#i cant even draw a circle right now i lost all my muscle memory MUSCLE MEMORY IS ALL I HAVE

[royalich]

How do yall like.. draw i guess damn

[carry-the-sky]

your tongue told me every lie

back on my brio bullshit! this is an old fic that i decided to clean up a bit, and then *ahem* add an e rating to. it’s set in some vague s2 timeline, because i miss s2. :/

inspired by this fantastic piece of art by @lindigo 🔥🔥🔥 also on ao3!!

many thanks to my dear friend @kastlecastles for looking this over. <3

.

The day after the cops almost find Boomer’s body, Annie suggests they take the night off, just the three of them. No work, no family—

“And no extracurricular friends,” Annie emphasizes, side-eyeing Beth as she says it, which Beth does not appreciate. She’s about to say as much, but then Ruby is emerging from the closet, holding a dress Beth has no memory of buying. It’s sleek and cherry-red, and she feels exposed just looking at it. 

“No—” she starts to protest, but Ruby holds up a hand.

“You’re wearing it,” she says, fixing Beth with a stare that chases her rebuttal back down her throat. “Don’t get me wrong, you rock a pantsuit better than Hillary—”

“Way better than Hillary,” Annie interjects, then shrugs when Beth glares at her.

“—but we’re going glam, tonight,” Ruby finishes. She hangs the dress on the door. “You’re wearing it.”

And that’s the end of that.

.

She brings the dress to work. It hangs on the back of the door to Dean’s office—her office, now, her door—and Beth feels a small thrill every time she sees it, anticipation and nerves all blended up in the pit of her stomach.

It’s not that she‘s ashamed of her body, or the way she looks. She knows her curves are sexy. She’s just not sure anyone else does.

(Beth absolutely does not think about Rio. She doesn’t think about his hungry eyes raking up the entire length of her body, or the way his tongue sometimes darts between his teeth when he’s looking at her. She doesn’t think about that night at the bar, how firm his hand was when he grasped her thigh, palmed the curve of her breast—)

Beth keeps her door wide open the rest of the day.

.

She’s utterly exhausted by closing time, but it’s a good feeling. I can do this, she thinks as she packs up, doing one last circuit around the sales floor. I can do this well.

She hasn’t forgotten about the dress, but that light and airy anticipation from earlier has evaporated, leaving her stomach heavy with dread. For a moment, Beth considers telling Annie and Ruby that she forgot it, or that it didn’t fit—but that somehow feels worse than just putting the stupid thing on, so she begrudgingly yanks it off the hanger and goes to the dealership’s bathroom to change.

The sharp fluorescent lights do nothing to lift her mood, and she scrunches her nose at her reflection. The dress itself isn’t bad, it’s just—not her.

She laughs aloud. None of this—robbing a bank, laundering money for a street criminal, sleeping with said criminal, assuming management over her husband’s car dealership—none of this is her, is it? She’s not so sure, anymore.

Be a boss bitch.

Beth sizes up her reflection in the mirror, the sleek dress with its sweetheart neckline.

Yeah. She can do that.

Beth almost doesn’t see him. She’s shoving her work clothes unceremoniously into her bag when movement flashes in her periphery, and she yelps—

“So I guess y’all don’t do casual Fridays,” Rio says, a smile spreading wide across his face as he eyes the dress, her red pumps.

Beth blows out a shaky breath. “You scared the shit out of me. Don’t you ever, I don’t know, use a cell phone?”

“Nah, I’m old-fashioned.” He’s sitting at her desk, a smirk still playing at his lips, and Beth is torn between wanting to slap him or do something else to wipe that expression off his face.

“What do you want?” she says. “We’re closing soon, which for most people would mean come back tomorrow—”

Rio quirks an eyebrow. “I’m not most people.”

“Look,” Beth snaps, “as much fun as your drive-by visits are, I don’t have time for this tonight.”

“What, you got a hot date, or somethin’?”

Beth scoffs. “Maybe I do, yeah.”

Rio just looks at her for a second, his eyes hazy even in the glow of early-evening light filtering in through her office windows. Beth doesn’t like the way it’s stirring something up in her gut, warm and slow like sun-warmed honey.

“What,” she sighs, “do you want?”

Rio shifts in his chair, legs spreading slightly. “Just wanted to see how my business is doin’.”

“Excuse me, your business?”

“Sixty-percent, yeah? Last time I checked, that’s more than half. Which means it’s more mine than yours, sweetheart.”

Anger sparks in her chest, hot and fast. Her cheeks are warm with it. “Get out,” she demands. “Now.”

Rio leans forward. “You gonna make me?”

