#i snarl i grind my teeth a low growl comes out of my throat

[alissssssaka]

made these a while ago, enjoy :D

[heejake-hoon]

Enhypen hyung line when you ask them to spit in your mouth (mdni)

Heeseung: You're on your knees, Heeseung's cock heavy on your tongue as you look up at him through your lashes. He's got one hand fisted in your hair, the other braced against the wall as he fucks into your mouth shallowly, jaw clenched tight as he tries to savor the feeling of your warmness around him. Pulling off with a filthy pop, you nuzzle into his groin, mouthing at his balls before licking a stripe up the underside of his shaft. "Heeseung," you rasp, voice already wrecked. "Want you to spit in my mouth. please…" His hips jerk at your words, eyes shooting open, a low groan rumbling up from his chest. "fuckkk" Heeseung rasps, fingers tightening in your hair almost painfully. "You can't just say shit like that, jesus." But he's already hauling you up, gripping your jaw before forcing his mouth into yours. You whimper into it, clutching at his shoulders for balance as he licks into you possessively, tongue fucking deep and dirty. And then he's pulling back,letting you fall again on your knees before angling you how he wants , gathering saliva in his mouth before letting it drip past his lips and into yours. You chase it immediately, moaning at the depraved intimacy of it, swallowing it down greedily. Heeseung curses, his hand coming up to grip your throat, tilting your chin up so he can watch your mouth work. "So fucking filthy" he marvels, voice low. "So fucking filthy, Fuckk." He groans, taking in your flushed face as you lean on his hand. "Please, Heeseung," you whimper, nails biting into his shoulders. not sure yourself of what you are begging for. "More, want more" He snarls, walking you back towards the bed with intent. "Oh, sweetheart,I'll use you alright," Heeseung promises, already shoving at your clothes. "Gonna paint your tongue with my cum." he says as he shoves his fingers on your mouth, pressing them on your tongue as he watched you with hunger in his eyes.

Jay: "You want me to what?" Jay asks incredulously, sure he must have misheard you. There's no way you just asked him to- "Spit in my mouth," you repeat, chin tilted up defiantly even as a pretty blush stains your cheeks. "I want you to spit in my mouth while you fuck me, Jay." your eyes looking at him innocently as if you didn't ask him to do the filthiest thing in his life. He stares at you for a long moment, shock warring with arousal in his gaze. "Fuck, Y/N," Jay finally grits out, hands flexing at his sides like he's physically restraining himself from reaching for you as he studies you expression, hissing when he saw no hesitation in your eyes. "fuckk, baby. You really want me to do that?" In answer, you step into his space, nimble fingers working at the button of his jeans. "Yes baby, please" you whine, leaning up on your toes to ghost your lips over the shell of his ear. "I want you to own me, Jay. In every filthy, degrading way you can think of." Jay's control snaps like a rubber band. With a low growl, he fists a hand in your hair, yanking your head back and exposing the long line of your throat to his hungry gaze. His other hand palms roughly at your breast, tweaking your nipple through your blouse and making you gasp. "You want me to claim you, baby?" he asks, voice pitched low and dangerous, jaw clenched in a way that has heat pooling between your thighs. You nodded, arching into his touch wantonly. "Yes, Jay, please- want you so fucking bad-" He kisses you then, hard and deep and filthy, teeth catching on your bottom lip and tongue delving past the seam of your mouth demandingly. You clutch at him, moaning as he grinds his hardness against your core. Jay gentles the kiss gradually before pulling back, a string of saliva connecting your lips for a heated moment. Holding your gaze, he gathers the wetness in his mouth and leans in slowly, letting it drip past his lips and onto your waiting tongue. You shudder at the taboo thrill of it, swallowing his spit down eagerly before surging up to lick into his mouth, chasing the taste of him. Jay groans lowly, his dick twitching hard,hands already working at your clothes with clumsy fingers. "Fuck, the things you do to me," he rasps, walking you back towards the wall and pinning you there with the weight of his body.

Jake: "Y-you want me to spit… in your mouth?" Jake stammers, eyes wide with shock even as his throat bobs on a hard swallow. You nod shyly, looking up at him through your lashes as you palm him through his sweats, feeling the way his cock twitches at the suggestion. "I want all of you, Jakey," you murmur, leaning in to press a line of teasing kisses along his jaw. Jake groans, head tipping back as his hips jump into your touch. "Fuck, baby" he rasps, fingers tangling in your hair almost desperately. "You can't just- fuck. You're serious?" In answer, you tug down his waistband just far enough to free his aching erection, giving it a long, slow stroke from root to tip, making him throw his head back in ecstasy "Dead serious," you breathe, thumbing over the leaking slit and making his breath hitch. With that, you drop to your knees, gazing up at him with heavy-lidded eyes as you stick out your tongue invitingly. Jake swears colorfully, the hand in your hair tightening convulsively as he stares down at you in awe. "You're going to be the death of me," he mutters, his heart beating so fast at the sight of you this submissive and needy for him. He gathers saliva in his mouth,slowly, giving you time to change your mind, before he leans down and parts his lips, letting the wetness drip onto your waiting tongue. You moan at the first touch of it, the depraved intimacy sending heat pulsing between your thighs. You swallow his spit down eagerly, making him curse under his breath before taking his cock into your mouth, suckling at the tip as your hand works the base. "Oh god" Jake gasps, hips bucking forward involuntarily. "bab-by, you're so- ah-" You hum around him, taking him deeper and swirling your tongue along the underside of his shaft, his groans and whimpers only encouraging you to go harder. When you pull off, it's only to kitten lick at his slit before looking up at him with pleading eyes. "More," you rasp, nuzzling into his groin and nosing at his balls. "Jake, please- want more, use me like- like your own personal fucktoy-" He makes a strangled noise, torn between arousal and disbelief. But in the end, his desire wins out and Jake is hauling you up, spinning you around and bending you over the back of the couch. "You want me to use you, baby?" he asks lowly, yanking your shorts down and smacking your ass hard enough to leave a handprint. "Want me to fucking ruin this greedy little cunt?" "Yes," you moan wantonly, wiggling your hips in invitation. "Yes, Jakey, please- do whatever you want to me-" He curses again, lining himself up and sliding home in one long, hard thrust. You keen at the sudden fullness, walls clenching down around him greedily as he starts to move, setting a deep, rolling rhythm that has your toes curling. Leaning over you, Jake spits on his fingers before reaching around to rub tight circles over your clit, the filthy sound of it joining the obscene slap of skin on skin making you head spin"This what you wanted, right?" he pants, snapping his hips faster, harder. "Wanted me to fucking defile you like the dirty girl you are?" "Yes," you sob, pushing back to meet his thrusts as the pressure inside you builds to an impossible height. "Yes, Jake, more, fucking ruin me, I'm so close-" "Gonna come on my cock like a good little slut?" he demands raggedly, pinching your clit almost painfully, making you let a scream. Your release threatening to hit you like a truck. "Do it, Y/N. F-fucking soak me"

Sunghoon: "Spit… in your mouth?" Sunghoon repeats slowly, eyebrows raised as he stares at you, somehow not surprised from your command but still asking you nonetheless "You want me to- fuck, Y/N. That's…" "Filthy?" you finish for him, crawling into his lap and looping your arms around his neck. "Dirty? Degrading?" He swallows hard, hands coming up to grip your hips almost reflexively. "Well… yeah. All of the above." he nods to himself, watching as you lean in close, lips brushing the shell of his ear as you grind down pointedly against his growing hardness. "What if I want to be degraded?" you breathe, reveling in his sharp inhale. "What if I want you to fucking defile me, Hoonie? To use me, ruin me, claim every part of me in the dirtiest way possible?" you whisper, feeling him growing under you. Sunghoon groans lowly, fingers digging into your skin hard enough to bruise. "Fuck, Y/N," he grits out, hips rocking up to meet yours, his eyes are already blown black with lust. You smirk, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging just shy of painful, the way you know makes him crazy. "Show me," you challenge breathlessly. "Show me exactly what I'm asking for, Sunghoon. I want it. Want you, any way I can get you. Please…" He stares at you for a long, charged moment before his eyes goes dark and hungry in a way that has heat pulsing between your thighs. And then he's flipping you over, pinning you to the mattress with his hips as his mouth comes down on yours in a brutal kiss. Sunghoon licks into you filthily, fucking your mouth with his tongue in a hungry way, one of his hands coming to wrap around your throat before pulling back just far enough to gather saliva between his lips. You know what's coming but it still makes you jolt when he lets it drip past his teeth and onto your waiting tongue. The sheer dirtiness, has you arching up into him with a needy whine, already aching for more. Sunghoon chuckles darkly as you swallow his spit down eagerly, chasing the taste of him. "Fuck, look at you," he marvels lowly, fingers coming up to trace your slick, swollen mouth. "So desperate for it, aren't you baby?" he mocks "Love being used,huh? love letting me do filthy shit to this perfect body." his other hand squeezed one of your boobs tightly, as if to emphasis his words You gasp at the action as he leans down to bite at the hinge of your jaw, marking you. "Yes, Hoonie, want it- want you to fucking wreck me, shit-" He growls, a sound of pure animal hunger, and then he's yanking at your dress roughly, tearing the fabric in his haste to get you naked. "Gonna fucking ruin you," Sunghoon promises, his own shirt joining yours on the floor. "Gonna spit on this pussy before I eat it, suck my cum out of your dirty little cunt and feed it back to you-"

-

fuck is it just me or is it hot in here *fanning myself* Please leave some feedback *_*

[yameoto]

Haiii can you pls write a fic abt being rude to jordan all day which causes them to take their anger out on the reader at the end of the day and they’re just being really aggressive and manhandling?

FRUSTRATION. JORDAN LI.

✗ warnings ; dom!jordan, sub!reader, rough sex, dry humping, orgasm denial, brat taming. not proof read. wc ; 1.2k

THE last straw is the coffee. the fucking coffee.

the sick thing is that this time, you didn't even mean it. sure, your relationship was on pause. sure, you two had been exchanging barbed quips and jibes back and forth for the worse part of two weeks.

(there wasn't even a point to it, anymore—devolving into the most inane, stupid game of chicken; who can piss the other off more? but jordan is nothing but competitive — and you'd be damned if you let them show you up.)

but this time? you swore you were minding your business. like actual, cross your heart, hope to die—stick a cupcake in your eye. unfortunately for you, grade-school promises don't exactly stick up too well when you're standing in the middle of your dorm room doorframe; foaming, hot latte sopping into your favourite jacket. and bag. oops.

"are you fucking serious?" jordan's scowl is black, arms immediately flying out to shake their sleeves, to no avail. your mouth is already open — granted, not to apologise, but it doesn't matter much anyways when all of a sudden two hands are on your torso and you're being thrust onto a bed. you’re not exactly proud of the startled yelp that peels out of you, but fuck— jordan looks.. really fucking hot.

"you get off from pissing me off, or something?" jordan grunts, eyes flaring. there are the faintest hints of bags under their eyes, and a note of tension in their voice you've never heard before. you've clearly caught them at a bad time—even in the depths of this cold war between the two of you, they've never seemed this pissed — just.. mildly irritated.

"only sometimes." you snip back, instead, squirming as their hands dig into your shoulder. it's the wrong answer.

"no." jordan hisses, hand moving up to grip your jaw with a harsh squeeze. "no, no, no. none of that." they lean in, and abruptly you feel your heart jump to your throat; tensing at the indecipherable leer to their tone.

"here's what's gonna happen, baby," the endearment comes out a derisive snarl as their hand swallows your thigh, hiking your leg up and yanking you into a straddle over their leg.

"you're gonna hump my fucking thigh," jordan growls, edging in close, breath hot against your neck as if they're about to rip your throat out. "and you're gonna scream my name like a fucking banshee, got it?" they murmur, and you inhale, jaw slack at the sheer level of cruelty in their voice, and the unmistakable spike of heat that throbs your core.

unimpressed by your silence, jordan's hand constricts around the base of your neck, squeezing. "i said, got it?" they hiss, patience running thin, and you grunt—nails digging into your palms to restrain a wince, or god forbid—a whimper. "got it." you huff, annoyance forcing its way in your inflection as if you're not about to melt into a puddle all over their thigh. god, you've been waiting for this, waiting for this for so fucking long—a week without their touch has felt like a month without fucking water. not that you'd ever admit that, out loud.

a low, unreadable hum resounds from the back of jordan's throat. "well fucking hump, then, sweetheart." they say, voice low as their teeth nips against your skin. you take the hint—forgoing your pride and slowly beginning to grind against their leg, ache between your legs growing increasingly needy as you feed into its begging, pulsing throbs, little whines beginning to fall out of your mouth.

"i said fucking scream it," they hiss, lips latching onto your neck and sucking as your body begins to tremble, feeble whine releasing from your mouth, despite yourself. "i want everyone on the floor to know it's my fucking thigh you're rutting up against like a needy slut." they say, gaze hardening as you thrust yourself against them with a breathy moan, their tone alone making you course with need. "jordan—jordan, oh, fuck—" you gasp, hand fisting into the hem of their shirt.

"louder." jordan demands, a whisper. their fingers curl against your skin, hips bucking subtly at every mention of their name. you make a little noise of protest, but jordan's eyes flash— and you find yourself keening for their approval as you thrash in their lap, body trembling all over. "jordan—" you moan, back arching all while you grind urgently into their thigh, mind blanking. "jordan, jordan, jordan jordan—" the words spill in a shaky, hoarse slew of whines that fit perfectly around your lips, like their name was made for you. your body moves as mindless as your mouth, functioning only on one, single, primal, instinctual need.

jordan jordan jordan need need thigh fuck jordan fuck me fucking fuck me, already—

"i've felt like shit all week." jordan hisses, interrupting your highly intellectual thought process—though, they don't exactly look too cut up as you continue to hump their leg, eyes glassy and teary with want. you want more. you need more. you need them inside of you—"but you're gonna make it up to me, aren't you, doll?" jordan purrs, voice a rushed mumble as their hands dig into your waist. they forcibly jerk you forwards, wrenching your legs further apart so you're splayed across their groin instead of their thigh. this time, you can't help the audible whimper that leaves your throat. "then maybe i'll forgive you."

as if on cue, your pace speeds up with an excitable whine, burying your face under their chin. "please—more—" you force out, grasp on their hem tightening as you groan, loudly, hips bucking wildly against them. "need you— in me—" the words stumble out, shamelessly, barely comprehensible. jordan grins, and with dismay you realise they're shaking their head.

"oh, c'mon. you don't deserve it." they snort, and you whine at the sheer unjustness of it all. you were only mean for them for what? a week? a whole week of them not touching you, either—fuck, you need it—their fingers, their cock—anything to fill up the burning, pounding emptiness inside you, begging to be stuffed full. you open your mouth to protest, but jordan beats you to it. "you're gonna come on my fucking thigh, or you're not gonna come at all. okay, sweetheart?"

any potential complaints die in your throat, petering out to a dismal, shaky whine of defeat. you're still grinding furiously against them. frustrated grunts leave your lips as you squeeze your eyes shut, mattress quaking in time with your thrusts. you have no drive to win against them, anymore. all you wanna do is fucking come.

jordan's grip on you eases, bit by bit as you make a show of yourself — pants and whines spilling from you as you bury yourself deep into jordan's chest and just rut, like the useless thing you are. it's sad, it's needy, it's desperate; and the thing is you fucking can't— it's not enough. you need jordan. you need them.

the whimper that drifts from you even smaller than the ones before, and in an instant, your pants die— and you crumple into a breathless heap upon their chest. it still aches, dull throb between your legs left to pulse and groan out in need. you feel gross, and sticky, and sleepy. this is what you get, really, for thinking you could fuck around with jordan and get away with it.

"are you still mad at me?" you mumble into the crook of jordan's neck, fabric of their shirt still bunched up in your fists. "..jords..?" you mutter, and jordan smiles at the way your words slur, thighs still shaking, their pretty baby taught a lesson. "oh, doll." they grin, hand sliding along chest— your hipbone— the band of your underwear.

well. maybe there's still hope for you, yet.

[holylulusworld]

Passion by heat

Summary: The encounter with the shifter caused more than trouble.

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader

Warnings: language, a/b/o, heat, slick, sex toys, smut, doggy style, little manhandling, marking, mating, claiming

<< Love by heart

Silence is greeting Dean when he hammers against your door. He calls your name, waiting for an answer.

“Y/N! Sweetheart you didn’t leave your room for three days. I got food and water for you,” Dean sighs as you still don’t answer. “I know you are still mad at me, but please eat something.”

He presses his ear against your door, listening closely only to hear a tiny whimper escape your lips. You press your hand over your mouth, hoping Dean doesn’t realize what’s going on inside your room.

“Y/N,” his voice sounds a little deeper and rougher now. “Open the door or I’ll take it down! I’m not joking. You will get out of the room and have some food.”

“I can’t—” you bite your hand, hoping to keep the noises wanting to escape your throat inside. “Go away.”

“No can-do sweetheart,” Dean mutters under his breath. He’s already picking your lock, ignoring that you try to keep him out of your room. “I’m going to check on you now. I hope you are dressed—”

His jaw drops and he growls low in his throat watching you frantically run your vibrator up and down your folds. “GET OUT!” Your snarl at Dean.

“Oh-fuck me,” his eyes drop to your soaked cunt when you shove the toy inside. “Don’t do this to me, sweetheart. I can’t…shit…” A throaty purr leaves his lips. He slams the door shut with his boot; eyes glued to your exposed sex. “What happened?”

He sniffs in all directions, almost creaming his pants as your overwhelming scent hits him. “I-I’m in heat. You need to go.” You growl now. “You smell too good, Dean. I’m going to…”

“You are going to what?” He tugs at his suddenly too-tight pants. “Shit…what are you going to do?”

“Let you fuck me if you don’t go now,” you throw the toy at Dean. He easily catches the toy. Dean holds it in front of his face to sniff at it. “Dean…don’t do this…”

“I can’t,” he pants heavily. “Fuck.” Your eyes widen when Dean darts his tongue out to lick your juices off the toy. “Shit…” He drops the toy to the ground and stalks toward the bed.

“Dean…”

“No,” he snarls when you try to close your eyes. “Keep them open. I want to see your pretty cunt.”

