#she has predator eyes lol

[transfusible]

ive never gotten into stardew valley but i just gotta vent bc the only npcs in stardew valley i wanna marry r unavailable

winning pam & jodi's approval is like 😍 & i wanna rescue pierre's mormon wife Caroline too. i would rescue sandy from the desert and personally hold an umbrella over her every day. I love so many of the unmarriable npcs. The bachelors/bachelorettes just don't pique my interest v much idk maybe i just want people who are unavailable lmao

[doiliedaze]

The Jewel of the Sea

Warnings: Sevika kidnaps reader, age gap (reader is 25 and Sevika is around her early 40s), reader is chaotic, enemies to lovers, mean Sev for a while, y’all threaten each other a lot and both have hit each other, Sevika kills someone, reader almost dies, another awkward fight scene, virgin reader, reader cums fast because that’s normal for a first time (so is taking a second), reader has blood on her when they have sex, praise, check-ups, reader gets eaten out, tribbing, I think that’s it LMAOOOO

Genre: fluff, angst, smut

A/N: im so excited for this fic and will be expanding on pirate Sevika!! They are so soft to me like I love them together!! Thank you all for your support I get so happy seeing you all and talking to you guys ʕ̡̢̡⌯͒•ɷ•⌯͒ʔ̢̡̢ this is long asf omg and I wasn’t gonna make it a series cause I can’t have another series rn lol

Translations- priya = darling, jaanu = my life

I researched that her name has Hindi, Sanskrit origins so I thought this would be a cute way to tie her culture in.

───────┈ · ·

Tonight is the night you’ve been raised for, tonight you become queen. The day was going as planned. Flowers here, knights there, it was almost out of a fairytale. You knew this was too good to be true. You’ve been known for your intuition, it’s why your parents put you before your older sister. Whom holds no resentment towards you only a sadness that you couldn’t pursue your own dreams.

Since you were little you’ve adored the ocean, often thinking in another life you were a mermaid. Admiring the idea of protecting the ocean and it’s creatures somewhat like how you saw your mother care for her people. To swim as free as your sister rode. To sing an enchanting song to defeat enemies as your father cut others with his words.

You often reminisce on the idea and in your opinion it helps you be a better princess. Your thoughts were interrupted as your seamstress finish the last lace detail on you coronation dress. You step off the box to admire yourself stuck in utter awe.

Time passes as you wait behind that humongous door, the door that’ll start the new chapter in your 25 years. The love your family expressed to you unmistakable. As soon as you were alone you felt odd? Almost on edge…

You kept your eyes peeled, and shrugged it off as nerves. The thing about intuition is, it’ll work for you if you work with it.

Ignoring the churn in your stomach you walk as you hear the cue of the violins. As soon as the door opens, chaos is afoot!

Your eyes can’t focus on anything as you look for your family whom are nowhere to be found! Panic is settling into you as you try to create a plan. You see a discarded sword and pick it up awkwardly clutching it, you were always better with archery.

Running through the crowd not sure how to help or what to do your eyes settle on her.

She’s looks like she’d tower over you and hunt you down. You notice her scars and her mechanical arm. Her light smirk and her piercing gaze. It’s like the confusion in the crowd didn’t matter because she was steadily stalking towards you. You’ve heard of her before, she’s known for what she does and how she gets away with it.

Prey in a predators radar is exactly what you were, but you had a choice to fight or flee. You choose to flee as it’ll be you advantage. You know this castle and it doesn’t matter how many times they could’ve mapped it out this is your home.

Clutching the sword you run through the doors and into the hallway. Your main focus is making it to your crawl space which will take you to the gardens. As soon as you got close enough, the knob a fingertip away a sturdy hand grabs your waist and pushes you to the floor. Your sword drops as you try to brace your fall. Not ready to give in despite the pain in your body, you kick at her.

She laughs, how dare she mock you?

To make sure you stay still so her crew could make a swift escape she knocks you out with a cloth.

In almost an instance you went from queen to be, to hostage.

In a haze you wake up in a strange room, it looks to be a office with a makeshift bedroom area? You grip the sheets as you sit up eyes taking in the decor. Treasure here and there, maps neatly tucked away. Slowly you get up feeling that you are without your corset. Heat runs to your face but you push that aside as you look for a weapon.

Gathering courage you go out into the deck looking for her. That brute that took you from your home! The sun was blinding as and the smell of the sea was consuming but you saw her.

You storm up to her despite the laughs from her crew that quite when you dawn the knife you found.

Her express has yet to change from that smug satisfaction.

“Take me home, I demand it!” You yell pointing the knife at her face.

“Careful princess you might hurt yourself.” She laughs, oh what you’d give to rip that laugh out of her throat.

Before you could protest further she grabs then squeezes your wrist disarming you. You squirm as she slings you over her shoulder and makes her way back to her room.

Softly she places you on the bed and closes the door. “You’ll be staying in my quarters.” She states as she gives you space.

“Take me home!”

“I know you aren’t deaf.” She snorts

“You must be dumb because I refuse to stay on this ship!” With that she gets in your face, “you’ll mind how you talk to me.”

Anger rising in you, you spit on her square in her face.

Keeping her composure she steps back and wipes her face.

“I understand this isn’t ideal but you’ll get use to it.”

“Wow an understanding pirate how lucky am I!” You say with an eye roll.

“I took you because of your looks but you’ll stay because of that mouth.”

Being as bull headed as you are, you get off the bed and walk up to her.

“I will be going home with your permission or not!” You keep your voice steady and clear.

Swiftly she pushes you up against the nearest wall. Her breath ghosting your neck. Her thick fingers playing with the lace on the bust of your dress. “Don’t push me princess, you aren’t the first pretty thing I’ve thrown overboard.”

Fear churning in your stomach you whimper softly, pulling a wolf like grin out of her.

“You like that pretty thing? Being threatened is that what gets ya goin’.” Softly she tugs on your dress revealing more of your plush breast.

Your chest heaves as no one has seen you like this. “You are a degenerate.” You state avoiding eye contact. “Sometimes” she states as she moves her flesh hand to pull a stray coil. You swat at her hand and she moves, “get some rest you’ll need it for tomorrow princess.”

Defeated and highly flustered you lay in the bed and give your mind to your dreams.

Your nights use to end with you going to sleep alone and you waking up alone until one night. Sevika was charting at her desk and you were reading on the bed. When she assumed you were getting sleepy she packed up to leave but you broke the silence. “Stay…please.”

She gave you an expression you couldn’t read but she obliged. She puts her things down and lays next to you. “Trouble sleeping?”

“Before this I’ve never slept on a ship before…it’s different.”

“It’s not that bad once you get used to it.” She awkwardly slide her fingers into yours. Obvious she hasn’t done this before. You put your pride to the side and nuzzle into her. “I had a bear…I can’t sleep without her so…” with that she just squeezes you close, embracing you. Being able to relax you inhale until you drift off to sleep.

The next months were a blur as you roam the ship endlessly. You were peering out at sea when you smell her behind you. That strong scent of wood burned into your senses.

“What’s occupying your mind priya?” Her rough hand softly touching your shoulder.

Priya…you still don’t know what it means but it’s nice to hear, better than a condescending princess or pretty thing.

Over these last few months you’ve learn to tolerate her. You two still argue like there’s no tomorrow but you grew to worry when she would stress and you’d help keep order. You saw how she’d grow to worry when you couldn’t sleep or if you’d stare off too long, wanting this to be a home for you how this has been a home to her crew.

“I want to go home.” You sigh leaning forward, gripping the ledge.

“You are home.” Sevika states coldly, “ I don’t understand why this isn’t enough for you?”

“Why being a hostage isn’t enough for me?”

“Hostages don’t get freedom or new clothes you choose to stay on the boat when we dock!”

“I refuse to be seen with you!” You shout turning to face her. The hurt in her eyes are evident but she pushes it down, “this is what I get for protecting a brat!”

“You aren’t protecting me at all! I told you I’m going home with or without you!”

“How would you suppose you’d get home princess?” She cocked her eyebrow and spoke with venom.

Irritated and wanting to prove your point you look around and it dawns on you, you are an amazing swimmer.

Without warning you hoist yourself over the ledge and fall into the ocean. The water was cool but not unbearable.

You sink down trying to gain cover with the bubbles of your submersion but it wouldn’t matter because Sevika jumped in after you.

Concerned more than angry she swims to you and with a rope and the help of the crew the two of you are retrieved!

“Are you out of your fucking mind y/n! Do you not understand how you could’ve hurt yourself pulling a stunt like that?” She shouts not giving you a chance to catch your breath. The crew was quite, it’s a big divide whenever you two argue, Ran typically getting in the middle of it.

“Why can’t you understand you took me from my home and I don’t feel safe with you!”

Angrily she grabs your face squeezing just enough to leave a sting. “So all the nights I hold you and talk to you doesn’t make you feel safe?” You claw at her biceps as you feel tears well in your eyes.

“That’s enough Sevika I think she understands she’s wrong.” Ran states stepping closer.

Sevika can feel her stomach churn because she made you cry. “There’s nothing to see here go back to your stations!” She yells as she pushes you into Ran then left to her quarters.

With that you walk away and go to your spot. You like to sit on the front of the ship with her right hand Ran. They are sweet to you surprisingly and keep you updated on your kingdom. You’ve been presumed dead and your family is devastated but they have to move on.

“I don’t understand why she keeps me here, I refuse to help.” You sniffle and wipe your face.

“You’re entertaining to her I suppose.” Ran says with a shrug, “I don’t question her anymore she wouldn’t give me a straight answer at least when it comes to you.”

“Why’d you guys raid my castle in the first place?” You turn to face them.

Ran’s shoulder tense slightly. “Not sure if I should tell you honestly.”

“You’re the only person I can talk to Ran please!” You grab their hand.

“We were raiding your kingdom because we heard of a King getting ready to kill his heir and we wanted to goods before the drama settled in.” They avoided your eyes feeling a slight shame.

Dread seeps into your heart as their words repeat in your head “ a King getting ready to kill his heir.”

“No I…he wouldn’t!” You stand abruptly, “he loves me!”

“He was raising you for slaughter! Who makes their second in line the monarch? Look I know this is hard but you ever wondered why your family never truly went looking for you? We’re a notorious group and-”

Without another word you were running to Sevika.

When you enter the bedroom you find her frustrated at the desk writing in her journal.

“How may I help you princess?” She mutters without even looking at you, “he was trying to kill me?” You whisper as your voice shakes.

Sevika looks up at you not sure how she wants to respond. She’s never been good with emotions whether it’s hers or someone else’s. Sevika had to grow up in a world where she was the only person who cared about her. That’s why it was so easy to make the seas her home.

Slowly she opened her arms to you and you run over to her lap. In disbelief you sob on her mechanical shoulder. “Why would he do that to me?” You ask in broken breaths.

Sevika could feel her heart in her throat unsure how to respond. When she was younger she imagined having friends and having to comfort them but she never got there with anyone besides Ran and Ran isn’t a crier. So she pulls you closer and lays her head on yours. “If you didnt take me…do you think that would’ve been the day?”

“Priya I don’t know much…but I do know you get headaches after you cry so stop crying please.” She whispers as she wipes your tears. You try to even your breathes but you can’t. So there you sit in your accidental saviors embrace.

Ever since that day you’ve been attached to her hip. This life isn’t what you’d imagined but it’s yours. You often think back and try to see what you missed but it’s no use.

“Sev, whats your favorite thing about being a pirate besides killing people?” You ask as you two walk around a market. You feel like a true swashbuckler with your floppy hat, flowy fabrics and the gun Sevika taught you how to use.

“Watching my crew enjoying themselves.” She bites into an apple then hands it to me, “you all deserve nice things and that’s better than bloodshed…I guess.”

“Big ole’ softy…” you nudge your shoulder into her as you bite the apple.

“Don’t get use to it.” She mutters and you were going to tease back till you saw an amulet.

“Jaanu look!” You point but she stops, “what did you call me?” Her voice unsteady. “Jaanu? Oh I…well you call me priya so I wanted to call you something sweet too…I don’t necessarily know what either means but I read it in one of your romance novels you like to hide.” You state this like it’s no big deal as you buy the golden amulet. Sevika can feel her face burning and her palms sweating. “Priya means darling and jaanu means my life.”

Stopping in the middle of a market is frowned upon as it slows the hustle and bustle of the environment but you could care less as you stare into her grey eyes. “Then here jaanu I want you to have this.”

You lean up on your tippy toes and clasp the amulet around her neck, “now you’ll always carry me with you.” With that you walk away to catch up with Ran but you look over your shoulder to see her lopsided smile.

You were too busy gushing to Ran about what happened that you weren’t watching your surroundings. You’re still getting use to being a pirate let alone an ex-royal. Technically people still want you dead so it was confusing when Ran tackles you!

Word got out about Sevika’s new lover and how she favors the beauty of a princess. There’s been more incidents at the docks lately but nothing this bold! Another crew mate covered you two as Ran and you prepared your guns.

Lost in the frenzy you got separated. You get a sense of deja-vú. A weapon in your hand you haven’t used on anyone before, fear churning in your stomach and your intuition screaming at you.

Sevika isn’t around to immediately safe you so you have to choose; fight or flight. You don’t need a repeat of what happened a year ago so you choose to gain cover and shoot.

Aim is sloppy but you hit enough people more to disarm them, not having the heart to kill anyone.

That’s when you feel a cold gun pressed to the back of your head. Panic is seeping into your body, what do you do in a situation like this? You aren’t savvy enough to fight them off.

You thought back to all the moments you made on the ship, how you just accepted this is your life. Now it’s getting taken away. You close your eyes thinking about how you wish to be in Sevika’s arms one more time, to tell her how you feel.

In an instance you hear a pop and you assume it was you but you feel a thick warm liquid flow down your shoulder. You look back and there she stood. Sevika always protecting you.

Quickly she rounded you and the crew up. “Are you hurt?” Sevika held your face, her grey eyes searching yours. Not wanting to waste another moment you kiss her.

You two fumble to your quarters, breathing heavily. She shakily takes your clothes off as she bites your neck. “Been wanting you for so long priya.”

“Take me then” you moan clawing at her clothes. Sevika pushes you down on the bed and pressed your things to your chest. Her thick tongue slowly licks and teases your cunt. “Jaanu please I want more” you mewl overwhelmed by the sensations.

“I’m going to take my time and you will listen. Now this might hurt for a second so breathe f’me.” She pushes one finger into you slowly and listens to your drawn out moan. “Feels good priya?”

“Fuck yes!” You moan as you bite your lip. Needing to do something with your hands you pull her hair. “Sevika more!”

“Can’t ever stop being a brat huh?” Always striving to make you happy she pushes another finger in. Her tongue wrapping around your clit, sucking harshly.

Broken moans is the only thing able to come from your throat as you cum into her mouth. “Are you okay, does anything hurt?”

“No, more please” you whine although this position is hurting your thighs.

Sevika gently placed her bare cunt against yours and rubs. The satisfaction of that small amount of friction got you wet. “Fuck you feel so good” she moans into your ear.

“You make me feel so good” you lick the outer shell of her pierced ear causing a shiver to go down her spine.

Your hips grind up against hers and you feel yourself already on edge so you both slow down. The drawn out strokes had you both twitching and moaning. The mixture of your juices staining the sheets when y’all came.

Sevika leans her forehead against yours and says, “promise to sail the seas with me forever?”

“I do.”

───────┈ · ·

A/n: this is the longest fic I ever wrote and bitch I don’t wanna do this shit again🥹 in all seriousness I wanted to push myself and I can see the moodboard already!! I hope you all enjoyed this and criticisms is welcomed!!

Taglist: @manfuckthisimout @bambishaven @femme-historian

Dividers- @dollywons

[claramelooo]

HEYYY! It's me again! I'm so happy with all the support words and the great proportion this story is taking that I got excited and I just want write more and more to you guys!! (I'm vacations btw lol)

First of all, I would like to say that I don't know much about the US admission system, so if I got it wrong, please correct me.

Second, if you have any suggestions to improve the story's progress or speed up my writing, feel free to contact me.

Last but not least: enjoy it and comment plsss <3

MINORS MUST NOT INTERACT

Paring: Mommy Dom Wanda x Brat Fem reader

WARNING: +18

Summary : Wanda wraps you in the web she has created.

Read here: Prologue | Part 1 – Predator | Part 3 - On your knees

Velvet Chains

The Prey

It was around 3 a.m., and Wanda sighed, staring at the ceiling of the bedroom. The silence was broken only by the lazy whirring of the fan. Vision lay asleep beside her, turned away, breathing deeply. The space between them on the bed felt like an unbridgeable chasm. She turned her head to look at him for a moment but felt a weight in her chest as she realized there was no warmth there, no real connection.

Sex with Vision had always been… functional, almost mechanical. It was always about him—his needs, his desires. There were moments when she tried to convince herself that this was normal, that love was above all a commitment, but nights like this made it clear: something was terribly wrong.

Wanda shut her eyes tightly, trying to push away the frustration building up inside her. It wasn’t just the sex. It was everything. The suffocating predictability, the lack of intensity, the absence of something she had never been able to name but missed with an almost painful ferocity.

And then there was you.

The memory of your face, the way you looked at her during dinner, came rushing back like a storm. Your eyes held a mix of defiance and uncertainty—something Wanda couldn’t get out of her mind. Since seeing you, there had been a growing need inside her, something primal and overwhelming. It wasn’t just desire—though that was undeniable. It was the way you made her feel, as if she were alive for the first time in years.

Wanda sat up in bed, running her hands through her hair, frustrated with herself. It was wrong. That much was obvious. You were young, inexperienced—a delicate soul who deserved freedom, not the weight of the obsession she felt growing inside her.

But the more she tried to rationalize, the more inevitable it seemed. There was something about you—your innocence mixed with a quiet resilience, as if the world couldn’t break you, no matter how hard it tried. It was hypnotic. She wanted to shape you, to dominate your strength and fragility all at once, to explore every nuance of you until there was nothing left to hide.

A shiver ran down her spine, and she pressed her fingers against her temples, trying to stifle the thoughts.

“This has to stop,” she murmured to herself. “This isn’t who I am.”

But the truth was, she wasn’t sure who she was anymore. With Vision, with the life she had built—it all felt so distant, so colorless. And then you appeared, and the entire world gained a new vibrancy, an intensity she hadn’t realized she craved until she felt it.

She looked at Vision again, still turned away, still oblivious to the storm raging beside him. For a moment, Wanda felt a wave of guilt, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. Because the reality was clear: she would never feel whole with Vision.

The clock read 3:23 a.m. when Wanda slipped out of bed, her bare feet meeting the cold floor. She needed space, needed to think, but she knew that every step she took was leading her deeper into dangerous territory—a path of no return.

Reaching the living room, she grabbed a bottle of whiskey—Vision only drank it to celebrate work promotions—and took a swig straight from the bottle, hoping to drown out the chaotic thoughts of you, of Vision, of herself.

But they didn’t go away.

As the alcohol coursed through her veins, Wanda felt her body float. And then, she felt ready to do something she had never done before. With trembling hands from adrenaline and excitement, Wanda picked up her laptop from the coffee table and searched for what had been on her mind since the moment she first laid eyes on you.

The video was artificial, the expressions of pleasure fake, the moans hollow. But the scene itself sparked Wanda’s imagination.

She pictured you moaning beneath her as she slid a good, thick strap inside your tight little pussy, pinning your arms above your head, leaving you completely at her mercy. She imagined slapping your pretty face until you gave in, sticking your tongue out to accommodate her fingers, letting her lubricate them before slowly sliding them into your tight little ass, driving you wild.

Denying you orgasms until you begged her with teary, pleading eyes. Pushing you until you finally said the one word you so desperately needed to say—and that she so desperately needed to hear.

Wanda also fantasized about riding your face, making you drown in her wet pussy, suffocating on her juices. Marking your neck and chest with bruises she would proudly touch the next day.

These thoughts alone were enough to make Wanda forget the adult film on her screen and focus entirely on you. Her fingers worked diligently over her clit, her body trembling as the signs of orgasm built within her. Moments later, she came, her eyes rolling back, her legs shaking.

Oh, fuck. She had to have you soon.

 [...]

The city library was a sanctuary of sacred silence, where whispered voices mingled with the soft rustle of turning pages. You had returned to the country with a single purpose: to study. Your mother never missed a chance to remind you that your bright future hinged on a prestigious university. But after everything, Yale felt like an unattainable dream.

Not anymore.

You still had a chance to transfer and adapt to a new routine—though adjusting had never been hard for you. You’d spent your 18th birthday alone, blowing out the candle on a strawberry cupcake someone had given you, wishing for the power to change your life.

And now, here it was.

Determined, you worked tirelessly to achieve an excellent GPA, nurtured relationships with your professors, and spent the remaining months meticulously preparing your early decision application.

Then came the waiting—waiting and waiting for that damn call. Time passed. You turned 20—too old for a Christian boarding school, too young to face the world—and found yourself staring out of the same window.

When your father finally called, his expressionless voice carried the weight of your shattered dreams.

And now, here you were, standing before an old building with beautiful architecture that probably held some intriguing history. With a pile of notebooks and a battered binder in hand, you pushed open the heavy doors and stepped into the library's main hall. The comforting scent of aged paper and polished wood enveloped you.

The plan was straightforward: find a corner, avoid distractions, and lose yourself in formulas, essays, and reading lists for the next few hours.

But fate, it seemed, had other ideas.

As soon as you entered, your eyes locked onto something—or rather, someone—that made your stomach churn. Behind the lending counter stood Wanda Maximoff.

She wore thin glasses that only accentuated the intensity of her piercing gaze. Her hair was tied back haphazardly, loose strands framing her face. When you walked in, she looked up, and a dangerous spark flashed in her eyes—something intense, hypnotic, and unnervingly expectant.

It was as though she’d known you were coming.

You felt the shift in the atmosphere before you could process it. Her eyes gleamed with satisfaction—dangerous, predatory.

"Oh, my, my… What a surprise," Wanda murmured, her voice low and sweet, yet carrying an underlying weight that twisted your stomach. She left her computer and moved toward you, hands clasped in front of her like she owned the place.

You cursed softly.

“And to what do I owe the pleasure, Dekta?” she asked, her accent curling around your name in a way that made your core tighten despite your best efforts.

“I’m here to study.”

“Ah, yes… Yale, isn’t it?” Her lips curved into something between a smirk and a sneer, making your fists clench at your sides. “Your parents mentioned it,” she mused. “I admire ambition—though ambition without focus is a waste, don’t you think?”

Your eyes narrowed. "I have focus."

She took another step closer, her presence suffocating. “Do you now?”

“I’m not a child, Wanda,” you snapped—perhaps a bit too loudly for a space that demanded quiet.

For a brief moment, her pupils expanded, eclipsing the green in her eyes. If you weren’t so innocent, you might have seen the excitement pooling in her gaze. But you felt it—the way your body betrayed you, heat pooling low in your belly, your nipples hardening beneath the thin fabric of your bra.

Her expression shifted, the intensity replaced by a false, sugary smile.

“Oh, of course, because you’re such a big girl now, aren’t you?” Wanda tilted her head, her tone deceptively kind but dripping with condescension. Her eyes seemed to dissect you, reading your every reaction like an open book.

“I’m an adult,” you retorted, forcing your voice to remain steady. “I don’t need anyone treating me like I’m still in a school uniform.”

Wanda’s steps were deliberate as she sidled past you, gesturing lazily to a nearby table. “An adult, you say? Funny, because what I see…” Her gaze swept over you and then to the table, “…is a little girl with big dreams, crumbling at the slightest challenge.”

Your entire body tensed. You loathed the way she spoke to you, as though she had the right to dissect your maturity.

“You don’t know me,” you shot back, defensive.

“Don’t I?” She raised an eyebrow, her smile slow and menacing. “Then why are you trembling, Dekta?”

You opened your mouth to deny it, but the words caught in your throat. She was right. Your hands, clutching the binder, were trembling slightly, your heart pounding too fast.

Wanda noticed. Of course, she noticed.

“See?” she whispered, stepping closer, her voice soothing yet laced with control as she reached out to brush a strand of hair from your face. “Adult or not, you still have a lot to learn.” Her words dropped to a murmur, almost too soft to hear: “And I’ll teach you everything.”

Before you could react, Wanda straightened, creating distance as she adjusted her glasses—a deliberate motion that left you inexplicably yearning for her touch again.

“Now, find your table and study. Show me this sharp ambition of yours.”

“You don’t control me,” you snapped, anger flaring briefly.

She chuckled, the sound devoid of warmth. “Oh, Dekta… I don’t have to. You’re already doing exactly what I want.”

With that, she turned and walked back to the counter, leaving you trembling and unsettled, as though you’d just lost a game you didn’t know you were playing.

After 40 minutes of calming down and trying to stop thinking about the woman, you finally manage to focus and regain control of your thoughts. Math had always been something very abstract to you, perhaps even more so than philosophy. There was something about numbers that seemed to elude the logic of your brain, as if every equation were a puzzle with its solution written in a language you couldn't quite comprehend.