She’s not sure how it happened, but she’s standing almost directly in front of him. From this angle, she can see the shadow that the collar of his shirt casts across his throat.

From this angle, he has to look up at her.

“You don’t scare me,” she says, her voice a low scrape of sound.

He wants to touch her—she can feel the want radiating off him, can see the lines of his tendons as he clenches his fingers against his knees. But he doesn’t move. When it comes to—this, whatever the hell it is, he’s always let her take the lead.

She should leave, now. She should—

She can’t explain what makes her reach out, what makes her brush the tips of her fingers against his arm. His skin is smoother than she expects, the muscles of his forearm taut beneath her hand.

“Right,” he says, voice hoarse. His eyes are fixed on her. “Right, ‘cause you’re the boss, now.”

And then he’s got a hand on her, his palm curved around the meat of her thigh. His fingers skate upwards, teasing around the dress’s hem. Beth feels each point of contact like a laser, every one of her nerve endings attuned to where he’s touching her.

“Annie and Ruby are waiting for me,” she breathes.

Rio’s eyes are wildfire. “So let ‘em wait.” 

His hand skims higher, and Beth spasms when the pad of his thumb slips beneath her panties. He huffs a laugh, looking so goddamn pleased with himself. “You like that, ma?”

Beth narrows her eyes, but it’s useless—her legs are quivering beneath his hands, and she knows he can feel it. “You are such an asshole,” she hisses. 

“ ‘S one school of thought,” he murmurs, the words slow and husky. His eyes don’t leave her face as his fingers graze her inner thigh, and her breath catches in her throat. She still hasn’t closed up shop, and yeah, it’s the end of the day, but someone could still walk in, someone could see—

It’s dangerous, what she’s doing. It’s bad. 

Pleasure sparks between her legs, and Beth has to resist the urge to clamp her thighs together. Her nails dig into his arm, and something bright flashes behind his eyes, something predatory. He’s looking at her like he wants to open her up, see what comes spilling out. See exactly what she’s made of.

You’re the boss, now. 

She draws herself up slightly, chin jutting out. “You gonna take all day down there?” she says, proud that her voice stays steady. “Like I said, I have somewhere to be.” 

Rio makes a noise in his throat, rumbling low like thunder, and she knows she has him. Satisfaction unfurls in her chest—and then he’s sliding a finger into her, and all coherent thought is driven from her head, lost to the rush of her pulse in her ears, the delicious stretch as he eases his way in.

It’s muscle memory that has her grasping at his shoulder, her pelvis canting into his palm to chase the friction. Rio pushes deeper, and she has to bite her lip to keep quiet. She slants her neck up toward the ceiling, her eyes shuttering.

“Like it when you boss me around,” he’s saying, dragging his finger out before pumping into her again. Beth can’t help it this time—she shudders, a soft whimper breaking past her lips. Slowly, Rio slips his finger out again, teasing lazy circles around her entrance. Beth’s hand jumps to his wrist, tugging emphatically. “Yeah,” Rio laughs, “yeah, just like that.”

“Didn’t—tell you to stop,” Beth gasps.

“Loud ‘n clear, darlin’,” Rio says, adding another finger as he plunges between the slick of her folds. Beth’s nails bite the skin on the underside of his wrist, and her stomach squirms pleasantly at his sharp intake of breath. She would die before admitting it, but the way he makes her feel, strong as steel, the exact fucking opposite of the good little porcelain doll she’s been her entire life—it’s intoxicating. She wants to drown in it, in him.

Rio crooks his fingers, hitting an angle that makes her writhe. His thumb knuckles softly against her clit, and Beth can feel the tension coiling in her belly already, everything shrinking at the edges. His breath is coming faster now, jagged like the edge of a knife, and she could come just like this, but it’s not enough. Her entire body draws taut like a bowstring at the memory of his cock inside of her, filling her up—

Beth rocks forward, rucking her dress up around her thighs as she brackets her knees around him. He tilts his pelvis to meet her, pulling his fingers out, and the sound of protest she starts to make sticks in her throat as the movement grinds her against the hard ridge of his erection. Her blood sings, hazy-hot desire jolting up the column of her spine.

Beth’s hand darts to his pants, grasping at the zipper. Rio laughs softly, both palms sliding around her ass. “I know you’re in a hurry, but damn, baby.” He squeezes, the pads of his fingers kneading into her. “I ain’t a piece of meat.”

“Shut up,” she grits between her teeth.