Dean dips his knee into the mattress and slowly crawls toward you. He pushes his face between your legs to nuzzle your cunt. “Dean, what are you doing? W-e can’t d-o this…” You fist his hair to press his face into your sex. “Dean…”

“Let me just,” he curses loudly when you start grinding against his face. “You’re naughty.” Dean grips your thighs to keep you from moving. “We have all the time later.” He looks up at you from between your legs. “Now you need a knot. You’re already on the edge and your body feels hot.”

“You’re making me hot,” you grasp for his shirt and use all your strength to drag him on top of your body. “So hot…alpha. You need to take care of the problem you caused.”

“Sweetheart, I’m on it.” He captures your lips in a soft kiss. His alpha is ready to mate and breed but Dean tries to hold his instinct back. “How come you’re in heat?”

“The shifter and you…and…” you fist his shirt. “He wanted to mate me, and my omega wants you to mate her.”

He growls against your lips. “You make it hard for me to hold back. If you don’t stop me, you end up filled with my knot.”

You whimper at his promise. Dean paws at your body, holding you down by your arms to look you deep in the eyes. “Do it. Give me your knot.”

He releases a shuddery breath.

You hold your breath, waiting for his reaction. “Sweetheart,” he growls and manhandles you onto your belly. “You’re going to be mine. This,” he slaps his hand between your legs to toy with your clit, “will be mine.”

Dean nips at your neck, teeth grazing your mating gland. “Do it.”

He chuckles at your eagerness. You grind against his fingers, soaking his digits with your slick. “You’re so needy,” he removes his hand, making you whine at the loss. “I’m going to always have you full of cock.”

You feel him shift behind you. He unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants to free his aching cock. “K-not,” you growl low in your throat. Slick runs down your thighs, and you drool scenting the alpha you always wanted. “Now.”

“I wanted to go easy on you because of all the things happening but now-“ Dean pounces on you, he wiggles his hips and pushes his cock between your pussy lips. “I’ll fuck you into the mattress. You will feel your alpha in your bones.”

You make an odd noise, and then you gush all over his cock. “Oh—god.”

“Did you just cum untouched?” He growls and ruts against you. “Fucking perfect.” Dean angles his hips to push the tip in. The alpha mounts you from behind and fills you with one hard thrust. “I’ll make you cum so many times you’ll pass out on me.”

You bite the pillow when his thick length splits you open. “Dean…” You purr. “More. Give me more.”

“I’m on it, sweetheart,” he starts moving his hips. “You’ll cum again and again tonight. I won’t let up until you give me at least two orgasms.”

He pants in your neck, cursing your name while praising your cunt. Dean can’t believe he denied himself the pleasure of fucking you.

"Now that you took all of me, I’m going to make you moan my name,”  Dean slowly slides back out of your slicked cunt. He groans feeling your warmth welcoming him when he pushes back in.

He pants heavily and tries to hold back as best as he can but the needy moans and the way your cunt grips his cock let him lose all control.

Dean starts to piston his dick in and out of you, whispering filthy words with every deep thrust. Your walls tighten around him, grip him even tighter the moment he moans your name. “DEAN…alpha!”

 His teeth sink into your neck, sending sparks of pleasure and pain through your whole being. You cum all over him, his name on your lips. “Sweetheart,” he whispers in your ear. “I’m gonna knot you now.” Dean licks over the wound he left. “Now…baby…omega…”

“No scratching the wound,” Dean tuts. “It needs to heal first.” He presses a soft kiss to the now bandaged mark he left. “Let our bond do this. It will help you heal faster.”

“We mated,” you sniffle and hide your face in Dean’s chest. “Dean, what did we do? Sex is one thing, but you claimed me!”

“I claimed my omega. There is nothing wrong with claiming your mate,” he kisses your temple. “The only problem is…”

You look at Dean with teary eyes. “What is the problem?”

“We need to decide who tells Sammy we are mated and that he’ll need noise-reducing headphones from now on.”

You chuckle. That’s just Dean. “You. Because you picked my lock.”

“I’ll do it again.” He grins darkly. “Over and over again…”

Tags in reblog.

[lovlidollie]

ik you're in a kenji zone but I still can't get over Feyd soooooooooo

Feyd always expects you to come and paint him before he goes to arena. What would he do if you forgot to show up to paint him one day?

savage

pairing ; feyd x gn!reader

wc ; 1.2k

cw ; slightly gore-y description at the end

rating ; general audiences, perhaps slightly suggestive at the end ?

author’s note ; oh no don’t you worry !! feyd is still on my mind 24/7 :3 him and kenji are both my husbands ehehe also wtf this is such a good prompt i love the way your mind thinks ! i don’t particularly think this is very good but i hope you like it anyway 😞 not proof read ^^

feyd is uncharacteristically loud. usually he’s quiet, like a viper, sneaking up on you when you least expect it. he’s calculating and cold, likes to observe before making an important decision. before his fights he’s more often than not calm and collected (well as much as he can be anyway). he’s confident, he knows he’s going to win so what’s the point in worrying? this time however, he’s murderous. he’s yelling and breaking things. he’s barking orders at the maids, veins on his neck protruding dangerously. feyd’s eyes are narrowed in contempt, mere slits as they flit about the room almost in panic. he isn’t able to stay still, can’t look at the same place for more than a second.

the battle’s already been postponed by fifteen minutes and while the general public is too scared to push him, his uncle is not. it wouldn’t be long before the baron is floating down into the staging area, hissing orders and forcing him to get on with the show.

his heavy leather boots stomp against the ground, and he grunts. he’s given you the absolute honour of painting him before his fight and you simply decide to not show up? are you not aware of the hundreds that would die to be in your place? did you not know about the dozens he had to feed his harpies in order to keep them appeased?

“where is she.” feyd growls, low and furious. not a question, more so a threat. the maids tremble in a corner, trying not to look at him or at the three bloody bodies piled on the ground. they’d pushed him too far, tried to paint him when he’s made it clear that only you have his permission to do so. his blades were through their hearts before they even noticed what they did wrong.

like a petulant child throwing a tantrum, he doesn’t just walk into arena. no, the pre-battle painting is tradition. it’s important. and you not being here to do it for him is disrespectful. feyd is seething, teeth grinding together so hard it makes the maids flinch. the sparring knife he has in his hand cracks as the wood splinters. he grunts and throws it against the wall, shards of metal and hard wood ricocheting.

where. the fuck. were you. you never not showed up. feyd’s made sure of it, cleared out your schedule and ensured that you’d have the best guards on the harkonnen battalion to escort you. you always came.

the cries and screams of “feyd-rautha!” get louder and he feels his head pound. a headache begins to build at the base of his neck as the his adoring fans stomp harder. an animalistic noise is ripped from his throat and his eyes shutter close, neck rolling in an attempt to calm down. oh he was going to kill you. he was going to rip you apart. he was going to ruin you. he was going to-

the doors to the chamber fly open and there you are. there you fucking are. panting and struggling to catch your breath, your wide eyes zero in on him and you gulp, forcing stuffy air into your lungs. the hair on your arms stand up with static when you see the ferocious expression plastered on feyd’s face.

“i-” you try open your mouth to explain your absence but you can’t speak. he’s enraged, anger pulsing through his blood. feyd’s mouth presses into a tight line and he snarls at you. his teeth are blackened and he looks like a monster.

“quiet.” it’s harsh and a jarring difference from how he normally speaks to you. the room seems to buzz in silence. you shrink back. you have a reason for being late, you really do!

feyd stalks backwards, never taking his eyes off you and snatches the small carafe of thick, viscous liquid from a table. his gaze trails your figure slowly, checking you inconspicuously for injuries, trying to figure out what the fuck took you so long. he strides towards you and you fight the urge to spring back and runaway. you didn’t like him when he was like this. he was scary and vicious, a savage beast.

he glares at you as he thrusts the carafe into your chest, a silent order. you’re smart and say nothing, shaky fingers reaching out and taking it. feyd’s chest ripples when he turns around. he can’t look at you right now, doesn’t think he can stomach it before he’s roughing you up. you see the way his biceps flex with barely restrained rage.

you work quickly, already deeply aware of how far the fight’s been delayed. it isn’t your best. the lines are messy and crooked, splatters spread over the expanse of his wide back because of your trembling. he’s silent the whole time, taking in great heaving breaths. adrenaline is running through him, he’s itching for a fight. needs to feel blood against his skin and the roar of applause in his ears.

when you’re finished with his back you move in front of him. you’re shorter, barely reaching his shoulders. feyd grunts and you sense him roll his eyes. you work faster, dragging inky oil over his obliques and down his nipples. you barely restrain a shiver.

the second you mutter a soft “done,” and your fingers leave his chest, feyd rips himself away from you, shaking his head. he feels his heartbeat thundering and it’s making him restless. you think he’s a lot like a cornered animal right now.

he dresses quickly, throwing his armour on haphazardly. his chest plate is crooked but you don’t have the courage to say something. feyd marches down to the entrance to the arena, not even sparing you a second glance. he doesn’t bother with his dual blades. he’s after gore tonight, blood and guts and agony. you’re shaking, tears welling up in your eyes as you think of what he’ll do to you.

you sniffle just as he pauses at the door. a low, demeaning laugh leaves his lips, guttural and raspy. you shrink into yourself, feeling humiliated.

“chambers.” he mutters after silence takes over. the implications are clear. you are to meet in his chambers the second the fight is over, when no one else will be around to hear what he does to you. you start growing anxious, sweat beading on your forehead.

feyd doesn’t wait for a response before he’s walking through the doors, cheers overpoweringly loud. you don’t make your way to the stands, too afraid of what you’ll see.

(the fight is one of feyd’s longest. instead of playing around with them for a bit and then killing them almost instantaneously, he lets one of his opponents scamper to the edges of the arena while he deals with the other. feyd prances around him, like a leopard, toying with his prey. when he pounces, it’s with his mouth, teeth tearing into his carotid and ripping it out. he’s fuelled by pure anger and adrenaline, nails clawing at his rivals’ chest and face. feyd turns the first body into a mutilated, bloody mess, so destroyed that he’s barely recognisable. he makes the other opponent watch before stalking after him and doing the same. when he finally, after hours of battle, shows up at his chambers, he’s covered in blood and intestines. and there you are. pretty, innocent you, perched in his bed for him. oh, you were in for it.)

[random-thot-generator]

Better Not to Know

KYLE GAZ GARRICK x FEM READER

-

Summary: A chance encounter with a handsome stranger in a night club leaves you longing for more.

Warnings/Tags: Explicit language, explicit sexual content, unprotected P in V - fr tho wrap it up ya filthy animals, random hook-up sex, breeding kink?- hmm... yeah, fem breeding kink, a moody touch of angst, some pining, my usual brand of smut, only half-assed proofread- embrace the imperfections, no use of Y/N

(Notes: Just another smut purge with pretty boy Gaz, along with some angst added in for @tiredmetalenthusiast . I didn't forget, I just get easily distracted. Hope you like!)

banners & dividers by: @saradika-graphics

-

Chaotic, strobing lights and throbbing, hypnotic bass. Dim shadows writhing en masse on the dance floor, a dense forest of waving arms and swaying bodies. There is heat and sweat and sex layered thick in the oppressive air with just a hint of danger to heighten alcohol-dulled senses.

The danger you're seeking lurks at a corner cocktail table on the outskirts of the dance floor. He's somehow managed to sprawl with natural grace over the unwieldy, tall chair, lounging like a king on a throne. One heel is hooked on a rung, the other resting on the floor, his body one long, continuous masculine line that pulls the eye up to a face that's both wicked and angelic. His smile is pure sin, his dark eyes appreciative and knowing.

Oh, yes...

This is what you came here for tonight. To hell with the drinks and dancing and your girls' night out. This is what you really need. This man, this demigod currently eye-fucking you from across the room. A coy smile curls your painted lips as the two of you lock eyes.

Ten minutes later, you're pressed up against the graffitied partition of a bathroom stall, legs wrapped around his surging hips, whimpering as he snaps and grinds them with brutal precision. Your fingers glide over dark skin sheened with sweat, hungry mouth seeking the hot cavern of his as he spears you to the wall with a particularly hard thrust. The rhythmic clink of his belt catches your ear, a lewd accompaniment to your gasping breaths and the constant slap-slap of flesh on flesh. It debaucherous and filthy and you can't get enough.

He stares into your eyes when he tells you to touch yourself, pinning you with a smoldering look that has your cunt clenching in response. Nostrils flare and teeth grit, his strokes growing sharper, deeper, more unhinged with each passing second. He's fucking you with feral abandon, a wild light flashing in his eyes as he nears his release. He's growling, gnashing his teeth, mouth hovering at your neck as he fights the primal urge to bite, to mark, to claim.

"This is mine. My pussy," he snarls at your ear, and holy fuck! That possessive, dark tone in his voice sends your mind reeling, turning you into a desperate, needy, grasping thing. Speaking coherently at this point is out of the question, but you nod your confirmation with dazed enthusiasm. Hell yes, this is his pussy. He can claim it and any bloody thing else he wants, just so long as he doesn't stop fucking you.

"Come for me," he demands in a low, guttural voice, and you do. God help you, you do, like a bitch coming to heel. "Fuck, that's it, pet. Just like that. Bloody fuck—"

The rest of his words catch in his throat, and with one last violent thrust he stills, his entire body tensing, muscles trembling with the strain as his fingers clamp onto your ass and drive you down onto his cock, holding you in place as he empties himself inside you. His cock pulses hard enough to make you moan at the feel of it, your eyes rolling back in your head. You know it's bad form to not use a condom, dead stupid of you both, to be honest, yet you can't deny the truth.

You wanted him this way, raw and real and messy. It's insane, pure unadulterated nonsense, but you relish the feel of his cum inside you. You'll regret this decision come morning when you're slinking into the chemist's shop for a Plan B pill before popping into the clinic to get tested. Right now, though, it's all you can do not to purr in decadent satisfaction.

His kisses are errant, artless things landing haphazardly across your collarbone, your earlobe, your cheek. His lips then cover yours, his tongue unfurling in your mouth to slide over yours in a sensual, intimate coupling, and something inside you blooms warm then spreads out to all your extremities. His nose bumps yours in the sweetest way, and you're enamored with him, just like that.

The bathroom door opens, noise flooding into the quiet space between you. Two drunk girls dawdle at the sink, comparing notes on the blokes they've chatted up, deciding which ones they'll be taking home later. His brown eyes sparkle with barely contained mirth, lips quivering as he holds in his laughter. He's so bloody beautiful. You drop your head to his shoulder, unable to look at him any longer without saying something stupid like, "Come home with me."

You bite your tongue and wait.

The sink runs, the hand dryer blasts, and then the two birds are walking out, leaving the lingering scent of cheap body spray and pink hand soap in the close, heated air. The tap drips, his belt buckle jingles, and the spell is broken. He sighs, placing a chaste peck on your lips, his hands giving your hips a gentle squeeze.

Time's up.

Legs sliding down his muscled flanks, you lock your shaking knees to support you, inner thighs quivering. His cum is a tangible reminder of his claim on your body, as much as the smell of his cologne and sweat on your skin, as much as that poignant, sharp ache in your battered cervix. He fucked you hard and he fucked you well and he made certain that you'd remember him for days to come. What more could you ask of a man like him?

"Ya alright, pet?" he murmurs, his voice so deep and smooth and warm that it raises the fine hairs all over your body. The man is sex personified, a carnal feast that's left you sated but still craving more. You've never been with anyone like him, and it scares you a bit, the effect that he has on you. You were right about him; he's dangerous.

You hum in the affirmative and smile, suddenly feeling shy and awkward. You lower your lashes to hide your confusion, too flustered to speak. You can only imagine what sort of goofy, cock-dumb expression you're wearing. His sigh of satisfaction gusts over your face, the backs of his long fingers brushing over your cheekbone. "So lovely," he mutters, like an inner thought spoken aloud.

Silly cow that you are, his words make your heart flutter.

"I'm fine. More than fine," you finally answer.

You chance a glimpse up into deep brown eyes with striations of amber and copper that catch the dim light. Your gaze drinks him in, flickering over his long, curling lashes and wing-like raven brows. You're melting at the sight of the most sensuous mouth you've ever seen on a man, not to mention a smile so brilliant, it turns you inside out and dumps your heart on the floor. It's only the scar beneath his left eye that detracts from his ethereal, masculine beauty, that proves that he is, in fact, a mere mortal.

"Perfection," you whisper, skimming your thumb over the scar. Your meaning goes for both the man and the sex, but he can take it however he likes.

He fumbles at the latch and opens the stall door, keeping a hand at your lower back as you toddle out on coltish legs. You drift to the mirror to see what the damage is, oddly proud about the mess he's made of you. You swipe the mascara from beneath your eyes and dab away the smear of lipstick at the corner of your mouth. Your hair's a bit of a tangle, but who's going to notice or care at this late stage of the evening?

A tremulous smile appears on your face when he steps in behind you, large hands curling 'round your hips as he presses his full length against your back. His warmth seeps through the thin material of your dress, his mouth hot and wet as it skates up the column of your throat. "You were bloody amazing, love," he breathes at your ear, chuckling, pleased, when you shiver. He gives your bum a light smack that turns into a protracted, possessive squeeze. "Love your arse," he mumbles to himself, then gives his head a shake, stepping away. "I'll, uh, see ya around, yeah?"

"Sure," you husk out, knowing it's all a lie. These soft words and kind glances are nothing more than routine hook-up etiquette— always try to part ways on friendly terms. You know this role by heart, have played out this scenario so many times that you can recite all the inane pleasantries in your sleep.

Only this time, you wish the words were true.

His eyes meet yours in the mirror, his weight shifting between his feet, then he winks and stuns you with another one of those mega-watt smiles. Stepping to the door, he takes hold of the handle but then pauses, his eyes drifting over you one last time. He seems on the verge of saying something, but his beautiful mouth presses into a thin line, the corners turned down. He takes in a long, slow breath then heaves it out with a wistful sigh. "Take care, love."

"You, too."

You offer up a brave smile and hold up a hand in farewell, though a pang of disappointment rings hollow inside your chest as you watch him step through the door and disappear. The racket from the club pours into the room like dirty flood water, and the sudden urge to go after him has you shuffling your feet. Then, with a pneumatic hiss of the closing door, the obnoxious noise is muffled again to a dull and distant roar, and your reason returns.