You sigh, your eyes fixed on the book's page, where a series of elegantly aligned formulas stared back at you with an almost cruel indifference. It had always been this way. Essays were your forte—your words flowed like a river, structured and persuasive, but numbers? They slipped through your fingers like sand.

With the pencil in your hand, you begin to scribble what seemed to be the first step toward a solution, but your mind soon wavers. Math, with all its precision, left little room for intuition. Every mistake was exposed, every misstep impossible to hide. You had always hated that.

Suddenly, Wanda's presence invades your thoughts again, like a shadow you can't escape. The way she looked at you, as if she knew exactly where your weaknesses lay. Worse, as if she was willing to exploit them.

You shake your head, trying to banish her image, but it’s useless. It’s as if she were still there, standing behind you, watching, waiting for you to fail.

And maybe that was exactly what you needed.

"Okay," you whisper to yourself, turning the page of the notebook with more determination. "This isn't about her. This is about me."

Your strength had always been your ability to adapt and overcome challenges. No matter how impossible something seemed, you had an inner resilience that kept you trying. That was what made you special, even when everything seemed against you.

But that strength came at a price. You were stubborn, almost obsessive, and the idea of failing—for yourself, for your parents, for Wanda—was intolerable. That need to prove your worth, to be good enough, was both a gift and a curse.

Feeling a touch on your shoulder, you jump as if you’d been shocked. Looking at the hand that touched you, it belonged to an elderly woman with a friendly expression on her face.

"Looks like your study session was productive, right?" the lady asked in a voice trembling with age. You simply nodded, still confused by the sudden approach. "But I must inform you, dear. We’re closing now."

"Oh. Yes, of course… I’m sorry," you said as you stood, hastily packing your belongings. "I didn’t even notice the time." You offered an embarrassed explanation.

The lady just laughed, sweetly.

"It's all right! Wanda asked us not to disturb you," she said as if it were nothing, but for you… you felt your pulse quicken with your heartbeat, felt your heart warm at Wanda's indirect gesture.

You looked around, hoping Wanda would appear again to provoke you—to make you surrender to her dominant aura.

But with a click, the library lights turned off, leaving you alone with your confused thoughts.

Letting out a tired sigh, you enter your house. Today had been exhausting, but your mind was at peace from finally breaking out of your loop of procrastination and self-sabotage. It was draining, but it was gratifying—enough to make you proud of yourself.

Arriving in the living room, you see your mother smiling, which makes you raise an eyebrow at her unusual gesture. Noticing you, she stood up, laughing.

"Sweetheart! Come here!" she called, making grand gestures that filled the room.

As you reached the center of the living room, you saw her.

There she was. Wanda Maximoff, sitting in your living room as if she owned the place. Her posture was impeccable—relaxed, but not sloppy. Long legs crossed, her expression composed. She held a teacup in her left hand, her long fingers resting on the porcelain as if it were a luxury item.

Your heart raced. You froze in the doorway, looking from your mother to Wanda and back to your mother.

“Oh, sweetheart, finally!” your mother exclaimed, her voice full of enthusiasm. "I can hardly believe our luck. Wanda offered to help you with your studies! You know how much I worry about your preparation for Yale, and now she's willing to guide you!"

You opened your mouth to protest, but no words came out. Everything felt like a blur. Wanda? The woman who had just turned your afternoon into an emotional whirlwind? Now she was here, in your house, looking more dangerous than ever?

"I simply did what anyone would," Wanda replied, her voice soft but firm. The tone carried a duality: apparent humility, but a pride you could feel beneath the surface. She rose slowly, placing the teacup on the coffee table. Her gaze met yours, and you felt that same shiver from the library.

"Good evening, Dekta," she said with an intonation that made your skin tingle. “I hope you don’t mind my visit. Your mother and I were discussing how I might be helpful for your academic ambitions.”

“Of course,” you responded automatically, trying to keep your composure. “Thank you so much for your help, Wanda.”

Wanda smiled, a small, calculated smile. There was no genuine warmth in it, only something... satisfying. As if she were celebrating an invisible victory.

"In fact," she continued, taking a step closer to you, "I thought we could make this mutually beneficial. Your studies require dedication, and I noticed you have potential. In exchange for my guidance, perhaps you could help me a few hours a week at the library. There are tasks that require... youthful energy."

Your mother seemed more than thrilled with the idea. “Oh, that would be wonderful, wouldn’t it? You’d spend more time learning, in such an inspiring environment!”

You knew you had no choice. Your mother was already beaming, and any refusal would be a family disaster. But above that, there was Wanda, with that look that seemed to pierce your soul, as if she knew that deep down, you didn’t want to refuse either.

"Sure," you finally replied, trying to sound neutral. “That sounds great.”

Wanda took a small step back, satisfied. "Excellent. We’ll start tomorrow."

Your mother clapped her hands, excited. "I’m so proud of you, sweetheart! And so grateful, Wanda, for being willing to help my baby.”

Hearing your mother’s last words, Wanda’s body tensed, clearly disliking the way she referred to you.

Wanda looked at you again, placing a light smile on her face, but her eyes... they had an almost predatory gleam.

“It will be my pleasure,” she said, but you knew there was much more to that phrase than your mother could understand. "Well, it’s late, and I still need to put Tommy and Billy to bed. S/n, would you walk me to the door?"

Finally, you snapped out of your trance upon hearing your name. "O-of course."

As the older woman passed through the door, she turned to look at you again, her eyes gleaming. “You looked beautiful today, darling.”

The compliment made you blush, and the air felt thin, making it hard to breathe.

“Hmm, what do we say when we’re complimented, Dekta?” Wanda broke your trance once again, touching your chin in a firm grip, forcing you to look at her.

"Thank you, Wanda," you replied softly, in an almost submissive tone. Almost. The exhaustion of the day weighed on your shoulders, and Wanda’s sweet voice left you weak, hypnotizing you and slowly turning you into a needy kitten.

"Good girl." She caressed your face with her fingertips, almost as if you were a raw diamond—precious and ready to be shaped. By her. By her hands.

You hadn’t noticed—perhaps due to exhaustion—but Wanda's hands were trembling. The woman trembled as she touched you, as she felt the warmth emanating from your fragrant, untouched skin. Wanda felt blessed, as if finally that scared kitten was learning to trust her.

"We’ll see each other tomorrow, yes? Good night, beautiful girl." She didn’t want to say goodbye to you. She wanted to stay, make you kneel, rest your head on her lap, and stroke the top of your head to hear you purr.

The mark she left on you lingered until you fell asleep, embedding itself under your skin, making you dream of her, of her floral scent—it was something citrusy. Orange? Lemongrass, perhaps? The fragrance clung to your body, your mind, and suddenly, Yale seemed like a distant dream, and Wanda was the only thing you could dream about.

~*~

Poor S/n... A milf caught her.

Tag list <3

@rosekjsses @vyvvycg @3liyuh

If I forget someone, pls remind me in the comments!

[aurumalatus]

BRIGHELLA, THE HELLRAISER

pairing. kinich x fem!reader wc. 1.9k genre/warnings. harbinger!kinich, reader is tied up, generally unsettling lol, yan!kinich vibes summary. after a failed infiltration, you fall into the clutches of the tenth harbinger, brighella, otherwise known as kinich. unluckily for you, he's interested in you. author's note. this was supposed to be smaller but i couldn't stop. maybe i'll write a longer fic ab this in the future bc i'm kind of obsessed with the idea lol. reblogs/interaction highly appreciated!

The watchful moon hanging outside has become a familiar companion.

You can’t remember how many days you’ve sat here, wrists bound to your chair. The Snezhnayan winter does not come gentle, or so you have learned over the past few weeks—a deep chill has already set into your bones, and you fear that the frostbite has already crawled over your extremities. Outside, snow is piled waist-deep, threatening to swallow any passersby whole, never to return.

These winters kill, and so do their inhabitants.

With that in mind, you know better than to let your guard down in this land, especially with this man in front of you.

The Tenth Harbinger, Brighella. The Hellraiser.

There’s a chilling sort of beauty to him. His features are sharp and sculpted, with dark hair and thick lashes. His eyes seem to be the highlight, an exploding star of gold and green—it stands out against the white of his cloak.

You silently admit to yourself that he’s quite handsome.

“Lord Brighella, sir,” one of the agents greets quickly, stumbling through his words. The appearance of the man has a thread of fear running down your spine. He enters without so much as a ‘hello’, but each of his footsteps seems to increase the pressure in the room—you can feel the density gathering in your throat.

The skirmishers form a tight line against the wall, saluting to their superior. He doesn’t even spare them a glance as he passes.

“We found her sneaking around here, we were just about to bring her to your judgment—”

“Leave her to me,” the man interrupts, seemingly bored. The moon slips away from the window, leaving you in darkness—in this gloom, all you can see is the glittering gold of his eyes, cold. He flicks a wrist at his subordinates. “You’re dismissed.”

The skirmishers hesitate at the order, much to your surprise. If it were you in their shoes, the chilling aura of the man would have you fleeing without delay. One of them—the one with the Pyro vision—steps forward, bowing.

“My Lord, I would never doubt your strength, but do take caution. She was able to take down quite a few of our fellow soldiers before being apprehended.”

If he has any lingering irritation about his order being ignored, he doesn’t show it—instead, he circles you slowly, his cloak a whisper against the floor. Each languid step seems to leave a growing shadow in its wake, his presence haunting over your quivering shoulders.

“Don’t worry,” he soothes, though his words are absent of warmth. “If she raises a finger against me, I’ll kill her on the spot.”

It’s a thinly-veiled promise.

You swallow down the lump in your throat. He watches, a dim smile playing on the edges of his lips.

Sensing the unrest, his subordinates slowly filter out of the room, the door clicking shut with a tone of finality. You almost miss their presence—the air seems to flush out of the room with them, and you find yourself struggling to fill your lungs.

For a while, the Harbinger doesn’t speak. He merely circles you with an assessing eye. Each movement is nearly robotic, not betraying a single thought. You don’t dare risk any motion, fearing retaliation—with your hands bound, you wouldn’t stand a chance in a fight.

Something swirls in the darkness, something sinister and encroaching in the space—a predator in the shadows. The Harbinger notices your wandering stare, and, to your surprise, chuckles.

“Ajaw can get a bit antsy,” he explains, unnaturally calm. “Don’t mind him for right now.”

Grimly, you reassess your own strength. Even without your hands bound, you doubt that you would be able to stand against this man at all.

You gather your courage in your hands, holding it steadfast—even if you die here, you should not die quietly.

“Lord Brighella—”

“You can call me Kinich,” he cuts in, shrugging. His cloak brushes the floor, ghostly in its movements. “I have no care for those titles.”

He seems genuine, but you don’t chance at using his name, fearing a bluff. 

“Are you going to kill me?” you ask instead, voice tinny and thin.

The question seems to amuse him. 

Slowly, the man leans forward, until his eyes are level with yours. There’s something lurking in his irises, something dark and writhing. You note the uniqueness of his pupils, the draconic nature of them. They seem to pierce your very soul.

“Do you want me to kill you?” he asks. It’s not playful, or even mocking—he’s entirely serious, and that is scarier. 

His honesty forces your own. You break eye contact, humiliated by your own cowardice.

“...No,” you admit quietly, “please don’t kill me.”

The Hellraiser—no, Kinich—leans away from you, satisfied with your answer. Even the presence behind him seems placated, shrinking further into the dark.

“I like you,” he declares simply. “I like people who say what they mean.”

You don’t know what to make of the Harbinger’s supposed informality. It all feels like a trick, like a means to lower your defenses. But you’re smarter, you reason, so you keep your mouth firmly shut. Kinich tilts his head at your inaction.

“You don’t like me.”

The statement leaves you spluttering, taken aback. Though you don’t exactly hold him in good favor, you know better than to offend the Harbinger with your life in his hands. Luckily, he doesn’t seem upset by that fact—he shrugs, resigned.

“I’m a Harbinger. You don’t know anything about me, so of course you’re being cautious. I suspect you don’t like Fatui very much.”

That much would be an understatement, you think absently. But revealing more of yourself gives the Harbinger more to work with, so you merely nod. He hums in reply.

“I understand that. They keep me on quite a short leash,” he sighs, brushing dust from the thick fur lining his cloak. You wonder how the cloth remains such a pristine white, even when the wearer’s hands are so steeped in blood. “Things can get a bit…messy when Ajaw comes to play.”

He says it as easily as one recounts a grocery list, like it’s no big deal that he’s carrying a murderous beast within him. 

You know the rumors. On accident, you’d seen pictures of the last incident that The Hellraiser was involved in. The sight had you running to vomit, unable to stomach the gore and brutality of it all. They whisper that even the Harbinger himself cannot control the draconic beast past a certain point, resulting in his lowered rank.

The thought that the same man is standing in the room with you right now has the hair raising on the back of your neck.

If this monster—Ajaw—decides to kill you after all, you would be powerless against him. The thought has you wrestling with your mortality, facing a terror you’ve never truly felt in your life. You’d known the dangers when you walked into that Fatui stronghold, but you never imagined it would lead you into the jaws of the beast.

A cold sweat freezes over the back of your neck.

Kinich eyes you curiously, then glances out the window. The landscape is blanketed with freezing snow outside, resting in the solitude of night. You know the sight well, having become quite acquainted in your time locked up here. If asked, you could probably recreate the entire view from memory.

“It’s cold,” he states quietly. There’s a far away look in his eyes. “Not anything like Natlan.”

The admission leaves you surprised. You’d be lying if you said you knew that the Harbinger hailed from your own home country. Then again, not many people know anything about the Harbingers at all.

“Yeah,” you reply, tentative. “I hate it.”

Kinich outstretches a hand, fingers brushing over the frosted window. The ice flees at his touch, melting away from the contact, dripping down the glass. The movement pushes a bit of his cloak aside, revealing his clothes underneath—a Dendro vision hangs at his belt, alongside a Pyro delusion. The sight has you gasping quietly, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“I used to hate it too, at first,” he murmurs, absently tracing shapes in the window. “It’s always cold, and it’s so much worse in the winter. It’s so cold it feels like you could die.”

Each word is laced with nostalgia, memories of a time long past. You wonder what led him here, to the land of ice, what led him to abandon the nation of Pyro and its archon. He’s surprisingly calm, so much so that you ponder what led him to this life of bloodshed, of strife.

He draws more mindless swirls in the frost, his fingertips wet with condensation.

“But there’s purpose here, at least for me. So I endure the ice.” 

You’ve heard stories of the Tsaritsa’s enduring love, a powerful force that draws so many formidable characters to her side. For so many of them to join in extending her will, she must have some sort of unshakeable charisma to her.

Kinich’s gaze hardens, touch lifting away from the glass. “And, well, nothing feels worse than being unwanted and…discarded.”

His words drip with spite, with malice.

It feels entirely too personal—you wonder if he meant to be so vulnerable in front of you, or maybe he sees you as so beneath him that he doesn’t care. After all, dead men tell no tales. 

You fear that the latter is true when he suddenly turns back to you, striding forward. You flinch back into your seat, nowhere to run, even as he draws close. He doesn’t stop until he’s mere inches away from you, so close that his breath brushes your lips.

“So tell me,” he says, softly bracing one hand on the arm of your chair, “how would you like to join the Fatui?”

No thoughts come to mind initially—the proximity and the shock of the offer has your brain in a frenzy, unable to focus on anything in particular.

“What?” 

It’s all that you can manage in reply, a whisper.

Kinich tilts his head, regarding each feature of your face. His gaze seems to tear skin from bone, leaving you vulnerable and raw. Each movement of his eye is sharp, sweeping over you with a brush of heat.

“I find you interesting,” he remarks, honest. “So I’ll make you mine. You can work under me.”

Though you have limited knowledge of the inner workings of the Fatui, you find it hard to believe that the process to be inducted is so simple. After all, it had been your attempt to infiltrate their stronghold that had landed you here—there’s no way they would trust you to be one of their own.

“I…”

You hesitate, reeling, unable to find the words to say. The proposition seems so ridiculous that you can’t manage a genuine response. Kinich watches you through his lashes with a potent fascination, like you’re a caged animal.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” he soothes. You find yourself sinking into the deep velvet of his promise, a haunting spell. “Just be mine, and I’ll take care of it.”

Gently, his fingers brush against your chin, tilting your head up to face him more clearly. You pick out the gleaming jade in his irises, the beauty of it. He thumbs over your bottom lip, tantalizing and slow. 

“Okay?”

Absently, you nod, lost in the mystique of him.

“Okay,” you murmur back.

Kinich smiles, and the razor sharpness of his teeth flashes in the dark.

[storiesoflilies]

a touch of salt, a taste of flesh

synopsis: in which toji cannot decide whether or not he wants to eat or love the pretty little human he saved from drowning. w.c: 2k.

pairing: merman!toji fushiguro x f!reader.

warnings: mature themes! mentions of gore and blood, mentions of drowning, open ending. sfw but MDNI!

a/n: if you saw me post this yesterday no you didn’t. please don’t let the fic flop this time lol. heavily inspired by this delicious art!

divider / ao3

the ocean loved to keep her secrets.

she coveted every single one of them, for each was a precious pearl of knowledge about her soul. to know even a single one was to be doomed to a life of fear, to be at the mercy of her passing whims, because you could never tell when she would decide to punish you for it and bash you into pieces.

she didn’t think she knew anything at all about the ocean.

but here she was, coughing up salty secrets trapped deep within her lungs.

again.

while a pair of green eyes watched her.

they were always watching her.

“why do you continue to tempt the sea?” he purred, a slight smirk touching his lips. “little human”

little human.

because that is what she was, and what he most certainly wasn't.

it was in the way he smiled at her – cold and dark and cruel as the smothering sea that had tried snuff her out, curling around her throat like tendrils of seaweed.

a dark, shark-like tail rose from the sea as the creature tilted his head, wet strands of his black hair dripping to the side. he winced every time she coughed some more, as if it were far too loud for his liking, and looked down at her like she was a grain of sand stuck between his scales.

she probably was nothing.

especially not to something like him.

“do you really need to know what it’s like when death creeps up on you?” he continued, dismissively waving a clawed, scaly hand at her. “i could always just tell you how it feels.”

she sucked in a shaky, pathetic heaving breath of sea air into her chest, still gasping and sputtering onto the white-washed sand. the coarse grains scratched her palms painfully, and she tried to calm herself, breathing in and out with the rise and fall of the tide.

his eyes narrowed playfully, thin slits of green in the night. “there, there. you’ll be just fine.”

she didn’t feel like she would be.

there was nothing comforting about him at all.

he was a predator.

his teeth were just that little bit longer than they should be – sharper, pearlescent, and flashing dangerously in the silver moonlight. even though this was the third time he has saved her from succumbing to the depths of the sea, she still didn’t know why he had saved her, or why he still continued to.

but it had to be for something.

or else, he wouldn’t have saved her the first time. he would have let her fingers disappear beneath the waves forever, let her sink to the bottom of the darkest ocean. he wouldn’t keep on watching her from the shoreline, circling round and round the island like a shark drawing ever closer to its prey.

waiting to strike, ready to bite.

“why?” was all she could muster in a hoarse voice, sand tickling her throat.

“why?” he repeated, that saccharine smirk playing on his lips again. “why what, little human?”

“why do you keep on singing?”

the green slits widened a fraction, and he started to laugh. her heart hammered against her chest, and she was afraid she might have said the wrong thing.

“is that what you would call it?” he asked incredulously, a sprinkle of offense creeping into his voice. “singing?”

she gulped.

what else would she call it?

that was what it sounded like to her. she would sit beneath a gnarled tree at the cliffs’ edge, where the earth dipped sharply towards the sea, its rocky face curled over the sea like an old man’s wrinkly hand. there, she would listen, trying to make sense of the strange words wafting from his tongue in the salty breeze.

she would’ve started a war for him.

would have shoved her arms into the bodies of the bent and broken, rummage through all their bones to offer him their still-warm, unbeating hearts.

but there was something in his haunting baritone that made her want to cry, to surrender to the sea, naively believing she could somehow help save him from his own restlessness. to block out the echoing memories that, in that moment, were blurred together and she wasn’t sure if they belonged to him or her.

there had to be some kind of magic involved.

because tonight was the third time she had heard his haunting song.

and the third time she had mindlessly wandered into the arms of the ocean and her false welcome, full of promises she had no intention of keeping.

despite knowing full well that she couldn’t even swim.

his laughter died with the wind, a low, lilting hum lingering at the edge of his words. “maybe you shouldn’t be listening so closely,” he murmured, his eyes heavy with something that looked like hunger. “the sea doesn’t sing for humans.”

he drifted a touch closer to where she was lying, slicing through the shallow water like a blade. she sat up straight, digging her heels into the sand to scramble away from him.

“and yet, here you are,” he said, amusement curling his lips. “again.”

she licked the salt from the cracks in her lips, stuttering, “i-i don’t k-know why.”

maybe it was her obvious helplessness, or perhaps he could smell her hopeless desperation like rotting flesh, but his eyes softened.

“it’s the call for my…” he trailed off, smacking his lips as he searched for the word. “heart.”

he said the it disdainfully, like he didn’t really want to believe he had a heart at all. she couldn’t imagine that he had one either, or that it wanted for anything beyond his most base desires.

flesh and blood.

“your heart?” she repeated in disbelief.

he glowered at her, his tail flicking through the water in annoyance. “yes,” he said, adding much more quietly. “and it seems i’ve found it.”

run away, now.

“w-what?” she sputtered, salt-coated sand flying to the back of her throat.

the creature grinned widely, mischievous fangs glinting, “oh, you know, little human.”

she did know; she just didn’t want to admit it.

“i-i never– i don’t understand.”

“no? then why do you keep trying to swim to me?”

she didn’t know what to say to that.

it was silent for a long time, the sweeping sea moving backwards and forwards like the ebb of time between them. she could see more of him too, even though she knew better than to look.

and he was beautiful.

his tail was longer than she thought, silky smooth and gray like a shark’s was, marred with pink scars and rakes as deep and painful as the ocean. it curled high above his head as he lay belly down in the sand.

oh, but his eyes.

they were a chest of shimmering emeralds, locked onto her every minuscule movement. but his pupils were infinite, a black hole of mysteries and knowledge of ancients city that had come and gone, of seas of blood and red misery.

yet, he was here, on this unremarkable beach at the edge of the world, calling for his heart – for her.

and she’d somehow answered.

“what’s your name?” she blurted out.

there was a strange rumble in his chest before he replied with, “toji.”

toji.

it reminded her of the cold kiss of winter, the inevitable conquest of snow over the trees and blooms, covering everything in its white death. he belonged to the ice-covered seas of the north and south, definitely not from places where the sun and joy pierced through the waves.

there was no doubt that toji was king of those icy seas, reigning supreme over the darkness found within the kelp forests of the deep trenches.

“how old are you?”

toji tilted his head curiously, completely silent as he pondered and searched for an answer.

“how long have humans sailed the seas?”

how very lonely.

she knew she shouldn’t feel anything for toji, least of all feel sorry for him. but here she was, itching for him to take her hand and drag her into the depths he called home. maybe that was what his song meant; perhaps all he wanted was someone to share in ruling over the ice and sea.

how ironic that she couldn’t even swim.

he drummed his sharp fingers against a closed fist, slow and irritatingly suspenseful. “you’re bleeding, you know?”

she frowned and looked down at both sides of her palms, between her pruned fingers, and then further down.

oh.

there was a small stream of blood beneath her left foot, trailing toward the sea before being swept away with the tide.

straight towards toji.

that was when she saw the dangerous twitch dancing on his scarred lip, and she realized just how long he had been holding back for.

“i’m sorry,” she whispered breathlessly, and she truly meant it.

toji’s eyes narrowed again, but there was a spark of anger in them this time. “don’t apologize,” he hissed. “never– not for that.”

for that, for bleeding.

would a shark thank her for covering up a wound?

she didn’t think so.

toji asked for her name, and she offered it freely, willingly. he repeated it loudly, the deep baritone of his voice starting to sing her name in an increasingly agitated-sounding tone.

mine, mine, mine.

her name wasn’t her own anymore.

he was looking at her now, like he wanted to slice open her chest, pull out her heart, and play with the strings that made it beat. to shove his fingers into her aorta to say that he had been really inside her – his – heart.

mine, mine, mine.

and then, his cold hand was gripping her ankle, claws lightly digging into her skin.

she let out a yelp as toji dragged her toward him, the sea rushing over her cheeks and into her ears. he was on top of her, the wetness of the sea bleeding into her, his weight heavy and suffocating, pushing every bit of air out of her fragile lungs. his fingers dug deep into her thighs, just about to pierce through the plush skin.

she beat against the hardness of his chest, “t- cough! toji, please, stop.”

but he wasn’t really there, caught somewhere between the whispering blood ocean and the misty memories haunting his soul.

a pearly tear slipped down his cheek.

“i ca-ah! can’t breath.”

the same deep sound rumbled from his chest, and toji lifted himself up from her ever so slightly. she sucked in great gasping breaths, her eyes teary and blurry as she looked at him through lashes laden with salt.

another milky tear fell from his left eye and dripped down onto the curve of her cheek.