Rio tsks, head tilting to one side. “Manners, Elizabeth.” His hands splay, fingers caging her hips. His face is inches from hers, so close that she sees the spaces between his lashes, feels his breath when he exhales. He dips his head, mouth ghosting her clavicle. “What would those PTA bitches say,” he murmurs, each word like a brand against her skin. “Huh? You think you’re just like ‘em, but here you are, down in the shit. Rollin’ around in it.” His lips drift higher, to the hollow of her throat. “Think you’re so much better than ‘em, than me. But you ain’t.”

Anger and arousal flush through her in equal parts. He’s always known how to say to rile her up, burrow under her skin like a splinter. She can’t dislodge him, no matter how hard she tries. And the thing is, he’s not wrong. Down in the muck and the shadows, she knows who she is.

He’s shining a light on all her dirty laundry, but Beth isn’t here for that. She doesn’t owe him anything, much less the truth.

So she does the only thing that will shut him up—hooks a hand under his chin, and brings her mouth crashing down to his.

It’s not soft, and she doesn’t want it to be. They trade kisses like punches—she bites his lower lip, and in retaliation his tongue thrusts into her mouth. Her hands are everywhere; sliding around the nape of his neck, curved like claws at his jawline, pressed to his jugular. One of Rio’s hands skates up her sternum, yanking her dress and bra aside so he can tweak a nipple between his fingers. The other hand fumbles with his pants, shucking them down his thighs.

She feels when his cock springs free. He jerks his hips, and Beth gasps as the tip rubs against her cunt.

Rio snags her lower lip between his teeth, biting just hard enough to sting. “You want it?” he rasps, tongue darting out to wet his lips. He brushes her entrance again, but he pulls away slightly as she cants toward him. He’s playing with her, making her work for what she wants. Making her beg. It’s what he’s always done—why should this be any different?

Fuck that. She’s gonna take what she wants.

Beth pulls at her panties so hard she hears the fabric tear. It was a nice pair, expensive, but in this moment she couldn’t give less of a fuck. She pushes against him, swirling around the head of his cock, and she feels a pinch of triumph when he hisses through his teeth.

“You want bossy?” she says, and she almost doesn’t recognize her own voice. “Fuck me. Now.”

She locks eyes with him as he pushes inside, so she sees the moment he breaks. His jaw goes slack, his lower lip plush and jutting out in a way that’s so him, so familiar it makes her chest ache.

She’s dipping into her feelings, too close for comfort. Beth shifts her weight, pushing herself up on her knees before sinking down onto him again, and the pressure in her chest evaporates. He feels so goddamn good, stretching her out the way she remembers. Filling her up, no room for anything else.

Rio thrusts into her, sheathing his cock to the hilt, and the guttural cry that rips from her throat is entirely involuntary. She bears down on him, grinding her hips in a frenetic circle, and then he’s pumping into her harder, fucking her in earnest. The wet slap of skin on skin fills her office, punctuated by the lewd noises each of them is making.

“That’s it, ma, that’s—fuck—” Rio groans. He’s grabbing her waist so hard she’s sure she’ll have bruises tomorrow, but she doesn’t care. All she cares about is chasing the warmth that’s building in the pit of her stomach.

Beth braces her arms on his shoulders and surges up on her knees. His cock slams up into her, right against her clit, and she’s so fucking close, she can almost taste it on her tongue. He rams into her, again and again, and his thumb slips between them, circling just the right spot—

Her orgasm hits like lightning, blinding heat and static. She throws her head back in a wordless cry as all the air swoops from her lungs. She can’t breathe. She can’t—anything. She can’t remember the last time she came this hard.

(Yes, she can. It was in that fucking bathroom, his breath hot on her neck and his name stuck on her tongue).

Rio is still hard, still pumping into her, his arms solid like a wall around her. He’s the only thing holding her up. She’s still coming down, but already she can feel the embers stirring again, stoked by his nails digging half-moons into her torso, his cock inside her.

Will she ever have her fill of him?

“Desk,” she pants, jutting her chin.

His hips stutter, and his brow creases with confusion for a nanosecond before he gets it. In one swift motion, he hooks her legs around him and pivots them so that she’s on her back on the desk. Beth can vaguely feel something digging into her lumbar—a pen, maybe—but she’s too boneless to care.

Rio props himself on his forearms, framing her face. His pupils are blown wide like dinner plates, his chest heaving with how hard he’s breathing. “You cheated, mama,” he pants, fucking into her so hard that something goes crashing from her desk to the floor. “Didn’t—wait for me.”

“C’mon, then,” she breathes, digging the heels of her pumps into his back to urge him on. His eyes flash, and he ruts into her once, twice—

He spills into her with a choked-off grunt, his entire lean frame quivering.