How pathetic would you have looked, chasing after him like some clingy, lovesick girl. Your fingers tighten on the edge of the sink as you peer into the mirror at your reflection. You're surprised by your forlorn expression and realize you feel a little sad now that he's gone.

Once you return to your seat, you ignore the chatter of your drunk friends, instead panning your eyes over the crowd. You're hoping to spot his familiar silhouette among the anonymous bodies but can't find him, again. He must have left, his mission for the night now complete, you think with a touch of bitterness. No point in sticking around, right?

You fancy that you could pretend he was just a drunken fever dream, nothing more than a figment of your inebriated imagination, if not for the dull ache that still resides deep in your core. Oh, he was real, alright, as real as his cum in your panties and the sore throb of your bruised cunt. You know in your heart of hearts that it will take weeks, maybe even months for his memory to fade. The thought is depressing.

"Think I'm gonna call it a night, ladies," you tell the bleary-eyed trio seated around the table.

Your friends fuss and protest, trying their best to coax you into one more drink or at least another dance, but they're too drunk to really see the state of you. If they were just a little bit sober, it would be more than obvious why you're so set on leaving; you're completely fucked out, decimated, ruined. You hug each of them good night and promise to text the group chat when you arrive home.

Cold air smacks you in the face when you step out of the club. You inhale a sharp, icy breath, fog condensing in front of your eyes as you release it. You can feel the chill wind seeping through the seams of your coat, feel how it settles deep into the marrow of your bones. You suddenly feel achy and tired and near desperate for the warm safety of your own bed.

A glance up and down the sidewalk reveals the lack of waiting taxis, so you pull out your phone and order an Uber, cursing the wait. Huddling deeper inside your coat, your let your thoughts drift back to that brief but memorable encounter in the loo. For once, you regret not getting a bloke's number, and now you can't help but wonder if that's why he paused before leaving. Had he wanted you to ask him for it?

Unfortunately, you'll probably never know.

It's probably for the best, you tell yourself. A handsome bloke like him would undoubtedly complicate your life. He's the type of man that makes a sane, independent woman want to bake cakes and make babies. He is dangerous. You knew it when you first saw him, and now he's proven it to you. Already the 'what-ifs' are rattling about inside your tired brain. It's a good thing he left when he did, otherwise...

Yeah, you're definitely better off not knowing.

Your phone chimes, notifying you that your Uber has arrived, a faded red hatchback pulling up to the curb seconds later. You check the driver's ID then climb into the backseat, sinking back into the cushions as the car pulls back into the light flow of traffic. It irritates you that you still feel that little inkling of sadness. It's such a haunted, lonely feeling.

Damn, you think, staring blindly out of the window. I wish I'd asked for his name.

-

part 2

[cal-flakes]

dealer!rafe catches reader touching herself

╰┈➤ rafe catches reader touching herself

warnings: dom/sub implications, intimidation, masturbation (f).

summary: rafe comes home from a stressful day to find y/n breaking his rules.

rafe exhaled deeply as leant against the now/closed front door, grateful to be gone finally. it was a long day with back to back meetings and shipment schedules. sighing, he quickly removed the pistol from his waistband, fortunately unused for the day, and placed it in it’s regular place, inside the locked draw in the hallway dressing table.

removing his suit jacket, he flexed his forearms as he stretched his arms out to run a hand over his buzzed head. his eyes flitted around the house in confusion, slightly unnerved by the unusual silence. rafe was used to coming home to his sweet girl either dancing around their shared home, or causing some sort of fuss about rearranging furniture. “baby?” he called, yet still met with nothing.

starting towards the kitchen, his head quickly turned as a quiet whimper drew his attention, swiftly turning to tread up the stairs.

“y/n, princess?” he called again, still nothing.

his brows furrowed as he noticed the bedroom door was closed, causing him to slow his footsteps, instead creeping towards the doorway. his eyes narrowed as muffled moans could be heard through the door, he leaned closer, pressing his ear up to the wood. “fuck..” she cried, desperation apparent in her voice.

his jaw ticked as he hurriedly reached for the handle, swinging the door open in a flash. her eyes widened in fear as his frame appeared in the doorway, his muscles bulging as he folded his arm over his chest. “shit! rafe..i- i didn’t think you’d be home so soon?” she muttered, a sweet smile plastered on her face as she snapped her legs shut.

“didn’t you?” he queried. unconvinced, he stepped closer, his hands wrapping around her ankles as he lingered at the end of the bed. “what were you doing baby?” he asked, intimidating her as the underlying sinister tone rang through her. “i- um, i was just-” she stumbled over her words as she looked around the room frantically.

cutting her off, he swiftly pulled down the bed by her ankles, earning a quiet shriek. “you were just breaking my rules while i wasn’t home huh? didn’t think you’d get caught?” he teased, placing the words in her mouth.

her mouth fell agape as she stared up at him, dumbfounded. rafe tutted as his ring-clad fingers trailed up her legs, lingering dangerously close to her throbbing core. “rafe i’m- i’m sorry..” y/n breathed, quick to give over once she’d weighed her options, coming to the conclusion that it was no use to try and lie her way out of this one.

“show me” he demanded, his teeth grinding as a low growl pushed it’s way out of his throat. “show you?” she whimpered as she blinked up at him through her lashes.

“open these legs, and show me what you were doing” he ordered, pushing her knees apart.

nodding quickly, she trailed a shy hand down to her wet folds and began rubbing gentle circles on her clit, causing her hips to buck. he stepped back, allowing himself to see the whole scene in front of him, staring her down as she threw her head back, moaning his name softly.

he fought the urge to take control,as his suit trousers emphasised the strain in his boxers. “look at me” he snapped, quickly gaining her full attention, in turn causing her to pull away from her heat. “i didn’t say stop, i said look at me” he snarled, his head tilting tauntingly.

“you broke the rules baby, you know what happens when you break the rules..” he spoke, a sly smile inching across his lips as she bowed her head, pulling her bottom lips between her teeth.

he closed the space between them, perching on the end of the bed next to her as she watched his movements with wide eyes. “over my knee pretty girl, c’mon..” he sighed, his tone indicating this wasn’t the first time he’d done those. “no, rafe…i’m really sorry, i was just so lonely, and i thought you were going to be gone for ages..” she plead, pouting as she shuffled to kneel beside him.

“i know sweetheart, i know..” he cooed, cupping her face with his large hands, drawing her into a false sense of security as she leant into his touch. however, his eyes suddenly darkened as he pulled away a hand, landing a soft smack onto her already flushed cheeks, her eyes squeezing shut at the impact. “but you broke the rules princess, and i can’t have that..” he grinned, mocking her for a moment.

y/n’s chin fell once again, fixing her eyes onto her hands in shame. this only frustrates him more as he swiftly tangled his hand in her hair, tugging her head back up. she gasped at the pain while an embarrassing pool began to form on to blankets beneath her. in attempt to cover it up, she shuffled around, yet only drew his attention to the wet patch quicker.

“oh, you’re enjoying this? well let’s see what you think when i’m done with you..” he spat, using his grip on her hair to pull her over his knee. “remember to count them, m’kay pretty girl?” he cooed once more, rubbing soft circles into the exposed skin of her behind.

[greyskyflowers]

The idea of Ace and Luffy being wild, feral things makes my own heart happy.

Honestly though, I picture them having a lot in common with animals.

Strong teeth, strong bones, tough skin, quick reflexes. The instincts that come from growing up wild.

An ability eat lot of things that other people maybe wouldn't or can't. Meat that's a little more rare than advisable and snapping bones to get to the marrow inside.

They walk quiet, soundless when they want to be, using shadows and blind spots to become basically invisible. They don't do it often because they both have terrible attention spans but they can sit still and silent for long periods of time if needed, waiting like predators for their prey.

Staring, the way animals stare and wait for the other one to back down, making themselves look bigger and baring teeth. They snarl and snap their teeth, flexing their hands like claws when they're not making fists, a low grumble in their chests that sounds like a odd growl.

How it's instinct to cover the throat and belly of themselves and their crews, vulnerable spots that must be protected.

Ace being one of the shorter of the Whitebeard crew, so he does that thing where he eases himself in front of the others to cover their throats and bellies. Curling his lip back to show teeth and keeping eye contact with anyone stupid enough to try.

Licking their wounds, literally.

I imagine them being incredible trackers, able to use their senses a little more than the average person. Ears a little sharper, scents being considered, eyes taking in all the little details. Maybe they're not aware of it, but I like to think they take it all in deeper than they possibly realize.

A sense for something wrong, like how some animals can pick up on the energy people give off, possible sicknesses, coming storms, being watched, etc.

Sleeping all tangled together, the way animals sleep together for safety and warmth in cooler times. Luffy and Ace are big cuddlers.

Not necessarily in the normal cuddle ways either, they like to either be sprawled out on top or covered by someone. They're either being protected or they're protecting.

Head butts and cheek rubs when happy. That extra emphasis on crew, like packs and herds. Crew.

A lot of touching. Playing with someone's hair or nuzzling into their neck or side, a lack of boundaries because animals don't have shame or concerns like that.

And everyone who regularly interacts with Ace or Luffy wants to know how two feral cats got trapped in human bodies.

Am I always down for poly crews? Yes

Platonic or otherwise? Yes

Do I think everyone is a little in love with Luffy? Yes

Do I think everyone is a little in love with Ace? Yes

The crews love their wild ones and spoil them rotten when they can and know how to.

And since this is already AU let's just roll with it.

♠️ Ace ♠️

Ace just despises Teach right off the bat. As soon as the ink has settled in his skin and he's got a claim on him that he's never had before, he's completely standoffish with Teach. No matter how much the others tell him that's his brother now and assure him, he's all teeth and fire when Teach is around.

The man makes the fine hairs on the back of his neck rise and the instincts pacing at the back of his mind spit out a hiss.

Threatthreatthreat

His teeth grind together in anger, muscles tense under his skin, and it's a vicious thing in his chest he hasn't felt so strongly since Sabo and Luffy were his.

It causes some tension. People torn between supporting Teach, who's been their own for awhile, or supporting Ace, who has a good sense for this type of thing and is so welcoming to everyone else. They don't know how Ace can be so sweet and well loved by everyone but does a complete 180 with Teach.

It's instincts that have gotten Ace this far in life though and one night, it's only those instinct that save Thatch.

Ace darting out of the shadows and landing like the wrath of a god in front of Thatch, the knife that would have gone into the man's back instead finds a home in Ace's shoulder.

A rumbling growl that gets louder and nastier as the seconds tick by, blood running down a bare chest before flames lick up a wound that only found flesh because letting it pass meant the possibility of it hitting someone else. Sharp teeth shining in the growing glow of the fire and the ends of his hair burning like the edge of paper.

The flames don't burn Thatch when the older turns around. His flames would never burn crew.

Thatch wraps an arm around his waist like he's going to pull him away, but it just stays there, heavy around him. Ace takes a moment to find comfort in the warm and very alive presence pressed up behind him, bigger than him and Thatch's own protective fury catching fire.

Marco is less restrained in his fury. As are most of the others when they rush to investigate. The only reasons it's not quick is because they want it to hurt.

Ace is a coiled threat the whole time, body tense but staying where he is because the original threat was to Thatch and he hasn't quite lowered his hackles from that yet. Still on his toes and ready to spring forward at a moments notice.

He gives a small warning growl to Marco when he gets close, who looks at him in both worry and fond exasperation.

The blood from the blade is black where it burned against his skin and the flesh is unmarked, but it doesn't stop everyone from fluttering nervously around him.

♠️

Ace is attractive, arguably pretty in a way most pirates aren't. Although this young generation is changing that quickly, have you seen some of these rookies?

He draws attention easily, everyone drawn in by his charming personality or freckled cheeks.

He's a flirt but he doesn't often let other people actually touch him. Leaning away from eager fingers or gracefully dodging arms, excusing himself when he feels to cornered. He doesn't want the feel of strangers on his skin, he just wants the crew. And Luffy of course, his heart giving a lonely pang for his brother.

Sometimes people don't get the hint though, and sometimes they do and they don't care.

Drugs don't effect Ace like they would someone who wasn't a devil fruit user but they still make him dizzy and weak before he burns through it.

It only takes once, outside a bar with someone's hands on his skin when they didn't belong there, on his lower stomach and the other up by his neck. He doesn't even get a chance to try to shake off the drug enough to do anything before the man is gone.

Familiar hands, Marco, running over his skin quick and firm like it could wipe away the foreign touch before he processed it was there. Like if he replaced the unknown touch with his own quick enough it will wipe away the lingering disgust and discomfort of the stranger.

The whole time he keeps Ace hidden between his larger body and the wall behind them. Ace's heart aches almost as much as his head with how thoughtful it was. How safe and grounding it was.

The only arms he lets grab him, the only hands that he presses in to, are crew.

♠️

Ace has a habit of sneaking into everyone's bed, they don't talk about how they all know it's on the nights where he can't sleep or has nightmares. He burrows between them and the mattress, until he's under them enough to feel covered, safe and protected.

Ace isn't a small guy but he's lean, always had a hard time bulking up with his metabolism being so high and his natural build. He feels small with them, especially the commanders like Jozu and Vista who completely cover him. Even Thatch and Marco are decently larger than him though, Izo and Haruta being the exceptions but they're large in everything that they are.

They all welcome him. He's warm and sweet, plus it's nice to know he's sleeping somewhere safe instead of falling asleep in strange places through the day.

Marco is usually his favorite though because he doesn't pretend to be asleep. He just props himself up enough so Ace can wiggle under him before settling back down, his chest to Ace's back.

Some nights when the pressure is too much and he's restless in a way that feels like it's deep in his bones, he paces the ship. He's coiled and tight, usually not sleeping for a few days before it catches up to him and he slinks away somewhere dark and hidden to finally rest.

Usually one of the other commanders can coax him into resting, all of them getting the hang of how to best help their wild, little one.

♠️

The crew getting used to Ace just crawling into their laps and making himself at home. He is also fond of appearing just long enough to rub his face into someone's neck or against their cheek before taking off again.

♠️

Ace sneaking off to literally lick his wounds in peace when he gets hurt, especially when he was still finding his place. Someone always having to go track him down because he stays curled away like an injured animal until he feels better if they don't.

Licking at his arm one time when he manages to get caught with seastone, blood staining his teeth and tongue rust colored. Marco trying to grab him and in full lecture mode as Ace tries to dig out the lingering seastone with his teeth.

♠️

An extra one to hurt just a little ♥️

Ace is wild. Already a problem before you factor in his devil fruit and raw power. He's got a reputation of biting, taking off fingers and catching throats between sharp teeth.

It seems like someone did their research though because the muzzle they wrangle him into has seastone. Everyone has finally caught on to the fact that he doesn't need his flames to bite.

It's a sharp, nasty thing. Probably thrown together quick in a desperate attempt to get him under control. The straps dig into his skin hard enough to draw blood and Ace can already picture Marco talking about infections.

It hurts and goes from a deep, dull discomfort to a sharp, active pain. The muzzle settles into his skin and rub the skin raw where it doesn't outright cut into it. He's been captured for a few days, the wounds clotting and trying to heal only to be ripped back open when moving a certain way.

It was only a matter of time until they came for him and when the guards start getting fidgety he wishes he could show his teeth in a grin. Everyone knows what happens to those stupid enough to mess with the Whitebeard pirates.

He always knew they'd find him, even when the guards whispered in his ear cruel taunts about being forgotten. Unloved.

His heart still goes heavy with affection when he hears the first sounds of death coming for his captors.

[gaily-daily-musings]

More anti-christ Anakin snippets (first drabble here)

-

Anakin cannot call the horsemen to him without calling all of them at once. They'd be overwhelmed and the Apocalypse would jump start. So for now they have to track them down one by one the hard way. Except they don't really know where to start.

While in Paris they meet a psychic who claims to have connections with a low level demon. Anakin thinks there may be a chance the demon may know something about where the horsemen are currently stationed. Which parts of the world. Anything at this point would be helpful.

They arrange a meeting with it. They turn up in some shithole back end bar. The demon is wearing a Glamour and they recognize Anakin. They panic and try to flee. They run into the back but Anakin gives chase and uses his powers to capture it. (He's been practicing. He's getting very good and very powerful.)

It's then they notice all the bodies withering in the room where they've chased the demon into. The sounds of pleasure fill the air. This was a succubus. These were its victims. It lured them back here for an orgy of a feast.

The people moan loudly, grinding against each other. Their naked limbs flail like ants. Oily skin and engorged cocks pump into various holes. Anakin crinkles his nose. A woman crawls over to him and paws at his ankle.

“Don't touch me!” Anakin hisses and kicks her away.

Obi-Wan is entirely red at the entrance to the room. He's trying very hard not to look at anyone.

The succubus laughs. “You're such a pretty thing, my Prince. He doesn't treat you right does he? Keeps you at arms length.” It gestures to Obi-Wan. “I can help you find release. I'd have you out of your mind with pleasure.”

Anakin crushes their throat in his palm. It screams and struggles. How dare they imply he'd cheat on Obi-Wan!

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan calls. “We need them alive!”

He loosens his grip letting them breath. The Succubus scrambles for air.

“You will tell us what we need to know.” Anakin snarls.

“Alright! Alright! Can't blame a demon for trying!”

They don't know much in the end but they do know of another nearby demon. It was a solider in the army that had been summoned from hell a couple decades ago. It had taken on a form to integrate into society. The Succubus is pretty sure they worked with Pollution.

Anakin thanks the demon then snaps it's neck. At once the people on the floor stop wiggling in pleasure. Clarity returns to their eyes. Someone screams.

-

The lead is a dead end and they have to return to the states.

While having lunch outside a cafe back in the states, a little girl tries to steal something from Anakin's bag. He turns mid conversation and snatches her wrist. It startles both Obi-Wan and the girl.

“Let go!”

“How about you let go of my shit first?”

“Fuck you!”

Anakin grins with all of his teeth. “I'll eat you, you little gremlin!”

“Not if I eat you first!” she growls back and then bites him.

Anakin howls and lets her go. She runs. Anakin gives chase.

Obi-Wan nearly trips over the chair gathering their stuff and going after them. He's slower than either of them and almost loses them.