“would you slip away?” toji whispered, his voice rolling over her like the tide, but he sounded far, far away. “into the sea, for me.”

she didn’t want to.

but then he started to hum low and sweet, his wet lips pressed to her neck, and she was ready to.

she could see through the mist and blood now, far above the clouds and the sky and the sun breaking through the horizon. her heart was burning with salt and secrets – secrets she didn’t know she possessed.

until now.

that she was one with the sea, and maybe always had been. so, she didn’t mind all that toji was slowly pulling her towards the depths instead of away from them.

a flash of brilliant green lit up the sky.

was it toji’s eyes or a farewell from the sorrowful sun?

she didn’t know; she didn’t care anymore.

she was his to keep now.

ི♡࿐

©storiesoflilies 2024, all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my work on other sites! i only post on ao3 and tumblr.

[cookie-crumblr]

F!Dragon Reader x M! Yan Dragon OC

Chaos Incarnate

MINORS DNI

CW: FEM! Reader, reader is a shapeshifting dragon, reader has a vagina, reader referred to as she/her, non human anatomy(the guy’s a dragon, of course i’m giving him at least 2 dicks *cough cough* he has 3), reader is virgin, pet names for reader (little queen, ), kidnaped reader, NON CON, cervix fucking, breeding kink, unsafe sex, creampies, multiple orgasms, massive size difference/size kink, predator/prey play, severe violence against reader, dacryphilia, stomach bulge, scaleys(like furries but scaley lol idk if i should warn that but we are dragons), double(triple) penetration, 2 dicks in one hole, public sex, monster fucking i forget the word rn, not proofread whew that’s like my most ever XD ENJOY!<3 potions and magic high fantasy environment. p in v and p in b

Part 1?

You’ve been queen for only a short while. It wasn’t only your birthright, you’ve proven yourself a formidable foe, not to be trifled with on many a battlefield. Your roar has instilled fear in enemy armies, and has rallied your own troops countless times over. You are beloved by your people.

So how did you get into this situation?

A long since (thought to be) dead draconic titan kidnapping you?

The chains are tight around your torso, they’re also enchanted with some magic spell so that you cannot shift into your glorious dragon form. You feel real terror for the first in a long time.

He might eat you… He was known once as the world devourer. You gulp.

He can smell the fear on you, you could in his place, but his smirk gives it away further.

“Little queen,” Even in humanoid form his voice booms off the walls of his cavernous castle. “Why haven’t you had a brood of your own yet? hmm?” His posture is too lax for your own comfort. He inspects you while leaning against the metal bed posts of a massive larger than a standard dragon sized round bed.

“Wh-what!?” You cough and choke on your own spit, what a personal question!! Sure all of dragonkind is wondering why their new queen hasn’t at least taken consorts. “That’s too personal, and quite frankly none of your business.” You defiantly turn your head with a small “hmmpf”

“Oh little queen, that is where you are wrong,” He kicks off of the post, and slowly saunters over to you. He’s completely naked other than a gilded loincloth. You keep your eyes up to the ceiling and away from him. “I haven’t had brood of my own in… Well centuries! since i’ve been asleep and all that.”

Your brows peak, he can’t be going where you think he’s going. His claw traces your jaw and brings your face to his, he gazes upon your lips wantonly. “Please…”

“Oh I love it when you beg already. You’ll be doing plenty of that,” His claw becomes more and more draconic as he shifts it’s form to something much much sharper. You try to sink into the pillar you’re chained to to get away as best you can even though you know it’s no use.

*Slash!*

Your chains clink against the floor loudly. He’s set you free? You look back at him with only one eye opening at a time.

“Your first time should be done properly, right?” His grin is far too toothy for comfort.

“How did you—?” you start panicking now.

He smells the air, his eyes rolling in his head, and hazily coming back to yours as if he’s becoming high from the air.

“Little queen, I am ancient, even if i couldn’t smell it that you haven’t taken a mate or even a consort yet,” He shakes his head in confusion, “You are wearing that sweet innocence on your being. It is in the way you walk, the way you talk and interact with the world around you,”

“I’ve been.. busy, is all…” You look down before, “Wait, you’ve been… Watching me?” your eyes widen.

“Of course. Such a promising mate for me,” His voice is low and resonates in your body, your breathing picks up even more. You can’t help the heat in your core either. “Run away, little queen,” His toothy grin grows inhumanly wider.

You back up, clawing behind you to guide you as you keep your eyes on him, and he slowly stalks after you.

Fuck! fuck! fuck!

His castle bedroom has a window big enough for even him to fly through, it dwarfs you… Just how big is his dragon form?? you transform and start to fly swiftly away. You have to get away!

You hear his transformation behind you, it whips up the wind giving you a jet stream and his cocky roar vibrates the very air around you.

Good gods! What the fuck!?

You have to turn your head back to look, everything in your bones said to look back, even though you knew you shouldn’t, you couldn’t resist, and that pause gave him enough time to pounce upon you midair.

His ginormous claws rake into your scales, and his teeth find your neck, you roar back at him, threatening him, telling him to stop. His growl shakes your throat, your eyes water. He’s going to do it, he’s really going to steal your virginity. A dragon more than twice your size is mounting you!

“Please!” You shout your voice ringing out through serpentine maw. You feel his tentacle like members slipping under your tail, they lay heavily against your holes. Thankfully they feel wet…

“Beg for me, Little Queen!” the dragon’s voice is thunderous, you think that everyone in the world might hear your shame now. Your people certainly will.

“No!”

Two of his cocks wrap around eachother making a thick drill like shape. While his third lines up stiffly to your asshole, the other two start pushing into your vagina. You desperately flap your wings, until he grabs them and pulls hard, you feel your bones snapping, and scream into the sky.

You feel his heads press deeper and deeper, until something within you breaks, and your body convulses, blood spills even between your dragon thighs. You both spin in the air as you hurdle toward the volcanic ground below. His wings flap once and carry you through the air as he slides fully into you, his third entering your ass at the same time.

your pussy stretches to accommodate him, you suddenly feel so full all at once with the air rushing through your nostrils, you might pass out, but his claws around your sides tighten their grasp, waking you up instantly. No…

You will be shown no mercy.

tears fall down your scaled cheeks.

“Beg for me!”

His dicks drag against your walls, even through the whipping wind around you, you can hear the squelching as he fucks you. You don’t realize but he’s flown you both back to his castle, he lands on top of your body with you crashing into the ground cracking stone and sending a shockwave throughout the castle, and shaking the chandeliers above you.

You watch them sway behind him as he roars still inside of you, he cums. completely filling any crevice left. Just when you were about to sigh in relief he gets back to fucking you. Burying his dicks further inside of you, they hadn’t been all the way inside! His maw finds your shoulder and bites down, blood trickles down your arm.

He flips your significantly smaller body over, and presses a clawed hand on your bulging tummy as his dicks continue to pulverize you.

Until he grabs you by your sides and starts to use your body to fuck himself. Your body burns brighter and brighter until you’re convulsing around him and milking more cum from his still hard cocks pouring more semen inside you at the same time.

Milky white rings are building around his bases in both your holes, but he keeps cumming and using your body, he really does want to breed you! you claw the ground and try to get away again, he just pulls back harder, slamming your body back onto his cocks, it feels like he’s breaking into your cervix!

again he cums his cocks pulsing wildly inside of you, his growling is low, and his hips press as hard into you as physically possible. He pulls out after you cum again, and your body shakes violently needing respite.

you remain as silent as possible, and he returns as a human. He casts something at you that forces your body to twist and shrink until your form matches his, your tiny fleshy prison with the aesthetic matching everything that makes you, you. His over eight feet tall stature stands over you, making you, even as queen feel small and weak.

He grabs you, and pops a cork off of something, and forces a glass bottle into your open mouth. You try and shove him off of you, “It’s a health potion,” He laughs.

“As if I care!!” You’re naked and dripping his cum for the gods’ sakes! “I don’t want anything from you!”

“Youre lucky i don’t just eat you, little queen. i need a brood mother only so much.” He throws you onto the gigantic bed as your wounds are completely healed now, he approaches with a smirk. “These forms are so much fun to play in, aren’t they?”

[bedlam-barbie]

Crawling back to you

Or Attention part 2

Part 1 Part 3

Pairing: In Ho x recruiter!reader ; slight salesman x recruiter!reader for the plot

Warnings: hurt no comfort,some suggestive language, reader has BPD, mentions of mental illness

Summary: 3 months after that faithful night in the club, they meet again, only this time, the Frontman was not going to let her go so easily. 

Word count: 4.2k

Author’s note: I am so beyond grateful for all your comments and likes! I was truly not expecting for you to like my work. I was half expecting it to flop lol. Anyway, I am unsure where to go with this story if I should leave it as a two part or write more. So please tell me if you have any ideas or suggestions regarding the direction it should go in. In other news, it kind of got me excited to write for the Salesman as well. So please let me know if you are interested in a Salesman centric one shot. The Salesman’s name will be Gong Yoo as I am not creative enough.

The room was immaculate, every detail meticulously curated, as though plucked straight from the pages of an opulent design catalogue. Rich, dark drapes cascaded elegantly over the towering windows, leaving just enough of an opening to let the faint shimmer of stars peek through, casting a delicate glow into the space. Furniture in nude fainted colors. The air carried a quiet sophistication, but it felt almost surreal. If she didn’t know any better, she might have believed she’d just had sex in a high-end furniture showroom.

She quietly put her bra and underwear on, starting her search for the rest of the clothes throughout the apartment. The man she had just slept with was watching her every move from the top of the king size bed, an amused smirk on his lips.

“You know most women would jump at the opportunity to spend the night with me”

“Please, you already know I am not most women” she replied rolling her eyes. “Have you seen my shirt?”

“And what do I get if I help you?” he asked coily, slowly moving towards the woman like a predator watching its prey.

Her face turned to meet his, his eyes taunting her looking for a reaction. She tilted her head and gave him an innocent look. One of her hands sneaked around his neck, her fingers playing with his dark locks.

“Nothing” she said simply and then yanked him by his hair downwards. “We have an agreement, Gong Yoo, and I don’t very much enjoy when my toys overstay their welcome.”

“Tsk, and here I thought we were friends” the man replied amused, a sharp knife appearing suddenly, its blade now resting just under the woman’s chin.

Her soft giggle filled the room at the sight of the blade. This was exactly why he was her perfect match in her nocturnal activities. She did consider the Salesman, a friend of sorts. Well, as good of a friend a psychopath can be. Her head moved slightly, enough for the knife to press between her lips. Her tongue danced around the silver metal.

“And I thought you knew who you were sleeping with” she said casually. “Now, I do need to leave, we have an early flight tomorrow morning.”

She let go of his hair and took the sharp object out of her mouth. His body was still pressed to hers, wearing nothing and God he did look good. But somewhere in the back of her mind, was a familiar older face, chiseled to perfection, dark orbs full of secrets that could stare into her soul who knew her inside and out. She quickly dismissed the thought, focusing on the scene in front of her instead.

“How could I forget? It’s not everyday that the games celebrate 30 years. How would you like to be my date?”

She was not easily surprised by the man. She had come to know him almost better than herself in the last 3 years. And much more in the last three months. It all started once the games of 2020 ended and they went out for their yearly blackjack event. The night began as a way to hurt their boss, but the more days had passed she realized she liked the Salesman’s company. Not in a romantic sense, but definitely sexually. It was a welcome distraction from work stress and more importantly. From him.

It was almost unbelievable how she let a man toy with her emotions again. A part of her wanted to yell that she was over the man behind the black mask, that his rejection did not sting at all, that she simply went home with the Salesman that night because she wanted to. Not out of vengeance. Gong Yoo had become in a weird way her safe space. While the man was deeply disturbed, she saw him as predictable. When the words regarding the gala left his mouth, she was speechless. He could read the confusion of her face and smirked.

“Well, darling, we both know why we started our little randez-vous. The Frontman will be there, no doubt with a date, so I believe it would be in our best interest to show up together.”

“Interesting, and what is in it for you?”

“Oh, I am sure you can find a way to thank me that night” his eyes were dark and intense, watching her every move.

“God you truly are a narcissistic psychopath, huh?” she asked giggling like a schoolgirl.

“And you are such a borderline cliché, my dear” his smirked grew. “Do we have a deal?”

“Absolutely.”

There was an undeniable comfort in the rhythm they had fallen into. Their days followed a familiar pattern: each would go about their routine, which, now that the games were over, mostly revolved around endless paperwork and researching potential recruits for the next year. The office was stark and quiet, tucked away in the bustling heart of Seoul. Some days, the real fun began after hours. They’d invent new ways to compete, often over the most ridiculous games, challenges that almost always escalated until one—or both—ended up naked in her apartment or his. The routine was theirs, equal parts playful and intimate, a strange solace in a world that had once been chaos.

The woman couldn’t lie, not even to herself—she wasn’t over the Frontman. In fact, she hated how deeply he still had a hold on her, so much so that even hearing his name felt like a fresh wound being reopened. Every thought of him sent a volatile mix of emotions crashing through her—jealousy, pain, anger. She presumed it was all of them but mostly she felt worthless, abandoned. The demons in her mind weren’t new; they had taken root long ago, feeding on every rejection, every unanswered plea. And every time she recalled that morning, it brought her back to feeling like a forgotten child, desperate for even the faintest trace of love. But she wasn’t that child anymore. She had stopped begging a long time ago.

So his invitation, although unexpected, felt like the right call. Although not wanting to admit it even to herself, it gave a strange sense of comfort that Gong Yoo would be there by her side and she did not have to face their boss alone.

As they stepped into the dimly lit ballroom, her eyes instinctively scanned the space, searching for the black mask—and, more importantly, the man behind it. It was clear he played a significant role in the event’s orchestration. The room demanded respect. Every detail, from the grand chandeliers casting a warm, subdued glow to the meticulously placed furnishings, exuded deliberate perfection. The air was crisp, almost unwelcoming, with stone statues lining the room, their lifeless eyes seeming to watch her every move with an air of expectation.

A symphony of classical music filled the space, the notes rising delicately from a live band tucked into a corner near the expansive dance floor. The atmosphere reeked of opulence and elegance, yet an undeniable chill lingered, making the grandeur feel eerily detached. Conversations hummed softly, muffled by the anonymity of the masks each attendee wore. The VIPs, ever distinct, were adorned in elaborate gold masks, while the guards stood out with their pink ones. Management’s masks, jet black and severe, carried an air of authority, while hers—and those of the other recruiters—were a deep burgundy, striking but unmistakably subordinate.

She opted for a long gold dress. Her gown was a statement in itself, perfectly at home in the opulence of the ballroom. The fabric shimmered like molten gold under the dim light, every movement catching the soft glow of the chandeliers above. The structured corset-like bodice hugged her figure, cinching her waist and giving her the regal posture of someone who belonged in a room like this. The neckline swept off her shoulders, its draped detailing softening the otherwise commanding presence of the gown, leaving her collarbones and shoulders beautifully exposed.

The skirt flowed effortlessly to the floor, its subtle draping at the hip enhancing her curves and giving her an almost statuesque elegance. It was the kind of dress that didn’t just demand attention—it commanded it. Her strappy gold metallic sandals clicked against the marbled floor. Gong Yoo wore a burgundy suit perfectly tailored to his measurements, looking almost like her perfect accessory. They walked arm in arm to the bar.

“You clean up nicely, darling” his voice purred in her ear. “All of this for little old me?” he added mockingly.

“You know it, baby,” she whispered playfully. From the outside, they looked like the perfect couple. Too bad her eyes were looking for a particular figure in the sea of bodies.

And then she saw him, At the grand balcony overlooking the masses. The Frontman was a picture of restrained elegance, dressed in a sharply tailored black suit that exuded authority and quiet sophistication. The fabric was rich and matte, absorbing the dim light that filtered through the grand balcony. Beneath the perfectly cut blazer, a matching black vest hugged his frame, its buttons glinting subtly, accentuated by a delicate chain that trailed from one pocket—a subtle yet striking detail that added a vintage edge to the modern ensemble. His tie, jet black like the rest of his attire, was perfectly knotted, a seamless continuation of his sleek, monochrome look.

Seated on the grand balcony, the ballroom’s muted hum stretched out before him, but his focus remained inward. A glass of deep amber liquor rested casually in his hand, the light from the room catching the liquid’s warmth. His  posture relaxed but deliberate, the weight of unspoken thoughts settling on his sharp features. The boutonniere pinned to his lapel—a delicate arrangement of soft blooms—offered the only contrast, a fleeting touch of life against the otherwise dark, striking uniform. His familiar mask perfectly put onto his face. For just a moment, she forgot how to breathe. It was as if he felt her eyes lingering on him and instinctively went to her.

He raised his glass in her direction and tilted his head slightly before resuming his chat with presumably Il-Nam. The minor interaction made her pulse raise, blood rushing to her ears. God, why was she acting like a stupid little girl with a crush? Was he right that morning? Was she that pathetic? She quickly downed a glass of champagne.

“Atta, girl” Gong Yoo said amused. “ Just remember this is not the place for table dancing”

“Hilarious, does the humor come with the personality disorder or did you pay extra for that?”  she asked sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist.”

“Who said I am wearing any?” she replied, smirking slightly.

“There she is.” He laughed, a sparkle playing behind those eyes. “Maybe you should stop speaking like that or I might come to collect that favor you owe me.”

“That’s if you can catch me before I turn into a pumpkin, Mr. Salesman. Now come on, I would like a dance” she replied innocently.

“Your wish is my command, darling”

As they weaved their way through the sea of elegantly masked couples toward the center of the dance floor, her gaze instinctively flicked to where she had last seen In Ho. But he was gone. Still, she could feel him—his presence lingering like a shadow, his eyes tracking her every move from some unseen vantage point. It sent a chill down her spine, but she wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging it. Not tonight.

The quartet began a new melody, its hauntingly beautiful notes echoing through the grand ballroom. Taking their positions, she and the Salesman fell seamlessly into the rhythm, their movements effortlessly synchronized. His precision was remarkable, each turn, step, and sway executed with an almost mechanical flawlessness that both impressed and unsettled her. He led with quiet confidence, his hand firm yet gentle on her waist, guiding her through the intricate dance as though they’d rehearsed it a hundred times.

Her gown shimmered with every twist and spin, catching the light as their bodies moved in perfect harmony. For a moment, the rest of the room seemed to melt away, the opulent surroundings fading into the background. Yet, even as she danced, the weight of unseen eyes bore down on her, a reminder that the game they were all playing was far from over.

As Vivaldi’s The Four Seasons no 8 : Winter began to play, a chill swept through her, and with a sudden turn, she felt a cold hand grip her arm, pulling her toward him. Her breath caught in her throat. No—it wasn’t just any man. It was In-Ho. Her In-Ho. God, how she wanted to slap herself for thinking of him like that. With flawless precision, he guided her every step away from the eyes of Gong Yoo.

“In-Ho,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

“Hello, little dove,” he replied, his tone heavy with menace. “Did you enjoy playing house with Gong Yoo?” His words dripped with sarcasm.

She could feel herself getting angry again. How dare he speak to her this way after he was the one who pushed him towards the other man, himself?

“Funny. Almost as funny as your face that night in the club.” She replied coolly, maintaining his gaze. Although she could not see his face, she felt his body tense up , his grip on her waist hardening as well.

“Are you in love with him?” he asked directly.

“What is between me and Gong Yoo is none of your goddamn business. You are the one who threw me out like a rag doll you were done playing, or don’t you remember that? And now you are doing what? Ambushing me?”

Her words cut through the air like a knife, a sarcastic smile plastered on her face trying not to raise her voice. Although she did love indulging in creating chaos, she believed there was a time and a place. Surrounded by her colleagues and all the potential donors for the games? Not a bright idea. There was a certain way she enjoyed chaos, calculated, ruthless, like a contained flame. Moreover, the woman was very much aware that tonight In Ho was to be selected as the new Host by Il-Nam. As much as she hated his guts, she would put on a show, a pleasant smile and clap for the man. That being said, it was taking everything in her power not to yell and hit him.

“I knew you were not going to pick up my calls so instead I opted for a more discreet way. I wanted to talk to you about what happened.”

“What is there to talk about? We fucked, I thought you loved me since that’s what you claimed and then you threw me out. I was being a stupid pathetic girl. There is no big mystery to elucidate.”

Even speaking of what had happened, made her feel mortified. How mortifying it all sounded on her lips. Her eyes were searching the crowd for her date, hoping he would swoop in and save her, but he was nowhere to be seen. Serves her right for believing that he was actually a friend.

“If you are looking for Gong Yoo, Il-Nam wanted to speak to him.” The Frontman spoke as if reading her mind. “Your sociopath in shining armor has more important matters to attend to” he added.

Although she could not see her face, she felt a flicker of jealousy in his words. The mask he wore was impenetrable, but something in his voice betrayed him. A part of her wanted to kiss his worries away to tell him how everything between her and the Salesman was nothing but a physical affair. She would have taken him into her arms, taken his mask off and caressed his handsome face. Snap out of it, you are truly pathetic.

“As much as I loved this dance of ours, Sir, I fear, I need to go and powder my nose, otherwise I might have to shoot my brains out” she said, a fake smile playing on her perfect lips.

In-Ho sighed, but he released her as the final notes of the song drifted into silence. She bowed respectfully, her movements precise, and he tilted his head slightly in her direction—an almost imperceptible acknowledgment. For a moment, she stood still, her gaze lingering on him. But then, with a practiced smile, she turned and made her way toward the restrooms, weaving through the crowd.

Her body shook involuntarily, the emotions bubbling up inside her like a storm. A rush of anger, bitter and raw, mixed with an ache deep in her chest. It felt like her heartstrings were being pulled and twisted, as if every step forward was one taken away from the person she used to be. She clenched her fists, her perfectly manicured blood red nails digging into her skin, the sharp pressure enough to draw blood from the palms. The sting spread through her hands, but she didn’t flinch. She couldn’t afford to. It was the only way she knew how to keep the chaos at bay—how to stop herself from spiraling into a panic attack, or worse, breaking down in front of everyone.

Her method wasn’t graceful, but it was hers. Unrefined, perhaps, but effective. It anchored her, forcing her to stay in the moment, to keep the lid on the storm inside.

Once inside the restroom, she leaned against the sink, her fingers trembling as she fumbled for the powder in her clutch. The mirror in front of her reflected a woman she barely recognized: the smile from moments ago still lingering in her eyes, but beneath it, there was something fractured. Something torn. She closed her eyes for a brief second, taking in a steadying breath, and then began to pat her face gently, as if each motion could somehow smooth out the tension knotting inside her.

Her hands moved automatically, as they always did when she needed to hide what was truly going on. She applied the powder with care, trying to ignore the way her heart was racing, the way her mind threatened to break free from its restraints. Each tap of the puff against her skin was a moment of false peace—a temporary illusion of control. She hated it, but at least it worked.

With one final sweep of her hand, she put the powder away and adjusted her hair in the mirror. She could hear the music still playing softly in the background, but all she could focus on now was the quiet rage that swirled within her. She wasn’t ready to face him again, not yet, but she would. She always did.

Taking one last breath, she straightened herself up and walked back into the crowd. No one would see the cracks. She made her way outside in the gardens. A beautiful labyrinth laid before her eyes, flower bushes in her sight. Her hands opened her clutch again and pulled out her case of cigarettes, carefully taking one out and lighting it. As she took the first drag, she felt her heartbeat slowing down, closing her eyes. His scent lingered in her nostrils. Musky and seductive mixed with his body odor. The same scent she spent hours scrubbing off her skin in the hot shower after the night they spent together.

“Can I have one of those?” his voice rang behind her.

“What? Are you stalking me now?” she asked harshly without moving an inch.

“No, the atmosphere was stuffy and my social battery in speaking to the VIPs was slowly drained”

He sounded sincere, she thought, though she didn’t give him the satisfaction of another glance. Without a word, she reached into her bag and handed him one of her Marlboros. In-Ho removed his mask, setting it down gently on the marble fence. The action was deliberate, almost ceremonial, as if the mask itself deserved reverence.

They stood there in an uneasy silence, the kind that hung thick in the air, neither of them willing to break it. The Frontman searched for her eyes, but she refused to meet his gaze, doing everything in her power to avoid it. Instead, she focused on the cigarette between her fingers, drawing in a steady breath of smoke, feeling the burn in her lungs.

She took a sip from the glass of champagne she had grabbed on her way outside, its coldness a fleeting distraction from the heat building inside her. Above them, the stars twinkled, casting a soft glow across the garden, and the faint hum of music drifted from inside the building. If it weren’t for the tension hanging between them, the scene would have almost been romantic. The flicker of stars in the sky, the music, the champagne—everything about the moment was meant for ease, for connection. But there was no peace here, not with him, not with the weight of the situation pressing down on her.

She clenched her jaw and took another drag from her cigarette, determined not to let her mind wander too far.

“You look breath-taking,” he admitted, breaking the silence.

“Thank you” she replied coldly, but his compliment awakened something inside her. Warmth pulled through her body.

“You know, gold was my ex wife’s favourite colour” In Ho spoke, his eyes trailing in the distance.