For several moments, the only sound is the two of them breathing. The sun has dipped low in the sky outside, casting long shadows across his face. It makes him look like one of those abstract paintings, something that’s not quite real.

Beth knows what’s real. She suspects that he does, too.

But none of that matters. This will play out the same way it always does—the dust will settle, and they’ll both go back to pretending. Beth thinks they could fill up an ocean with all of the things they aren’t saying to each other.

She could do it. She could break the dam, open her mouth and ask the words that are a thorn inside her, the words she buries deep so he can’t use them against her.

What is this? What are we? Do you feel the same way I do?

What now, her heartbeat says, pounding a cadence against her ribs. What now what now what now—

Rio rolls off her, tucking himself back into his pants. She feels the loss of physical contact like a sucker punch, and it takes every ounce of restraint she has not to reach for him. For a moment, she just lies there, eyes to the ceiling as she wills her jackhammer pulse to settle.

When she pushes herself up from the desk, he’s already halfway to the door. “You got a good gig goin’ here,” he says jerking his head at the sales floor, but his double meaning is transparent as glass. You got a good thing goin’ with me. His eyes dart to hers. “Try not to screw it up, yeah?”

“Speak for yourself,” Beth snarls, and she’s all iron again, tucking away everything soft and vulnerable. 

His lips twitch. “You should wear red more,” he says, deliberately looking her up and down. Even from this distance, his gaze sears against her skin. “It suits you.”

Then he’s gone.

[dellebecque]

Prompt #5: Locked Away

@sea-wolf-coast-to-coast​

Who: WoL!Aden and Fray When: On the long boat ride to Kugane How: M, huge TW for graphic violence and suicidal ideation.  I cannot stress this warning enough. What: The Vault is not merely a place in Ishgard, not any more.This other Vault is Fray's sacred duty to keep. Where: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20487653/chapters/48744020

When his spear shattered on the armor of a knight he reached out with his free hand and jabbed gauntleted fingers into a weak joint of plate, ripped the man’s gorget free and rammed the broken spearhaft into his throat. More came while the knight collapsed in a cacophony of hideously wet choking noises. Aden tore the fallen knight’s sword from his hands, nearly as tall as Aden himself, charging forward to meet them with a bestial growl.

He profaned a path in flesh through holy halls, heavy boots ringing on stone between singing swings of steel and dying cries. That cacophony made music , music the song within him surged to answer, the memory of another melody weaving throughout. Blood soaked in through the joints of his armor, mixed with sweat and soaked his skin. But it wasn’t enough. Even as a vicious strike caved in a knight’s armor into their flesh, down to bone , it wasn’t enough. But gods , that’d felt good , the resistance behind that strike in his arms, the burn in all his muscles from putting that much weight behind a weapon. A soft, lascivious sound interrupted that hungry growl, tongue darting out to lick the blood from his lips.

He reached the very height of the building but for her spires, fighting his way through the staging ground here, and the sword finally broke, blade shattering under the strain of nearly cleaving a priest in half. Aden reeled on the last knight and recognized him. Even weaponless he broke into a trot, grinning, tail lashing sinuously behind him. Oh, yes , to have a chance to kill him again --the Twelve were kind. Aden shifted his weight, redirected his momentum as as Zephirin, untransformed, charged to meet him and swung. He only got enough height to kick off the flat of the blade mid-swing, and on the way down rammed his armored elbow into Zephirin’s face. Bone crunched, rather specific bone, and with the knight reeling from the blow, bloodied, it was a simple matter to hook gauntleted fingers into his armor to pull him down to the right height, to strike with the heel of his palm and ram the bone home. The knight went limp in his hands, face barely recognizable.

Applause rang out, clear and slow, and the sound of heavy boots on stone in a familiar gait. Aden’s head shot up, eyes feverish and alert, ears canted towards the sound.

“Good job.” The voice sounded so like his own, and his gaze met mismatched eyes, one green, one amber. Aden growled , but the shade gave him a wicked little grin. It wore blackened drachenmail in the more modern style he’d eschewed as still too damn fiddly , but seeing it on the shade he realized it suited him. “I think that’s every priest in Ishgard. Every knight. Everyone who ever supported Thordan.”

The weight in his hands shifted, and Aden looked down to see he held not Zephirin by the leading edge of his pauldrons, but Edmont by his coat lapels, bloody and broken. He dropped the body with an alarmed sound, sharp in his throat, but the illusion remained. The body hit the stone and bounced with a crack of bone. “What the fuck ,” Aden breathed, unable to tear his eyes from the corpse.