The girl turns into the nearby park disappearing past the bushes. Anakin vanishes after her. Not long after that Obi-Wan hears a scream. His heart leaps into his throat. Was he actually eating her?!?

He bursts through the bushes onto the scene. Anakin has pinned the thief to the ground pressing her face into the grass. She shrieks and kicks him in the shin. Anakin lets out a pained grunt and she wiggles free. Instead of running she turns to tackle him. They roll around on the grass.

It takes a moment to process the sound coming from Anakin's mouth. He was laughing.

They finally break and Anakin lets her up. “What's your name pipsqueak?”

“Ahsoka! And I'm not a pipsqueak you jerk!”

-

They learn Ahsoka's parents passed away and she'd gone to live with her uncle who was a neglectful alcoholic. He never had any food in the house so she'd taken to finding her own. She'd gotten a knack for it too. She was good.

Anakin liked to pick on her. From the outside perspective it appeared mean spirited but in truth it was just his way of teasing her.

Anakin flings a french fry at her. “Why are you such a brat?”

They were currently by the poolside of the hotel they were staying at. Ahsoka often spent time with them there. She never asked why they didn't live in a house or an apartment.

“I dunno. Why are you such an asshole?”

She flings a french fry back at him.

Obi-Wan, who is sunbathing, sincerely hopes this doesn't dissolve into another food fight. They'd already gotten kicked out of the ice cream parlor when Anakin and Ahsoka had started smashing their cones into each other's faces.

Still, it warmed his heart to know Anakin had finally, after all this time, made a friend.

-

When they leave Nebraska, Ahsoka follows them. They don't have the heart to make her go back to her Uncle. So she stays and travels with them.

Because they're “on the run” Ahsoka thinks it would be cool to dye her hair like in the movies. She asks Anakin to help her. They have to bleach it first. It's a whole ordeal. By the time they're done the bathroom looks like a smurf was brutally murdered.

Anakin ends up missing a lot of chunks of hair. It's a swirl of blue and bleach white. Ahsoka looks at herself in the mirror. She's silent. Obi-Wan holds his breath.

She squeals in delight. “I love it!”

-

There's a sudden lurch in Anakin's gut. It feels unfamiliar and weird. Anakin looks at Obi-Wan wide eyed.

“Obi-Wan…” He stretches out a hand and then disappears.

There's an awful screech. Anakin thinks it's coming from himself, traveling through the ether of wherever it is he is being taken.

He comes to in the middle of a forest. He's surrounded by people in black robes. They look kinda like cultists.

“Lord Morningstar!” They praise.

They are cultists.

“Where the fuck am I?” He growls.

“My Lord, we have called you here in service to you!”

They reveal themselves as a doomsday cult. They wanted to help jumpstart the Apocalypse in his name. The date for the impending end of the world had come and gone and they'd taken it upon themselves to find him and deliver him to the Horseman.

“Do you know where they are?” well, where the rest of them were anyway. One of them was destroyed already.

“We can find out, my lord!”

They conjure a book and bring it to him. The book of the dead. It contained ramblings of a madman with visions of the Apocalypse and prophecies of the antichrist. It also held enchantments and incantations for summoning demons and devils alike. Interesting.

Anakin kills them all and steals the book. He makes the long trek back to Obi-Wan and Ahsoka. It takes several days as he has to catch a few flights. It's easy to manipulate minds now. He can come and go as he pleases. No one can resist. No one can disobey. Obi-Wan hates it when he uses this ability but he thinks he'll forgive him this time. It was an emergency.

Ah hell, Obi-Wan would forgive him either way. Who's he kidding?

By the time they reunite several days later Obi-Wan is out of his mind with worry. They embrace.

“I thought you'd been dragged to hell!”

Anakin kisses him. Obi-Wan kisses back ardently. Buoyed by distance and affection, Anakin dips the man in his arms. He takes as much as he knows Obi-Wan will allow before the other man pulls away. He was still only 19 after all. Obi-Wan didn't initiate touching very often and he never undressed.

At times, waiting for him annoys Anakin. But he would not love Obi-Wan if he weren't so stubborn. So he's resolved to wait until the older man was ready.

“Where's my hug jerk?!”

Ahsoka pops up and hugs him. Anakin hugs back. She hadn't seen him disappear. She'd been out doing whatever it was pre-teen girls did.

“Obi-Wan said he lost you! Where'd you go?”

“I got summoned by some cultists who worshiped me.”

Ahsoka flattens her face. “Sure. Right.”

Anakin had shown her his powers before and she believed in the Supernatural. But she didn't buy the whole son-of-the-devil schtick. Anakin? No way.

Anakin turns to Obi-Wan. “Here. They had this.”

He hands him the book of the dead. Obi-Wan is predictably fascinated. He'd loved studying those old religious books back when they'd lived in the convent.

They figure out how to summon a hellhound one night to do their bidding. Two actually. Anakin lovingly names them Artoo and Chopper.

They're able to cast a Glamour so they appear like regular dogs. Anakin takes them on walkies. Ahsoka starts a TikTok page for them.

-

In hindsight perhaps the TikTok was a bad idea.

They're captured five months later in England by a group of rogue priests. They'd hunted Anakin down from his internet trail. They'd seen through the Glamour and knew they had to take action.

They're taken by surprise and knocked out. They wake in what looks like a basement. A large one. They're surrounded by dark figures.

“Where the fuck are my dogs?”

“Back in hell where they belong. Soon you will join them.”

A man steps out of the shadows. They are priests wearing strange robes that Obi-Wan has never seen before.

“The Order of Jedi.” Anakin greets them with a savage grin.

“I see you know of us.” The dark skinned man says.

Anakin shrugs. “Qui-Gon may have mentioned you a few times.”

“I am Mace Windu. Grand Master of the Order. Id say it's a pleasure but it's not.”

“The feelings mutual.”

Obi-Wan is completely lost. “What?”

Anakin turns as much as he can while tied to the chair. They were sitting across from each other side by side.

“His old Order, dedicated to translating the prophecies and locating the antichrist. Whenever I misbehaved, Qui-Gon would threaten to turn me over to them and kill me.” He shrugs. “I knew he was bluffing.”

You've frowns. “He'd cut all contact with us years ago. When we heard about his death we sent someone to investigate. Imagine our surprise when we found out he'd been harboring you all along.”

Obi-Wan looks between them. “I don't understand. Why didn't he turn Anakin over?”

“we discovered his journals during our search. He meant to end the child the night he came into the world. But then he saw him with you.” He addresses Obi-Wan directly. “he wrote of how Anakin settled on your arms as if at peace. He wrote many passages over the years of the boy's progress and the way he interacted with his chosen guardian. He believed there was hope for the devil's child.”

Obi-Wan stills. He never knew…

Mace scoffs. “He was a fool. You cannot change evil.”

Anakin snarls.

The priests gather in a circle. Obi-Wan grows nervous.

“What's happening? What are you doing?”

“What Qui-Gon should have done years ago. Don't worry. You won't be hurt. The holy fire only vanquishes demons. To a human it will simply cleanse your soul of any darkness. Once you are pure again we will free you.”

Anakin struggles in his restraints. But the binding must be enchanted. He cannot get free. He cannot use his powers. He yells obscenities at them.

“Wait!” Obi-Wan says trying to keep his rising panic at a manageable level. “Your Order's purpose is to stop the Apocalypse right? That's what we're doing! We've already killed the Horseman of Pollution! Maybe we can help each other! Join forces!”

Mace gives him a leveled stare. “We do not make deals with Devil's. Satan's spawn has you in his grip. We will free you from his influence.”

“Good fucking luck getting rid of me assholes! I'm goddamn indestructible!”

Mace's stare finally breaks into a smirk. “Normally yes. Holy fire will only hurt you, not kill you the way it would a simple demon. But we have the weapon built by Revan himself. It will kill any evil being. Including you. Not even Death itself can hide from its blade.”

Obi-Wan pales.

The ritual begins. The priests chant ominously.

The fire lights around them. Anakin starts screaming. He cannot stop. It wasn't burning his clothes but his face and hair were peeling away. The sight horrifies Obi-Wan. He yells and cries but he can do nothing but watch.

The door to the basement bursts open.

“Anakin!”

It was Ahsoka. She'd seen them get captured and dragged away. The dogs are with her. They pounce on the men and viciously tear them apart.

She rushes over to Obi-Wan and unties him.

“How did you find us?”

“I got the book and summoned Artoo and Chopper back! I had them track you down!”

The second he's free he turns to Anakin's charred body. The fire had gone out when the chanting stopped. Ahsoka hesitates.

“Should…should we touch him?”

Obi-Wan's body buzzes with adrenaline. Anakin was hurt. He was in pain. He needed him.

Around them, the priests that were still alive were fighting off the hounds. Obi-Wan is torn between joining the fight and getting Anakin out of here.

Suddenly everything slows. Anakin's head snaps up. Golden eyes shimmer brightly. He bursts free of his restraints. He stands and stands forward. He whistles low, calling off the dogs. They obey.

Obi-Wan feels his early breakfast lurch in his stomach. Anakin looked like a third degree burn victim. It was grotesque. It looked painful.

Anakin lifts his hand and two of the men lift with it. They spin on the air like toy tops. Anakin makes a fist and crushes them. Their bones snap and they go limp. Now only Mace was left.

Anakin snaps his fingers and Mace drops to his knees with a cry. Anakin places his hands upon the man's face. Almost immediately Mace screams. Obi-Wan sees his skin ripple like a wave. It looked like Anakin was absorbing it. While Anakin’s skin was getting healthier and less burned looking, Mace was growing weaker and more thin. Mace tries to fight but he wasn't strong enough. He reaches weakly for Obi-Wan.

“please…help me…”

Anakin vibrates with violent delight at the man's agony. Although it is not a sight Obi-Wan enjoys, he cannot feel all too sorry for him. Mace had tried to take Anakin away from him.

Once dead, Anakin backs away rolls his neck to pop the joints. “God that sucked. I hate fire.”

From the corner Ahsoka speaks. “You really are the anti-christ aren't you?”

“I literally told you I was!”

“Why would I have ever believed you?? You lie all the time!”

“I do not!” Anakin snaps.

“Do too!”

Obi-Wan starts laughing. It startles the pair.

“hey are you okay?” Anakin reaches for him. “Did they hurt you?”

Still, chuckling, Obi-Wan shakes his head. “I'm fine. Just relieved we're all okay.”

Once they get back home Anakin complains about those stupid priests and whines about feeling weird in his skin now.

Obi-Wan kisses him and Anakin shuts up.

“Would you like some help resettling into your new skin?”

Anakin mods vehemently. Eager like a puppy. Obi-Wan chuckles. Ahsoka gags.

-

Obi-Wan dreams on occasion. Nothing so special or vivid. They were normal.

But this seemed real. Very real.

He sits before Qui-Gon at a table. There's a chess board in front of them. They used to play and drink tea together often.

“You're doing very well, Obi-Wan.” Qui-Gon smiles at him.

“Am I? It looks like I'm losing from where I'm sitting.”

“With Anakin. Teaching him humility and compassion and how to be good.”

Obi-Wan pauses, feeling warm. Can you blush in a dream?

“But be careful of your soul, my friend. It is easy to fall when one walks the line of temptation.”

-

They come for Death last. He is the strongest of the four. The entity reveals that when Obi-Wan and Anakin die one day, their souls will be separated. Ankain belonged in hell. But Obi-Wan would go to heaven.

Anakin rages. He decides he wants to start the Apocalypse. They could be together in the ruins of the Earth.

“We won't.” Obi-Wan half promises half threatens. “If you bring destruction you'll never have me willingly again!”

That makes him pause.

Death goads Anakin. What will it be? Let Obi-Wan go one day? Or fulfill his destiny?

Obi-Wan takes his head gently in his hands. “We'll make a place for ourselves. Just for us. A place that's neither heaven nor hell. I won't let you go either Anakin.”

Anakin nuzzles his hands. His angry tears turn hopeful. They'll live in the stars. In the void of space as their souls explore the universe.

Anakin reaches for the weapon and slices Death's head off.

[inkformyblood]

kiss me quick (COD Kinktober 2024 Day 12)

Sex pollen, a/b/o dynamics. Alpha Soap, Alpha Alejandro, Beta Rudy, Omega Ghost. SoapGhost, AleRudy, AleGhost, SoapRudy, AleRudySoapGhost. Lemon. (Longer fic will be coming for this prompt, I really enjoyed writing it<3)

There’s blood smeared across Alejandro’s teeth — his own, his lower lip swollen and split, torn open a few seconds prior — and he catches himself against the table, shoving it backwards with the force of his impact. Stupid fucking officials and their stupid half-brained decisions, may they rot—

A flush of heat rolls through him, the beginnings of his rut drawn on four months too soon, overwhelming the bitter chemical tang of the suppressants he takes to regulate his cycle. Alejandro tears at his sleeves, the thin fabric clinging to his sweat-soaked skin before it rips, and lets the tatters drop free. Across the room from him, Ghost prowls, his mask partially shoved up his face and caught in the snarl of his teeth. What little Alejandro can see of his skin is flushed, pale scars standing out in stark relief around his lips, a smear of blood over the corner of his mouth.

They hadn’t even been exposed fully, the canister deploying at Soap’s feet first as the gas billowed out. Not a standard chemical weapon but something experimental so when they had staggered back to base with Rudy tucked beneath Soap’s arm to keep the man upright, Beta pheromones the only thing keeping him awake and moving, and Alejandro with Ghost’s teeth locked into his shoulder tight enough that he scraped against bone, they were bundled into rooms as they stood. 

Separated.

It would make sense on paper, Alpha with a Beta and an Alpha with an Omega and it’s that alone that’s keeping Alejandro upright, keeping him furious. Should have least been able to buy the other set of men a drink first before broaching the idea Rudy had whispered into his ear after their first meeting; the pair folded into the closest supply cupboard and Alejandro’s hands tucked down Rudy’s trousers. 

His Rudy always has the best plans.

“Was going to—“ Alejandro breaks off as Ghost growls, a distant rumbling like the passing of a train several floors down. The other man hasn’t moved from the opposite wall since they’d been deposited into this holding room, Soap and Rudy kept away by one single barrier. He continues, the tang of iron heavy over his tongue. “Was going to ask you both properly, maybe over a few drinks, but we want to fuck you. Both of you.”

Ghost straightens, the movement nearly imperceptible in the gathered shadows next to the wall. “Soap was— He was going to ask you.” He slowly slides down the wall, hands bunched  into tight fists on his thighs. “He’s better at that sort of thing.”

“My Rudy as well.” Alejandro steps forward, chances another when Ghost doesn’t snarl at him for the intrusion. A third step brings him in front of the other man, in reach of his still-bared teeth, a low growl tumbling from Ghost’s throat. “We chose well, yes, Ghost?”

Alejandro bites at his knuckles, his bones beginning to ache from the oncoming wave of want that is burning through his belly, a desperate scramble to remain upright and not wrap his hands around his cock and squeeze until he’s spilling the first of many releases onto the floor. Ghost isn’t faring much better, his hips swaying, grinding himself against the caught seam of his trousers. There’s a sweet scent in the air, something that reminds Alejandro of the little sachets of tea Soap carries with him, vaguely citrus and sharp. 

Ghost chews his lower lip, his fangs indenting the skin. Hesitation is clear in the line of his shoulders, the tight grip on the fabric of his trousers. 

“You can fuck me,” Alejandro offers, splaying his hands wide. “I don’t mind.”

There’s a gleam in Ghost’s blown-wide eyes, his pupils dark and blotting out the thin strip of brown around them, curiosity merging with a fierce desire. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Alejandro crouches and leans backwards, reclining onto the cold floor. 

Ghost moves quickly, one hand planted on Alejandro’s chest and pushing him flat to the ground while he braces himself with the other as Alejandro wraps his legs around Ghost’s hips, tugging him closer. 

“Talk later,” Alejandro murmurs, tipping his head back to expose his throat, the mating scar over the scent gland on his throat. “We’ll talk later.”

A growl tears free from Ghost and he bites Alejandro once more, an action Alejandro knows to be an agreement. 

[leviackermanscleaningbuddy]

SKZ DRABBLE-OT8

The one where it's Halloween. (Happy Halloween in January. Don't @ me, it's spooky szn all year round here, bitches.)

Or the twenty first installment of the SKZ!pack prequel series.

Tags: SKZ, Stray Kids, Stay, OT8, Skz!pack, Skz!abo, poly!skz, omegaverse, pack!prequel, skz!pack prequel, prequel series, skz drabble, skz imagines, skz reactions, skz scenarios, skz x you, skz x reader, bang chan, lee minho, seo changbin, lee felix, hwang hyunjin, han jisung, kim seungmin, yang jeongin, y/n

Genre: Fluff, Light Smut

Warnings: Primal play is back. But make it *spooky.*

A/N: Bear with me, this one got long. But hopefully you enjoy it. This is my thanks for sticking with me through all the angst. 😘

Title: Dangerous Games

“Do you like it? When he fucks you?”

You’re trembling, your entire body aching from being so cold, and you shake your head slightly, looking away from the darkness of his gaze. 

“I-I don’t want to play anymore.” 

Your voice comes out weak, shaky, and your teeth are chattering. 

It’s still raining, and a flash of lightning lights up the sky, illuminating the eerie makeup, starting to drip, that covers the majority of his face. 

He takes your chin roughly between his fingers and turns you back to face him. 

Thunder crashes, only moments after the lightning. 

You jump, but you don’t know whether it’s from the storm or because he’s suddenly slamming his hand into the trunk of the tree above your head, leaning into your space. 

There’s a slightly smug smirk to his words when he speaks again, but it does nothing to soften the dangerous undertones beneath. 

“Then answer my question. And I’ll let you go.” 

You know he won’t. He never does. 

Swallowing, you rub your hands up and down your arms, trying to warm yourself, feeling your sweatshirt stick heavily to your skin as the rain drips steadily down your back from the tree overhead. 

“I don’t want to play your game anymore.” You whisper out, clenching your jaw, trying to stop your teeth from violently knocking together. 

It’s fucking freezing, and the longer you stand here, the more sure you’re going to freeze to death. 

He arches a dark brow at your words, disappearing into the red paint that runs along his hairline-some extension of his creepy death day mask-and his lips quirk up dangerously. 

