, but Hotch rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

You quickly scanned the other people at the bar and a portion of the dance floor, making sure Adam hasn’t showed up early.

Your attention directs back to Spencer when he puts a shy hand on your waist and leaned in close to your side without the earpiece and microphone, so close that you felt his hair tickle and his breath hot on your skin.

“You know, we were ordered to come in plain clothes.”

Two can play this game, you thought.

Placing one hand on the back of his neck to play with his curls and the other on his bicep, you lean forward towards his earpiece-less side. “Plain clothes just means ‘not a uniform.’ This look like a uniform to you?” You softly squeeze his bicep, sitting up and taking another sip from your beverage.

Spencer simply shakes his head and smirks. “I just realized I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a dress.”

“I don’t think a dress, much less one like this, would be...appropriate…in the field.”

“I think I could imagine a few places it would be appropriate,” Spencer countered.

“Yeah?” You hum, “like where—“

“Alright it’s nine o’clock. Make sure you are on alert in the next twenty-five minutes so that we’re ready if he sticks to the time,” Hotch interrupts.

A series of ‘okay’s’ are heard in your earpiece.

“and (Y/L/N), Reid? Just because you’re not talking into the earpieces, doesn’t mean we can’t hear you.”

This time, it’s a series of your teammates’ laughs in your ear.

“Right, sorry...again,” Spencer answered.

You gave a small laugh and issued your second apology as Spencer excused himself to use the restroom.

—

As soon as he got in the restroom, Spencer took out his earpiece. Right before he walked into a stall, the restroom door opened and revealed none other than SSA Derek Morgan, who also took out his earpiece.

“Reid, my man!” Derek clapped his hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “Who knew you had that kinda game in you, buddy?”

“Oh my god, Derek, please don’t do this now,” Spencer deadpanned.

“Do what?”

Spencer can’t help but give him the ‘seriously?’ look.

Derek smiled. “Look, kid. All I’m going to say is that it’s obvious you’re both into each other, you should go for it.”

“That’s just it, I don’t know if she really likes me or it’s just the friendly flirting or the fact that we’re technically undercover right now!”

“Kid, I’ve gone undercover with (Y/N) before, and trust me when I say that her flirting with you is real. And I’m sure you’ve noticed that she doesn’t ‘friendly flirt’ with anyone else other than you.”

Spencer sighs. “You really think she’s into me?”

“Of course I do. You’re a great guy, Reid. You two deserve each other.”

“Thanks, Derek...but is that it because I came in here to actually use the restroom.”

“Oh,” Derek laughs, “my bad, Reid. I just came in to wash my hands but I’ll let you get to your business.”

“Right...see you out there.”

—

When Spencer made his way back to the bar, the last thing he expected to see was a man trying to hit on you. He walked a little faster to you and noticed how your eyes lit up when he got there.

“Oh look! Here he is!”

The mystery guy looked at Spencer, and he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy at the thought of this man making a move on you while he wasn’t there.

“Who are you?” He asked Spencer in a bitter tone.

Spencer took a step closer to you and put an arm around your shoulders, “Her boyfriend.”

Luckily the man got the hint and left, and Spencer’s arm loosened up on your shoulders.

“Sorry I left, I didn’t think anything would happen in such a short time.”

Reaching for one of his hands and you give it a quick squeeze. “It’s not your fault, and um, thank you.”

“No problem.”

You both sit in silence - as much silence that’s possible at a crowded club with music that’s blaring, until you hear a familiar beat. You glance at your watch, it's almost 9:10 PM and you realize there’s time to have some fun.

“Hey,” you look up at Spencer, “you wanna dance?”

His instincts almost kick in to say no. But then Derek’s restroom advice is ringing in his head, ‘you should go for it.’

He gives you a hesitant smile, “Yeah, let’s go.”

“Okay, just a sec.” You reach for your earpiece. “Hey guys? Spence and I are gonna scope out the dance floor.”

“You sure you’re not going just to dance with Pretty Ricky?”

Spencer blushed.

“Yes, Derek. We are also going to dance, we have to blend in.”

“Just stay focused,” Hotch reminds you.

With Hotch’s semi-blessing, you grab Spencer’s hand and lead him to the middle of the dance floor.

At first, Spencer is a little stiff, but you’re patient with him as he tries to find a rhythm that works for him. In any other circumstance, Spencer would’ve lost his mind trying to dance to music so loud that he can feel it in his bones while surrounded by sweaty bodies. He can only tolerate it because you’re with him.

Only because it’s his large hands that have a tight grip on your hips.

Only because it’s his long fingers dangerously close to the curve of your ass.

Only because it’s your hands in his hair.

Only because it’s his eyes your gaze is burning into.

Only because it’s your body moving in sync with his.

The upbeat music lasted a few good songs, but the music transitioned into something slower. It sounds like R&B, but you lose focus with how Spencer’s hands feel on your lower back, practically burning through your dress. And how good he smells. And how handsome he looks in the club’s colorful lighting. You almost forget why you’re in the club in the first place.