The woman looked up to him and for the first time he saw how handsome his face was looking under the stars. Although a part of her wanted to quiet him, she decided against it, instead opting to understand where this little confession was going.

“She loved gold and white roses and those American pancakes that I know you also enjoy so much” he continued. Her eyes looked at him with caution, almost testing to see where the conversation was headed.

“What happened to her?” she asked softly.

“She died.” He admitted while taking another drag from the cigarette, looking down. “You know she loved Vivaldi’s seasons, particularly winter number 8. She always said it reminded her of me”

“Cold, sharp, determined. I can see that.” The woman replied quietly. “But also oh so captivating and tragically beautiful” she added, her words more of a whisper to herself.

His eyes lifted to meet hers, and for a fleeting moment, the tension dissolved, leaving only a fragile, unspoken intimacy between them. In-Ho hadn’t expected it, the sudden wave of tenderness that swept through him, but it was undeniable—and strangely welcome. Something ached deep within his chest, raw and unresolved. Perhaps it was the pain of speaking about his late wife after so many years, or maybe it was the way the moonlight kissed her skin, making her seem almost otherworldly, like she didn’t belong to this grim reality they both inhabited.

He wanted to pull her into his arms, to bury his face in the warmth of her shoulder and murmur apologies that had long been buried beneath layers of regret and silence. He wanted to tell her how sorry he was—for everything. But words stuck in his throat, too heavy to form.

Instead, he flicked his cigarette against the marble, extinguishing it with a sharp twist of his fingers. The ember died quickly, leaving only a faint wisp of smoke curling into the night air. His hands drifted back toward the cold, familiar weight of the mask. It was easier that way—to retreat behind the impassive facade, where vulnerability couldn’t touch him.

But for a single beat, he lingered—just long enough for the ache inside him to remind him of what could never be.

“Are you and him a couple?” In-Ho asked suddenly, his eyes going back to her, studying her face.

“No,” she laughed dryly. “I am not that stupid, I am very much aware of the kind of person Gong Yoo is. He is great in bed, but I am not naive enough to think I can save a psychopath”

“Then why are you here, with him?” Curiosity took the better of him before he could stop himself.

The woman hesitated, wondering if there was any point in answering. Silence might have been safer, but perhaps it was the champagne loosening her resolve—or the charged atmosphere pressing in around them. Something inside her shifted, compelling her to seek his gaze, searching for answers she wasn’t sure she wanted to find.

Was that jealousy lacing his voice? Pain? Or just cold, detached curiosity? After all, the Salesman had taken away his favorite toy. But was that all she had ever been to him—a possession, something to flaunt and control? The thought twisted uncomfortably in her chest.

She clenched her jaw, torn between bitterness and intrigue, unsure whether she wanted to push him for the truth or leave it buried where it belonged.

“It sounds insane, but I know what I get when I am with him. The lines are clear, I can see his intentions behind every gesture. I don’t have to worry myself to death about what he wants, I already know it. Sex, an accessory on his arm, a thrill. Someone that challenges him. He is easy”

“Unlike me”

“Unlike you” she confirmed while finishing her own cigarette.

[voxisdaddy]

Collection of Pleasure

Hazbin Hotel NSFW Headcanons…

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairings: Alastor | Lucifer | Vox | Valentino | Velvette | Charlie | Vaggie | Cherri Bomb | Rosie | Carmilla | Adam | Lute | Emily | Saint Peter

C/TW: 18+, NSFW, MDNI, reader written as fem, cussing, various kinks, collection of a few subs x dom!reader, mainly the ladies are domming/topping lol, not proofread, some are bad im sorry, carmilla has two though bc its carmilla

In which in at least one NSFW headcanon for each character...

My personal NSFW headcanon for several Hazbin Hotel characters. This includes some of the main cast, the Vee’s, the angels, and some of the other characters ♥︎

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Alastor likes being the predator chasing his prey during his rut...

Sex with Alastor is pretty rare, happens occasionally but usually it's for special occasions like an anniversary. His ruts however? His favourite thing to do (aside from you) is have you run around the forest in his room while he hunts for you in his demon form. He can very easily catch you but he likes to let it play out before he pounces on you for like, two weeks. Goodluck lol

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Lucifer is an insatiable beast...

When he started crying and was quivering so bad one night, you thought that enough was enough and climbed off of him only for his hips to desperately follow you, thrusting into nothing. Despite his tears from the overstimulation you've given him for several rounds by then, he looked at you with teary eyes and begged you to not stop. A safe word was set in place because of that, so you made sure when to stop when he genuinely wanted you to stop. But despite how teary eyed he gets or how much he begs, he never uses it.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Vox likes to watch himself...

"Oh you mean like in front of a mirror?" NO. Well yes but actually he loves getting it on with you in his office because all his monitors will showcase how well you're either riding his dick or fucking his ass with a strap. A few monitors will display his weeping face though thanks to you. He thinks it's humiliating and will try and change them to literally anything else but he can't exactly focus on anything when he's so lost in pleasure. So his weeping face and him getting railed it is. It's like he's your own porn star. This porn star whimpers "mommy" too so have fun with that.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Valentino is capable of getting fucked dumb...

I know it might be hard to believe with him, but it is possible and it's why he's so obsessed with you. He's very experienced in sex, obviously; doming, subbing, top, bottom, doesn't matter. It's all good. The way you can somehow fuck him so good and bring him to so much overstimulation that all he can do babble incoherently? Mans is down bad for you and grows more romantically attached to you than he thinks. Often times the night after a particularly passionate and heated session, he heads to the studio with a slight limp in his step. The first time people saw him limping like that paired with his surprisingly decent mood that day, they knew; oh you're fucking good.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Velvette is a pillow princess...

I 100% see her as a dom, and she very well can dom, but she's selfish and wants all the pleasure with minimal work. With the way she acted, especially when it comes to teasing you, it really through you in a loop when you got to bed that evening. Okay so you're topping-no big deal. The real surprise was when you found out she didn't wanna do anything to help you get off. Oh well. Sitting on her face and using a vibrator against her clit is motivational enough for her to pleasure you too.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Charlie has a little bit of an exhibitionist kink...

a little bit. Kind of? Okay but you know the large window in her room we see her by in episode 1? Has rode your strap and/or fucked you with a strap right in front of that baby. Granted it's pretty high so not like anyone can easily look in anyways but it's still just not private enough that it does something to her. If she's ever potentially really ticked off sometimes she'll eat pussy aggressively while you're pressed, bare tits and all, against the glass.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Vaggie likes titi's...

Whether your big breasted or sporting itty bitties, her hands immediately go to fondle them during heated make out sessions. She's kinda shy in the bedroom so don't take her boldness to grope your chest as her being dominant-she just can't help herself from groping you. Sometimes after sex she'll kiss your chest. Depending on where she kisses and if she'd biting or not, it may lead to another round.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Cherri Bomb is the only person who can rival Lucifer over…

Eating pussy. Whether your sitting on her face or her head is buried between your plush thighs, my girl loves to eat. And she eats like her life depends on it. Even when you think she may need a breather and try to move she’s very quick in pulling you back and keeps you there firmly, often smirking when you’re overstimulated and squirming.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Rosie loves thighs...

Call her old fashioned (cuz she is) but seeing your exposed thighs just does something to her. I mean how scandalous! She spends a majority of her time in Cannibal Town which is trapped in the 1910's. Everyone is dressed in only the most stylish and modest clothing from that time period. So if you ever come strutting about, publicly or privately, in a little something that exposes more of your figure and especially your thighs, expect to have dozens of hickeys decorating your inner thighs by the next day.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Carmilla always says she has no favourite sex position but she does...

it's 69. She prefers to be at bottom since it makes it easier for her to finger you while simultaneously assaulting your clit with her tongue. And of course while you're down there she likes to keep you trapped with her thighs. Because i mean look at them thighs!!! MMHHMMM!!! I see her leaning more towards dom so like, if you're able to focus on eating her out without getting distracted as little as possible then she'll reward you good.

I have two for Carmilla that I desperately want to share so here's my second one; she loves having you keep her strap warm while she does paperwork. Just you sittin pretty on her big plastic dick, occasionally gripping your thigh when you squirm too much. Will play with your clit if you're being needy-try not to squirm too much though or else you ain't getting anything once she'd done her work for the day.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Adam secretly cherishes your more intimate sex...

As much as a dick (master) this guy is, he definitely has his vulnerable side. During some make up sex after an argument and temporary separation that could have very easily lead to your guys break up, he found himself unusually emotional as he was balls deep in ya. He didn't cry, as if he'd allow himself to do that especially at a time like sex, but he felt it. The pull at his heart strings, the relief that washed over him that you two were still together, the way your lips uttered his name like a prayer., It was a surprise to him and one he'll never forget.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Lute cums surprisingly fast via fingering...

You found this out when opting to use your fingers to do the job over the dildo, strap, and vibrator. She already knew she came fast via fingering but didn't want anyone to know that-she came almost embarrassingly fast and it sometimes felt like it wouldn't stop. This hit her ego a little bit considering that she's stubborn as all hell but she could barely defend herself when she kept cumming around your fingers. Safe to say you had quite a lot to lap up that night.

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Emily gets wet easily...

is it really that surprising? You found this out when you were kissing at her neck and reached down to her uplifted dress and felt that slick wet feeling between her legs. She was very flustered and even more when you teased her for getting this wet over a few neck kisses-there was only one hickey (so far).

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Saint Peter has a thing for light bondage...

Nothing hard obviously but his wrists being bound together or to the bed via rope or handcuffs gets him going. It puts him in a position where he's completely at your mercy. Blindfolding him is on the table as well-his other senses are heightened as fuck making him react more enthusiastically to your touches and whispers. Even though he's into it it's also a double edges sword cuz this guy needs to touch you and not even being allowed to look at you either has him whining.

This has been in my drafts for weeks lol some of these aren't to my personal standards but I was really running out ideas that were both fitting to the character and weren't too basic/a repeat of another's. I didn't wanna exclude some people from my original roster so I toughed it out lol

sometimes my posts get shadowbanned for literally no reason and at random so it would mean the world if you reblogged this thank you <3 no pressure tho!

[ihavethedreamies]

Matter of Pride | Hongjoong [NSFW]

Kim Hongjoong - ATEEZ

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~5.8k

Pairing: Lion-Hybrid!Hongjoong x Gazelle-Hybrid!AFAB!Reader

Genre: Hybrid AU!, Historical?/Ancient?, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut, Some Plot, Strangers-to-Friends-to-Lovers

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, very tiny mention of noncon, Pet Names (Doll, Sweetheart, Sweet, Love, etc.), Swearing, Kissing, Biting & Scratching & Marking, Bonding/Mating, Heat/Rut, Pheromones, Oral (F! Receiving), Unprotected Sex (This is pre-birth control so…), Monster(?)!Hongjoong (not really, he's a lion hybrid)

Author's Note: Okay, here we go lol. This is NOT Omegaverse, but they do both go into rut/heat. They have animals ears and tails and he's got a spiny lion cock. Hongjoong is not necessarily bigger than reality, the reader is just small. I did also imagine this more to be set in the steppe of Central Asia/Southern Siberia rather than Africa.

-> Series Hub <-

🐕 Yeosang's 🐕

🐻 Jongho's 🐻

🐯 San's 🐯

Revised (1/31/25)

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! Share, even if its to the other sites! Let me know if you want to be on the taglist!

Ever since you were a calf, the elders of your herd told you to stay away from predators. You aren’t for sure why though, since all they told you is that they’re dangerous. You find that quite odd considering you’re not full animals, and as far as you know, predator hybrids do not literally eat prey hybrids. There’s probably some ancient lore-based superstition or something, and it isn’t till you’re older do you really think about the real facts. Despite logically knowing that they aren’t going to eat you alive, you are still a bit scared about meeting a predator.

One day you’re traversing the rocky steppe of your homeland, right at the foothills of the mountains. Crouching down, you run your fingers through the grass, feeling for the tell-tale mound of the root you’re looking for. The sun is beginning to set, the cool of late spring settling in the air.

"No." you grumble, not feeling anything. Standing back up, your attention is quickly drawn to a new sound. Your furry ear, sticking out from the side of your head, flicks at the noise. The wind shifts and your sensitive smell picks up something unfamiliar, but it triggers a deeper, primal part of you. Predators. Logic tries to fight back against instinct, the sound is voices, not the growls of an actual animal. Still, your heart races, the sound of blood pumping thuds in your ears. Your furry tail swishes back and forth nervously, and despite your apprehensions, you move toward the voices. Finding a path that leads a bit further into the foothills, you see fresh boot marks. Gently, like doing so might trigger something, you place your own foot in the print, the size difference is striking. You’re not a child, you’re actually quite a bit bigger than the other women of your herd, but… A boisterous laugh hits your ears, your head turning toward it on its own, instinctually. Swallowing hard, you follow the tracks and when you come around a large boulder, you peer around it. There’s a small clearing created by tall, jutting rocks, and a camp has been set up there. Three figures sit around a firepit, great furry pelts wrapped around their shoulders and necks. Lions. There’s a fourth figure, leaning against one of the rocks, making him closest to you. Peering closer, you see he’s… beautiful. Sharp eyes and jawline, his hair isn’t as long nor as shaggy as the others. His pelt is much nicer as well, and he’s the only one with a tunic shirt on underneath his pelt. A large axe-like knife is attached to his belt, and he has a deep red cloth tied around his bicep. You feel the end of your tail brushing over the rock as it sways, your nose twitching as the wind carries their scent. You have a hard time pinpointing the exact fragrance, but the one closest to you is the most potent. And the most pleasant. The three around the fire smell like the smoke wafting around them, and like sweat and dirt. The other one though, he smells like spiced tea and fragrant tree bark. The wind shifts again, coming up from behind you, carrying your scent right into the clearing. You barely have time to realize what happened, trying to back away and completely out of sight, but he notices. As you duck to hide, his deep golden-brown eyes meet your own. The intense look shoots fear through your very DNA and you turn to bolt, using your species' long and fast legs to sprint. You don’t make it very far though, and the back of your tunic is seized, and you bleat as you’re hauled back. Turning to look at your captor as best as you can, it’s the handsome one. He smells even better so close and looks even better. Your face is hot, for many different reasons, and you wonder if he can smell your fear. Is that an actual thing?

"What's wrong Hongjoong?" One of the other lions calls and he’s able to hide you with his own body. He isn’t as big as the others, but still a good seven or eight inches taller than you.

"Smelled a doe, I'm going to see if I can get her." He shouts back and they go back to their raucous conversation. The lion holding you wraps his arm around your middle rather than gripping your tunic and easily carries you around the boulder fully and down the slope. You hang there, not sure what else you can do, and he only lets you go when he gets to the end of the path that led you in.

"S-sorry!" You spin around to face him, not trusting him at your back, "I wasn’t eavesdropping!"

"I'm not worried about that, doll. Be glad the smoke covered your scent for the others."

"W-why? Will they…" You swallow hard, your quivering obvious to him. So are your twitching ears, and he can see your tunic shifting from your wagging tail.

"Will they eat me?" Your question throws him off, to the point that he flinches back.

"What?" He huffs, "No, of course not. Is that what you’re told?" You shrug, feeling embarrassed now.

"That's not what I'm worried they would do to a cute thing like you." Your arm reaches around your back, twisting so you can wrap your fingers around the end of your braid, tugging on it. You can’t meet his gaze, especially because you understand his implication. Also, you aren’t sure how you feel about him calling you cute.

"What are you doing around here? What herd are you with?"

"I was gathering herbs…I'm with the gazelle herd southwest of here." You motion vaguely behind you.

"What were you looking for?"

"Valerian root. It's too early for the plant to be flowering so it's hard to find." He doesn’t reply for a bit, glancing behind him.

"There's a big tree, east of your village?"

"Y-yes?" You’re a little concerned he knows the area so well, but at the same time if they know where your herd is, and have left it be, it’s probably okay.

"What else have you been looking for?" His change of subject catches you off guard, but you answer.

"Meet me at that tree tomorrow evening, and I'll have some for you. Don't come back this way, those others aren't safe."

"You are, though?" Your question doesn’t sound as bold as you want it to. He chuckles a bit, then exhales hard through his nose.

"Short answer, yes. I don’t want to be working with them, but I don't have a choice right now."

"What do you want in return?" You ask, why would he help you just to be nice? It’ll be a lot of work to gather the herbs you’re looking for.

"We'll see how hard it is, then I'll tell you. Deal?" He holds his hand out and you eye it. Finally, taking it, the strength behind the grip jolts you.

"I'm Hongjoong. Do you have a name I can call you?" He smirks softly and you pull away from the handshake likes he’s burned you suddenly.

"(Y/N). About this time?"

"Sure, doll. Now go home, and don't come back here." Hongjoong steps back and nods for you to do so. Turning back to look at him a few times as you go, you trot back home, your bag lighter than you had planned on it being.

All through the next day, your eyes keep flitting to the sun behind the clouds, waiting for it to reach the right point in the sky. You’re glad you’re the head healer, if you hadn’t come back with a good haul before your mentor retired, she would’ve swatted your hands. In the beginning, it was weird to return to an empty tent, but after nearly six months, you’re used to it. It isn’t like she’s dead; it’s just weird she isn’t there anymore. Your hands move on muscle memory as you work through the day, thoughts spiraling, always returning to the image of the lion you meet the day prior. It doesn’t help that he’s so attractive, the encounter would’ve been significantly less captivating without that factor. It’s clear he doesn’t like his comrades, even past that, his appearance is very different from theirs. He’d been standing far away from them as well and had even lied when he found you.

The closer toward the horizon the sun grows, the more distracted you get, and you’re so antsy that for the last hour before the designated time, you stand at the edge of the village. Some of your herd have questioned your odd behavior through the day, and you brushed it off, telling them you’re thinking hard about where to find more herbs. That time of year is difficult with so many different plants sprouting up, and most people accept your reasoning. Only your mother wasn’t convinced, but she also knows not to press too hard, or you’ll lose your patience. You don’t have too much of that to begin with.

From where you’re standing, you can kind of see where the tree is, well, the rock that’s hiding it. It’s behind the big rock. Glancing up at the darkening sky, you can finally see the twinkling of the northernmost star, and you start to trek out. After you descend the slope, and get over the hill after it, you know you’re out of sight, and break into a quicker pace. For some reason, you’re excited. Is it the thrill of doing something that others will frown upon? Is it that you get to bask in the presence of the extremely attractive lion once more?

You reach the boulder faster than normal, it seems your body is just as eager, and has decided to move faster than your brain realized. Swallowing hard, your hand brushes over the smooth stone surface as you move around it, peaking around. Feeling a small sense of déjà vu, when you can see around the rock, you see him under the tree.

"There's no need to hide, doll." His voice is warm, and you giggle a little in embarrassment, fully coming around. Right when you get close enough, he takes a bundle off his shoulder, leaves poking out from the leather wrap. Taking it gently, you crouch down so you can untie it and look. You gasp seeing everything that’s there. Not only did he find everything you needed, but there’s also a lot there.

"H-How did you get so much?" You look up at him from your squat and he shrugs. No verbal response, but you’re too grateful to question.

"H-here." You reach into your own bag, your string of coins jingling as you pull it out.

"No, (Y/N). You don't need to pay me."

"But!" When you move to give him the coins, he wraps his fingers over yours, so they wrap around the metal pieces.

"What do you want as payment then?"

"Don't worry about it."

"I have, um. I have this mulled wine my grandfather makes…" You go back to your bag, going to unite the cord of the wineskin.

"No."

"Um, okay, I have…" You shuffle stuff around in your bag, looking for the flute you still don’t really know how to play.

"(Y/N). You don't have to give me anything, it’s fine." He’s closer then, trying to get you to stop your frantic search. His fingers go to your chin, forcing your head to tip back so you can meet his gaze.

"A-are you sure?"

"Yes." He drops his hand and steps back once more, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

"N-nothing?" You feel bad, it would have taken you hours to gather that much.

"If you really want, you can sit and talk to me for a bit?" He suggests and the request flabbergasts you.

"Really?" Hongjoong hums with a nod, turning so he can move to the tree, sitting at the base in a divot in the large roots. Sitting down next to him, you truly feel small then, scratching at a root with your blunt fingernail. Your eyes go to his own hands, sharp claws sit at the end of each finger. You also have noticed when he smiles, his canine teeth are bigger and sharper. His golden-blonde hair, rounded ears, and tufted tail all scream that he’s a lion, even if his demeanor doesn’t. He isn’t scary, but he’s majestic and beautiful.

"Have you ever met a lion before me?" He rests against the tree trunk, and you shake your head.

"Have you ever met a predator?"

"Not really. Just seen them from afar." You pick at a dried bit of some poultice you made that stuck on your tunic skirt.

"You aren’t as afraid as I thought you’d be, then."

"If it had been one of the others, maybe."

"Why am I different?" Hongjoong's gaze on you makes your face hot, you can’t return the look.

"You could’ve given me away to the others, and you didn’t." Yep, that’s it. Nothing more to it.

"That's it?" He sounds a bit disappointed.

"Why didn’t you?"

"I told you; I don't care for them."

"Then why are you travelling with them?"

"It's hard to be a solo male out here. It's easier to work with a group before I try and get my own pride."

"Oh. So, like, a bunch of wives?"

"More like two or three. Not like full lions, but..." He doesn’t sound super eager for even that.

"Are all lion hybrids like that?"

"More or less. Never appealed to me much, to be honest."

"Really?" This piques your interest, and you don’t dwell too much on why.

"It's rare for lions to have one spouse, out in the wilds anyway. I've debated leaving for the capital, but…"

"Why not?"

"I don't mind living off the land, but I don't know where else to go to find a wife. Most lionesses also want to be in a pride, like some ancient call."

"Huh."

"Are gazelle monogamous?"

"Hybrids are. Have a shit ton of kids though." Your response makes him laugh; the sound rumbling through you.

"Can you roar like a full lion?" You’re too curious. You needto know.

"Uh, no. Can you actually bleat like a full gazelle?"

"Not really…" Now you feel stupid, ears flicking nervously. Your tail thumps a bit on the ground, your eyes meandering down to look at his. It’s much longer than yours, like his full animal brethren.

"What about you?"

"Me?" You look up at him.

"Do you want to get married and have a shit ton of kids?"

You hum in thought. No. It’s more because you don’t want to be pressed into a mold. Most herbalists never marry, let alone have offspring, that’s part of the reason you chose the trade.

"No."

"You even want kids?"

"Don't know. One might be nice, but that's not how it works…" You stare in the distance toward your village.

"How many siblings do you have?"

"I'm the oldest of eleven."

"Fuck." He huffs and his reaction makes you burst into a guffaw.

"Yes."

"Is your mother…okay?" This makes you laugh harder.

"Uh, I can't imagine five singletons plus three sets of twins would make anyone okay."

"Not your ideal future?"

"Oh, fuck, no." Hongjoong smiles at your obvious newly relaxed state. It’s then you notice the sun has set completely, little white stars twinkling in the dark purple abyss.

"I need to get back!" You shoot up, retying the bundle he’s given you.

"Wait!" He stops you with a hand on your wrist. Turning to look back at him, he licks his lips, letting you go.

"Can you meet me back here in two days? Same time?" Your eyes widen a bit at the request, but you feel a smile tug at your lips.

"Yeah, I can."

~υ.υ~

You do go back like he asked.

"You came!" Hongjoong seems genuinely surprised, standing up straight from where he’s been leaning against the tree.

"Of course?" You’re genuinely surprised at his reaction, "why wouldn’t I?"

"I was a bit worried you only came last time for the herbs…" He won’t look straight at you, and you notice he has something in his hand. It’s obviously plants.

"Is that why you brought that?" You point to them, and he brings them around from behind his back.

"Y-yeah."

"Hongjoong. You're the first guy that still gives me the time of day after saying I don’t want to have twelve children." You motion behind you toward your village, "honestly I've been really impatient, waiting for…now." Your face warms and you swipe your leg back and forth, drawing an arch in the dirt with your toe.

"You're the first girl who didn’t look at me weird when I said I only want one wife…" He huffs, the confident smirk coming back to his face.

"Is it weird that we're so different?" You voice the obvious concern between both of you.

"Maybe. But it doesn't feel like it."

~é_è~

For nearly two months you meet at the tree, every two days. One night, under a full moon, when you arrive at the tree, he meets you right as you arrive, immediately sweeping you into his arms. A bit shocked, you return the hug, warmth flooding your entire body. You speak like normal, sitting together, shoulder to shoulder. That time though, there’s something in the air. You can’t place your finger on it, and when you go to leave for the night, he hugs you once more. When he pulls back, his hand goes to cup your cheek.

"I…I don’t want to let you go." He barely pulls away from the hug but does release you. His head is bowed to be closer to yours, forehead brushing yours.

"Hongjoong?" You aren’t for sure what he means, considering he literally lets you go.

"Run away with me. Come to me. Stay with me." He tilts his head, nose brushing yours, his breath mingling with yours. Tears prick your eyes, a rush of emotions knocking your breath away as he steals it. His lips are hot on yours and a tear escapes your eye. When he pulls back, his eyes meet yours, and he grimaces at your tears.