“Well, even your allies and family were part of the system before you came here. They all supported it. Helped it run. Patriots, the lot of them.” At the bottom of the stairs his shade stopped, standing at parade rest. “We can’t kill everyone who contributed to his death without killing them, too. But you already know that, somewhere inside, or we wouldn’t be here.” His shade’s ears canted forward in a friendly way. “Feel better now?”

“Why the fuck are you here?” Aden growled, reaching down for Zephirin’s sword--he got Edmont’s cane instead, looked down and saw a little blood and tiny shards of bone spattered on the head of it. He dropped it, swallowing heavily, and looked back up at his shade.

“They’re right to compare you to a dragon, you know.” His shade began circling the staging area, arms still clasped behind his back. “In power you are unmatched . Beyond mortal ken. And with each passing day you grow, boundless . Perhaps one day that little trick you’ve learned will rival even the celestial brood,” he brought one arm forward, panning his outstretched hand across open air, “commanding the receptive hearts of even normal spoken in your own emulation of dragonsong. Oh, then how terrible your wrath. We shudder to consider it.” That hand returned to his back, and as he continued around Aden saw the priests and knights here had also been replaced--there lie Artoirel, Emmanellain, Honoroit, with wounds he remembered dealing. “Yes, you’re the veritable long-lost-son of Midgarsormr, but flesh and blood rather than scale and aether. Or is it Nidhogg ?”

“You’re different from last time,” Aden challenged, trying to claw his way back to control of the situation. If his shade meant to ignore him, he could play the same game, challenge it in the same way. His ears flicked.

“From last time , no.” The shade’s ears flicked, too, tail twitching in a familiar gesture of calculated interest. “From before , yes. When first we met, I was… incomplete. Fading. A memory burned into the soulstone. Fray, I think?” Mismatched eyes glanced down, remembering, and Aden almost felt himself making the same expression. “ Fray . We like that. It suits your battle-lust. So perhaps I’ll keep his name. Honor his memory.” The shade passed by Aymeric and Lucia, sprawled as if one had tried to shield the other, then Estinien, among a dozen other bodies he recognized. “But we’re not here to talk about me. We’re here for you .”

“If we’re here for me then fuck off .” A rumbling growl sounded under his voice, and his fingers ached for a weapon. “Unless you’re ready to go another round.”

Fray laughed, a dark, unamused sound. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? And after all, that’s why we’re here.” He returned to the base of the stairs and stopped, standing at parade rest once more and smirking at Aden. “You’ve already had your vengeance in the waking world, but it fixed nothing in your heart. Feels hollow , doesn’t it? You’re still cold and numb, and anger is better than the blackness waiting under that stone.” Aden snarled, starting forward, but Fray continued on. “You keep pushing yourself though your body is broken because you need the distraction. You can project your rage, your blame, onto whatever they’ve sicced you on this week. But none of it really satisfies . You know who you want it to be at the end of your spear.” Fray brought both hands forward and gestured for Aden to look down. He did, almost instinctively.

Aden’s heart stopped . Haurchefant lay before him, as he had in death--but the spear piercing him through was not Zephirin’s aetheric lance, but the spear of Light, glorious in both power and aspect. For a moment the bottom dropped out of-- everything , and Aden shook, a hairline fracture cracking across that cold stone where his heart should be. It’s not real , he told himself without conviction.

“We know who you really want to blame.”

It’s not real , he told himself, but it… may as well be. Haurchefant had died for him, but Aden could have done a hundred things to stop it, and he’d done nothing.

“We know you’re not just looking for someone to project onto.”

He’d done nothing . And suspected now as then that, perhaps, he couldn’t die. The blessing might not let him. Which meant Haurchefant had died for--

“We know you’re not just looking for a distraction.”

But it wasn’t just Haurchefant . Aden finally tore his gaze away, throat tightening. He knew now this wasn’t really the Vault, knew that he’d find those heavy stone doors behind Fray writ in his own hand with a couple dozen names he could no longer say aloud. Over the years he’d realized each and everyone one of them could have been saved, not a single one of them need be lost the way they had. The already chill air seemed to grow colder, tongues of frost licking across Aden’s armor and drawing fanciful patterns.

Still, he missed Haurchefant so fucking much . He missed having someone who could stand by his side in a fight, someone who knew him so well a glance or a gesture sufficed to communicate volumes of meaning. He missed having someone to go home to, someone who would soothe his hurts rather than merely see them healed. He missed having someone who saw him as a person rather than a hero. Someone he could be weak in front of without fear. Someone who would challenge his boundaries and draw him out of his shell. And-- gods , he was loathe to admit it, but he missed the intimacy , someone who would touch him without inflicting pain. But he couldn’t let anyone else close enough for any of that. He couldn’t live through the loss again.