Your hands are on his shoulders, slowly traveling to the back of his head to thread your fingers in his hair as he leans forward to bring his face closer to yours. Neither of you say anything while you stare at each other, both too afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing.

You don’t know who leans in first, but you can feel Spencer’s nose brush against yours and his lips are just millimeters away and -

“All agents, I have eyes on the target. I repeat, I have eyes on the target.”

Crap, it was finally 9:30.

You quickly pull apart from each other, despite the disappointment evident in both of your faces.

“Copy that. Where’s he by?” You’re looking around the dance floor but don’t see him.

“Raeken is approaching the bar. Remember to proceed with caution, we want to avoid casualties.”

You double check the dancing crowd to make sure there’s other plain clothed law enforcement, not wanting to leave anything to chance.

“Let’s go get a drink, all this moving made me thirsty.” You kiss Spencer’s cheek, and his face is flushed as he follows you to the bar.

Adam’s already ordering a drink, so you settle a few seats away. To avoid suspicion, you order drinks for yourself and Spencer, but he looks tense and you’re hoping no one notices.

You wrap your arms around Spencer’s neck to get closer so he’ll hear you. “You’re too stiff, follow my lead.”

Moving just a few feet closer to Adam, you purposefully drop your drink, gaining the attention of the people around you.

“Oh no!” you pout.

When Spencer asks the bartender for a rag, he sees Adam staring at you with a dark look in his eyes. Spencer doesn’t like it but he has no choice but to stick to whatever plan you have.

Spencer turns back to you and helps you clean up your spilled drink. Fortunately, the cup was plastic and not glass.

Once the mess is cleaned up, you thank the bartender for the rug and ‘accidentally’ bump into Adam.

“Sorry about that,” you fake giggle.

He smirks at you, his eyes never leaving your body. You fight the urge to arrest him right there.

“No worries, gorgeous.” He takes a sip from his own drink as you walk back to Spencer.

You hug him again, and his hands gravitate towards the middle of your back. “Is Raeken looking?”

Spencer nods.

“Okay, good. Sorry about this in advance.”

That’s when you lean in to kiss him and you lightly push down on his arms. Luckily, Spencer gets the idea and moves his hands to your backside and squeezes. He relishes in the taste of your mouth and the sound of your moan, until you break the kiss.

He has to remind himself how to breathe when you ask him if he wants to get out of there, just loud enough for Adam to hear. You wink at Adam as you walk past him, anticipating him to follow you as you lead Spencer to the club’s exit.

“Hotch, he’s leaving with Reid and (Y/L/N).”

“Start to make your way towards the exit, we’ll catch him outside.”

Some officers stay inside, while the rest of your team is following you three out.

Outside, you’re surrounded by police cars to ensure the serial killer’s capture, who was just a few seconds behind you and Spencer. You quickly throw on some vests you were handed and pull out your gun.

Adam walks out of the club and the look on his face is priceless.

“Adam Raeken, freeze!”

He tries to make a run for it back into the club, but your team is already blocking the entrance, guns pointed straight at him.

In a matter of minutes, Adam is cuffed, being read his Miranda rights, and in the back of a cop car.

Before heading back to the LA precinct, you want to talk with Spencer.

“Hey Spence,” you pull him to the side, “can we talk really quick?”

“Of course, (Y/N).”

You walk away from the crowd of law enforcement and onlookers leaving the club.

“Listen, about the kiss and everything I said at the bar, I’m sorry again for springing that on you. It was completely unprofessional of me and unfair to you.”

Spencer cleared his throat. “No uhh, don’t worry. I’m sorry about what I said at the bar too, but the kiss thing was okay, really, I enjoyed it.”

You giggle and he immediately realizes what he said.

“Wait I didn’t mean that - I mean - Not that I didn’t enjoy it, because to be honest, I did and -“

He’s surprised by the feeling of your lips on his, and he’s already kissing you back before he brain can even process it.

You pull back with a small smile on your face. “Spencer, I like you too.”

He sighs in relief, “Oh good, if not this would’ve been awkward.”

“Totally,” you laugh in agreement, “but um, since the case is over, do you maybe wanna get a cup of coffee or something when we get back?”

“I’d like that, yeah.”

“Okay, great! I guess we can-“

“Hey, Romeo! Juliet!”

Your’s and Spencer’s heads whip to the direction of the voice, belonging to a very smug Derek Morgan.

“You two done over there? Because we’ve got a case to wrap up and a plane home to catch!”

You yell back, “In a minute!”

Spencer’s yelling, “Alright! We’ll be right there!” at the same time.

“We can talk more about this,” you gesture between the two of you with your hands with a grin, “later.”

You’re both wearing smiles on your faces as you walk shoulder-to-shoulder, back to your team, trying not to think about the numerous questions they’re about to ask.