"Tomorrow. I'll come to you. Here?" You ask, ready and willing. You do want to at least say goodbye to your family, gather your things…

"No. There's a cave near where we first met-"

"Behind the vines?"

"Yes."

"I'll be there."

~/)>3</)~

Your mother doesn’t ask too many questions. She knows there’s been something on your mind, and she knows and sees that you aren’t happy in the village. You never will be, especially not after meeting Hongjoong. You don’t have the heart to tell your father, so you say goodbye to him like it’s any other time you go to gather herbs. It isn’t like you’ll never see them again, but you aren’t sure when you’ll go back, not sure where you’ll end up. With one last glance behind you, you leave your village, your bag more full than usual, but no one notices.

Standing at the entrance of the cave, you swallow hard, parting the hanging vines and stepping in. He’s there. Of course he is, it seems he’s been living there. A very convenient hole lays in the ceiling, casting the sunlight in. The whole cave smells of him, and once he sees you, he moves forward. You gasp, his hands cupping your jaw, lips sealing over yours. This kiss isn’t anything like the time before. Hongjoong pulls back slightly, just so you can breathe, and you whimper at the loss. Your tail rapidly flits back and forth behind you, ears twitching just as fast. Hongjoong's spiced aroma has grown stronger, a slight rumbling building in his chest. His hands are still holding your jaw, the claw on his thumb just barely ghosting over your skin. Stepping even closer, your hands fall on his chest, and you marvel at the hard muscle underneath the pelt around his shoulders. The rumble grows stronger under your touch, and you can already feel your core clench around nothing. Swallowing hard, you breathe in his scent, over and over, likes it’s a drug.

"Fuck, (Y/N)."  He practically growls, one hand moving to rest on your waist. His face buries into the crook of your neck; nose pressed to your jugular. Your blood spikes and you feel your entire body shudder. You’re unsure if it’s arousal, or a sense of danger, having the large fangs of a predator near your weakest spot.

"You smell so good." Hongjoong groans, hauling you closer, leaving barely a space between you.

"Like what?" You want to add, 'like a meal or a mate?', but don’t want to ruin the moment.

"Like when the apricots blossom." His other hand on your jaw moves instead to the back of your head, the one on your waist to the small of your back. You gasp at the pressure of his body, feeling him growing hard against your stomach. His face leaves your neck, and he kisses you again. You wonder if that’s what the elders implied by being eaten alive. His tongue has easily entered your mouth, swiping over yours, his large canines clacking against your much blunter ones. You expected his tongue to be rough, but he didn’t know yours would be as well, though not nearly as coarse as your full animal kin. It seems though, that he’s literally drooling, the extra saliva makes his tongue glide around yours. You whimper again, the muffled noise is nearly a bleat, and the rumble of his chest nearly a roar. Hongjoong's lips leave yours, a strand of spit connecting your mouths, another trail leaving the corner of his mouth. He licks away the extra, breaking the trail, his pupils have narrowed to slits. Your own pupils are blown wide, the black nearly eclipsing the color of your iris. Part of you feels the need to run, flee, that you’re being hunted. Somehow though, that thought turns you on all the more.

"Are you sure, (Y/N)?"

"Huh?"

"Once I have you, I won’t let you go." His voice rumbles through you, straight to your cunt, and your scent of arousal builds to the point you can smell it yourself. The spiced bark of his own aroma fills your nostrils, making your thoughts hazy.

"You already have me." You reply, voice very soft, to keep it from shaking. Your brain doesn’t register his next move till it’s already done, your back pinned to the rock of the cave, his hand still on the back of your head to make sure it doesn’t smash against the stone.

"Tell if it hurts too bad." His voice is in your ear, nose pushing against the collar of your tunic. Your hands around his neck move to his upper back, gripping hard into the pelt as his teeth sink into your shoulder. Your eyes roll back, the stinging pain just arouses you further, and his hips rut forward once, pressing his even harder cock against your tummy. As his fangs leave your skin, he licks over the spot, and you flinch at the sting. Just then, his scent spikes, the aroma becoming sweeter, mingling with yours. You know predators bond through mating bites, but you had no idea what it would do to your body. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire, blood rushes in your ears and a drop of slick starts to flow down your inner thigh.

"Gotta warn you, sweetheart." He huffs, a cocky smirk gracing his features, tongue licking over the drop of blood still on his lip. He palms his hard-on through his tunic pants, "might look a little different than you're expecting."

"Huh?" You aren’t fully registering what he’s getting at. Hongjoong's fingers wrap around yours, bringing your hand to his covered cock, letting you palm over him yourself. You whimper, you have dealt with plenty of naked males being a healer, and none compare. The thing that you notice - what he’s really talking about - are the little spines at the base of his cock and below the head. Your eyes widen, normally that would concern you some, but your body is ready and waiting. Eager even, begging.

"They don't hurt like a full lion’s, but I wanted you to know."

"I don't care, I just want you to split me open on it." Your bold declaration makes him chuckle, his tongue licking against the tip of your ear. It flicks under the touch and the hand at your head brings your lips back to his. He swallows your mewls, the hand he has on your back moves lower, gripping the base of your tail. When he tugs, a bleat escapes your throat, and his hard thigh nestles between your quivering ones. He immediately feels the heat of your cunt through the thin leather of his tunic pants, your slick quickly dripping over the material.

"You're soaked, love." He presses harder, your hips jumping, the slight friction intensified by whatever hex he seems to have you under.

"Sorry, sweet. You're sending me into a rut." His chest is rumbling again, deeper than before, "It'll be hard to hold back." Is that what is happening to you? Is he putting you into heat? Yours are normally extremely weak since you’re unmated, is it much worse because he’s a predator? Does your body need to compensate for his own body’s greater power? The hand on your tail moves to cup your butt, then to your thigh, prompting you to pronk up and into his arms. You wrap your legs around his waist, the bulge of his cock pressing over your bare cunt and you whine, breath hitching. You feel so small then, he easily holds you up against the cave wall, broad enough that most won’t even know you’re there but your legs around his middle. Hongjoong kisses over your neck, down to your collar bone, rough tongue searing over your skin. Your hands scramble, gripping and pulling at the pelt around his neck, trying to get it off. He helps you, reaching under to undo a small button and you pull it up over his head, letting it flop to the ground. His toned arms are fully on display then, the red cloth around his arm somehow makes the sight all the better. He never told you what it means, and you just assumes it’s an accessory. Before you can start trying to wrestle his tunic top off, he holds you to him, carrying you to a pile of pelts it seems he uses as a bed. Softly, he lays you down on it, but his following movements are anything but. He rips his shirt off and you don’t get time to ogle his bare torso because he proceeds to literally tear yours off. You were only been in a linen tunic dress, but still the ease with which he turns it to shreds is incredible arousing. His palms are rough against your soft skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"Hongjoo-!" Your breath is kicked from your lungs, vision spattering with dots of light when his tongue buries into your cunt. You hadn't even realized he was down there, hands pressing to your thighs to hold your legs open. Even the slight brush of his lips over your clit as his tongue licks over your walls is intense. A strong wave of pleasure is quickly cresting, your womb pulsing hard, walls clenching.

"Fuck~!" Little bleats and whimpers leave you, your tail whacking against the pelts beneath you, dull nails raking through his hair. While you’ve never had an orgasm, you know that's what’s rising. With how quickly he brings you up to and over the edge, you know you’re in for a long night. Hongjoong growls, his purr rumbling through his tongue into you, drinking your essence as it squirts from your cunt. Smirking, he pulls back, thumb gathering a drop from his chin so he can lick it off.

"You think your cute little cunt can take my cock?" His knuckles brushes through your folds, careful of his claws.

"Please, need it~" Your foot comes up, pressing over his hard-on. He grunts, wrapping his hand around your ankle, forcing it off so he can take his pants off. You watch, hazy eyes trying to focus as the leather hits the cave floor. Your eyes subsequently widen, brain fogging further. Little spines circle his cock, thick and long. Hongjoong kneels between your legs, spreading them and hooking one of your knees over his elbow to keep you open for him. He chuckles at the twitch your entire body seizes from when the hot head meets your dripping folds.

"It might sting, love." He warns once more, the thumb of his hand on your waist rubbing small circles over your hip. You nod, trying to relax but also steel yourself. Yes, it stings, it burns, but it’s amazing. Each little bit he sinks his fat cock into you, the little spines rub and pull at your walls. Your slick allows an easy glide, but his own head is swimming from the tight vice of your cunt, eagerly sucking him in. You shudder with each breath, heat searing through you from your core out, and he’s barely half-way in when you feel another orgasm cresting. You thought the pain would diminish the pleasure, but it’s the opposite, the burn heating you even further. Hongjoong lays kisses over your shoulder around his mark, letting you adjust to the stretch, even if it’s nearly painful for him to go so slow. As the head of his dick presses against your eager and weeping womb, the little spines at the base brush your clit and folds, and the final little push finishes you off. You throw your head back, eyelids fluttering, nails leaving crescents on his shoulders. He groans as your tight cunt pulses around him, more of your slick spurting out from where he’s filling you. When the waves of your orgasm fade, you’re still shuddering, tipsy on the pleasure.

"Ready, love?"

"Hongjoong~" You mewl, fingers rubbing over his hot skin, blunt nails scratching a path down from where you had them. Your other leg ends up hooked over his elbow as well, and when he pulls out, only about halfway, the little barbs tug at your gummy walls. He snaps his hips then, burying back inside, battering the fat head against your cervix. He was right, he can’t hold back. He wants to start slow, let you get used to it, but he can’t. The next thrust has no warning, his pace immediately relentless, your knees pressed up toward your ears. He’s fucking you stupid, the noises you let out sounding more and more like your animal kin, bleats and moans melding. Your body has gone limp, only your arms have any strength, hands digging into the pelt under your hips. Your head lolls and your breasts bounce with each thrust. You can’t think to let him know as he barrels through your third orgasm, more slick gushing from your cunt. His noises are animalistic at that point, anyone passing would think a real lion is rutting in that cave. His tongue runs over his long fangs, saliva spilling from his lips as he growls and grunts.

"Aw, fuck, (Y/N)." He chuckles, burying his cock as deep as he can, pressing those little spines against your groin, pumping your eager womb full. You aren’t even sure you can actually get pregnant, but he’s bound and determined to fill you to the point that it’ll leak out of you for days. The heat of his cum inside brings you over the edge too, a much smaller climax racking you. He’s still hard as a rock though. You gasp, your lungs spasming as he pulls his cock all the way out, those little barbs digging in. Your world spins, your chest and stomach to the pelts below then, and he yanks your hips up, sinking his cock back in once more. At this angle he gets even deeper somehow, each rough plow of his dick battering your back walls. Your vision blurs further, eyes rolling back, fingers futilely digging into the fur below you. His hips pummel against the skin of your ass hard, the smacking combined with his beastly grunts makes your ears twitch. His hand goes back to your tail, wrapping around the base, tugging a bit. Shivering shoots straight up your spine from where he has you, cunt weeping along with you, tears and drool leaving a puddle on the pelts under you.

"Fucking hell, love. You're so good for me~" He groans, chuckling as your walls flutter through another climax. Your cunt and clit sting from the overstimulation, but you need more, you need him to pump you full more. The bite on your shoulder flares with heat, so does your skin as his hands wrap around the small of your waist. His thrusts once again grow unsteady, instead they’re hard and shallow, pulling back just enough to rake those little barbs over your clit over and over.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck." You ramble, vision already spotting with white, then nearly scream when he comes again, spurts of white hot jizz leaking from your hole, not able to handle the amount. Your cunt spurts as well, the mix of your release leaving a mess on the pelts. You gasp for air, heart thudding, sweat dripping from your forehead. He’s still hard. Maybe that's why your people are warned about mixing with predators. His stamina is a beast in itself.

"Can you keep going love? Lions go for a whole day sometimes." Hongjoong groans when your cunt clenches again, really hoping you can keep going. His body needs yours, just as bad for both of you, and he wants to fuck you the rest of the week if he can. He might be able to, you on the other hand…

"Fuck me stupid, I don't- just your cock~!" You whine and moan, giggling like an idiot as his hips roll again. Picking back up to his monster pace again. Every drag of his dick seems to eek a tiny little orgasm out of you, your body strung so tight, it sings with every one of his movements. Your brain vaguely registers as the sunlight fades from the hole in the ceiling, fading to the cool moonlight. You don’t think you can walk for a week after, he’s fucked so many orgasms out of and into you, you lost count. Globs of thick seed slips out of your cunt when he finally pulls out, cock finally softening. Your face is blank, eyes open but barely conscious.

"Sleep, my love. I'll need you again in the morning."

-> Series Hub <-

Master-Master List

ATEEZ Master List

[theitgirlnetwork]

Earn it

Ch. 1: You Boys Really Like to Play Doubles

Note: Okayyy another one in the lineup. Now that I'm back in my account I think I am going to make an update schedule. I hope you all enjoy this new series along with the others and let me know what you think. This first chapter is mostly backstory building but this story is my chance to be messy lol. It will have spoilers for challengers, but also a lot of things are changed. Please feel free to interact and give feedback (constructively) it inspires me to hear from you all. This obsession came fast so I feel like I already have so many ideas for these characters. This one is short because I was dipping my toe in but they will get longer! The aesthetic board for this story will be on the masterlist in a couple hours! Thank you and enjoy!

Tashi Duncan is an athlete. Hell, she’s the athlete. Of their arena. Of their time. She’s good. Great. Passionate. Beautiful…in the words of Art.

Sexy as shit in the words of Patrick and just about every other man who managed to lay eyes on her. She’s something to marvel at. And they did. Marvel. Art and Patrick stand there, jaws slack, eyes locked on the girl as she moves about the dancefloor absently. It’s like the opposite of how she moves on the court. There she’s a predator. Moving quickly, calculated, with strength. Here she’s graceful, eyes closed and enjoying the motions.

It’s their chance. A chance to meet her. To flirt with her. Con her out of her number when she wanders away from the group of women she’s dancing with over to the couches to retrieve her drink. It’d be easier to talk to her alone. They do their best work in a double, and as far as they knew, she had no partner. As far as they knew. 

And they’re basking in her attention. Taking turns in a whole new match. When one gets the gift of her gaze the other’s smile drops like a puppy waiting for its turn to be played with, her easy smirk resting comfortably on her face the whole time. Until she comes.

“Made some friends?”

The two of them can’t help but have the same thought. Art was admittedly more ashamed to have it but they both had it. There’s two of them.

“These guys are in the tournament. They play tomorrow.” Tashi smiles, holding her hand out to the girl and helping her step over the table so she can sit down next to her. Both men offer her their own hand to help her the rest of the way but she simply squeezes Tashi’s harder. 

Patrick and Art don’t know where to look. Before the girl’s arrival Tashi was the only person worthy of admiration here. She’s stunning, abnormally beautiful. But so was her friend. She had a darker complexion, with full lips coupled with a pretty smile. She tosses her silky dark hair over her shoulder, exposing more shiny skin. Her pink, strapless dress compliments Tashi’s royal blue one so much that even two men with no knowledge of women’s fashion would guess the choice was purposeful. They exchange looks as the women cross their legs in sync, Tashi handing her half-drunk beverage to her friend who rolls her eyes with a small as the boys’ eyes drop to her mouth. “Are they any good?”

Tashi hums thoughtfully, tilting her head lightly as if she needed to observe them to determine that. “From what I hear? Sometimes.”

“Not good like you though.”

That takes them aback for a moment. I mean, Tashi just won a tournament, she’s proven herself enough to pass judgment, all this girl has proven to them is that she’s hot. Who’s she to decide that they weren’t in the same league as Tashi. They weren’t, but who was she?

“You, uh, know that just from looking at us?” Art asks, finding himself sitting straighter at the scrutiny, the unimpressed looks on the two girls' faces getting to him as he wonders what it would take to change them.

All the girl offers is a shrug and a small smile around the straw, earning her a giggle from Tashi. 

“You know, we didn’t get a chance to see your match. What’s your name again?” Partick’s brows furrow as he glances between his friend and the two women. 

The smile drops from her face and her lips curve into a frown, cheek dimpling in a way that almost has the men forgetting she’d insulted them. “Wow.” she scoffs.

“You’ve got balls. You came to my party to talk shit to my best friend?”

That has them scrambling, stuttered half apologies from Art and sarcastic denials from Patrick. Anything they could blurt out to convince Tashi and her mystery friend to stay. All of it interrupted by their burst of giggles. 

“We’re just fucking with you.” The girl leans her head back against the cushion, puffing out laughter that makes Art’s head feel like it’s swimming. He blinks at the feeling and takes his own deep breath. “I’m Heaven, I’m nobody, I don’t play tennis.”

“Nobody? You don’t seem like nobody.” He doesn’t even recognize his own voice when he says it. 

“Nobody is nobody.” Patrick cuts in.

Tashi gives the girl a disapproving look that would put ice in the mens’ veins, pursing her lips in agitation briefly before turning back to the guys in front of them. “She’s Heaven Whitlock, she’s my best friend, and the best fuckin’ ballerina in the world.” 

Heaven lifts and drops her shoulder noncommittally, taking a deep sip of the drink. “Yeah. I’m the best fuckin’ ballerina in the world.”

The girls left soon after that so that Tashi could take pictures and once they were done, they were pleased to discover that the boys had waited to hang out with them more. The group made their way down to the beach and found themselves talking about all sorts of things. Life, Tashi’s earlier match, tennis as a spirituality. They were shocked to learn that Heaven knew a lot about the sport and could even play a little. But based on how they described it, she only knew enough to help Tashi train. 

Patrick felt aggravated and outnumbered by the fact that all three of the others were going to college. 

“Okay, so she doesn’t want her only skill to be hitting a ball with a racket. What the hell are you going to school for Miss Ballerina?”

“Train. I can get better.” Heaven shrugs. “Get my name out there too, before I join a company I mean.” 

“Can we see something?” Art blurts from his seat, shaking out the ash from his cigarette. “Like your favorite trick or-”

Heaven’s face lights up slightly. Her back has been straight up all night, her shoulders rolled back with poise, but she perks up in excitement at the thought of the opportunity to dance. “I like doing Fouette turns-”

“Heaven, in sand?” Tashi whips her head to look at her friend. “You don’t even have your shoes. You have your first audition for your school’s fall show when we get back don’t you?”

Heaven rolls her glossed lips inward, nodding, eyes dropping to the sand briefly before they return to the men in front of her. “Maybe another time.”

“Another time. There’s gonna be another time?” Patrick leans back in his seat, looking between the two women smugly. “Does that mean I’m gonna hear from you two again?”

“I’ll see Art at Stanford. Heaven will visit.” 

“He’s asking for your numbers.” Art offers. “So am I.”

Heaven’s brows furrow as she stands dusting sand off her hands before she helps pull Tashi to her feet. “Both of you?”

“Yep.”

“Want both of our numbers?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Oh, you boys really like to play doubles, huh?” She’s met with cheeky smiles and a shrug from Tashi. “Well, I have a boyfriend, so…” she grins, gesturing to Tashi. “May the best one win boys.”

The boys crane their necks briefly to follow Heaven’s walk up the hill, her sandals in hand, watching as she turns expectantly, holding out her other hand for Tashi to come up and take. They barely get out their offer for Tashi to come to their room later before she’s making her way up the hill. Her long legs carry her to her friend, whose hand she takes before swinging their arms back and forth, singing along together to whatever song is playing in the distance together.

As soon as they’re out of sight Patrick whips his head to face Art, a wild smirk on his face. 

“Which one do you want?”

“So…which one’s your favorite?” 

“Patrick’s got more natural talent, that’s for sure, but he’s stubborn, doesn’t wanna learn anything new. Art- what?” Tashi tilts her head at her friend’s scoff, moving to sit next to her at the small desk chair, watching as her friend rubs lotion into her face. “What?”

“Nothing, T, tell me about Art.” Heaven laughs, shaking her head. Tennis. Always about tennis. Poor boys. 

“Art wants it more right now. And he’s good. Could be great." She stands walking over to the closet and tugging on her jacket. “You set your alarm?”

“4:30, T. Gotta get our run in and practice for my audition before the tournaments start.” 

“Mm, good girl.” she smiles, dropping a kiss onto the top of Heaven’s head. “I’ll have my key.”

“You’re really going? You’re gonna go to their room?” Heaven turns in the seat and watches Tashi put on her shoes. The brunette pauses to look at her friend, walking over and crouching in front of her. Her hands rest on Heaven’s legs as she looks up at her.

“You jealous?”

“Want me to be?” Heaven asks, leaning her forehead against Tashi’s with a defiant look on her face. “I know you’re not gonna fuck them.”

“Really?” Tashi hums absently. “We’ll see. I’ll be back later. Why don’t you call Trevor while you have the room to yourself.”

With that she pats Heaven’s legs, pushing off of the floor and leaving her alone in the hotel room. 

Heaven takes her best friend’s advice. She calls her boyfriend. It was a mistake.

Trevor hates Tashi. He hates tennis. He hates dance. He hates everything. 

He didn’t use to. He used to think the girl’s dedication was cool. He used to love to come to showcases, recitals, even some of Tashi’s tournaments. But then he realized his place in everything. His place in Heaven’s life. Dance and Tashi, those two things would always come before him.

That’s the hard lesson everyone always had to learn. Tashi was always gonna win when it came to tennis and Heaven. Tashi was Heaven’s first…period. First best friend, first kiss, they’d taken each other’s virginities. They met in middle school. Heaven had been at the community center gym with her mother, running and doing weight training while her mom took a zumba class. Out on the court was Tashi. Beautiful and focused as ever. Heaven chose a treadmill that she could watch Tashi practice out the window from. She’d been startled when the taller girl came into the building and stood next to her machine and asked her if she knew anything about tennis and if she wanted to play. 

She wasn’t good. Tashi was determined to make her good enough to play with. Soon enough they were inseparable. Heaven would sit in the stands at Tashi’s games, yelling as loud as the girl playing when she won. Tashi would go to see Heaven dance, offering her applause when she won awards or starred in a show. Having Tashi was intense, but Heaven was intense too, in her own right. They were both passionate about their crafts, and loved the art of working hard. They liked making each other proud. 

Tashi was Heaven’s first everything except her first love. That was dance. Her muscles stretching into beautiful motions. Using her body to tell all kinds of stories. Becoming someone else entirely over the course of a song. Heaven would die if she couldn’t dance. 

She doesn’t feel like that about Trevor. He was a sweet guy, and she liked him. Despite Tashi’s constant digs that he wasn’t good enough or amounting to anything, Heaven liked him. Not everything has to be an intense feeling. Content can be good enough. I can be satisfied with content. 

But Trevor wished she would be normal. He wished she wasn’t so close to Tashi. He wished she wasn’t constantly working at something. At least that’s what he said when he dumped her over the phone. 

“Trev-Trevor. Trevor are you fucking serious?” 

Dial tone. 

Heaven’s lip curls up in frustration as she feels her eyes watering. She throws her phone against the wall, hearing the distinct crack of the screen. “Fuck. Fucking shit.” She…needs Tashi.

Pulling a baggy t-shirt over her sport’s bra and underwear she goes to the bathroom and rids herself of any evidence that she’d been crying before she heads to the room Tashi told her she’d be in. She creeps past her friend’s dad’s door so she doesn’t wake him and alert him that neither she nor Tashi were in bed. As she gets off the elevator on the boys’ floor she straightens as she goes to knock on the door, hearing the faint sounds of lips smacking and moaning. 

That makes her feel worse then she did when Trevor told her she wasn’t worth the hassle.

Heaven turns on her heel and goes back to the elevator. Her bare feet pad on the rug of the hotel hallway as she wraps her arms around herself until she gets back to her door. 

She ties her scarf around her hair before climbing into the bed the girls had been sharing, facing the window. The blinds rattle as the wind blows and the quiet tears on Heaven’s face are dry by the time Tashi slips into the room and into the bed behind Heaven. 

The bed dips slightly under her weight and suddenly hands are planted onto Heaven’s side. “Hev, I’m back…I had fun. Come on, I know you’re awake.”

“Cool.”

“I hooked up with them.”

Heaven turns then, laying on her back as Tashi leans over her, her hair making a curtain around her. “Which one?”

“Hmm…both. We didn’t have sex or anything but…I made out with both of them…and then they made out with each other. S’fun.” Tashi grins, flopping on her back next to her friend.

“They…ever done that before?”

“Nope” she smiles, popping the ‘p’ loudly. Both girls burst out into laughter as they think about the difference between their friendship and the two boys they met, so similar yet so different.

“You’re evil. You fucking homewrecker.”

“Ahh, they’ll be alright. It’ll be a good fuckin’ match tomorrow…winner gets my number.” 

Oh. 

“Trevor dumped me today.” 

Tashi turns on her side at that. Her ever-inspecting eyes scan Heaven’s face before narrowing a little. “No bullshit? Good fucking riddance. Should’ve dumped him when I told you to. Damn, would’ve been an even better match if I knew that earlier. Imagine how they’d play if the stakes were the winner gets both of us at the same time.” She laughs, putting her legs under the blankets. “It’d be fucking funny.”