You haven’t used the safeword yet in any of your pleading, so he can still play with you as much as he wants, and you both know it. 

A thrill of anticipation runs down your spine as he leans in closer once more, swiping his nose along your jaw, nice and slow, taking his time, and you feel the sticky paint he wears transfer to your own skin, striped across your throat like a brand.

“Interesting.” He muses, voice low and honeyed, sending a pool of warmth to your core where it settles directly between your legs. “How you’re still avoiding my question.” 

And then his fingers close around your throat, not tight enough to hurt, but tight enough to control, pinning you back roughly against the bark of the tree, and all the breath caves from your lungs. 

His fingers dig into the divots just beneath your jaw, and you can feel your own pulse pounding beneath his hold. 

It’s exciting, intoxicating, and it makes you forget about the cold, miserable state you’re currently in. 

He leans in once more, eyes swirling gold beneath the makeup, and lifts his lips in a snarl, the tips of his sharp canines flashing white in the dark, your heart rising to your throat. 

The air is crisp with a brewing storm.

“I’ll give you one more chance.” He growls beneath his breath, and the words scraping past his teeth have you clenching up in need. You gasp for air, and not because of the hand around your throat, and he leans in again, teeth grazing across your bottom lip. 

He doesn’t kiss you, just hovers his mouth over yours, so you can feel his hot breath wash across your face with every exhale, and then he grinds out, “Do you like it when he fucks you.” 

It’s not a question, it’s a demand. 

His free hand goes into your hair, fisting there, yanking your head back to force you to meet his gaze, and you gasp out, as your entire body tingles, “Yes! Yes. I like it.” 

He holds you there for another moment, staring down at you, the space between you filled with nothing but your harsh breaths, and then he slowly unclenches his hand from your hair, letting your head drop back down to your chest. 

“There we go. See how easy that was?” His voice is sultry, pleasant even, now that he’s got what he wanted. 

You take in a couple of gulps of air, your lungs on fire and your entire body sprung like a snapping electrical wire. 

One by one, his fingers uncurl from your throat and he lets you go entirely, stepping back and removing his body where it’s been pinning you against the tree for the last twenty minutes or so, and you instantly feel cold again, your muscles resuming their shaking. 

He tilts his head, watching you, and it’s too dark to see anything but the dark reds and blacks of his face paint, the golden swirl in his eyes, and the flash of his sharp teeth when he smirks, before he says smoothly, “I’ll keep my end of the deal. But I’d start running if I were you, before I change my mind.” 

Your brows arch into your hairline in surprise, leaned over against the tree, trying to catch your breath, and you stare at him, as he backs toward the nearby treeline, away from you. 

You straighten up as he turns to take a step, starting to disappear back into the thicker, darker part of the woods. 

“What if I don’t want to run?” 

He pauses midstep, glancing over his shoulder at your bold words, and a flash of lightning overhead illuminates the surprise twisting his face beneath the paint of his mask. 

You take a confident step toward him, the rain dripping from your hair and into your eyes, making the night appear fuzzy around you, but he’s clear as day, standing, waiting, warily watching you.

“What if I want to tell you how much I like him fucking me?” You question quietly, sneakers barely making a sound as you advance toward him, cold long forgotten as a renewed fire flares deep within your bones. “What if I want to tell you every single detail of how it feels, down to the way I always come while gasping his name?” 

“Don’t-” He chokes out, facing you head on now, eyes wide and golden, chest heaving, and you know, you know without a doubt-

You’ve got him. He’s the one playing your game now. 

“Do you want to know what it’s like?” You query casually, taking another step, and he’s staring you down without blinking, pupils blown wide and so dark they could swallow you whole. 

Another flash of lightning, followed by a boom of thunder, and you smirk, because you’re enjoying this game now, the hunted turned into the hunter. 

Your sneakers soak with water as you step into a particularly deep puddle, but you ignore the icy cold liquid sloshing in your shoes, your entire body on fire as you stalk toward him. 

He’s frozen, hovering just in front of the safety of the woods, caught between his salvation and his demise. 

“I bet you’d like it, you know.” You go on, doggedly ignoring the rain as you get closer, ever closer. “In fact, I know you would, because why else would you ask if you didn’t want to know?”

His throat bobs with a swallow, and you can see the hunger growing deep within his eyes. 

The tables have turned. 

He’s no longer the big bad wolf, you are. 

“Do you picture it?” You ask, voice soft and low, the space all but nonexistent between the two of you now. 

You cock your head curiously and stare up at him-the grotesque face paint, the hood pulled low over his head, the slight part of his lips, as if he’s trying to get enough air and can’t quite fill his lungs. 

Something hot and triumphant swirls in your belly, and you confidently loop your arms around his neck, pulling your body flush against his own. 

He’s warm, even through the soaking wet hoodie he wears, and he’s hard, just like you knew he would be. 

You lean up and let your lips brush the lobe of his ear as you speak. 

“Do you picture it when you’re alone and getting yourself off? Your best friend fucking me? Do you picture what it would be like to be there? Hm? Just you and him and me, all tangled up, nothing but skin-” 

He’s panting slightly now,and you hide your smirk behind your teeth, letting your hand trail down his back, the muscles tense beneath your palm. 

“Do you let yourself think about it? Who would get to be inside of me? Or maybe you’d share? Would you use your mouth, your fingers? Would I say his name or yours when I finally let myself come?” 

He swallows, and you turn your head into his throat, letting your teeth graze his scent gland, and he shudders, putty in your hands. 

“I’d let the two of you do it, you know. All you have to do is say the word, Channie.” 

Your voice is a purr, and he swallows again, harder this time. 

“What word?” He rasps out, and you’ve got him. 

You let your hands fall from his neck enough to step back and meet his gaze, eyes hot and molten, lips sucked between his teeth. 

You tilt your head and look at him coyly, suddenly dropping the pretense as you stare up at him, triumphant smugness washing across your face as you say lightly, all sultriness gone from your tone, “Well, you can start by admitting I won.” 

He looks confused, and you hold up your left hand, black scrunchie wrapped around your fingers. 

You grin and back away. 

Irritation washes across his eyes, lips pulling into a dangerous, thin line, and he takes a menacing step toward you. 

You, however, have no intention of letting him catch you. 

You wiggle your fingers at him, tucking the scrunchie in your hoodie pocket for safe keeping. 

“See you back at base, baby.” 

And then you turn and sprint into the woods without a backward glance. 

You can hear him, hot on your heels, the whole race back to the quad and the waiting cars, but he doesn’t have the chance to catch you, not with the two second head start you’d given yourself, and soon, you find yourself sprinting onto the manicured grass of the college, joining the rest of the prey as you triumphantly hold the black scrunchie aloft. 

The rest of your group whoops and hollers, picking you up and holding you on their shoulders like you’ve just won the goddamn olympics, and you grin down at Chan, entering the quad moments after you, a glare focused in your direction as he comes to a stop and catches his breath beside the other waiting Predators. 

Wooyoung grins as you’re let down, plucking the scrunchie from your hand and adding it to the growing pile on the hood of the car. 

“Well done, beautiful. We’ve totally got them tonight.” He bangs his hand on the hood of the car to emphasize his words, and beside him, Jongho rolls his eyes good naturedly beneath the paint of his warrior mask. 

“Prey for the winnnnn!” Jisung hollers, slinging an arm around your shoulders, as he smacks a loud kiss against your ear. 

You swipe at the wet skin he’s left behind, paint coming off onto your fingers, and glance sidelong at him, his dark eyes somehow made even darker by the white, ghostly paint he wears slathered across his face. 

“We haven’t won yet.” Hyunjin points out, pursing his full lips, as he counts the scrunchies, the red lipstick he wears smeared across one corner of his mouth. “We still need two more Predator tokens.” 

You glance to the said group of hunters, milling around across from you beside their own car, shadows in the blazing headlights, the downpour of dark rain, and mentally take count in your head.

Chan, Changbin, Hongjoong, San, Yunho, Yeosang, Mingi-

Shit, Seonghwa and Minho were still out there. 

You glance around at the members of your own group surrounding you, and a sinking realization hits the pit of your stomach. 

Jeongin. Where’s Jeongin? 

There was an extra predator out there tonight, one less prey, which meant someone had to take on two hunters, and somehow, amidst all the hunting, the youngest member had been left alone, in the woods, with Minho and Seonghwa. 

They were hunting him, together. 

Everything goes cold, and it’s not because you’re soaked to the bone. 

“Shit.” You swear out loud this time, and Jisung looks at you questioningly, arm still looped around your throat. You glance at him and whisper urgently, “Minho and Seonghwa are out there still, and Jeongin’s alone.” 

Realization dawns in Jisung’s dark eyes, and his lips pull into a thin line. 

“Should one of us go looking for him?” 

You shake your head, blinking a few times to clear the sting of the makeup running from the rain and into your eyes, and bite your lip. 

“I don’t know-” You glance across the gap to the predators. “How many of our scrunchies did they make out with?” 

“All of them.” Jongho appears at your side, narrowing his eyes at the waiting predators. 

“Not mine-” You start to protest, reaching down to your wrist for the cool fabric, but feeling nothing there. You panic, patting your pockets, and Jisung nudges you in the side, motioning with a jut of his chin toward the other car. 

You see Chan, standing in front of the headlights, watching you, and when he sees you looking at him, he holds up his hand, your white scrunchie dangling tauntingly from his fingers.

 He winks at you, lips pulled into a smirk, and you growl in irritation beneath your breath. 

“Dammit.” 

“It’s just a matter of time.” Jongho goes on beside you, leaning up against the car, the rain dripping from his dark hair and smearing the makeup on his round cheeks. He flips off Mingi across the way, who grins like the Cheshire cat, and then sighs. “Your boy has to make it back first with both missing predator tokens, or we’re fucked.” 

Jisung groans. “Fuck it all, and tonight I really thought we had a chance of winning.” 

“We still do.” You protest, glancing toward the dark treeline, but making out no movement. The confidence in your voice weakens slightly.  “He could still pull it off.”

Wooyoung appears, leaning his chin on Jongho’s shoulder, and audibly scoffs. 

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” He ignores your pointed glare and swipes at his nose, smearing the red clown paint from the tip. “Seonghwa-hyung is notoriously brutal at this game. Your little freshman doesn’t stand a chance.” 

Seungmin sidles up beside Jisung, hands in his pockets, his raincoat drenched and his dark hair plastered to his forehead. The puppy face paint Felix had forced him into before you left the apartment is all but wiped from his skin as he surveys the dark expanse of the forest. 

“Minho-hyung isn’t gonna let him go if he catches him, not until he has the scrunchie.” 

“He’s a fucking predator, man.” Jisung heaves out a sigh, dejected, but a slight gleam of admiration in his words. “On and off the playing field.” 

“Hey.” Chan appears several feet from the group of you, and you glance to him warily, turning your body to face him, even as he holds out his hands, palm up, as if in truce. “Don’t tear me apart. I’m just here to deliver a message.” 

Wooyoung smirks wryly, watching the two of you, and Jisung rolls his eyes as you step forward to meet the other alpha, arms crossed and brow cocked. 

“Well?” 

His casual expression falters slightly, and then he clears his throat, holding your gaze. 

“If they’re not back in ten minutes, we’re gonna call it a tie and find them for the night. We’re freezing our fucking asses off.” 

“And if he wins?” You ask heatedly, and Chan looks caught off guard. 

“If your boy pulls it off then-”

A whoop sounds from the edge of the woods, and everyone-prey and predator-turn as one to see Jeongin making a mad dash for the waiting cars, Seonghwa and Minho hot on his heels. 

Chan’s mouth falls open, and you grin triumphantly. 

“And if he wins?” 

He looks back to you with open shock on his face, as the rest of the prey team starts screaming encouragement at the approaching youngest, some of them holding their arms out as he comes barreling toward your group. 

You smirk and turn from Chan, right as Jeongin plows into the waiting arms of Jisung and Wooyoung, two black scrunchies held triumphantly aloft. 

Minho and Seonghwa are seconds behind him, sliding to a halt so as not to bowl the waiting group of prey over, hands instantly going to their knees as they gasp for breath. 

“Fucking kid tricked us!” Seonghwa yells out, clearly irritated, and Jeongin grins. 

“Boo hoo!” Wooyoung calls back mockingly, snatching the scrunchies and adding them to your now complete pile. He steps back over and holds Jeongin’s arms in the air in a triumphant fist pump. “Prey win!” 

“Let’s goooo!” Jisung crows triumphantly, swinging the still grinning Jeongin into his arms and spinning him around, almost stumbling over his own feet. “Way to go, kid!” 

You step toward the freshman, grinning ear to ear, and do a quick visual check on him. He looks fine, if a little muddier than you last saw him, lips stretched wide, makeup running down his face, panting as he tries to catch his breath and avoid all the hugs and head locks from the older prey members. 

He looks happy. 

You glance over your shoulder and see Minho accept a water bottle from Changbin’s outstretched hand, his brow furrowed in a glare toward Jeongin. 

You saunter over to the predators, and arch a brow at Minho and Seonghwa, both of them now greedily gulping down their water, chests still heaving. 

“What happened?” 

Minho lowers the water bottle and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, his dark eyes flashing as he growls out, “The fucking kid happened, that’s what.” 

Seonghwa tosses his now empty bottle into the back of the nearest car with a little more force than necessary. 

“Yeah, goddammit. He played us.” 

Your lips quirk upward into the hint of a smirk. “Wow. Almost like this is a game or something.” 

Minho fixes his glare on you now. 

“Careful, sweetheart, I’ve got a lot of adrenaline and anger that needs an outlet.” 

Chan is watching you warily from behind the duo of alphas, his eyes flicking to your own. 

Something strange washes across his expression, and then he ducks his head, moving to say something low to Yeosang beside him. 

You pull your gaze back to Minho’s once more as Hongjoong slings an arm around Seonghwa’s waist and grins widely. 

“Sorry, boys. Looks like prey bested us tonight fair and square.” 

Seonghwa grumbles something under his breath and Hongjoong chuckles, Minho still looking slightly murderous, the dark eyeliner lining his lids doing nothing to make him look less dangerous. 

San heaves a sigh from beside the older alpha, rolling his eyes. 

“God, we’re never gonna hear the end of this. Seonghwa-hyung’s a terribly sore loser.” 

Seonghwa turns his glower to the beta, who readily puts his hands up in defeat and saunters away to find Wooyoung. 

“Ah, princess, don’t be like that.” Hongjoong teases, reaching up to wipe a smudge of mud off of Seonghwha’s cheek, the taller man’s pink glitter face paint all but gone. When their gazes meet heatedly, Hongjoong cocks his head and offers the other alpha a sweetly sickening smirk. “Don’t ruin the fun just because the little freshman beat you and Minho’s asses at your own game.” 

Seonghwa mutters something that looks like a curse beneath his breath, and Hongjoong grins, leaning up to whisper something in his ear in return that has the other man blushing beneath what remains of his makeup. 

You turn to Minho, who is still watching Jeongin celebrate with the other members of your group, slowly crushing the now empty water bottle with a crackle into nothing but a lump in his fist. 

You sling an arm around his shoulders and press a kiss to the glistening arch of his cheekbone. He gives you a glare, but it holds less bite than you’re used to, and you bite back a smile. 

“How’d he do it then?” 

Minho eyes you warily and you offer him a shrug. 

“Promise I won’t tell the others. Your little embarrassing secret is safe with me.” You glance across to Jeongin, held up on Jisung’s shoulders above the crowd. “Can’t promise the same for him though.” 

Minho grumbles something under his breath that you don’t quite catch, his expression sour, and then he sighs. 

You try not to laugh at his obvious dejection, the whiskers Jisung had painted across his cheeks before you all left slowly leaking black paint down his chin and throat, a physical manifestation of his obvious displeasure. 

He glances up at the rain falling from the sky, blinking slowly as it pelts his face, his hair plastered to his forehead, and then he says in defeat, “The fucking kid double crossed us.” He shifts his gaze to Jeongin, climbing into the back seat between Jisung and Hyunjin, and narrows his eyes, his lips thinning. “He had Hwa convinced he had him, and he had me convinced I had him, and then-” 

You bite back a grin, but it’s harder this time. 

“Neither of you had him.” 

Minho blows out a harsh breath and scrubs at his eyes with the backs of his hands while he lets out a frustrated growl. 

“Fucking kid.” 

You smile and loop your arm around his waist, heading toward the nearest car. 

“Sorry for your loss?” 

Minho narrows his gaze on you, his eyes flashing. 

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re really torn up about it.” 

You laugh and glance up to see Chan watching the two of you, before he hurriedly slides in behind the steering wheel of his waiting car, already running and filling up with pack members. 

Wooyoung stands up, leaning through the sunroof of Hongjoong’s jeep as he cups his hands around his mouth and yells out impatiently at the rest of you still not in vehicles yet, “C’mon, mutts, load up! We’ve got a Halloween party to crash!” 

You roll your eyes, because it’s their Halloween party, and it won’t start until you get there, but you hide a smile anyway, folding your teeth between your lips, and follow Minho into the dark back seat of Chan’s waiting car, sudden excitement pulling at your stomach. 

You swipe your tongue across your bottom lip, tasting the salt of sweat and the cakey texture of makeup, washed there by the downpour outside, and feel your heart speed up in the walls of your chest as Chan pulls the car onto the road, headlights sweeping the dark, following the others. 

The night, and all the fun, was only just beginning. 

*****

“This movie blows.” Jongho complains, as he tosses another handful of popcorn into his mouth and Jisung shoots the omega a withering look from his seat on the opposite end of the couch, legs tangled up with Hyunjin’s. 

“No one said you had to watch it.” 

“Cool.” Jongho immediately replies, heaving himself up and brushing through the shroud of Halloween decorations hanging over the living room entry, disappearing down the hallway to his room. 

A scream filters from the TV, and Felix whimpers, burying close into Minho’s side. 

You untangle yourself from Yeosang and Mingi, shoving their legs and the blanket off your lap, ignoring the groans and protests as you get up from the couch and the current bloodbath happening on the screen of the TV as you stretch your arms above your head and yawn. 

“Perfect time for a pee break and some more alcohol.” You remark, as Yeosang tosses you his empty cup. 

“Get me something too.” 