Aden didn’t want to live through it the first time.

“Harken unto me, Aden Dellebecque, Weapon of Light .” His head snapped up, gazing on Fray who stood at parade rest again, a more perfect reflection of him with each passing moment. “We made a bargain. And I will keep it. Mark it well: you may keep those who love you distant, and not let them know that you feel for them in return. I will help you in this, and I will bear the burdens of your heart when they are too much, just as I bear the burdens of your body. But you must open these doors one day and face what lies beyond. And soon . The strain is… damaging us.”

“We both know what’ll happen if I do,” Aden whispered. “And everyone’s….”

“Counting on you,” Fray said. “I know.” He blinked slowly at Aden. “I know, heart of my heart. Even with me to bear the worst, it hurts more than any agony of the flesh. But one day you must. And perhaps by then….”

Aden shook his head. “It’s all I have left. I can’t forget him--any of them--enough to… face it safely .”

“Then you must find hands that can heal you of this wound.” Fray said darkly. “As I told you before. We have no other viable option. The coward’s way is unacceptable. Seeking death on your enemy’s blade is unacceptable.” Fray held out a hand, and a blade of ice formed in it, tall as he was. “Until then.” He walked back up to the doors, squaring himself before them, and planted the sword point down, both hands on the hilt like the statues that stood sentinel in Foundation.

Aden surfaced from restless darkness to find himself curled into a tight, aching ball on his hard, small bunk aboard the Misery , thin blanket wrapped tight around him and a book open on its face next to his head. He didn’t have it in him to cry, Fray saw to that--just felt numb and cold, and… tired . His ears strained for any sounds beyond the creak of the ship and the slosh of waves. Hearing nothing other than the normal working sounds of the crew, Aden started in on what breathing exercises he could manage without uncurling, and slowly drifted back to sleep.

Blessedly, his dreams were bloodless.

[fairyscribbles]

Home - Long Overdue. (YIXING, PT. 11) [Chronicles of the Wolf] *NC-17*

What do we have here...? Enjoy darlings! this story is set right after the events from the last Sehun chapter, so if you want to refresh your memory, read this!

Warning : smut

-

You held onto your mate tightly as he dashed up the stairs, panting and mouth occupied with pressing kisses against your neck. You felt your heart beat loudly against your chest when the door to your room was slammed shut and locked behind the two of you.

"Yi-..." you tried to say his name but he cut you off by kissing you deeply, groaning at the initial press of your lips against his.

"Shit, ___..." you heard his breathless sigh when Yixing rested his forehead against yours, sitting on the bed with you in his lap. His grip was still tight, as if he was afraid someone will come in and take you away.

You smiled, gently running your fingers over his cheekbones and jaw in a soothing manner.

"I thought I lost you..." his voice was rough, and he sighed again, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

"I thought...I thought that you..."

"But I'm not. I'm here..." You kissed him again gently. "I'm right here."

His arms tightened, as if to confirm your words. "My ___... My mate..."

You smiled, littering his face with kisses. "Yes..."

You couldn't stifle a gasp when Yixing's hand crept down and squeezed your ass almost possessively.

"My still unclaimed mate..." you heard him growl against your neck and your grip tightened on his shoulder when you felt him press you down against your hard arousal.

"Y-Yixing?"

"You're unmarked. And I never should've let you be for so long... Not when you so clearly belong to me."

His possessive grumbles were accompanied by openmouthed kisses all along your neck, his hands busy undressing you so his lips could reach more skin.

"Yixing..." you moaned. Your hands returned the favor, dragging under his sweater to force it off.

You were flipped over, being pushed into the mattress by your possessive mate, moaning when he pressed into you heavily. You welcomed the feeling, wrapping a leg around his waist and pulling him down for a passionate kiss.

"I'm going to claim you now, ___. Are you okay with that?"

You nodded, too breathless to confirm it with words as you whined when your hands hit the barrier of his shirt. You wanted to feel your mate's skin against yours.

"___," he growled, complying and ridding himself of the shirt. "I need you to open your eyes and tell me."

You opened them as he asked you to, looking up at him with wide eyes. Yixing's were blood red, his fangs slightly peeking from his lips, his expression a mixture of absolutely frightening and arousing.

"I...I want you, Yixing..." you murmured quietly, reaching out to grab a hold of his shoulders. Yixing hummed, letting himself press against you a bit more.

"And I want to be yours...and be marked by you..."

You traced the corner of his mouth as he growled low in the back of his throat.