“Yeah, T. Fucking hilarious.”

Tashi is at the courts by 5 am the next morning, and Heaven is running on the beach. She normally loves training with here friend, but right now, she needs a fucking break. Being drilled about the audition or talking about this deathmatch for Tashi’s phone number doesn’t feel like something she wants to do right now.

Still, her and Tashi’s workout playlist blasts in her ears as she fights the sand’s resistance, panting out breaths to Lose My Breath by Destiny’s Child. That is until she sees something moving out of the corner of her eye. 

It’s the blond one. She wasn’t sure which one’s name was which, but to her, the blond one was the cuter one. She liked his smile and he looked like he had a nice body under his baggy shirt yesterday. His tight athletic tank today shows her she’s right. Popping an earbud out, Heaven slows to jogging in place, offering him a smile. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, you’re up early, aren’t you?”

“Might not play tennis, but I’m still an athlete. I get up at 4:30 everyday. Clearly you do too.”

“Uh,” he adjusts his cap on his unruly blond hair before covering it back up, matching pace with her in her jog. “Not really, but the match is in a couple hours and I gotta explain to my family how to watch it. There’s a lot of them. And Patrick snores.”

“I see. Well, you’re gonna have to get used to it if you’re gonna get with Tashi.” His mouth opens and closes at that, like he’s shocked she knows he’s interested in her friend. “She told me about the stakes for today…and the other stuff.” 

He falters in his step at that, placing his hands on his hips as he laughs in disbelief, before pulling her shirt over his mouth for a second to hide his face, ears red. “You guys share everything, huh?”

“Apparently you do too.” Heaven laughs, pausing in her jog to stretch her leg when she feels tightness in it, bending over to work the muscles. If her eyes hadn’t slipped closed she would see Art’s eyes dart to her backside before looking away in an attempt to be respectful. He absently thinks that Patrick is right. Hot girls usually are friends with other hot girls. “But I’m rooting for you…uh…?”

“Oh, Art. I’m Art.” he breathes, willing his eyes not to slip again.

“Short for Arthur?”

“Um, yeah, but nobody calls me that. Except my grandma when I’m in trouble.” He blushes. Heaven straightens, and offers him a pretty smile.

“If one of you is gonna be seeing Tashi, I need to know your full name. I’m sure you can carry the speech to the other one too. If you hurt her, you die, I’ll kill you little white boy, you get it right?” 

“Right.” he hums, rocking on his feet. “So, you guys are close huh? She talked about you a lot last night. Fucking hates your boyfriend.”

“Yeah, well, she won’t have to worry about him anymore. Done. As of last night actually. Tashi was saying she wishes would’ve known that before your little bargain. Then, it would be both her and my number on the line. What can you do?” Heaven shrugs absently. She was flirting a little. Sue her. She’d just been dumped and was finally free to start having fun. All summer she’d been traveling with Tashi, being a good little doting girlfriend, turning down every hot guy she met. Only ever having one slip up, with Tashi. She knew they both were into her friend, she didn’t expect anything-

“So raise the stakes.” 

Heaven’s eyes widen as Art looks at her earnestly, looking embarrassed by his own words. “What?” she laughs.

“You can…definitely tell me to fuck off…but…we would be interested in having your number added to the…pot? Fuck, that sounds awful, Patrick and I want your number too. I want your number too. If that’s okay.”

“And you wanna play for it?”

“Those are the rules right?” 

Heaven observes the man in front of her. Boyish. Cute. And nervous. He doesn’t know how hot he is. Not like his friend. Not like Tashi. He doesn’t know what he looks like. And he seems sweet enough, nervous to offend them, but determined enough to push past the embarrassment to get what he wants. “Tashi’s rules. Not mine. Do you guys want to play for my number?”

His jaw sets slightly as he looks her up and down. “I wanna earn it.” 

“Okay, winner gets Tashi’s number. And mine.” 

[shegatsby]

Love Thy Enemy

Summary; Y/N Atreides had always been a stranger to the entire galaxy, her bed wasn’t her bed, her home wasn’t her home due to the fact that she was sent to accompany and be sisters with Irulan. She had limited access to her actual family and over the years they grew distant. She thought she would be like Reverend Mother, alone, yet powerful, and soon she would realize that there was no need of being alone when a wild creature had his eyes on her for a long time.

A/N; Couldn't wait, I had to post it lol. I hope you'll like it. Sorry for any typos. TAG LIST IS OPEN!!!!!! (Reader has a lover and Feyd's going to find out lol 😉😉😉) Don't forget to leave a comment.

Warnings; None. Female Bene Gesserit Reader x Feyd-Rautha, enemies to lovers! reader is reffered to as she/her.

Words; 2.417K

Chapter 3

Chapter Two ‘’Forcibles’’

The boy with pure eyes had grown into a tall muscular man with menace in his orbits. ‘’May I?’’ he asked not leaving his gaze from Pyramus, it wasn’t a request, it was an order and Pyramus who was coming from a small house couldn’t say no. Without a word he let go of Y/N, she felt empty. She was about to object, maybe excuse herself to rest but Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen acted quickly, like a snake he placed his hand on the small of her back and held her hand, she had no choice but to place her hand on his tense shoulder. His eyes so blue, ‘’How long has it been?’’ he asked, his boy voice was gone and classical Harkonnen tone made its home. Manly. ‘’I truly don’t remember.’’ She replied with a flat tone, couldn’t do anything but let him lead the dance. It had been only a minute and Y/N had every information she needed;

Predator

Dominant

Show off

His grip was strong, maybe he was sending a clear message to other houses. Y/N didn’t want to care but her Bene Gesserit training made it impossible not to care. ‘’You wound me.’’ He mocked. He was much taller than Pyramus. She had to look up to meet his icy blue gaze. Y/N noticed the looks they got, a Harkonnen is dancing with an Atreides…. Outrageous.

‘’I see you become a witch like your mother.’’ His tongue was a whip, was he trying to get a reaction out of her?

‘’I’ve heard you become a beast.’’ She was quick to answer, she felt the grip on her back tightened. Did she stroke a nerve? Good.

‘’If we were in Giedi Prime I would have your tongue.’’ He was amused and it made her more angry, ‘’Proves my point.’’

She noticed Irulan and Paul’s questioning look, they seemed shocked and concerned for Y/N. She gave them a small smile.

She felt like a black cobra snake swallowing her whole, Feyd-Rautha made sure to press her close to him, he wasn’t gentle like Pyramus, she looked but couldn’t see him, ‘’Looking for someone?’’ he sounded annoyed, Y/N heard how his mood changes quickly and she didn’t have time for an ugly scene. ‘’My friends. I assume you’re not familiar with the concept.’’ She thought maybe detesting Harkonnens were genetic. Feyd laughed hard which attracted stares around them, they were mostly concerned for Y/N Atreides. Up close, for a split second she saw that innocent boy but he disappeared.

The music ended and she excused herself, before she left Na-Baron grabbed her wrist, she turned in shock, what was he doing? He leaned and pressed a kiss on the back of her hand, the kiss felt so soft she couldn’t believe it was coming from Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. She bowed in courtesy and got away from his grip, she could feel his icy blue orbits on her back, stabbing her.

Irulan came to chat with her, ‘’What was that about?’’ Irulan didn’t want to attract any unwanted attention but she wasn’t the only one who witnessed that. ‘’What do you mean?’’ Y/N asked drinking her champagne, cold liquid made her more relaxed, ‘’Feyd-Rautha ate you with his eyes.’’ Irulan signed with her hands, didn’t want pointy ears to hear. ‘’He is an intense man. That’s all.’’ She signed back.

The night was too long for Y/N’s liking. Since she was a lady she had to stand by her family and talk to other houses about spice, politics, etc. She needed some air.

Y/N chose a balcony at the back, front ones were occupied, she inhaled deeply, her hands on the stone railings, ‘’Here you are.’’ Pyramus’s soft voice made her calm. They hugged, he immediately tried to kiss her but Y/N had to be careful, she moved her head and Pyramus’s thin lips landed on her cheek. He huffed in annoyance, ‘’How long we have to hide in the shadows?’’ he loved to whine. ‘’Soon I shall tell my family.’’ Y/N kept mustering up her courage and loosing it the last minute. It wasn’t going to be easy. Pyramus held her hands, ‘’Be mine, they can’t say anything then.’’

‘’I’m already yours.’’ She was confused,

‘’Be mine… fully.’’ His dark eyes looking for answers. ‘’Oh,’’ Y/N understood. ‘’I don’t know. We should head back.’’ She changed the topic. Before she could leave Pyramus didn’t let go of her hands, ‘’Think about it, please.’’

Y/N Atreides could hear the whispers; ‘’Did you see?’’

‘’Poor girl.’’

‘’They seemed a perfect match, how odd.’’

‘’Na-Baron seems interested…’’

She only held her head high, pretended like she was deaf. Long night came to an end, she felt so tired running from unwanted company, the Harkonnen boy. Her father had to talk to them, Y/N managed to ignore them.

Tossing and turning in her bed with questions in her busy mind she bolted to her feet. The palace was quiet, guests were fast asleep. Y/N wanted to talk to someone, someone who would understand.. she wore her white satin robe and left her bed chamber. Her family were staying at the guest wing, she knew Paul would be awake. Her footsteps echoed in the empty halls, glowglobes were on the walls, giving a dim light to the corridors, her Bene Gesserit training made her stop, someone was following her, she calmed her mind.

‘’Why so hasty?’’ a rough voice echoed behind her back. She turned to face the owner of the voice. Feyd-Rautha.

‘’I could ask you the same thing, my Na-Baron.’’ Her heart beat got faster as he approached hands in his back. His manner was predatory, observing his prey. His tunic was thin and loose, ‘’Why are you wandering so late at night, little dove?’’ pet name made her blood rise but she had to keep her calm. ‘’I don’t see why it is-‘’ he was circling her now, ‘’your business.’’ Feyd came to stop in front of her which made her look up to meet his eyes. He liked having the height advantage, he could sense her fear, so delicious. ‘’Witches and their secrets…’’ he leaned and whispered to her face, his breath hot. Y/N wanted to run away and hide from him but something in her told her that no matter what he would find her.

‘’I’m good at revealing secrets.’’ His left hand rose, his forefinger tracing her arm covered in satin, both of them felt the electricity. His eyes travelled on her chest and find their place on her eyes again. ‘’How is Pyramus?’’

Y/N had to be extremely careful, or her house’s honor could be at stake. ‘’I don’t know what you’re talking about Na-baron.’’ Her tone flat yet Feyd noticed her posture change. As if she was going into a trial by combat. Deep down he wondered how would it feel to be loved like this, he could feel the rise of jealousy… a member of an insignificant house could achieve her love so easily? No. he would not allow it. A sinister plan ran in his dark mind.

She wanted to wipe that arrogant smile on his face, ‘’I shall bid you good night.’’ With that she headed back to her room. Whenever she wanted to open up about Pyramus something would stop her…

When the morning came with its shiny sun and fresh smell of flowers she was having breakfast with her family. Padishah Emperor Shaddam made majority of the house leave and announced that after breakfast he would announce his decision.

‘’You seem upset my love, is everything all right?’’ Duke Leto asked gently, she hadn’t touched the food on her golden plate, she looked around, no one but her family. ‘’I’m in love with someone.’’ She unraveled, feeling the years of burden leaving her delicate shoulders. Leto and Paul were smiling but her mother’s face didn’t move a muscle. ‘’Who is the lucky gentleman?’’ Leto asked, ‘’Pyramus, from house-‘’

Jessica cut her short, ‘’That house?! Have you lost your mind?’’ Jessica knew that Reverend Mother had something else planned for Y/N. Bene Gesserit has been working for this union for years. ‘’Let’s not lose our temper.’’ Leto warned Jessica with a calm tone. ‘’They are a small house, it is true. If he is good enough for my daughter he is good enough for us.’’ He finished. ‘’Excuse me.’’ Everyone thought Jessica was leaving in anger but she was about to send a message to Reverend Mother an change the whole course of Y/N’s future.

Harkonnens were having breakfast together, Feyd-Rautha was so fed up with his obese uncle’s eating that he lost his appetite. Rabban was in his normal self, quiet and tense. ‘’I wonder who will be the princess’s husband.’’ Rabban said curiously, was he hoping? Feyd-Rautha was seated away from them, watching them like a hawk. He knew well that Shaddam would never take that risk, to send his one and only daughter to the hellhole called Giedi Prime? Not in a million years. ‘’One way or another he has to satisfy us.’’ Their uncle spoke with full mouth, Feyd had to look away, he could feel his bile coming up to his throat. He drank his wine to suppress. ‘’What do you think uncle?’’ Rabban asked, he kept trying to impress their uncle and failed miserably. Baron’s fat fingers were shiny with the bacon’s juice he was eating, ‘’I believe we won’t leave until we get something.’’

Their Mentat Piter de Vrives knocked on the door and walked in, ‘’My Baron, Emperor is expecting you and your nephews to the throne room.’’

Baron laughed, ‘’We shall be there.’’

The throne room was packed with lords and ladies that remained, including Reverend Mother Helen. Y/N didn’t remember seeing her last night’s ball. Strange. Y/N Atreides and her family arrived early, Padishah Emperor Shaddam spoke with her father Duke Leto in private. Behind the golden throne there was a door which opened to a small room where Shaddam’s office took place. When Duke Leto came back his face held grim, he refused to look at anyone but the Emperor, was that resentment? Emperor was seated on his golden throne which had colorful ornaments, on his right much smaller and silver throne was placed and Irulan was sitting on it. Looking like a statue, she was a strong woman. Reverend Mother was at Shaddam’s left, whispering into his ear. She was covered in black, just like Harkonnens.

Y/N noticed how old Shaddam got, every child at one point in their lives come to the realization of their parents’ old age. Emperor was a second father to her, a sudden whip to her heart she focused her eyes on the floor to prevent herself from crying. In order to keep her racing mind busy she looked around to see the remained houses. Pyramus was right there, she waved at her and Y/N waved back. He had a colorful suit, just like his personality. Pyramus and other low class houses were on the left side of the room, other old and powerful houses were on the right. Everyone watched the way Harkonnens entered, they were the last one to arrive. Baron Vladimir was a man of show off, he loved to show his power given any chance. Baron was at the front, Rabban and Feyd following behind, when Y/N saw Feyd-Rautha, her mind immediately went to last night’s events.

‘’Does he know me and Pyramus?’’ to be the first one to reveal the secret she had to tell it to her family this morning but she wasn’t sure anymore. All day Pyramus was after her asking how they reacted, she felt overwhelmed.

She wanted to be brave so Y/N watched them stand close to Atreides, Feyd-Rautha wasn’t shy of eye contact, as usual he was wearing his black suit, with his boots he looked much taller. Y/N watched him eye her up and down, she was wearing a dark blue dress, her arms and neck covered in dark blue laces, her head was tightly rounded like a ball on her head, a thin silver tiara was placed. She kept her posture high, she wasn’t going to shrink because of a Harkonnen, even though Feyd looked as if he could disintegrate her with his shiny blue eyes.

Shaddam rose to his feet, his regal robe sweeping the floor, ‘’Thank you for waiting so patiently,’’ everyone were focused, eager to hear his decision. ‘’I have decided that it was due time to choose a life partner for my one and only daughter. After last night I have consulted my daughter Irulan and the young gentleman that I choose is,’’ Y/N could feel the tension in the room, she slightly observed the room and Shaddam’s subjects were focused on him but one person. Feyd-Rautha, his snake eyes kept finding Y/N. Why did he look like he knew something that Y/N didn’t?

‘’Paul Atreides, from house Atreides.’’ Applauses could be heard, Y/N got positive energy from them last night so she wasn’t wrong. Irulan was her sister and Paul her brother, she knew that they would make each other happy. Paul walked to princes Irulan to kiss her hand. ‘’The wedding shall happen tomorrow.’’ The applauses died down, ‘’If you have no objections or requests you may be dismissed.’’ Shaddam announced, Y/N couldn’t wait to be left alone with Irulan and listen every detail.

‘’Emperor!’’ a man’s strong voice echoed in the throne room, ‘’I have a request.’’ Y/N turned to see Feyd-Rautha leaving his spot and slowly approaching to stand in the middle of the room, ‘’Come forth young Harkonnen.’’

Y/N had a bad feeling, this whole thing look staged, she turned to see her family’s reaction. Duke Leto, again, trying so hard to avoid her, Lady Jessica smiled at her. Y/N was puzzled, ‘’This is for the best.’’ She signed to her daughter.

Feyd-Rautha did what Shaddam said, before he knelt in front of the Emperor he gave a last look to her.

‘’What is it that you request?’’ Shaddam’s calmness irritated Y/N.

‘’Since you raised her as one of your own it is best to ask your permission,’’ Feyd paused to get more reaction from his spectators, his head was down but after that pause he tilted his head and look into Shaddam’s eyes. Shaddam had never seen such power in a young boy before. Baron did a great job.

‘’I demand Lady Y/N Atreides’s hand in marriage.’’

TAG LIST;

@superchatnoir07

@mamawiggers1980

@landlockedmermaid77

@moonsoulk

@crystalskiesandcherrywine

Thank you for reading. :)

[burningcheese-merchant]

Yes,more please!

More Yandere Beast stuff? At your service, three short headcanons for each one

SHADOW MILK

Has one specific Pure Vanilla puppet that he treasures and never brings any harm to. It's the most well-crafted and detailed one of all. He calls it his Mini Silly-Vanilly and he makes it and the puppet he also made of himself kiss and do NSFW things

Tries to be A Bro™️ and help his fellow yanderes win over their respective loves. He eggs them on when they feel like ranting and raving about their love lives (or maybe he just likes gossip and drama idk), helps mastermind courting plans, gives romantic advice of dubious quality, solicited and not (mostly not). His help gets mixed reactions. Tough crowd :/

Already planned their wedding way in advance, but keeps making changes because he's always hit with new inspiration (making them playfully chase each other all the way up the stairs of the Spire of Truth and Deceit, and publicly executing their enemies in increasingly ridiculous ways are staying put, though)

ETERNAL SUGAR

Got Shadow Milk to make her a Hollyberry body pillow. It's nice, but she ended up tired of it really quickly. She wants the real Hollyberry to snuggle and squeeze and use as a pillow. (She still uses the body pillow though)

Would very much like to steal Holly's dresses and wear them herself, even if they might not fit. Would also like a lock or two of her hair to put in a necklace, or make into a bracelet, or weave into the strings of her harp (wtf lol)

Has mastered dozens of love songs on her harp, both written and composed by others and by she herself, all to be played and sung to Holly. A significant portion of them are very dark and unsettling, but she either doesn't notice or doesn't care

MYSTIC FLOUR

Once thought of the concept of playing "strip Go" (like strip poker, just with Go) with Dark Cacao. No one has ever seen her turn so red before. She immediately barricaded herself in her room and did not come out for almost a whole week

Keeps replaying that moment where he was beaten and on his knees and she was caressing his cheek, tempting him to look up and into her eyes, in her mind over and over and over and over and over and over again. It has practically tattooed itself to the insides of her eyelids. She can't make it stop nor does she want to

Ends up wandering along the exact same path through the mountains that Cacao took while he was lost and alone whenever she leaves the Ivory Pagoda. Some deranged part of her insists that she might find him again if she keeps looking, and the other, equally deranged parts of her seem to agree...

BURNING SPICE

Absolutely fucking loses his shit if and when any of the Wild Spices speak ill of Golden Cheese at all. He can roast her all he wants, but the second anyone else tries, he 180s to "KEEP MY WIFE'S NAME OUT YO FUCKIN MOUTH" mode

Is so out of his goddamn mind that he's already attuned himself to both Golden's aura and her scent, so he can literally track her and hunt her down like a ravenous animal no matter where she goes. He is a predator in the truest sense of the word

Also often fantasizes about marrying Golden, like how Milk wants to marry Vanilla. But what he thinks the most about is the wedding night... and the night after that, too. And the night after that. Every night is going to be their wedding night, once he gets his hands on her... Every single fucking night

SILENT SALT

Keeps trying to write White Lily letters and poems detailing his feelings. They keep coming out wrong (aka they are extremely long and rambling, not to mention fucking weird and creepy), so he keeps throwing them away and starting over repeatedly

Has considered learning magic to impress Lily, but can't get the hang of it. (Has also tried to brew a love potion for her, but can't get the hang of that, either)

He never takes that helmet off, but his stare is nevertheless so damn pointed and downright oppressive that Lily can sense whenever he's watching her, even if he's dozens of feet away and she can't even spot where he is. He comes out when she asks him to, at least...

[lycheedr3ams]

ℑ𝔩𝔩 𝔐𝔢𝔱 𝔟𝔶 𝔐𝔬𝔬𝔫𝔩𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱

werewolf!könig x fem!reader

Prologue | October 29th | October 30th | October 31st

Summary: You're a bakery worker in the small, isolated town of Heiligenblut, Austria. König is a hunter and lumberjack who stays to himself and always has an aura of mystery and darkness. and through a series of strange circumstances, you're the one to uncover his secret. (set in the modern-day) CW: fem she/her reader, no use of y/n, adult content, predator/prey dynamics, werewolf-fucking, mentions of animal carcasses and blood, a bit unsettling at times, slight dub-con Note: IM SO SORRY IT TOOK THIS LONG BUT I FINALLY DID IT! also here's the link to the rest of the series if this is your first time finding it

WC: idk

LORE EXPLANATION, READ BEFORE PROCEEDING: i had to make up some of my own werewolf lore mixed with real world history, so plz bear with me: when a werewolf falls in love with someone, and that person also falls for them, the werewolf becomes spiritually tied to this person. when this spiritual connection is created, the werewolf's ties to the spiritual realms are interrupted. the werewolf must physically bond with the person whom the feelings are mutual with to restore the werewolf's connection to the other realms. Halloween is the day when that veil between our world and the spiritual one is thinned, allowing for connections to take place. this is why people always wore costumes: to scare off the ghosts that came onto our plane during this time. i can't say anything else without spoiling it, just know most of this is NOT from folklore, i just made up my own werewolf lore bc plot~

this is the last part! get ready for some werewolf sex lol.. I felt kinda weird writing this, plz don't judge

IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK ME A YEAR

previously on October 30th...

könig slowly closed the distance between you two, his arms returning to his sides. you looked up at him, feeling a bit jumpy; he had been so unpredictable this whole night. he placed his large hands on your shoulders, engulfing each one, and gently pressed his fingers into you. his attempt at holding you close, maybe? but his arms seemed to tremble, and his breathing was shaky and loud, almost like he was a crazed man. you leaned away a little, but könig brought his masked mouth to your hear.

"please," he whispered desperately into your ear, his voice slightly cracking. his entire body trembled before you. "please help me."

October 31st - midnight

you looked at könig with your head slightly tiled to the side. help him? "what do you mean?" you asked. "if you're talking about hunting, I can't help you with that."

könig pressed his fingers into your shoulders a little more, his large form trembling. "yes, actually, you can." he said cryptically.

you glanced around his cabin. there were no guns, no bows or arrows, no traps, nothing at all that looked like it could remotely kill a deer or wild boar. könig sensed your hesitation.

"do not be afraid," he said through gritted teeth. he took a few steps back from you, his arm wrapped around his stomach almost as if he was going to throw up. your eyes widened.

"what's wrong? are you sick?" you took a few steps towards him, but he stepped back again.

"don't get any closer...not yet," he said quietly. he looked at you from the corner of his eye. you had thought his eyes were brown, but maybe it was the lighting that seemed to turn them golden.

"könig, just tell me what's going on! the whole town is wondering what happened to you and why there's no feast for Halloween!"

König's demeanor shifted, and a noticeable tremor ran through his spine. it almost looked like he was convulsing, or being possessed by something. your heart skipped.

"ah, so that's what they say?" his voice was suddenly more menacing, the words almost coming out as a snarl. "they think I am incapable. sheep begrudging the wolf."

“Um… well, just tell me what’s going on,” you offered with a shaky voice.

König stared at you for a long moment, his eyes narrowing as he thought. “You won’t believe me” he huffed out.

“Try me.”

…

König’s demeanor grew nervous for a moment. He fidgeted with something in his pocket and his eyes darted around. “I’ve just been having a problem.”

“With what? Just tell me König” you said pleadingly.

“Have you ever wondered why I always catch the best meat out of the other hunters? Why I’m so solitary, why I never train anyone to hunt with me?”

You took a shaky breath in. “Yes, I have.”

König’s chest tightened. “It’s… because…because I’m a werewolf,” he said in his thick Austrian accent.

You froze, and couldn’t help laughing for a moment. “König, werewolves aren’t real.”

“They are!” He yelled, causing you to shrink back in fear. He slumped his shoulders and stepped back, regret clear in his eyes. “They are real. But I can’t show you because of my problem.”

You stared at König with an incredulous expression. Why the hell was he saying he’s a werewolf? But if you thought about it, if anyone was a werewolf, it definitely would be him.

“Okay. So you’re a werewolf” you repeat. “How could I possibly help you with that?”