You stare him down, and he finally rolls his eyes, already curling up against Mingi beneath the blanket and batting his lids sweetly in your direction to try to appear cute. 

“Please.” He adds, and you almost resist the urge to flip him off. Almost. 

You head into the kitchen, empty cups in hand, and as you head for the table full of selections of various alcohol, you’re not surprised to see Chan and Changbin leaning against the counter in the dark kitchen, beers dangling from their fingers, as Chan shows something to the other alpha on his brightly lit phone. 

Hongjoong sits up on the counter beside them, leaning over Changbin’s shoulder to see, interest apparent in his large, dark eyes, reflected by the phone’s light. 

You set the empty cups down on the table, careful not to set off the creepy witch in the middle that cackles if you trigger her motion sensor, and lean back, watching the three of them in the dim green light from the glowsticks hung around the low ceiling of the room. 

You’re not sure if they know you’re there, but then Chan glances up from his phone and his eyes connect with yours, and he clears his throat. 

Somewhere from the living room, a girl’s scream shrieks through the air. 

You cock an eyebrow at the trio, running your fingers absently along the silky spider webs spread across the backs of the chairs as you watch them. 

You’d give it to him, Seonghwa sure as hell knew how to throw a party. 

You’re still staring, and Chan is still studiously avoiding your gaze. 

You note briefly the dark, smudged makeup ringing his eyes, making them look more golden than before, and it sets something off in your stomach, quivering and anticipatory. 

You hide a grin and tap your finger along the table, hidden behind a cheap brightly orange table cloth covered in spiders and ghosts. 

“Why am I not surprised that the three of you are here?” 

Changbin grins, teeth white in the dark, and arches a brow at you, the skeleton mask painted on his face, smeared from the rain, stretching with the expression. 

“It’s Halloween. What better time to hang out in dark kitchen corners and skulk around and scare the locals?” 

He leaps toward you suddenly with a mighty roar, hands outstretched into claws, but when you don’t jump, staring him down, he stops short and you scoff, rolling your eyes. 

“I’m not a local, and you’re not very scary, Seo Changbin.” 

He shrugs easily and steps around you, reaching for another beer. 

“Worth a shot.” 

He slides up against you, closer than needed, perusing the alcohol, and smoke is strong in your nose, as he turns his head slightly and lets his nose bump into your jaw, his voice barely a whisper as he suggests cheekily, “I mean, I know some other things we could be doing. If you’re not up for scaring.” 

You let your chin tilt toward him, your lips meeting his nose in a quick little peck, your own voice low in response. 

“And what if I told you I like to be scared?” 

His dark eyes meet your own, sudden intrigue flashing there, before his gaze drops down your face to your lips, only centimeters from his own. 

“That can be arranged.” 

You feel eyes on the two of you, and you glance over to see Chan watching the interaction, his breaths slightly faster than before, his lips parted hungrily. 

He looks away as soon as you meet his gaze. 

Hongjoong hops down from the counter and stretches his arms over his head, easily catching the beer Changbin tosses his way. 

“I gotta go check on Hwa.” He grins, uncapping the beer and taking a swig, already headed for the ghostly curtain separating the kitchen from the living room. “Help him set up for games or some shit.” 

“Yeah, sure.” Changbin calls out after the other alpha tauntingly, and Hongjoong wiggles his eyebrows at him suggestively, before flipping him off and disappearing under the curtain. 

You glance to Chan once more after the other alpha’s departure, and he’s fiddling with his phone, turning it over and over in his hands, and Changbin is cracking open his beer, leaning up against the table beside you as if he doesn’t feel the sexual tension in the stifling air of the small kitchen, thick enough to cut with a knife. 

Or maybe it’s just you. Could be you. 

Another scream echoes from the movie in the other room, and you swipe Changbin’s beer out of his hand as he lifts it to take a gulp. 

“Hey!” He protests, reaching for the alcohol, but you hold it out of his grasp and stare him down. 

“I want to play a game.” 

He glares and takes a menacing step toward you. “I don’t.” 

You dodge around his advance easily and set the open bottle on the table as he turns to face you once more, open exasperation on his face, dark hair falling over his brow, flecked with white specks of paint. 

“I promise it will be fun.” 

You can feel Chan watching the two of you, feeling it out, but he remains silent, and you don’t look at him. 

Changbin heaves a sigh and you offer him a pleading grin, arching your brow. 

He sighs again and folds his arms over his chest. “Is that a promise you can keep?” 

You nod. “Yes.” 

He narrows his eyes and takes another step toward you, and you don’t back up, your ass already hitting the table as it is. 

He takes your chin between his fingers, and lowers his mouth dangerously close to your own, hot breath washing over your lips with every word. 

“And if you can’t?” 

A pleasant shiver runs down your spine, and heat curls between your thighs. 

You hold his gaze, unwavering. 

“Then you can punish me.” 

His brow lifts a hint in interest. “By scaring you?” 

You shrug, trying to act casual, as warmth pools in your gut. 

“Sure. If you want.” 

“Oh, baby girl, trust me.” His voice is a low growl in his throat, and you feel dangerously close to the edge like this, hovering, just in front of something you can’t quite see. He grins wickedly, and flicks his thumb across your bottom lip, making you gasp. “There is nothing I want more.” 

He studies you for another moment, fingers digging into your jaw, and then he breathes out a long controlled sigh, releasing you and stepping back with effort. 

You blink a few times, trying to clear the smoke from your senses and the rapid pulse from between your legs. 

You hear Chan swallow thickly, and suddenly, you’re pulled back to the present. 

Changbin’s arms go back over his chest. 

“All right. What’s the game?” 

You glance past the looming alpha to Chan, still leaning against the counter, and you note the way his formerly relaxed stance is now stiff, his knuckles turning white where he holds the lip of the formica, as if keeping himself steady, or stopping himself from running, you’re not quite sure. 

But he’s still here, and he hasn’t run away yet. 

You lick your lips and glance back to Changbin, raising a finger in Chan’s direction. 

“Him.” 

Confusion etches Changbin’s brow, and you hear Chan take in a sharp breath, but he doesn’t move, watching the two of you, frozen. 

“What?” 

You hold Changbin’s gaze, not wavering, as you repeat, “Him.” 

Changbin glances to Chan and then back to you slowly, still somewhat unsure of what’s really going on. 

You take a step in his direction. 

“You want him, right?” You ask quietly, and Changbin’s dark eyes widen a hair, his lips gaping. 

He stays rooted in place, watching as you take another step, narrowing the space between the two of you. 

You look up at him. 

“You’ve always wanted him.” You repeat, softer this time, and you glance to Chan, who’s warily watching the interaction, but his eyes are wide, as if he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing.

You turn back to Changbin. 

“But you never let yourself have him. Because he’s your best friend. And some things aren’t worth fucking up.” 

You let your fingers trail out, down the strong curve of Changbin’s arm, and you hear him suck in a breath. 

Heat starts to gather once more in your center. 

It’s an answer, even if he didn’t say the words. 

You slide your fingers up the warm skin of his arms, across his throat, into his hair, and his eyes flutter shut momentarily at the feel of your hands tangling in his dark curls, tugging his head back slightly, as you fit yourself into him. 

“But he wants you too, you know.” You whisper, and Changbin’s eyes flash open, pupils dark and impossibly large, staring down at you as his throat bobs in an uncertain swallow. 

Smoke burns your throat and eyes, but you ignore it, tracing a thumb across the plush warm rise of his bottom lip, admiring the pink skin. 

“He’s always wanted you.” You breathe out, and you drop your hand, staring up at him. “He wants you like this-” 

You lean up and cover his mouth with yours, diving into him, your tongue slipping between his waiting lips and your teeth meeting his, tasting him, savoring him, as he groans into your open mouth. 

Your hand fists into the back of his sweatshirt, still slightly damp from the earlier game outside in the rain, and you tug him back from you, giving you enough space to breathe, as you murmur huskily, voice thick with sudden need, “And he wants you like this-” You let your hand slip down the minimal space between the two of you, and you feel him in your palm through the material of his sweats, rock hard and ready. 

He moans, leaning his forehead into yours, panting with his mouth open and his eyes closed. 

You slide your fist around him, wet heat licking up your thighs at the feel of the friction, and he bucks into your hand, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. 

“Fuck, baby-” He chokes out through gritted teeth, and you stop, stilling your hand on him, letting him catch his breath. 

You can’t end the game too quickly. Where’s the fun in that?

You feel his heartbeat against your own, and you cock your head, looking up at him as he finally opens his eyes and stares down at you, bleary and a little out of focus. 

“He said as much, you know. In the woods earlier.” 

Changbin glances to Chan over your shoulder, the other man frozen still against the counter, eyes locked on the two of you, and lets out a shaky sigh, his fingers resting on your hips, digging into the skin there. 

“What did he say?” Changbin asks huskily, his eyes still locked on the other alpha beside the fridge. 

You smile slightly and fix your gaze on Chan as well, his pupils large and dark, his throat bobbing as he swallows thickly. 

You can smell how badly he wants it in the air, you both can. 

“He asked me if I liked it.” You reply simply, trailing your finger up the column of Changbin’s throat, watching the way he tenses beneath your touch. “When you fucked me.” 

Changbin turns his gaze back to you, fiery golden tendrils snaking into his irises now. 

“And what did you say?” He all but growls, holding you still, nails digging into your hips, biting, marking the skin. 

At your silence, he tugs you to him roughly, threading fingers through your hair and forcing your head back, teeth sharp as he snarls warningly. 

“What. Did. You. Say.” 

You smile, sweetly, and tilt your head away from his, gazing at Chan again. 

“I dunno, what did I say, Channie?” 

Changbin growls,a low and dangerous rumble in his chest, but he doesn’t speak again, waiting to hear what the other alpha has to say. 

Chan’s tongue darts out to wet his lips, and then he replies back, voice steady and confident, “Yes. She said yes.” 

Changbin’s fingers relax just a bit on your hips, but his body stays tense against yours. 

“Yes what?” You taunt sweetly, splaying your hands, palms down, across Changbin’s warm, tight chest as you cock your head and continue to stare down Chan. 

Chan swallows, his throat bobbing, and you can see how hard he is from here, straining against his jeans. 

“Yes, she likes it when you fuck her.” 

Changbin growls again, deep in his throat, and dives into your mouth, licking, biting, tasting, his tongue swallowing you whole, hot and slick and sweet, making you shudder against him, whimpering as heat trickles between your thighs. 

He pulls back and grabs your chin in his fingers, golden eyes pinning you down. 

“Good girl.” 

You stare at him, not looking away, but when you speak, it’s to Chan. 

“What else did I say? In the woods.” 

There is a beat of silence, and then his voice, low and heated, “You said I could have that. Have you both. If I only said the word.” 

Changbin’s eyes flicker past you to the other man, and you don’t miss the alpha rear its head, hungry and suddenly interested. 

Your fingers dig into Changbin’s upper arms, steadying yourself. You lean your forehead into his chest, breathing in and out slowly a few times, listening to his thundering heartbeat, settling yourself, but you don’t glance back. 

“And?” You question firmly, throat suddenly dry. 

Changbin’s muscles tense beneath your hold, but he makes no move toward Chan. 

There is the scuff of a shoe on the floor, and the scent of rain crashes over you, closer than before, clearing out the smoke and the frost and washing away anything else. 

Chan’s voice is barely above a whisper, caught in his throat, hoarse and husky, but with more confidence than you’ve ever heard from him before, when he replies softly, “Word.” 

Everything inside of your brain goes quiet, and you turn then, your breath calm, your heartbeat steady, your motions sure, as you catch sight of him, hovering just beside the table, almost within reach.

He’s close enough, that if you wanted, you could reach out and touch him, feel the warmth of his skin beneath your fingers, but you hold back, because it’s not you who needs to touch him first, at least not right now. 

Changbin is a looming, solid presence at your back, his chest brushing you with every heavy inhale and exhale he takes, his muscles still tightly wound, as if he’s waiting for something to drop, to break, to shatter at your feet in a million unfixable pieces. 

But it doesn’t, the moment remaining quiet, intact, and you’re all still standing here, no one running. Not yet. 

Smoke begins to curl back in around the rain and you reach for his hand, tugging him in front of you. He goes without struggle, seemingly on autopilot, his eyes still locked with Chan’s across the distance. 

You lean into him, your chin on his shoulder, your body molded to the warmth of his back, and watch the two best friends stare each other down in silence, tension thickening the air. 

“You should touch him.” You murmur in Changbin’s ear, and he shivers as your breath washes over his throat, breaking the trance a bit. 

You let your lips brush across his scent gland when you talk next, feeling the hot rush of his skin beneath your mouth as you form your words, motioning with a jut of your chin toward Chan. 

“Look at him. He wants you to. He’s so fucking hard it practically hurts.” 

Changbin’s gaze roams down Chan’s body, slow and open and hungry, and the other alpha takes in a shaking breath where he stands, but he still doesn’t move. 

He’s letting Changbin come to him. 

You admire his resilience. 

Your teeth graze along the curve of Changbin’s jaw, your hands palming the strong lines of his abdomen beneath his hoodie.

“C’mon, baby.” You whisper with a kiss against his throat, your fingers stilling on the waist of his sweats, teasing him, egging him on. “Touch him or I will.” 

“Oh my god.” Chan groans out beneath his breath at your words, his knuckles going white on the back of the chair he’s using to steady himself, his lips parted as he openly pants, squeezing his eyes closed. 

Changbin growls at the quiet threat in your tone, but it’s the push he needs, because in one lunge he closes the distance between the two of you and Chan and grabs the other alpha by the chin, yanking him into him as he covers his mouth with his. 

Chan’s groan is instantly swallowed up by Changbin’s mouth as he devours him whole, desperate and ravenous and out of control like a starving man tasting food for the first time.

You watch, the heat mounting between your legs, resisting the urge to rub your thighs together to take off the edge, and you bite back a whimper, because god, they’re perfect together. 

Where Changbin had started out rough and ready and violent, like a storm coming in off the sea, Chan had matched him step for step, holding pace, coming in like a strong, steady undercurrent, keeping them on course, right where they needed to be. 

His fingers splay out along Changbin’s jaw as the other alpha backs him into the counter, and their lips pop apart as Chan slides his free hand down between them, under the waistband of Changbin’s sweats, fisting him. 

Changbin sucks in a breath, his forehead meeting Chan’s, his eyes going impossibly dark. 

“I’ve wanted this for so long.” He gasps out, a trickle of sweat dripping down his temple, smearing a streak into the makeup on one side of his face. 

Chan grins, giving an experimental stroke, and huffs a breathless laugh when Changbin bares his teeth around a groan and bucks into him. 

“Yeah, me too.” He admits quietly, small grin still in place, eyes fond. 

Another swipe of his hand, and Changbin snarls, crashing their lips back together once more. 

You’re itching out of your skin, and the wetness now soaking through your jeans has nothing to do with the dampness leftover from the earlier rain. 

Seonghwa’s gonna kill you for fucking in his kitchen. 

You’re backing toward the door quietly, thinking that maybe you’ll rope Jisung or Minho into helping you out with your current little ‘problem’, leaving the two guys alone to enjoy their shit, when you bump into a kitchen chair. 

Changbin pulls away from Chan at the noise, and you freeze, staring at the two of them, lit by nothing but the orange Christmas lights Seonghwa has strung all over the cabinets. 

They’re both breathing hard, exhales ragged, and Chan leans his forehead into Changbin’s as he pulls his hand reluctantly from the front of the other man’s pants. 

Changbin doesn’t look at you, his heated gaze focused solely on Chan, as he commands quietly, warningly, “Don’t move.” 

He finally releases the other alpha and steps in your direction, eyes dark and swirling, expression unreadable. 

His fingers slide along your chin and he holds you in a firm, strong grip, keeping you from turning away. 

When he speaks again, his tone is dark, velvet, and dangerous. 

“Are you ready for your punishment?” 

Your eyes widen slightly and your heart thunders in your chest. 

“But-the game was fun, wasn’t it?” 

He chuckles, but it’s not amused, it’s wicked and hints at things to come, his fingers stroking strongly along your jawline as he leans in, lips close to yours, eyes glinting like minted coins. 

“Oh, baby, but I want to scare you.” 

Your throat goes dry, and you stare at him, not moving a muscle. Your heart is about to beat through your chest, you resist the urge to choke on the smoke as you inhale, quick and short. 

Chan appears at Changbin’s side, his own eyes molten, and he gives you a knowing smirk, eyes trailing down your body languidly, before Changbin is taking your wrist and pulling you hurriedly from the kitchen. 

They flank you, tugging you through the living room where the other members of the packs still watch terrible, cheesy horror movies, and Changbin doesn’t even pause, calling over his shoulder as you struggle halfheartedly against his hold, “(Y/N) forgot something at her dorm. We’ll be back in a couple minutes.” No one tries to stop you. 

They usher you out into the hall, and you finally manage to pull your wrist from Changbin’s grip with a glare, only to immediately be swooped up and thrown over Chan’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes. 

“Hey!” You protest, slightly out of breath, as you wiggle to free yourself once more, but Chan carries you like you weigh nothing, putting no effort into holding you captive as they head for the elevator and Changbin presses the button to the lower floor. 

“What the fuck?” You swear and hit Chan’s back with your fists, kicking your legs, and Changbin turns to face you, staring you down as you struggle, his lips quirked into the start of an amused smirk. 

You want to wipe it right off his stupid face. 

He leans back against the wall of the elevator, arms crossed over his chest. 

“Now you’re gonna play our game.” 

The elevator dings at the arrival of the bottom floor of the alpha dorm and Changbin steps out of the elevator, Chan following him as he steps off the main lobby and into the convention room, dark and unused at this hour. 

Chan sets you back down on your feet and you huff an annoyed breath, straightening your clothes as you glower at both of them. 

“Again. What the fuck?” 

“Here’s the deal-” Changbin cages you against the wall, ignoring your outrage, leaning into your space as his nose skims your jaw. He takes a long inhale of your scent, and you force yourself to not shiver at the contact. “-you get a five minute head start.” 

He pulls back, one palm still on the wall against your head, and cocks a brow at you. “Following so far?” 

You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest defensively, but finally nod begrudgingly. 

He smirks, and reaches up to push some hair back from your forehead. 