"With these fangs..." You shuddered from the thought, but not entirely out of fear anymore. There was a thread of excitement. At the idea of being bitten and claimed. By Yixing.

His gaze was still boring into yours, seeking for any trace of hesitation. But you felt none...

And so Yixing kissed you, urgency evident in the way his lips moved against yours, the way he gripped your hips and guided them up against his hardened crotch to meet his short thrusts, stealing your breath away.

Unconsciously, you mewled his name out loud, your head falling back against the pillows as you looked up at your grinning mate.

"You need to be quiet, baobei..." his voice was husky, and the way he spoke in your mother tongue made you shiver.

"Or everyone will hear what I'm doing to you in here."

He leaned back down, kissing your neck, and you bit your lip to keep in another soft moan. "A-and that would be bad..."

But what he was doing felt so good, you couldn't quite make sense of why at the moment.

"The house is full of great ears, ___," he murmured. "And those noises are just for me..."

You writhed underneath him, pouting. "But it feels..." You mewled when the bulge in his pants made perfect contact with your center, driving your arousal even higher. "...good..."

Yixing chuckled against your skin, his hands sliding over your sides, the cool pads of his fingers making you shiver. "And we've barely started."

He kissed you again, tongue licking its way into your mouth and making you light-headed. You whimpered at his touch, your nails desperately digging into his skin and raking down his back, the growl he let out made you sure that you left some damage.

"Yixing..." you sighed his name as you felt him tug at your panties, pulling them down and flinging them somewhere across the room. Yixing's growl was appreciative.

"I love how you sound when you moan my name like that..." he muttered against your skin, relishing in the way your back bowed off the bed when his fingers pressed down on your clit.

You pressed your lips together, holding in the desperate moan as his fingers moved expertly to tease you - rubbing your clit in tiny, mind-numbing circles as you writhed against him.

"Yixing..." you repeated, to which he rumbled in approval.

"That's right, baobei..."

"Please..." you panted, gripping the sheets tightly in your hand- you were sure that you were going to rip the in a few moments.

"What is it, ___?" Yixing's voice wasn't even teasing, it was just his actions, the way his blunt teeth nibbled on the skin of your neck, how his fingers seemed to slip into you, making you gasp as his thumb still played with your clit.

"What do you want, my love?"

You moved against him, body desperate for the ache to ease. "Please..." you repeated, unsure what to ask him for.

"___..." he urged, his fingers continuing their sinful ministrations.

"More!" you told him breathlessly, unable to control the keening noise that escaped you.

Yixing groaned, two fingers pushing inside you for a maddening stretch. Your hands clamped on his shoulders, your legs falling open further, to take more.

You weren't able to keep the eye contact with the two ruby orbs staring at you with such passion, as your head fell back against the pillows and your hand clamped over your mouth to muffle a loud moan. You could hear Yixing snarl, the pace of his fingers quickening and when you thought it couldn't get better, your vision blacked out at the sudden sensation of the tip of Yixing's tongue pressing into your clit, making you scream.

"That's right, baobei..."

Your eyes rolled in the back of your head, and you almost sobbed at the pleasurable sensations that buzzed through your body. Through his tongue.

Good lord.

Yixing's hands landed hard on your hips, and you realized that it was because you were writhing everywhere, closer up to him, then away again. He held you in place, forcing you still as his tongue danced patterns over your clit. Driving you so high you could see lights dotting the back of your eyelids.

Y-Yixing..." you whimpered in an almost desperate manner, your hands being almost everywhere- gripping the sheets, sliding into Yixing's hair before pulling on your own in crazed pleasure.

"Are you coming, ___?" You mewled at the roughness of his voice, and you nodded, reaching out for him blindly.

"Yixing~..."

"I'm here, babe. Come, baby. Come for me."

You heard his words like a dull echo because your head was spinning from the sensation of your release, your muscles going weak and convulsing from the pleasure.

Yixing growled, his hands clamping right under your ass and bringing you closer to his mouth with noises that just drove you even further.

It took everything in you not to scream his name for the entire house to hear, but biting down on your hand helped you manage as Yixing helped you ride out your orgasm.

You slumped against his hold, boneless and panting hard, your vision a bit hazy when Yixing came up and kissed your lips softly, almost too soft for this heavy atmosphere, and you sighed against his mouth, your trembling hands reaching up for him.

"Yixing..." you murmured his name softly, to which he just hummed. That hum was turned into a snarl when your hips swirled up against his hard cock.

"More..."

He groaned your name, his lips dipping back down for a kiss much harder than before. You responded to his tongue, his hands as one grasped his cock and the other landed on your thigh to guide your leg around his hip.