König’s cheeks reddened slightly under his mask, an expression you had never seen from him before.

“It’s… hard to explain. I swear I’m not making it up.”

You nodded. “Just tell me.”

König took a long breath before fidgeting with something in his pocket again. His eyes were averted from yours as he spoke.

“When a werewolf… falls for a human, their soul becomes tied to them. I know it sounds crazy,” König stared pacing around the cabin, his steel-toed boots thudding against the tattered wood flooring. “The werewolf can’t transform until they know their feelings have been returned. But that’s not all of it.”

You stood silently, waiting for him to continue. He took another deep breath.

“The werewolf can’t transform out of his human state until he… he…” König looks away, almost shamefully. “Until he is intimate with the object of his affection.”

Your heart skipped and your cheeks got hot. Intimate? “Like….”

“Ja,” König nodded. “Like… that.”

You blushed. “So let me get this straight. You’re a werewolf. You’ve secretly liked me but didn’t know I liked you back. You can’t transform into a werewolf again until you’re intimate with me?”

“…Ja” König said flatly after a pause.

“This… this is insane,” you said.

“I know it sounds insane. But listen, bitte” he almost pleaded. “The reason why I haven’t gotten any prey for the festival, the reason everyone is doubting me, is because I can’t transform. And it’s all because I fell for you.”

You took a deep breath. “So if we’re intimate, you can become a werewolf and hunt again?”

“Ja,” König said.

“Fine. All right.”

König’s eyes seemed to light up. “Really? Do you agree?”

“I do,” you said with a nod. “If it means everything will go back to normal, then I will. I mean, I can’t lie… I’ve wanted to do this with you for a while now.”

König’s eyes turned predatory, and you thought you nearly saw a wolf in that moment.

…

König restrained himself as much as he could. He helped you onto the bed and hovered over you, his body heat emanating in waves. Your breathing instantly deepened. Just the presence of König from over the bakery counter was intimidating, but having this beast of a man on top of you? You thought you could’ve turned tail and ran.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked as he tilted your chin up with his index finger. You nodded breathlessly, and he didn’t waste a moment before pressing his chapped lips onto your soft ones. you thought he must've been starving with the way he was gently gnawing on your plush bottom lip, or with the way he lapped at your mouth when you parted your lips for him. you tried to back away slightly, just to catch your breath, but he held the back of your head firmly with his large palm, his fingers slightly digging into your scalp as he smushed his face into yours. when konig was finally out of breath, he looked at you with wide eyes, and you wiped your cheeks clean with your sleeve.

the air was thick with tension, nothing but the sound of the crackling fire and wind in the trees to fill the silence. until suddenly, konig pounced on you. his kisses were even sloppier than before, his large body pinning you down on the deer-fur carpet on the cabin floor. he hastily yanked at your clothes, growling when they got in his way. you helped him take off your clothes, but he was too eager and didn't even wait until you were fully nude. your panties hung on one of your ankles, one bra strap still clung to your shoulder.

konig looked at you with the most desperate look a man had ever given you. his eyes were half-lidded, and his lips half-parted as he breathed heavily from between them.

"you ready, ja?" he asked as he unceremoniously ran two fingers between your lips, feeling your warm slick. you mewled, not expecting the pleasure from his rough, calloused fingers so soon. he looked at you, almost with intrigue, as he teasingly rubbed your clit. you squirmed slightly, your eyes shutting as you moaned. but konig couldn't wait for you to orgasm. he tugged his pants zipper down, not even bothering to undress at all.

"i can't wait, i need you now". he parted your pussy lips with his large fingers and sunk into your slick, wet heat. you both moaned in unison at the delicious stretch of his cock.

he tried to be gentle at first. he really did. but he finally had you. he couldn't hold back, not at all. the filthy, wet, sticky sounds of your coupling filled the cabin as he rutted into you like a rabid animal. he grunted when he saw your breasts heaving with his thrusts, knowing that you were feeling so good because of him.

his grunts filled your ears as he pinned you up and open, your knees by your ears. his head was bent next to yours, forehead on the floor as he pounded into you. he gasped and groaned, feeling your warm, tight, wet heat around him. your face was contorted in ecstasy, your toes curling.

but suddenly, konig's eyes seemed to...change color? he groaned loudly, almost as in pain, and you felt fur rather than his sweat-slicked skin against your chest. before you understood what was happening, konig had transformed into a werewolf. even though konig had explained to you what he really was, you hadn't expected this of all things, for him to turn into a werewolf while he was fucking you.

but the pleasure he was now giving you, with his large, girthy cock was just enough to completely make you unable to think. all you could do was take, take the pounding that this man-beast was now giving you. You didn’t even have the brain power to think about any embarrassing faces or noises you were making from the sheer pressure and heat and force that his cock was giving you. The rickety wood of the floorboards creaked rhythmically as konig, in full werewolf form, fucked you on the floor of his cabin.

His fucking was not gentle, and it was so intense and loud and hot that it made you see stars. One of konigs large, half-human half-beast paws gripped the back of your head when it tipped back against the floor. His claws gently pricked at the edge of your years, causing your spine to tingle and your walls to flutter. It was single-handedly the worst and best physical sensation you had ever experienced.

His growls sounded in your ear as his thrusts lost their rhythm and grew erratic. You heard garbled words in your ear as he tried to speak with his wolf muzzle, but you couldn’t make out any words. You pulled on the fur of his back as he mated with you, your toes curling in the air and back arching at the delicious feeling of his werewolf cock inside you.

Suddenly, his cock went deeper and what you now realized was his knot slipped into you. You gasped from the slight burn of the stretch, but your insides were quickly soothed when he came inside you, a pleasant and full warm feeling that leaked out from where you two were joined. You panted as if you had just sprinted, while his breaths came in huffs from between sharp, gritted teeth. You closed your eyes for how long you weren’t sure, and konig was human again when you came to, lying naked beside you.

“I must hunt.” He said matter of factly as he stood up and got dressed. “Are you okay?”

You couldn’t find the words to speak, not after everything that had happened. Not only did you just fuck the untouchable konig, you fucked the untouchable werewolf konig.

“How…am I dreaming?” You asked.

Konig leaned down beside you and brushed your hair away from your face. “Nein, you are not dreaming. It is real. I will be back. Stay here.”

And just like that, konig left the cabin in the dead of night.

…

You awoke the next morning lying in konigs bed, covered in soft fur blankets. You blinked open your eyes and saw konig sitting by the fireplace, staring into the flames. His normal black face mask was back on, and his eyes widened when he saw you were awake.

“Are you hungry?” He asked simply.

You nodded. Konig got to fixing you a plate of food, fresh catch from what you assumed was his hunt last night. He kneeled down next to the bed and gently, almost reverently, placed the plate in your lap. He watched you as you ate.

Konig cleared his throat. “Because of you…I was able to bring meat back for the festival. I hunted all I could, and the festival went on.”

You nodded, not really sure what to say. Konig noticed.

“I know you must be thinking about a lot right now. Just eat. Everything will be okay. I am not a monster.” The crinkle in the corner of his eyes betrayed a smile hidden underneath that face mask.

You smiled and shook your head, realizing how sore your body was from the events of last night. You supposed that konigs secret didn’t matter, as long as you got to benefit from it every full moon.

Thank you all for being here

taglist: @osteawb, @sleepystaarr, @vvampir3s, @simpxinnie, @majocookie, @sharkyyyyyyyyyyyy, @marysdelrey, @kybeth5, @chaos-on-stand-bi, @shannonswizzies, @arcadia509, @bloodstoneruby, @cumikering, @skystreamchan, @junkratssheila-09, @kit-williams, @tangerynsbaby, @dreamdiaries777, @royalbxstxrd, @non-satanic-panic, @theweirdchick, @kiyomisan, @maylif, @mortimoshi, @eneiss, @daughter-ofthe-forest, @celi-xxmoon, @mangoguy, @babypeanut02

[jellicatty]

❝ THE OTHER WOMAN ₊˚ ❞

A tale of an unfortunate woman— cursed with a lonesome life, pouring all of her love to a wretched and unfaithful man.

╰┈➤ contains : sukuna x female reader. cheater! sukuna. toxic relationship. other woman is mean. written in other woman's pov. third pov. sfw-ish. angst.

╰┈➤ note : unedited because this was from my archives + wrote this two years ago lol. this fic is inspired by Lana del Rey's The Other Woman ! I loved the song so I used it for some inspo hini >____<

Oh, other woman, how lonely you must be.

The other woman has time to manicure her nails

The other woman is perfect where her rival fails

And she's never seen with pin curls in her hair, anywhere.

She’s fresh from the boutique; luxury draped around her form. From head to toe, was the old money of the famous businessman— Sukuna Ryomen. Pride swelled on her chest at the sight of measly women with their cheap brands. She felt perfect amongst the sea of the low-cost. Though among piles of garbage, hidden jewelry resides.

Her eyes held the usual disgust and her ego stood tall, yet the doubts at her head fought for their lives. Face to face, was the wife of her beloved. She looked so spent, her beauty slowly fading with the times. They acknowledged each other’s presence as poor Y/n thought of her as a very lovely woman.

The other woman enchants her clothes with French perfume

The other woman keeps fresh cut flowers in each room

There are never toys that's scattered everywhere

The flower endured even the harshest of her tenor.

Suddenly, the woman’s sour mood turned sweet, her eyes scanning the bags and bags of expensive jewelry. But all of it didn’t matter to her. The woman in love quickly searched for the concealed letter, her heart fluttering once touching the rough, sealed paper.

And she read it, repeated it, hated it.

It was unfair.

How unfair it was for her to receive only letters. His touch, lonely woman yearned for his touch. Gritting her teeth, the woman let anger control her until red no longer consumed her body.

Amongst the ripped bags, was the other woman who desperately called for his love. But the woman knew he was busy with his own children, tending to them with his pitiful spouse, surrounded by numerous toys and annoying cries of her own devil spawns.

And when her old man comes to call

He finds her waiting like a lonesome queen

'Cause to be by her side

It's such a change from old routine

Most would run away with fear in their eyes once taking a quick look at his monstrous stature. But, her love clouded her mind. Instead of fear, it was adoration— heart erratic at his predator-like stare.

“Sukuna, my darling, how are you-”

“Who told you to speak?”

His words were enough to make her obediently follow. She was such a pet for him; all nice and loyal. To her, no action can be enough of a sign that love was not present. She was too far gone in her own fantasies. Too far gone in imagining his eyes lit up the same way hers do.

Although his eyes do shine, they do so with an obviously evil haze to it. His malicious intent clearly displayed within his cold gaze, and only a fool would ignore them.

But, the other woman is a fool.

A fool for offering herself to a man.

She didn’t question his order any further, only getting straight to undressing herself in front of his dark gaze. Used woman was useful, she served as his distressor, an enjoyment inside his boring life. No children, no toys, no cries, no demands, no complaints, no questions asked.

Between them was no love, only entertainment. Because to be by her side, is a change from his old routine.

Clueless woman thought otherwise.

But the other woman will always cry herself to sleep

The other woman will never have his love to keep

Other woman, why can't you just see?

His love was not yours, it never was.

His steel eyes will never search for yours. No rough hands will grasp your body tonight, for it will only be against his darling’s plush skin. His attention will not be at your seducing red gown or the skin that showed. His focus will only be on his darling’s enhanting dress that showed their uneven curves and cured insecurities.

Is it clearer now? Now, when Y/n's form is tightly pressed against Sukuna's, looking at you with those eyes? While their bodies slowly dance under the dim lights? Oh, she knows. Their gaze at you is unsettling, full of hatred for claiming what’s not yours.

And as the years go by the other woman

Stop dancing on the bridge. There’s no one beside you.

Will spend her life alone

You fell? How pitiful. No imagination can save you now.

Alone

The only cure for loneliness is death, right?

Alone

© jellicatty | no plagiarising please (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

[iznsfw]

Fic idea: Mommy contest eunbi vs irene

Predator & Prey

Part Four of Dulce Periculum | Previous Part | Next Chapter

Red Velvet's Bae Joohyun (Irene) x IZ*ONE's Kwon Eunbi x Male Reader Smut

7,994 words

Categories | principal!Irene x (jealous)girlfriend!Eunbi x student!You, mommy kink, cunnilingus, oral double blowjob, snowballing, cumswap, degradation, female cucking

Surprise, it was a spoiler! Had to move the time to avoid posting in the night lol So... this is dedicated to @subfortwice, who ignites the Dulce Periculum universe, @idevian whose tutor Eunbi ask started it all, to my birthday twin @eunbisrabbit who had the idea of the collarbone thing, and to best boi @sinswithpleasure. I appreciate everything and every one of you guys! And again, sorry for the usual self-indulgent style that the whole Dulce Periculum series is based on XD and the barely edited fic. Eunrene just drive me crazy

“You little brat.”

That’s the first thing you say the next time you see Eunbi at school. Not even a “hi” or a “how are you,” but when she’s set you up to fuck her teacher and led you into a trap, it’s definitely a nice way to open your little story. This tiny little thing of a story going down, down, down the rabbit hole. 

(Holes.)

It’s all her fault. She’s conveniently fended off your questioning of the incident at the Kwon household. Now, however, with her parents nowhere to save her from your schemes, you’ve got your eyes on her. Soon, your hands will be, too. She can’t escape now. 

Eunbi squeals in fear and excitement when you run after her. Alright, so maybe she can escape. That’s fair. You bump through masses of walking students, trying to find her in the crowd. It's impossible to not identify her when her glasses and wavy hair give her away, so your eyes remain locked on her like a sniper. Your hands just itch to get on her. 

Students pass you weird and amused looks. You and Eunbi, after all, are always on some dumb shit. However, you care not for it especially if ignoring them leads you to finally cornering your girlfriend in the backyard school garden. It's a dead end—no windows or doors are here for her to attract help. She's laughing, too, and screaming a little as you pin her to the high school building wall. 

"Mmm, oppa," she giggles between her squirms and struggles, "stop—"

"You think you were slick, Eunbi?" you ask. Your fist keeps her wrists above her head. What a pretty little twist of fate—if she lured you into the trap that's Kim Taeyeon, now you're the one tying her up into your makeshift trap. It's more satisfying than seeing Jo Yuri get scolded. "For whoring me out to that teacher you're so obsessed with?"

She nods mindlessly. "Yesss."

"Brat." Kiss her. She giggles. Of course, that prompts several other kisses. "That's what you are, you know. A little fucking brat." 

Your chest fills with happiness at how she smiles and laughs despite your teasing words. She knows you'd never do anything to hurt her. It's all a little fun play of words. A little skit, to be more truthful. 

Speaking of, there's some factualness to your words, too, and she knows it. Eunbi's crushed on Taeyeon for too long and sees her as an actual mommy that she isn't jealous of your little getaway with her at all. She's probably prouder than you'd assume of her idea. 

But of course, she denies it. Denies it with every inch of her annoyingly gorgeous body.

"Can you please forgive me, oppa?" Eunbi's eyes gleam. "I promise I won't slut you out to mommy again, I pinky promise!"

She's wearing the uniform Taeyeon borrowed, and thinking of how there's still some of your teacher on it, that there's a good amount of your cum embedded into its fabric, makes you more turned on than you should. Eunbi with her arms up in her tiny uniform is an added factor. 

But then there's also a few more classes to attend. You can't fuck her here. You'd love to more than anything, yet Eunbi has her priorities, and you don't want to hold her back.

Release her hands. "One day I'll get back at you," you warn. "You're really gonna get it."

You let her off with a warning. You can be the cop here—you'd cuff her hands with your fingers, tack them to a wall or mattress, teach her a lesson. Tear that cheeky smile off her face and replace it with the lewdest expression. But you're a good cop, or at least, as good as one can get. You know it's what she wants: to be punished incessantly, so you're not giving it to her. It would be putting out fire with fire.

You turn her heel to leave. Like so, you leave her unfulfilled and needy, which is exactly how you want her to be.

"Oppa!" whines Eunbi. She runs after you. "I'm sorry!"

You shut your eyes and laugh. In hindsight, you really shouldn't have. It would have shown you a dash of a shadow mooring and watching, and prepared you for what will happen later on. 

-

Let's just say later on a letter is written. You and Eunbi don't know it yet, but there is a letter—it's written in rehearsed formality, sent to the principal's office, and given by a person who's got more control than they should have. 

So, again, just for context: there's real parchment sent to her that ties this whole story together. There's a dual meeting, and a whole lot of evidence. Keep that in mind.

-

It's one giant teenage hell in the classroom.

The boys are gaming on their phones with the Filipino exchange student, who introduced them to League of Legends. The girls have flocked to the bathrooms arm in arm, while the others stay behind to braid some of their classmates’ hair. There’s messy chalked writing on the blackboard, some too explicit to even be allowed (“Wan-pipty for wan subo," courtesy of the Filipino student, of course, and although you don’t understand his language, you have a good idea of what it means), and others promoting their favorite K-pop groups (“stan BLACKPINK, you uncultured fucks!!!!!”, to which someone has replied: “Doesn’t everyone?”).

But what else can you expect from a batch of eighteen-year-olds, especially when it’s vacant time? 

That's right: exactly this.

Either-which-way, it’s a complete mess, is what you’re saying. There's no one around to keep the noisy mess contained, not even Eunbi, who's trying to vent her frustration through doodling on her notebook. She’s already drawn several plotless comics and a rabbit named Bi, but the noise still gets to her. It irks her soul so much that her hands squeeze up and loosen too much of a grasp on her pen.

Click. It bounces back up. You catch it with one swoop of your hand. You could be Spiderman in another life. Watch out, Tom Holland, or whatever. 

“God,” she says, looking up from her notebook with a frustrated, sarcastic smile, “do these people ever shut up?”

You chuckle. You’re an open fan of Eunbi breaking her kind, forgiving character and just growing tired of everyone’s bullshit. It’s an occurrence rarer than thunder coming before lightning, a once-in-a-lifetime show only a select few are allowed to see. She’s too kind, really, that although she's the lead role, she bails out of it often.

Gesture to the messy classroom and say, in a matter-of-fact voice: “Welcome to senior year.”

“Can you tell them to be quiet?” she asks.

“Miss Myoui said only you can.” Quote her: “‘You’re the president, right? You go tell ‘em.’”

Right, Eunbi says to herself. She’s been wrapped up in too many responsibilities—captain of the volleyball team, president of every school club you can think of, plus end-of-the-year valedictorian just to name a few—that she forgets that these positions even hold meaning. It’s the norm for her to be given the highest positions in each category that it’s quite tiring, if she were to be honest. But she has her mother to please, along with herself. She can’t let either of them down.

Sighing, she leans back into her chair. “I just wish everything would, like, stop for a moment.” She closes her eyes, as if to dream of that being possible. Unfortunately, the world goes on with or without the fantasizing. “I wish I could get a break.”

“Hey.” You pat her thigh and caress it above her short school skirt. “Cheer up. You don’t have to be so excellent all the time. You can just,” wring a hand in the air for emphasis, “you know, be okay. Average.”

“But my mom…” 

Sigh. You realize it’s easier said than done. While your parents are lenient and have gotten used to your low grades, your girlfriend’s aren’t that nice. You know that from your visits to the Kwon household. Her mother and father try to be subtle about the pressure, but there’s something in the air that passes and tenses that tells you there’s a lot more to the situation than you think. Whatever it is, it's clear that being a Kwon isn't that fun.

Sometimes you wish you could trade places with Eunbi and withstand her problems for her. You hate seeing her like this. 

“Your mom?” a menacing new voice asks. “Or would you rather say… mommy?”

Eunbi’s eyes open suddenly and enlarge. She recognizes that word, and unfortunately, she remembers using it on someone she shouldn't have been with. So do you, for which you turn your gaze upwards. 

Of course it’s Jo Yuri. She’s your mortal enemy dressed in deceiving innocent school uniform. She’s wearing a knowing smile on her face. It always means bad news, and right now, the main topic of it is you. 

What does she know? Most importantly: why did she say that? 

In your anxiety, you can’t even defend yourself or your girlfriend.

“Y-Yuri—” stammers Eunbi, the look in her eyes being one of a deer caught in headlights. She’s a terrible liar at heart, so even if she were able to finish her sentence, it would have come out oddly. Probably even add up to proof of her guilt.

Yuri smirks proudly. “I know all about your dirty little secret, Eunbi,” she says. “About what you did with professor Kim while everyone was at the Intrams… about what you called her…”

Every step she takes rounding your cluster spells trouble, and you can’t say you didn’t bring it upon yourself. However, you're still scared to death.

“Cut it,” you say. Even for a troublemaker, your voice trembles. Not a good look… er, sound, rather. “We don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Your head races with anxious thoughts and distress. How did Yuri know about that little session you had with Taeyeon? Were you guys that loud? Perhaps she had a source or spy nearby? You've no idea which one it is, and that's what scares you more than the consequences.

Eunbi's silent, refusing to speak. She looks anywhere but Yuri's eyes. Her ears are red and it's impossible to denote anything from the two of you but obvious guilt.

“Oh, is that so?” Yuri pouts mockingly. "Guess you'll have no reason to talk to principal Bae right"—she checks her watch, then smiles widely—"now."

The speaker attached to the wall of your classroom buzzes, catches the attention of everyone and says: "Will miss Kwon from 12-A and her boyfriend please come down to the principal's office?"

Okay, so maybe you are scared of the consequences just as much as you're scared of how Yuri found out.

Everyone's looking at you now. How could you feel so cold yet so hot at the same time? Everybody's eyes are burning holes in your skin, and your spine's undergone several chills that you feel numb already. 

Are you even alive? 

Your breaths are bated and Eunbi's shifting in her seat nervously. You should have seen this happening. Yuri's had a vendetta against the two of you ever since you and Eunbi got together. She's haughty, she's proud, she's rich—and for that, she's got her sources everywhere, can even manipulate official school results through pure influence. You hate yourself for being a terrible boyfriend and letting this happen to Eunbi. 

Yuri smiles as you and Eunbi rise from your seats. She waves goodbye at you coyly, and leaves everyone in the room confused. Each one of them, even the boys gaming at the back, are wondering the same thing word-for-word: what happened?

-

You don't speak while taking the stairs with her, and neither does she. You don't tell her that you're dizzy from the curving paths and she doesn't say how cold her hands are. However, you both know so, since you're both reluctant and afraid to meet the principal and didn't expect it to reach this point. It's your fault and hers, equally split, the modern day Adam and Eve. Could Yuri be the snake? Would God banish you? 

Probably, but you had it coming.

The steps you take are slow. You're afraid of what might come. But you suppose nobody's more afraid than Eunbi. She's the face of the school for the honors she's achieved. Everything can go wrong with one wrong move, and that's what this is. She put everything on the line, not expecting anything to happen, only for it to be taken all away.

Once you reach the ground floor, Eunbi suddenly grabs your wrist. Her small hand can only wrap around half of it, but her hold is tight. It carries meaning in its tightness, urging you to look at her.

"Oppa, j-just want to say…" She looks down at her school shoes in shame. "I'm sorry for pulling you into this."

You're not mad at her. You can never be. You're just… regretful. If you hadn't let lust propel your actions, maybe there wouldn't be reason for the two of you to be down here. You've been sent to the principal's office countless times, but this is the first time you're actually scared. What more when it's with Eunbi? She's never gotten in trouble before.

"Don't be," is all you say. "Let's just get it over with, okay? Together?" 

Mold your hand to fit hers, and she's smiling again, in spite of what's about to come.

You make the first move to knock. Eunbi nearly cries as she watches your knuckles meet wood. You wrap an arm around her and enter.

Long time, no see. Bae Irene's office is as grand as ever. Seems like this is where the tuition fees go: grand marble floors, a statue of a naked Greek goddess, and a fine desk that sits in the center of the room. Certificates, awards, and medals stack the shelves and walls that put even Eunbi's achievements to shame. Perhaps they're what intimidate her more than the woman standing in front of the desk.

"Good afternoon, miss Bae," you say. 

In certain angles, the principal looks just like Eunbi. Or maybe it's the other way around? The glasses don't help differentiate them. That makes you understand why people have a theory that there's a kind of narcissism in Irene that made her put Eunbi as the face of the school. 

What else can you expect from Irene, anyway? She's older, wiser, and tougher. The last one bears repeating. That by itself should be good enough justification as to why you shouldn't have fucked Taeyeon, why you shouldn't be such a troublemaker. God knows she's tired of seeing your face in here. She’d expect Eunbi would have a good influence on you, but instead, you've turned your poor girlfriend into a nymphomaniac. 

Maybe everything about this is your fault after all.

Irene knows this. "You've turned your girlfriend into one of yours, hm?" she asks. Rhetorical question or not, all three of you know the answer. "First time seeing you here, miss Kwon."

"Miss Bae," says Eunbi timidly. She's trying a diplomatic approach here—it's all she knows in navigating life. Unfortunately, it won’t work here. "We're sorry. It won't happen again."

She smiles condescendingly. "So you know why you're here."

Irene's peaceful yet scary tone is exactly the reason for her English name, derived from the goddess of peace. She looks the part, too. Her pale skin can be the marble used to carve her most holy altar, and her sharp gaze can be replicated in it. She's like an older and more intimidating counterpart of Eunbi. She's smart as well, but not afraid to show it.