“Good girl.” He glances over his shoulder at Chan, who is watching the two of you, eyes gleaming in the dark, a hungry look all over his face. 

He turns back to you and thumbs across your bottom lip.

“You get the bottom floor. That’s it. Once five minutes is up, we’re coming to find you, so you’d better hope you hid pretty fucking well, baby.” 

Your muscles tremble, and your heart leaps into your throat in nervous excitement as you hold his gaze, tipping your chin up confidently. 

“What happens if you find me?” You ask, not because you particularly care, but because you want to hear him say the answer. 

Changbin chuckles darkly, sharp teeth flashing, and tips your chin up to him once more. 

“We get to do whatever we want with you.” He glances over his shoulder at Chan, who has drifted closer, and cocks his head. “What do you say, Channie? Winner gets to set the price, and the loser pays it?” 

The other alpha nods, smirking slightly. 

“Sounds good to me.” 

You scoff and he looks back to you in slight amusement. 

“And what if you don’t find me?” You ask, just to be contrary and stubborn, because you have no doubt they will. 

Changbin looks just as confident as you think he should as he leans into your space and nips across your throat, sending your pulse skittering in your chest. 

“Oh, trust me, baby, we’ll find you. There’s no scenario where we don’t.” 

You swallow, and he grins, dropping his voice, breath hot against your ear. 

“I’m going to fucking terrify you.” 

You swallow again, thicker this time, and Changbin steps back, giving you space. You rub at your arms, suddenly chilled and pimpled with goosebumps after the loss of his body heat, and he motions with his chin toward the door. 

“Five minute head start. Are you ready?” He arches a brow, lips curved as he throws an arm around Chan’s shoulders, both of them staring you down. “And use your time wisely, because I’m not a patient man, baby, and I won’t wait any longer than that.” 

You nod and push off the wall, and Changbin grins dangerously-all sharp teeth and shadows and alpha predator. 

“Good. Go.” 

You dart out of the room and disappear into the dark hallways of the bottom floor of the dorm.

You get as far as you can as fast as you can, and then you let yourself think strategy. 

Your heart is pounding in your ears, your breaths loud in the dark silence as you slide around another countless corner and sprint into an unfamiliar office space. The door isn’t locked, so you take that as a good sign, sliding between the desk and the cabinet in the corner, into the dark alcove created behind the curtain that hangs over the small window. 

How long has it been? Definitely five minutes. They’ll be coming. 

You crouch down, making yourself as small as possible, and curl into the pitch black corner, focusing on slowing your breathing-in through your nose, out through your mouth-and remaining as still as possible. 

They’ll hear any sort of movement, and you can’t risk giving away your position. 

The scent blockers you all had applied earlier in the night, before the first game of hide and seek, still seem to be working fairly well, even with all the sweat and rain, and you’ll just have to hope that it’s enough to keep them from following your scent trail directly to your hiding spot. 

Your heart is slowing against your ribs, and your breathing is quieting, when you hear the creak of a footstep outside the door to the office. 

You immediately freeze, not even daring to breathe, listening for any hint as to where they might be. 

The makeup from the evening’s earlier festivities is dripping, stinging your eyes, but you don’t move to wipe it away. 

Another soft, slow footstep, and you hold your breath, putting your hand over your mouth.

Suddenly, someone swipes aside the curtain and crouches in front of your hiding place, and you yelp, biting off the sound before it can fully leave your lips. 

It’s dark, but you make out the flash of Chan’s teeth as he smiles, the scent of petrichor washing over you as he leans toward you, arms resting on his knees. 

“Found you.” 

You let your hand drop from your mouth, and take in a deep, quivering breath, every muscle on high alert, your heart threatening to pound right out of your chest. 

Chan cocks his head, watching you with amusement, like a predator finally cornering its prey but planning to play with it first. 

“I could keep you a secret you know.” He muses in a low murmur, voice barely above a whisper. “Keep you all to myself.” 

Your heart is thundering in your ears. 

He grins again. 

“But where’s the fun in that?” 

A larger, darker shadow of a figure appears behind him then, and Chan tilts his head back to look up at Changbin. 

“How’d you manage that so fast?” Changbin grumbles under his breath, clearly put out, and Chan chuckles, shrugging in the dark. 

Chan stands, pushing himself to his feet, and they both lean forward at the same time to pull you from your hiding spot, and even though you squirm as far back into the tight space as you can manage, they extract you easily, kicking and swearing. 

Changbin tugs you out into the small office space, hands firmly around your upper arms, easily keeping a grip on you as Chan comes to stand in front of you both. 

“Easy, baby.” Changbin’s low voice sounds in your ear, amused and lilting, sending warmth between your legs. “We’re just gonna have a little fun.” 

You glare at him over your shoulder, sweating and baring your teeth as you spit out, keeping up the game, “Fuck you.” 

Not really though. Fuck me please.

Changbin chuckles, dark and low, and glances past you to Chan. “You’re the winner. What’s your price?” 

Chan holds his gaze, his throat bobs with a swallow, and then his eyes drift to you, down your body, to the way Changbin’s fingers clutch into the skin of your arms. 

“I want to watch.” 

You still, staring  at the other alpha, and you feel Changbin suck in a breath from behind you, rapid and uneven. 

But it’s very clear what Chan’s referring to, as he slides behind you without another word and takes Changbin’s fingers off your skin, pushing him around in front of you as he settles in at your back. 

His hand reaches around, fingers lightly resting at the base of your throat, and he pulls you back flush into him, keeping you locked against his chest with the hand beneath your jaw. 

He breathes out slowly, the warmth tickling your ear, and you can feel his heart pounding beneath your skull. 

Changbin cocks a brow, staring him down, almost challenging, and then he slowly drops to his knees at your feet, still holding the other alpha’s gaze. 

All the air in your lungs disappears. 

“You’re sure?” He questions his best friend, giving him one last chance to change his mind, as his fingers follow the length of your legs upward, finding purchase on the skin of your hips beneath the hoodie you wear. 

You bite your bottom lip, but remain still. 

You feel Chan nod against you, his fingers tightening slightly in their hold on your throat. 

“Yes.” 

The breathless, sure tone of his answer has instant heat pooling between your thighs, and you whine slightly, as Changbin chuckles and moves to undo the closure on your pants. 

“Okay.” He simply says, smirking slightly, as he slips the clothing from your legs, the cold air immediately prickling your skin. He glances up at Chan once more, smirk widening wickedly. “Cover her mouth then.” 

Chan slides his hand up your throat, his touch across your scent gland making you whimper, and firmly covers your mouth with his palm, fingers digging into the hollows of your cheeks. 

You can feel the increase in his breathing against your back, his obvious excitement pressing into you from behind, as Changbin grins one last time and sinks between your legs. 

When he touches you, you feel lightheaded, dizzy, and everything inside collides as you squirm helplessly in Chan’s grip, any sound that wants to break past your lips muffled by his hand. 

Chan leans back against the desk behind the two of you, supporting your weight, as you give in to the pleasure and start to sink in his arms. 

He’s breathing rapidly, eyes never leaving Changbin, and his reaction to what’s happening is maybe even more of a turn on than the actual act itself. 

He wants you. Both of you. 

When Changbin finally rises from between your legs, letting you come down from the high, swiping his mouth with the back of his hand as you both pant and gasp and try to catch your breath, Chan finally slackens his gaze on your mouth, letting his hand drop back down to the base of your throat, fingers lying limply against the sticky skin there. 

“Oh my god.” He breathes out, and you can feel how hard he is just by pressing back against his body. 

“Binnie.” You rasp out, voice hoarse from disuse, and the other alpha meets your gaze, lips still shiny and slick, dark eyes swirling. You let your head fall back against Chan, sliding your now free hands down the line of his body as he shivers beneath your touch. “Do him next.” 

Changbin leans forward, pinching your chin between his fingers, and there’s slight amusement in his eyes, even as his expression darkens. “Why do I have to do all the work around here?” His gaze flickers down to your mouth. “Why don’t you do him next?” 

“Why, you wanna watch?” You quip back, having gained your attitude back along with your breath. 

He arches a brow in challenge, leaning in close to growl, “Fuck yeah I do.” 

“Guys-” Chan pleads, squirming behind you in obvious discomfort, as you hold each other in a stare down, neither of you moving an inch. 

“How about-” You start, lowering your voice, smoothing it out, more a purr and less a growl. You flick his fingers from your chin, just to be defiant, and his eyes flash. “-he gets my mouth, and you get his hand then?” 

Chan groans from behind you, but you don’t take your eyes off Changbin. 

Your own eyes flick down his body line, to the obvious strain on his sweats, and your lips curve into the start of a smirk. 

“Because you obviously need it just as badly as he does.” 

Changbin’s lips pull up into a snarl. “Or how about-” 

He leans in once more, sliding his hand around Chan’s where it still rests at the base of your throat, and you can’t stop the slight gasp from slipping past your lips as he flexes his fingers, tightening their joined grip slightly. 

“-we do that, and then we both get to finish inside?” 

You stop breathing, staring at him, and he looks triumphant, knowing he’s won. His gaze flickers over your shoulder to Chan. 

“I know he’s got a kink for that. Why not indulge the fantasy?” 

Chan groans again, and this time it’s more exasperated than turned on. 

“Fuck, can we not bring that up right now-” 

“Shut up, baby.” You clip over your shoulder sweetly, eyes still fixed on Changbin. You can’t deny it, his words have you quivering, and you can feel renewed wetness starting to coat the inside of your thighs. 

He leans into your space, nose trailing over your jaw, lips slipping across your skin, leaving hot saliva in their wake. 

His voice is no more than a murmur as he says, “I told you I was going to fucking terrify you, baby girl.” 

His fingers flex on your throat once more as he pulls back smugly, and you can’t wait any longer. 

You need them now. 

“Fine.” You acquiesce, putting on a show of irritation, but everything inside of you is suddenly hot and fluttering with anticipation. “Both of you get on the table. Now.” 

Changbin’s eyebrows raise in amusement at your commanding tone, but he does as you ask, sliding up onto the desk beside Chan as the other man releases you and follows suit.

You turn to face them both, eyes trailing down their lean, muscled bodies, the bulges in their pants, and your mouth waters. 

You smirk dangerously as you take a step toward them. 

“We played your game but now it’s my turn. Finders keepers, losers weeper and all that shit. Now, be good boys for alpha and take off your pants.” 

*******

You settle down on the couch next to Yeosang and hand him his refilled glass of box wine, eyes already trained on the TV and the new movie they’ve started, some slasher horror film that looks way too cheesy to actually be scary. 

He gives you a sidelong glance and takes a sip as you spread the blanket over your lap. 

“Took you long enough.” 

You don’t bother looking at him as you snuggle into his warmth beneath the blanket, sipping on your own drink. 

The smell of sea and sand fills your nose, relaxing your muscles. 

“I couldn’t find the wine.” 

“Mmmhm.” He hums disbelievingly, and his fingers come up to tug down the collar of your hoodie, his eyes perusing the skin of your neck. “Sure.” 

You swat his hand away, but he smirks with open amusement at the sight of the dark hickies littering your throat before he says, “Did the hickies help you look faster?” 

You stick your tongue out at him and move to face him, trying not to jostle Mingi, who is asleep on your other side. 

“Shut up.” 

“No.” He quips back with a sniff, taking another gulp of his wine pettily as he inspects his nails. 

He lets out a sharp oof as San leans into his other side, chin going down hard on his shoulder as he stares at you. 

“Did you need both hyungs to help you find the wine too?” 

Of course he was eavesdropping. 

He grins triumphantly as you glare at him, but your gaze unwittingly flickers past him to the other couch, where Changbin and Chan had settled, already looking at something-probably music-once more on Chan’s dimly lit phone. 

Chan glances up at the feel of your eyes on them, and he tilts his head, watching you curiously, before his lips curve into the hint of a grin. 

You feel yourself flush and look away. 

“Hey, tell Seonghwa I did him a favor, okay?” You protest, turning your attention back to San and Yeosang, who lift their brows in response. 

“Oh? And that was?” San queries, devious light flashing in his dark eyes. 

You sniff and turn back to the TV, taking another gulp from your glass. 

“We didn’t fuck in his kitchen.” 

“Oh yuck. You’re disgusting. Get off me.” Yeosang gags in disgust and shoves you away from his side with an offended glower, even as San cackles delightedly beside him. 

San’s still giggling to himself as he turns back to cuddle up against Wooyoung and Jisung, and Yeosang just heaves a heavy sigh, like he’s a disappointed mother finding out her kid tried weed for the first time. 

You cross your arms over your chest and try to pay attention to the movie, but your gaze drifts once more over San’s head, to the best friends curled up on the far couch together, Changbin’s arm looped loosely around Chan’s shoulders as he leans in to look at the phone, and warmth stirs in your stomach as you bite back a smile. 

‘Two pretty best friends in a room-’

‘They might kiss-’

They already did. 

********************************************************************************

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[viking-goat-420]

Fandom: black Butler

Pairing: Sebastian Michaelis/reader

Summery: Sebastian was your mate but he hurt you so you left. Now you work at the manor tending to the animals. Now Sebastian wants you.

A/N: I know I said it would be a bit before I pOsted but I got bored at the hospital I'm working on a Logan fic now. As always requests are open

  You groan as you lift the hay for the horses. Ceil took you in and you have been tending to the horses and other animals he owned. You were a neko but you hid it well. Sebastian and you were mates but for a long time now you had been avoiding him. Now that things have slowed down you knew it was just a matter of time before he cornered you and you would have no choice but to deal with the problem. 

"So how long do you plan on avoiding me?" Your body tenses when you hear his voice but shake it off. The sound of his voice makes your heart speed up and he grins when he hears it. You turn and look at him before giving the horse more hay. 

"Not avoiding you Sebastian I have been busy" you say lying through your teeth and you both knew it, he sighs and steps closer. 

"I grow tired of these games (y/n)" he says from right behind you and you jump and spin to face him. Sebastian pins you to the barn wall and you struggle against him and he groans and you still. 

"Let me go, Sebastian!" You snap, looking up at him and he smirks down at you. His knee shoved in-between your legs and he pushed up and you gasped and bite your lip to hold back a moan. 

"I can remember a time when you loved my hands on you" he smirks, you roll your eyes and look away but his hand around your throat makes you look up at him. 

"That's in the past Sebastian! Now let me go! I'm not yours anymore!" You snarl that night flooding to your mind like a raging river, and all those feelings come back. His eyes narrow and his hold becomes painful tight as his demonic oura becomes so much stronger. You feel your body respond and he makes a purring sound. 

"This mark makes you mine, now and until the end of time" he growls, his eyes flashing and your body starts to tingle. You lock eyes with him and snarl. 

"Oh? I'm yours? That's not what you said the last time I saw you" you snarl your eyes flashing blue as your temper flears and your claws get longer. He leans down, his eyes locked with yours, his lips so close. 

"You can't just show up and think things would be okay between us" you snarl, his thumb rubs the mark on your neck that was glawing a light purple color and you couldn't hold back the moan that slipped out. You bite your lip and growl as he chuckles before he leans down and kisses you roughly and deeply and you bite his lip hard and you both groan at the taste of his blood. Sebastians lips travel to your ear and he nips the lob, his voice low and dark. 

"I can smell how wet you are for me, stop fighting and just give in" he growls his tounge traces your mate mark and you cry out your hips grind down on his knee. 

"Oh looks like you're being summed" you smirk up at him knowing he didn't get what he wanted yet. He lets you go and takes a step back. 

"This conversation is not over" he says before heading into the maner. Once you are sure he is gone you take a deep breath and lean against the wall. You bite your lip as you feel your body still buzzing and you knew that you were soaked and he knew it too. 

--------- Later------

After you calm down you finish with the animals and head inside and to your room. After a hot soak in the tub you feel more relaxed as you tie the robe and start to brush your hair when you freeze when you feel a solid body mold to your back. 

"Even after all this time you still use lavender in your water" he says softly, his nose in your neck as he takes in your scent. You bite your lip and close your eyes as his hand runs up your body to around your throat. 

"Sebastian-" you start only for his hold around your throat to tighten, cutting off your words and you feel his breath in your ear.

"Just give in y

our mine. Your very being cry's out for me" he says lowly in your ear and you bite your lip. You sigh and set the brush down and your hand goes to his on your throat and his hold losenes and you turn to face him. 

"If I give in you better make it up to me" you say your hand running up his arm as you lean up and lightly kiss him before pulling away. Sebastian growls and kisses you deeply and you moan your hands tangling in his hair as he lifts you up making your legs wrap around him as he sits you on the table as he undoes the robe. You moan as he kisses down your neck to your mark. 

"By the time I am through you won't be leaving that bed" he growls into your neck and you bite your lip. You tug his hair pulling his head away from your neck and you kiss him deeply ripping open his shirt your nails drag down his chest and he hisses. 

You undo his pants and grab his hard cock. You moan when he sucks on your tongue as his hands roam your body before he picks you up and lays you on the bed and you look up at his glowing eyes. He leans down and kisses you deeply, his lips travel to your neck and he follows the path down. He kisses and bites your hip bone and reaches your thigh. 

"Sebastian" you whine as his breath hits your dripping center and he chuckles. Your head falls back and your back arches as he suddenly laps at your cunt like a starving man. You cry out your fingers tangled and tug in his hair as you thrust up into his mouth and he growls before holding you down on the bed. 

"Hold still or I will tie you down" he says hotly against your skin and you bite your lip trying to keep still like he wanted. 

"Please Sebastian" you moan, feeling the bubble close to pooping. You were so close but right before you reached your peak he pulled away. 

"Oh no you still have to be punished" he grins darkly as he makes his way up your body. You whine at the loss of his mouth and the orgasm now disappearing. Sebastian chuckles before his lips leave a searing path up your body to your breasts where he stops to suck and bite at them, leaving a little bit of pain with pleasure. You cry out as his mouth latches onto your mate Mark and you cling to him. 

"Please Sebastian! I need you so badly" you cry out your eyes burning a bright purple like the mark on your neck. You hear him chuckle as he pulls away from you but keeps you caged under him. 

"Begging for me already? My you must be desperate" he smirked as he ran a finger through your folds filling how drenched you were for him. You whine before you lean up and kiss him deeply moaning at your own taste on his lips. Your fingers rake through his raven black hair as you bite his lip making his growl and his touch becoming rougher. 