"More..?"

You whined at the teasing brush of the tip of him against your clit, your hips canting up for friction. "Yes~"

Yixing didn't say anything at that, and you were about to open your eyes to look at him when you felt his tip slowly press into you, the stretch uncomfortable.

It has been so long...and only once before, and it showed on your body when you whimpered as Yixing progressed, your fingers burying in his arms, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes.

"___?"

You gritted your teeth. "I'm... I'm fine... Don't... stop..."

Yixing kissed your cheeks, then your mouth, his hands coming up to cup your face gently. "Baobei, look at me..."

His hips stilled, and your eyes flashed open. "Why... are you stopping..?"

Yixing was smiling gently, kissing away the clench in your jaw. "You are beautiful, tianshi..." he murmured, his fingers tracing your face. "I could not have been blessed with a better mate..."

You hummed, touching his mouth. Your brows pinched when you felt him push forward again. "Relax for me, beautiful..."

"Just like that..." he praised softly, humming when he felt you loosen around him a little bit. You moaned loudly at the sensation of Yixing pushing into you, inch by delicious inch and this time, Yixing didn't stop you. His hand slid up the back of your thigh, cupping your ass softly and tilting you just slightly for him to slip all the way in. Yixing groaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

"So perfect...you feel so perfect around me, baobei..."

You whimpered at even his slightest movements, fingers trying to draw him closer as his hips made to retreat.

"More..?" he murmured in question, and you couldn't have shaken your head faster.

"Yes..."

Yixing pulled back before giving a strong thrust forward, and he muffled your resulting moan with his mouth.

Yixing set up a strong and deep pace, filling you completely with each hard thrust. It made you see stars and your body convulsed involuntarily at his ministrations, back bowing off the bed and your legs locking around his waist tightly to keep him as close to you as humanly possible. Yixing growled in agreement, licking a stripe up your neck as his hands pinched at your nipples. You gasped at the sensation, the pleasure in the pit of your stomach increasing when you felt his hot breath hit the moist spot.

"Baobei..."

You moaned, and he raised his head for a brief moment to meet your eyes. Yours remained half-mast as he stared down at you with those burning red eyes. His fangs were out, protruding over his bottom lip threateningly. But all it did was make you shudder with desire.

"Mark you... I'm gonna..." His voice was raspy, his words broken.

You touched his cheek, gasping with the thrusts that didn't stop. "Yes, Yixing..." you sighed. "Mark me as yours..."

"Ma-ah!" You couldn't complete your sentence because the next thrust took you breath away and it made the pleasure in your abdomen spill over, bringing you to your climax. Yixing felt it, and his thrusts picked up and became harder, making you feel like you were about to explode until...

You were hurled into an abyss of pleasure. Your surroundings disappeared, nothing else no one else mattered but Yixing and the way he was drilling you like no tomorrow.

And then you felt his fangs sink into your neck.

You cried out loudly as the pleasure seemed to double, triple even. Your body arched high off the bed, vision going white as your breath left you.

When you came to again, it was to weak muscles, chest rising and falling with quick breaths against your mate.

Your mate.

Yixing's face was buried in your neck, his tongue leaving brief little numbing licks to the tingling spot where his mark was.

Your arms shuddered in protest when you raised them to wrap snugly around his neck. You mumbled lovingly, nonsensically, as you kissed his jaw.

Yixing chuckled above you breathlessly, but nevertheless he returned your actions, peppering small kisses across your jaw and neck. You breathed his name softly and he hummed in reply, making you giggle.

"I love you..." you muttered softly against his skin and Yixing smiled, rolling the two of you over and splaying you over his chest, holding you tightly.

"Not as much as I love you..."

You locked your legs around his hips, and he half-laughed, half-groaned.

"But I love you quite a bit... so it's hard to compete with."

You kissed his chest, and Yixing gave a raspy chuckle. There was a lull of silence, with Yixing running his fingers up and down your spine, then over the mark on your neck, making you shiver.

"Finally marked..." he growled.

You agreed with him with a small sigh, calmed by the soft beat of Yixing's heart and by the way he came down to kiss your head every now and then. Sweet exhaustion washed over you and when you felt your consciousness slip away, you couldn't help but to tighten your grip on him. Yixing returned your actions, his hands almost hoisting you up so you would be splayed over his chest.

"Sleep well, my mate..." you heard him mutter into your skin and you mewled in response, kissing his neck.

The horrible thing that happened before was completely erased by the most perfect moment in your life. And you were sure that instead of the dead witch you were going to dream of your mate, proudly showing off the mark to his pack.