"Punish me later but right now I want My Demon" you say breathless against his lips and he snarls his hold borderline painful. He kisses you deeply as he pushes into your tight heat. Your nails dig into his back as he pounds into you making you cry out for him. Without warning he pulls out and flips you over on your hands and knees before pushing back in. 

"Yes, that's it! Let everyone hear who you belong to" he snarls as he pounds into form the back the force of his thrusts slammed the bed against the wall. His fingers tangled in your hair as he pulled your head back showing off your throat as you push back making him snarl and slap your ass hard. 

"Fuck! Sebastian let me touch you" you cry out your nails dig into the wood headboard. He uses his hold on your hair to pull you flush against him. The hand that was in your hair moved to your throat with a tight grip. 

"Mmmm you smell so ripe" he growls lowly in your ear and you shivered at his words. Normally demons couldn't have babies but mates is a deferent story. You whine and push back only for his hold to tighten around your throat. 

"Sebastian please I need to touch you" you beg your voice no louder than a whisper but you heard you loud and clear. He pulls out and flips you on your back and you look up into his eyes. He leans down and kisses you deeply as he renter's you and you cling to him your nails leaving bloody marks down his back. 

"I'm going to fill you full till your overflowing in my cum and pregnant" he growls in your ear as his hips snap hard and deep inside you making you cry out. 

"Yes! Oh yes! Do it! Fill me full" you cry out clinging to him as you reach your peak and cum hard clenching him tightly making him snarl. He groans and stills as he leans down kissing you deeply as he fills you full making you moan. You kiss him back and stroke his face softly. Sebastian rolls off of you and you roll laying your head on his chest as he strokes your arm, his touch softened than before. 

"Don't get too comfortable you still have to be punished" he chuckles as he moves you and your numb imbs to where your hands were over your head and then the cold steel of chains. You whine and tug weakly as you look up at him with a pout and he grins bringing his face close to yours. 

"We couldn't cuddle first?" You ask with a grin on your lips your body fully ready for him. He leans down and kisses you deeply and you moan as he bites your lip. 

"I do believe I promised you would not be leaving this bed" he says his hands running down your body before you are flipped on your hands and knees with your arms crossing in front of you and your ass was in the air. 

"Now count" he grins his hand landing on your ass hard making you cry out.  You knew tonight was gonna be a long one. 

[littlegrrl7]

I was born with a broken heart.

It jumps feebly in my chest as I evaluate my next move. My half sister, Vasilisa, was always destined to be a queen. With her gleaming golden hair and summer-sky blue eyes, it’s no surprise she attracted the czar’s attention. She’s the only one in my life I would drop everything for, and now I’m up to my knees in trouble, trying to rescue her. Because gods know she won’t rescue her damned self. 

Shoving a soaked, bedraggled lock of dark hair out of my eyes, I stare bleakly into the pouring rain. Mud sucks at my boots, pulling like corpse hands in this vile weather. I stumble as the wet earth claims my boot, and my foot tugs free. Rough stones scrape my palms. Blood mixes with the thick muck, and I bite back a swear that would make any mother blush. Spitting, I try to clear the bitter taste from my mouth.

My weak heart flutters. Damn this illness. Out of habit, I reach into my pouch and put some herbs in my mouth to chew, hoping the irregular beat will ease. This isn’t one of my better days. 

The view of the distant mountains I was heading toward blended with the dark storm, and night fell too quickly to find shelter. Rumor has it Koschei makes his home in those rocky peaks. That villainous wizard took Vasilisa—stole her right from under her oafish husband’s nose—leaving me to find her in this foul weather. She’s the czarina. As a witch, I’m the most likely to track her successfully. 

Why the old codger steals a woman every few years is beyond me, but it’s been going on forever. Some man, usually a husband or lover, slays the wizard and rescues the woman, and a few years later, Koschei is alive and at his mischief again. As ancient as he must be, his twig and berries are probably as shriveled and dry as he is. 

Lightning cracks above as I unsuccessfully attempt to locate my sacrificed boot. A low growl hums in my ears, and at least three sets of glowing red eyes float into view through the sheets of rain. No no no… not now. Soaked woolen skirts tangle around my legs as I try to stand.

The largest of the wolves prowls forward, its daggerlike teeth shining white in the next lightning strike. “Little witch as skinny as a fledgling bird, you’ll barely make a snack.” His low growl ripples along my skin. Eyes like chips of ruby stare me down. Ominously, the thunder rumbles again as the rain eases.

I scramble backward. “Then let me pass. We have no quarrel with each other. I’m certainly not worth your time or effort. As bony as I am, I’d likely just get stuck in your teeth.”

“My quarrel is with all of your ilk.” The beast crowds me. His hot breath pierces my soaked clothing as his snarled muzzle grinds against my chest. 

Fast and shallow, my heart continues its irregular beat. My breaths feel cold and useless, and the edges of my vision tunnel. The wolf sets one massive paw on my thigh, sinking me deeper into the muck.

I turn away from his fetid musk. “Please, leave me be.”

“Things are not always as they appear. I smell the power on you, little witch. I’ll relish it as I crunch your bones and suck out the marrow.”

I thrust one hand into the earth. Come, dormant seeds. My other hand presses flat against the beast’s chest to hold it back. Maybe I can entangle him enough to buy myself time to run. The wolf’s eyes widen into bloody pools as the thick, thorny vines swell from the ground to wrap around his massive body. His snarls turn into screams as the swordlike thorns slice through his flesh.

I clamber to my feet and run blindly into the darkness. A howl rips through the night behind me, echoed by two more. Claws tear across my back before twisting thorns shoot past me, and a wolf yelps in pain.

My heart flutters then stops before speeding up in uneven jerks. A thick, cold lump settles in my throat. I’m not sure where to run. Blindly, I push past low-hanging branches and stumble over the uneven rocky turf. This is madness. I’m in no shape to outrun wolves. A sharp pain stabs my chest, traveling up my shoulder and into my neck. Gasping, I go another couple of steps. At a few muttered words, green vines weave in a wall behind me, sprouting thorns that drip a poisonous ichor. It has to be enough to stop them—I have nothing left. Thickness fills my lungs, and breathing becomes impossible. I lurch into a smooth tree.

No, it’s a door. A lightning strike reveals a highly polished wooden door decorated with an intricate brass design. I pound on it, and thunder mimics the noise. There’s got to be…

My heart squeezes and stutters, bringing stinging tears to my eyes. I can’t fail here. This isn’t where my quest ends. My knees hit the cobbled entryway as I pound on the solid wood again. In the distance, wolf song mixes with the roll of thunder. Sobs fall from my lips, and a sucking darkness pulls on me. I knock again, but I’m too weak to make much noise.

“What is the meaning of this?”

The door flies open, spilling me forward to where a tall, slim man stands. There’s something incredibly familiar about him. His long white hair hangs in a thick braid over one shoulder, and his skin is ghostly pale against the darkness. Brilliant-green eyes widen as he looks down upon me then beyond my crumpled form into the night.

“I claim the right of sanctuary in exchange for a witch’s boon.” I reach out and grasp his hand. “Do you accept my bargain?” Blood roars in my ears as stars dance across my blackening vision.

His sharp features pinch as he scowls at me in surprise. I must be delirious, because it’s the most devastatingly handsome expression I’ve ever seen on a man. Sculpted cheekbones frame expressive eyes and a pointed, smooth-shaven jaw. My heart skips then flutters again. I reach for my herb pouch, but it tumbles from my numb fingers. His eyes dart to the spilled herbs then back to me.

“I accept. Sanctuary given.” His hand closes over mine. A shimmer of emerald flashes, limning us as my magic seals the pact. Before I can thank him, the darkness of death closes its icy fingers around me, and my sickly heart stops. One last wry thought follows me to my doom. Well, that was the shortest bargain ever struck.

Read the rest of Inessa's tale in This Hollow Heart

Illustration commissioned from @madbrake

[bullet-prooflove]

Past Mistakes Part 5: Choices - Mike Duarte x Reader

Tagging: @nessamc​   @xmoonknightlyx​   @jayblackpanther​   @crazy4chickennuggets​   @annetje​   @mysoulisasunflower​    @littleone65   @thesandbeneathmytoes​    @storiesofsvu​   

Part One: Try  

Part Two: Hope (NSFW)

Part Three: California

Part Four: Favours

McGrath’s office was larger than Mike expected however he could still see the echoes from his tenure as Deputy Chief of the Bronx Gang Unit. The walls were painted navy blue, the hue making the room feel more enclosed, suffocating. The commendations were framed, the stark white certificates practically shining against the paintwork. The American flag sticking out from beside the mahogany bookshelf. Each and every single one of the books was a leather bound classic he had never read. The desk was large and ostentatious, neat, and orderly unlike his own. Everything seemed to have a place, and nothing deviated from it. Mike fought the urge to pick up the stapler, he knew how McGrath hated others touching his things.

The other man was standing by the window, his hands clasped behind his back as he stared through the blinds at something on the street below.

“It’s been a while.” McGrath said, inclining his head towards Mike

“Over two years since you were promoted and moved to Manhattan.” Mike responded, tucking his hands deep into his pockets. “Shall we get this over with?”

“You wanna tell me what this is all about?” McGrath asked before returning to his seat. The chair was tall backed and made of brown leather. It was built like a throne and when McGrath sat in it, he clasped the arms of it like a monarch overseeing his territory.

“Three years ago, you wanted me to confess, to tell the truth about what really happened when I was under.” Mike reminded him.

“And you didn’t.” McGrath recounted stiffly. “What you did almost cost me my career.”

Mike leaned forward, his hands coming to rest on the surface of the desk. “I am willing to give you what you want, I will talk to IAB, I am willing to go to jail if that is what it takes but you need to let her go.”

McGrath tipped his head back and laughed. It was a harsh sound, it grated across Mike’s nerves causing him to grind his teeth as McGrath rose to his feet.

“Do you think you’re that important?” The left side of his mouth tipped up into a smirk as he shook his head. “That this is all about you?”

“Why don’t you tell me?” Mike said quietly, his dark eyes boring into McGrath’s. “What this is all about?”

McGrath stared back.

“She made the choice…” he began.

A choice…

You’d had no choice. He knew McGrath well enough to know how the options would have been presented to you, the way he would have twisted those words. He’d had you between a rock and a hard place and you’d picked the only way out you could live with. It infuriated him because he should have known, he should have had some sort of grasp on the situation, but he’d been ruined after that last stint undercover, too self-absorbed to see what was happening right in front of his eyes. At the time he thought he deserved the punishment, that you’d finally seen him for who he was in the aftermath of the assignment. He thought that was why you’d left, and it had sent him careening off the deep end.

“What other choice did she have?” Mike snarled, jabbing his finger at McGrath. “Turn on me, the man she loved or end up dead or brutalised by the First Nationals.”

“Love?” McGrath snapped with indignation. “You think she loved you? A Lieutenant in the Bronx Gang Unit, what did you even have to offer her? A ride in your vintage mustang?” Mike felt the muscle in his jaw twitch, a low growl escaped his throat, it was everything he could do not to wipe that smug fucking look off of McGrath’s face. “She was fucking me, a Deputy Chief, a man who was going places. She took the assignment because I asked her too, because she wanted to please me.”

Fury tore through him like a concussive wave, threatening to destroy everything in its wake. His fist clenched, the skin over his knuckles turning white, his muscles taunt as the rage simmered underneath the surface of his skin.

“You’re lying.” He said, his voice raw with emotion.

“She tasted like cherries.” McGrath’s forefinger glided across his lower lip as if in memory. “She smelt like Dior perfume. And she felt like a fucking dream.”

Each word was like a gunshot to Mike’s heart, because every single one of them was true. It was like the other man had jammed a Colt 45 between his ribs and pulled the trigger. It was agony, it was anguish, and it was grief exploding through him like an IED. He could see a glimmer of the truth now, that crucial piece of information he had been missing.

“When I told her to drop you, she did it so fast it was pitiful.” McGrath’s smile twisted cruelly across his face. “You were like a fucking dog, pining for her. It was pathetic.”

“You’re right.” Mike said quietly. “This was never about me.”

He could see it clearly now, how it had all played out. When he’d come back from those few weeks undercover, he had been a mess, too blinded by his own demons to see what was going on with you. He remembered the way you looked that night, when he’d come home to find you in his apartment, you’d let yourself in with the key he had given you. Your skin was pink from too much hot water. Your eyes were red rimmed and bloodshot. Allergies you had told him at the time. When he curled up with you that night your scent had been different, instead of the fruity shower cream you used, you smelt like his soap despite the fact you complained it dried out your skin. You were wearing his clothes, his sweats from the academy and one of his V-neck t-shirts. He’d found your dress in the trash a few days later, he thought the chiffon must have torn when you’d caught it on something.

“This was about punishing her because she didn’t choose you.” Mike said as he fixed McGrath with a scathing stare. “I remember that you don’t like being told no, and you certainly don’t like other people touching your things. Even when they don’t actually belong to you. That’s what happened isn’t it, Tommy? She said no.”

There was silence between them. Two wolves, locked in a battle of wills, each one vying for the prize. McGrath was the first to look away.

“You’re disgusting.” Mike spat as he turned his back on the other man.

“Don’t ruin your career for her Mike, she isn’t worth it.” McGrath warned him as his hand enclosed on the door handle. Mike twisted his head, his eyes burning with ire as a savage smile crossed his features.

“The both of us wouldn’t be here if that were true.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[infectedkura]

“One more time MacTavish … What. The. Fuck. Is your problem?” Ghost’s voice was low but as sharp as the blade he had always with him. The blade that Soap had seen in his hands so many times as he had slit open their enemies throats. He would be lying to himself if he hadn’t thought about how hot that sometimes looked, when he was watching Ghost through his scope.

Soap tried to say something but his mouth and throat were completely dried out. Only after a pitiful cough could he at least string some words out.

“What the hell is your problem? I told you I’m fine like 10 times” he snapped back with a raspy voice. He hadn’t planned on it sounding so angry but his feelings were a mess and the anger for himself was slowly boiling over to Ghost.

“You don’t look like it” was Ghost’s surprisingly calm yet determined answer. 

“And you’re avoiding me” he continued a bit quieter, moving even closer and squinting his eyes at Soap.

“Hasn’t bothered you before, that people avoid you, has it?”

For just a split second Soap swore he had seen honest surprise and even pain in Ghost’s eyes. Soap mentally slapped himself for the comment immediately but it was too late. That had been a low blow and Ghost’s grinding teeth made him realize it didn’t leave the usually so cold lieutenant unaffected.

“Careful Sergeant” Ghost growled, cementing his hand even deeper into Soap’s arm, that was starting to hurt.

As much anger had piled inside Soap he preferred it over owning the now familiar warm pain in his chest that once again started swelling inside him again. Anger was better than that. Hate was better. Was easier to work with. Easier for others to understand. And hopefully easier for Ghost to reciprocate. Soap knew he had reached a dead end and like a wild animal he wouldn’t let his hunter get him unscathed. An eye for an eye.

“Of what? Don’t think I’m in the wrong here. Just because you’re my superior doesn’t mean I gotta share my bloody diary with you” he snarled as he tried to wiggle his arm free but the friction of Ghost’s gloved hand on his naked skin made his anger get ravished by the creeping hotness even faster. Ghost didn’t move except for his hand that put more pressure on Soap's arm again only to let loose for a second and then repeat the process. Soap was expecting an answer. Wanted one. Wanted for Ghost to just get angry at him. Chew him out for his disobedience and leave. But Ghost stayed. Towering silently over him when suddenly Soap felt the other gloved hand on his hip, pressing into his skin to keep him still, the only thing separating them, the fabric of his thin shirt. Soap’s breath hitched. His head involuntarily fell forward, leaving him staring at their feet. He didn’t dare to move. Didn’t dare to say anything more. Too scared of his own voice or whatever sound would come out of his mouth now.

----

WIP Wednesday @onlycodcanjudgeme

This fic is fucking torturing me ... I rewrote the vibe of this scene like 4 times and it should’ve been done last saturday but yeah ... might take a bit longer UwU

[kotias]

I have officially gotten rid of all my writing deadlines..... let's now start with this bad boy :D

“Will you SHUT UP already?!” Wolverine hissed between gritted teeth, launching at the other and pressing him into the backseat in a loud thud.

The immortal brat might have his mask still, but even so, his smirk was perfectly perceptible as he answered. “Make me.”

“It’ll be my pleasure,” he spat out, wrapping his fingers around the man’s chin, a low growl collecting in his throat.

“You don’t scare me, man. Wolverine?” Deadpool scoffed. “Sad excuse of a hero, you said. Do you really think someone like you could do anything to someone like me?”

His blood was boiling; Logan’s hand curled into a fist under the other’s mouth, and the growl in his throat became a snarl, which became a bark; with it came the loud hissing of his claws thrashing out, stabbing through Deadpool’s mouth and palate and coming out of the top of his head.

“WOW, that ‘u’in’ hur’s, man!” his opponent still managed to complain, which truly baffled him.

“... How dedicated to being a fucking nuisance can you be?!”

His claws retracted, leaving with the uncomfortable squelch of flesh being reformed behind them. “I was born a nuisance, baby,” Deadpool answered, with this exact tone that he seemed to perfectly know infuriated Wolverine.

Logan grabbed the end of the other’s mask and forced it up his face, pulling on it until it reached the bridge of his nose, and he pushed on it, keeping it firmly on Deadpool’s eyes. “Stop talking,” he ordered again; one hand resting on the other’s forehead, the other trying to force his jaw to stay closed. “Your voice is the most fucking annoying thing I was forced to put up with for a very long time.”

“Hey, at least I am first at something, right?” Deadpool still somehow was able to retort, and this voice, stupidly grinding on Logan’s nerves, finally broke him like the proverbial camel’s back.

He sneered and he snarled, but quicker than he realised, his lips had crashed on Deadpool’s, and he had forced this broken jaw down, pushing his tongue inside and gulping on the other man’s moans as they reached the back of his throat.

Fuck. This was unexpectedly glorious of a sensation; but most of all… most of it all, when he released him, Deadpool finally remained speechless, with his panting being the only sound coming out of his mouth.

the honda odyssey, huh?