"I—I’m sorry," Eunbi says, realizing she's cornered into confession. It's as if all her speaking skills have evaporated in this room. It makes her nervous; you know so because her hand’s almost deathly cold in your touch. "We'll do anything to make it right." 

Irene clicks her tongue. "It doesn't work that way, miss Kwon. You two had sexual relations with a teacher. It isn't something that can be resolved with community service."

How did she know? You think and think, and all your suspicions, though they jump from Taeyeon (she's in the wrong here, too, so why should she be suspected when she's at as much risk in getting trouble?) to Minju (why the angel, out of all people?) to anybody else, all lead to one person: 

Jo Yuri. Of course it was her. But how?

You suppose that doesn't matter now that you're in Irene's office again. What's worse is that you brought Eunbi with you, the one person you swore you wouldn't toss into all your trouble. It feels like betraying her and everything your relationship has promised.

"Look," you say, taking a step forward, "we're sorry. Really. But please just let me take the blame. Suspend me or something. Just please don't hurt professor Kim or Eunbi, miss Bae."

"How touching, Kim Taeyeon's got you head over heels for her. I wonder what made you like her that much."

"Nothing, miss Bae. It was… just a one-time thing."

"I see, so the word 'mommy' doesn’t ring a bell?"

You stiffen. So does Eunbi, suddenly losing grip of your hand and losing her balance a little. In conclusion: yea, that word rings not only a bell, but a whole fucking gong in your mind.

Of course, Irene sees through this and rolls her eyes to heaven, as if she were making fun of you telepathically to an unknown deity. "Oh, so it does, huh?" she says, lifting her hands in the air. It's obvious, really, and she should have expected it. "Of course. One woman treats you like shit during sex and you drool for her. Of-fucking-course."

Your professional principal daring to curse in front of her students catches you off guard. But you know that, despite this, she's right. There are a lot of deeply internalized issues in you and Eunbi that would have reserved the right to be connected to the fling. These issues are the reason you like Taeyeon after all, but justifying the situation using them won't help your case at all. Irene doesn't take kindly to beggars of pity.

She walks over to the two of you. You subconsciously back away. It's instinctive, and you really should have gone through with what your gut tells you when the woman continues.

"I wonder how you ended up with miss Kwon then, if that's your type." Irene approaches her lookalike and laughs a little. "This little girl can't even get on top without begging for your dick five seconds later."

"That's not true," Eunbi stutters. She tenses up when the older woman strokes her shoulders. "I, I take control all the time, miss Bae. You can't just assume…"

If whatever's going on weren't putting your life at stake, you'd let out the biggest laugh to ever be heard by man. It's just insanely untrue. Eunbi's the most passive girl you've had the blessing to be with. It's just not in her to dominate in the bedroom. Debates and civil arguments in school are all things she tops, but when it comes to you, it's just out of the question.

"Then show me," Irene says. Massaging the girl's shoulders, her smirk creates a new punishment for you to abide by. "Show me how you control your bad little boyfriend."

The anxious, whimpering Eunbi has no time to think about how fucked up this is. She grabs your shoulders and pushes you to Irene's desk. She kisses you clumsily, tearing your uniform with shaking hands. 

Her lips create a path downwards your chest. She unbuckles your belt and drops to her knees. You breathe through your teeth when her mouth works itself on your cock. Down, up, down, up, and a sweet little kiss at the tip. Perfect for you, but not for your principal, who has higher standards, apparently.

Irene smirks, shaking her head pitifully. "Darling," she says before she kneels before you, too, "you really don't know how to do this, do you?"

Eunbi shakes her head. The fact that she's ashamed is, unlike her claim earlier, not a lie.

"Ah." In a sudden affectionate and motherly act, Irene rubs the student's thigh. "You're better off being a good little girl, is that it?" 

"Mmm. Yes."

“You’d rather be your oppa’s submissive little doll? Do anything he wants?”

“Y-yes, miss Bae.”

"That won't do here. You have to pay for what you've done, or else it wouldn't be fair."

Eunbi whines. Is it in protest or pleasure? Irene's fingers have crept under her skirt and to regions they're supposed to be restricted from. The cause is probably a mix of both, but you can guess what they're doing when you see Eunbi grinding down on your principal's hidden hand. 

"How about this?" Irene offers to you. "Miss Kwon and I will take turns on you. We test out who can dominate you better, and whoever does gets to do whatever they want to the rest."

"Miss Bae—" 

Irene pulls her fingers out of Eunbi and spanks her. Your girlfriend gasps and her hips flinch. Yeah,  apparently, there's no way to back out of this. "Close the door, slut. Lock it. You, shut the blinds. I don't want to get in trouble for fucking you spoiled brats."

There's truly no resistant bone in Eunbi's body with how quickly she scampers to the door. You can't say you're any better. You and your girlfriend obey the principal's orders like you're her pets, and perhaps that's a little true. Maybe this is the beginning of something new. Something a little screwed up, yeah, but new.

Whatever this is, you hope it'll get you out of getting your life royally fucked over. You used to not give a damn if that ever happened, but when Eunbi's on your side, you become more cautious. 

(If you were in a better state of mind, you’d recognize how having sex with your principal can and will contribute to your cautiousness going to no avail, but you’ve got two gorgeous women kneeling in front of you. What else is better than this?)

"Sit down." Irene pushes you down her swivel chair. "We're gonna have fun with you first. Call this a little," she winks, "practice session."

Your heart almost stops. You're thrust down even more into the cushion, and the foreign feeling of the principal's tongue provides an aching rush of blood to your cock. Meanwhile, Eunbi attends to your heavy balls, licking and sucking at the sensitive flesh. 

Your skin is on fire. The two beautiful women smear their salivas on your erection. Their tongues collide at times, making Eunbi recoil in shock at times, but not for too long that your penis is devoid of attention. Irene doesn’t mind at all. She’s fine with the occasional dab of her tongue on Eunbi’s mouth, and coating the sheen of saliva she’s left with more. No inch is left needy—while Irene teases your base with sharp licks between smirks, the other girl sloppily makes out with your dickhead. 

"Stop. You don't want your boyfriend here to think he can do anything he wants to you.” Irene’s rough fist stiffens the mast of your erection, and although it's pleasurable, it's also painful. Her speed is too much for a start to the show. "You need to put him in his place. Do it because you want to feel good about it, not him."

"B-but…"

"I'll show you."

Eunbi departs from your crotch and Irene does… well, nowhere near leaving, that's for sure. It's like your cock was just liquid streaming down her throat with how fast she takes you in. Her mouth is small, but she swallows it all expertly. Her hands tie your thighs down to the chair.

Being in Irene's mouth is a wet dream. Literally. Her slick tongue and cheeks rub your tip. They're just appetizers for the main course: her delectable throat that's thin and tight on you. She's almost forcing you to deal with her relentless blowing, betting her career that you can't withstand it. She doesn't need innocent, Bambi eyes to make it appealing when she has that goddess-like face, yet you have to prove her wrong.

But then she wraps her soft, jutted lips around your base and elegantly slides them up with puckered suction. She's not even fucking your rod with her throat anymore and you automatically say something you shouldn't have:

"Mommy, please."

Irene stops and smiles at Eunbi. "See what I'm saying?" she says with overflowing satisfaction. "It just comes naturally to him, doesn't it? Now it's your turn. Make me proud."

The pupil obeys. When has she ever done anything but that? You aren't complaining, though; her pretty mouth ranks up in their competition. 

The two women are so different in so many different ways. Eunbi's gentle blowing, her eyes glimmering with broken innocence that always dart to your face to see if you're enjoying, is far from Irene's harsh one. She bluntly licks at your tip, sparking precum to drip into her mouth, before she slowly takes it all in. Again, widely different compared to Irene's experienced swallow, but who's keeping note? You sure aren't; you're just glad to have the best of both worlds.

"That's a good girl," Irene says. She gathers Eunbi's hair into a makeshift ponytail to help her out. "Don't be afraid to go a little crazy. If you do a good job I might just play with your cute little pussy."

Eunbi shuts her eyes and moans. Your breath is long gone with how her soft, pleasured sounds vibrate on your cock. If that weren't enough, she's lifting her head up and down with a pace that's a little quicker than before, nudging your cock deep inside her mouth. It's past that, actually; your cockhead slips down the end and bears the overwhelming feeling of her airway blocked by your girth.

"M-mmmph!"

"Aw, poor girl's choking," Irene remarks mockingly. "What's the matter, miss Kwon? Can't take it?"

Eunbi tries to surprise her by taking it all down. Unfortunately, it’s too much for her. Instead, she whimpers and chokes. 

While she gags, you moan without shame. "I'm gonna cum, baby," you announce. Your cock feels like it's going to burst with her throat spasming around it. 

Her lips tighten around your tip. It successfully manages to flow your cum directly into her mouth. Irene jacks you off to help out. The younger girl's mouth is soon flooded with the natural waterfall of your cum. It could turn into a natural disaster; Eunbi’s already struggling to save all your load. 

"Don't swallow it. Come here."

Irene forces Eunbi's face to hers and kisses her deeply. Your girlfriend's hands are frozen in the air as they share your cum. The older woman’s hand imprisons her jaw in place so she can greedily collect your cum from the passive mouth. You see the shimmer of your semen as it’s passed from one tongue to another, hear the breathy moan of your girlfriend, feel your cock become more solid.

Irene swallows whatever she's gotten and, as an end to the makeout session, licks the other girl's plump, cumstained lips. "Ah, you’re really delicious," she says. "And your girlfriend's so cute. No wonder professor Kim likes you two so much."

You’re still in shock at the sight, but the mention of your professor gets you to make another comparison with said woman. She and Irene are alike, too, but differ so much as well. They’re both violent, but at least Taeyeon has a nice streak in her; she attended to you after the violent copulation in the classroom. Irene's gentle gestures are done only to please her will. But even with those contrasting traits set in the Venn diagram, you can't choose between the two of them: the dominant principal or the quietly pretty professor? 

Irene pulls Eunbi's hair mercilessly, yanking her head backwards and exposing her beautiful neck. "It's just too bad that she's terrible at being a mommy," she murmurs. Her fingers trace the large tits threatening to burst out of the buttoned fabric. "Such a perfect body for it, but completely useless."

"Oppa, that's not true, right?" asks Eunbi, squirming. "I'm good at being your girl, aren't I?"

"Who was a better mommy, baby boy? Me or her?"

It's not even a question. As much as your heart is biased towards the girl who owns it, it's obviously—

"You, mommy."

"Oppa!" Eunbi protests. She looks genuinely hurt. It's the first time she's ever been second place in anything, and it hits her right where it's already sore.

Irene's grin is smug. It's beautiful, but actually terrifying. It's a sign that everything will only go downhill from here. "What should I do with you two now, hm?" 

"Please,” says Eunbi. Struggling to compose herself now that the principal is playing with her breasts, she fights to say anything without moaning. “Please give me one more chance, mom– miss Bae… please, I'll be good—oh, I'll be so good—"

Your principal drags Eunbi up by her hair. "Stand over there if you're so good, mommy." One swift push sends her stumbling to the edge of her desk. 

Eunbi, sniffling through her tears, awaits her next order. There's something in her face aside from the wet tears; it's a tale of how much she wants to be as good as Irene at using you that competes with her desire to please her. She's been a people-pleaser all her life, and it's hard to break its shackles, especially when Irene orders her to grind herself down the end of her desk, with one rule:

“Don’t cum until I say so.”

The panties slip off her plentiful thighs. She closes her eyes as she settles her nub over the edge of the wooden desk. Slowly, she starts to move.

"F-fuck." Eunbi places a shaking palm over her mouth.

"Exactly what your boyfriend's going to do to me," quips Irene. "See, this is how you put a man in his place." 

She tears her pencil skirt apart with no hesitation. After, she confidently sits on your lap, filling her cunt to the hilt. You tense up; her round ass on your lap is a blessing alone, but when it comes to her cunt, it’s a whole heavenly reward. Although Irene speaks and acts with nothing other than confidence, if not arrogance, her pussy is too tight for your cock to even pulse. When it barely does, her textured velvety walls cease it with a firm clench.

“Holy shit, mommy. You’re so”—between gritted teeth, you groan and rest your hands on Irene’s ant waist—“fucking tight.”

“I know,” says Irene. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

The whole situation is sinful. Watching your girlfriend having nothing to do but touch herself on the inanimate object and helplessly watch the two of you fuck is one thing, but Irene’s perfect ass on your lap is in another world. Galaxy might be more accurate. The melody of their moans causes you to struggle in keeping yourself from cumming too fast, but it’s already a challenge with Irene’s pussy fucking itself on you. She’s as tight as she looks, and probably would have been the ruinable type if she weren’t the way she is.

She leans back into your chest and caresses the side of your face with a surprisingly gentle hand. With timed movements, she lifts herself off and on your erection. Her folds splay apart to welcome you inside, into a whole, slick world. “I guess he’s all mine now, yeah?” she asks Eunbi. “He seems to like mommy better, Eunbi-ya.”

When she’s fingered and forced the girl to sexually stimulate herself on her table, there’s no need for even the polite formalities. There’s not even a chance for it to resurface when Eunbi’s already tearing up. 

“Oppa likes me, too,” she says. The jealousy brewing like a potion cauldron inside her drives her gyrations on the desk to go faster. It’s a fucked up coping mechanism for the sight in front of her. “You still like me best, don’t you, oppa?”

“Of course… fuck”—forget what you’re saying when Irene grinds her hips in circles and bounces her ass cheeks into your lap—“of course I do.”

She certainly knows her way around a dick. Her seductive rounds on your crotch and the measured riding just tell you that she’s had way more than enough experience in this realm, which, in terms of that, places her first. Eunbi’s a sore loser who doesn’t like that fact, but you can’t rig her a place anyway.

“But listen to how he’s moaning, babygirl,” Irene points out. You really don’t intend to moan again in order to avoid hurting Eunbi’s feelings, but Irene keeps a consistent squeeze of her vaginal walls on you and makes all go awry. “He loves my pussy. He loves it when I use him. I presume it’s not the same when it’s with you?”

Try to shut her up by rubbing her clit, but she only murmurs a series of “yes”’s. Besides, the damage, although fired from simple words, is already done; Eunbi’s quivering bottom lip is as clear as day.

“He loves me,” she whines. She squeezes the table tighter, as if the vicinity of the wood can help magick up a proper way to get her to become the mommy she just isn’t. “Hnn. He, he likes me because I’m a good girl.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Irene says, her sarcastically rolled eyes unimpressed. “You’re young. You should know being good is outdated. If he likes it, then he shouldn’t be fucking me right now.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” you say. You stop thrusting upwards into Irene, but she keeps bouncing. The stimulation remains constant. 

You really can’t find your way out of this. Irene’s weight, though light, keeps you on the chair and void of anything to do to break it all up. Your legs already feel weak at her pace. It’s as if she’s completely unaware of how tight and wet she is and therefore subjects you to it, thinking that you can handle it. But of course, she’s an intelligent, self-aware woman—she knows her effect on you, and she isn’t hesitant to exploit it.

Eunbi sobs as she grinds down the edge of the table harder. She can’t take watching you and Irene fuck anymore. "Mommy, please.”

"’Mommy’? Not putting up a fight anymore, are you, pretty little girl?" Irene asks. She pouts mockingly. "Gonna give up?"

Eunbi shakes her head. "No…"

"Alright, if you aren’t, use me. Use your boyfriend. We’ll see what happens."

Your girlfriend bursts into tears. It’s no mere tear sliding down her cheek anymore. It’s a whole fiasco of whiny crying and childish protests. Of course, it’s not in her to fight Irene. She’s remained a diplomatic civil debater, not a physical one. At times she doesn’t even counter an argument, similar to now, when she weakly replies, "B-but I don’t know how.”

“Come on. You’re smart, aren’t you? You can win over me.”

“Mmm, please just let me cum, mommy. Please."

"Do it. I dare you."

"Mommy—"

"Do it."

"I—I can't!" Eunbi says this in a tone that’s nearly a scream as she struggles to keep herself standing. "Please don't take him away from me, I'm a good girl, I swear, I swear!"

“Oh, look at her, baby.” Irene strengthens the force of her riding. It draws you nearer to an orgasm. “She wants you so bad. She wants to be your mommy so bad.”

Eunbi’s explicit moans and Irene’s soft gasps contribute equally with the silken pussy in draining you. You fill Irene up to the brim. As she stands, white drips down her naked legs.

“You want to be a mommy so bad?” 

Irene slips her fingers inside herself, scooping out white liquid, then walks over to the quaking valedictorian. Under the guise of the skirt, she sticks the cum-stained fingers into the needy little hole.

“Then fucking be one.”

“Mommy!” 

Eunbi screams when Irene stuffs her cunt and fingers her violently. Her legs close together, and suddenly she’s creaming all over the fingers moving unabashedly inside her. Wetness is wrung out repeatedly, and strings of arousal connect and disconnect between the joined fingers.

“Mommy, miss Bae, hnnn…” mumbles Eunbi, mind fogged with pleasure, “mommy—”

“Shhh, that’s a girl, miss Kwon,” Irene says as she offers the nectar-coated fingers to the girl’s mouth. Eunbi gladly accepts. 

To your surprise, Irene seems gentle this time. She pats your girlfriend’s back firmly, even wiping the drool on her lips. Maybe it’s the satisfaction of making both a girl and a boy orgasm. That’s all you can guess.

“You haven’t fucked me like you did mommy,” Eunbi protests. “I want you, too, please?”

“You heard the girl,” Irene says. She’s all for another go. She seems to be the only one not tired between the three of you. Her arrogant smile has not once lost its shine. “She wants to be fucked. Or do you not like her little pussy the same way you love mine?”

That triggers Eunbi to look up with tearful eyes. “Oppa, do you…?”

“Of course not. You can have me all you like.”

“Darlings,” pipes in Irene, “you seem to be forgetting someone here. That isn’t part of the deal.”

Of course. You’re still under the invisible contract she set. As the obvious winner of the battle of wills and domination, she gets to have the nicer end of the deal: to do anything she wants with the two of you. Whatever happens here has to involve her. No one’s going to be left out here.

How should it go?

“I want that mouth on my pussy, miss Kwon,” decides Irene, sitting on her throne (AKA as the swivel chair.) “And I want you to fuck her. Really fuck her. I want to see her break.”

So that’s how it goes, since Eunbi’s too kind to propose another way. She crawls between Irene’s legs, greedily eating the cum out of her, while you pound her from behind. 

Eunbi’s wide hips are just irresistible. They fit right into your hands and serve as anchors to pull you in and out of her. The skirt, instead of infuriating you with how much it blocks your view of her ass and grippy pussy, drives you more insane.

And when you look up, there’s Irene, with her legs spread wide for Eunbi to stay. It’s nice of the deities to create a world where there are so many beautiful women, and for two to be right by your side currently. Maybe you gotta thank the Greek statue that’s privy to the whole thing—you’re pretty sure she’s part of the whole god gang. Whatever. 

Irene’s hands aren’t sedentary. They tug onto the wavy hair for its owner to tongue her core more. The pussy-eating thing is an act of jealousy from Eunbi, really—part of the reason she agreed to eat her out is so she can drink your cum straight from where you deposited it. Safe to say it’s a win-win situation.

“Fuck, you’ve got a good mouth, miss Kwon,” says Irene. She bites her lip, and hisses. “Just like that.”

Even with all she’s done to her, Eunbi mewls in appreciation. Or maybe it’s your cock causing that. Yeah, definitely your cock. You make it a purpose to stretch her out and keep her pretty cunt stuffed. Gently stimulate her bundle of nerves for her skirted ass to reverse back into your crotch.

“Oppa—” Eunbi says, her voice reaching another high pitch due to the pleasure.

“I didn’t say you could stop,” Irene sharply reminds her. “Don’t stop or he won’t fuck you anymore.”

Eunbi gets back to work, moaning after you penetrate her again. You may have fucked Irene, but she still remains in control here. She just solidifies her place in the little contest she and Eunbi had. Your girlfriend, ever the grumpy loser, vents her frustration in eating her principal out, evoking broken gasps from her.

“Aw, don’t be too jealous, Eun,” you say to Eunbi. Her tight pussy is an everyday heaven you, a sinner, are given a free pass to relish in. “You’re still my good girl.”

You can feel her cunt tighten at your words. Eunbi closes her eyes and whimpers while she sucks on Irene’s clit. Her nose presses against the older woman’s flat stomach. 

“She really likes being called that, huh?” chuckles Irene, ruffling Eunbi’s hair. 

“She does.” Thrust into her particularly hard. “She’s a sweet girl.”

Eunbi’s body trembles. Unable to deal with the flood of praises, she tonguefucks Irene’s hole harshly, suppressing her heavy breaths in the pink flesh. 

“Is that what you want to be, miss Kwon?” Irene allows Eunbi to take a breather and lifts her chin up, but renders her breathless anyway with the next set of words. “Mommy and daddy’s sweet little girl?”

The girl’s walls twitch around you, and you hear her whine again. She’s always like that, the poor thing, but now, it’s urgent—it goes on, prolonged with need and desire, that you have to pull her into your lap, cock still lodged inside her, and say: “Use your words, baby.”

She’s a little taken aback, but she’s nodding. Breathing through her mouth in shaky little exhales, Eunbi nods. “Y-yes, please,” she says, as if in a trance. “Mommy. Daddy.”

You and Irene don’t get along too well due to your history of troubles, but you immediately understand each other when you gaze into each other’s eyes. You don’t say a word, but there’s no need for any when her lips are already on Eunbi’s. 

It’s a quick change of positions. You bring her over to the desk again. This time, she’s not merely here to watch, but to indulge in the pleasure of having the two of you at the same time. Buttons fly in the air as Irene rips the school blouse apart. She bares the bouncing tits of any bra then immediately goes to worshiping them. Eunbi’s nipple ends up in her mouth and hardens at the suckles. It was as if she were determined to draw out milk from them. 

“Look at you,” she says. Irene admires the round, full bosom before her, tracing a hand along the flesh. “Walking around with a body like this shouldn’t be allowed.”

“Mommy,” says Eunbi. She shivers when you fill her up. “Daddy, please. I’m yours.”

“Oh, you are.” Irene plays with the perfect collarbone for a while before edging her hand up to her throat. There, she squeezes tight. “Trust me.”

You squeeze Eunbi’s breasts and kiss them. You don’t think there would ever be a time you wouldn’t appreciate her beautiful tits. Irene seems to have discovered their beauty, too, for the two of you start to worship them. Irene takes left, you go right. Each one provides more than a supple amount of softness that with each bite, squeeze and suck makes Eunbi clamp down on your cock more. 

“Baby boy,” Irene whispers. She’s never looked this motherly, yet so seductive. “Remember when I said I wanted you to break her? I still expect you to do it.”

“I’d want nothing more,” you reply.

“Daddy, mommy, w-what are you going to do to me?”

“Bend over, miss Kwon,” instructs Irene, “we’re going to give you what you want.”

Eunbi happily does, and thanks her by slipping her fingers inside her. They immediately set a quick pace to keep her on her toes. 

“God, fuck her,” Irene says. “She’s earned it.”

Your girlfriend’s never been so glad to hear something from the principal. The praise earlier is a close competitor, but when these words are the cause of your cock to begin thrusting again, she still prefers these. 

“Fuck, daddy!”

You match the pace of her fingers in Irene’s pussy. You choose to go brutally, putting her out of her long misery by filling her over and over again. 

“Daddy, daddy, daddy, please!” Her eyes are shut, and her body is still except for the movements driven by your thrusts, but her fingers still fuck Irene’s waiting pussy. She’s a true multi-tasker, this girl. 

How many times has she begged like this today? You don’t know, but it’s the first time that she’s calling you the name. It surprises even yourself that it turns you on. It drives a forbidden feeling deep in your chest that’s exactly what fuels your thrusts. 

She’s finally fulfilled after being kept at the side for practically the whole time, so her screams are also of relief. She squirts so goddamned easily that each thrust is slick and messy. Her folds spare not a second of releasing your cock. No, it holds on, and it’s all too messy. Sinful. Incredibly immoral. 

“That’s it, take my cock, Eunbi,” you groan. The words just come naturally to you, because when she’s absolutely writhing underneath you and her pussy is that tight, you become a philosopher with a way with words. You can write several doctrines about how fucking ruinable she is, how her body’s just fit for your cock, how her thin whines are strung out so deliciously that you could never think of stopping. 

After everything that’s happened, she’s still your girl. She’s still the one you want to take to bed. She’s just that good.

“Daddy, mommy, fuck—me!” she screams. Eunbi’s tears come flowing back. They pour down her pretty face and onto the desk. If there was paperwork getting done on this desk, they’re replaced by Eunbi.

You think she’s gone crazy. Her voice is strained and her fingers almost painfully shove themselves in Irene, like they’re machine-controlled. All different sounds are extracted from her sore throat: moans, screams, and gasps—you think you’ve broken her.

You guess that’s enough payment for Irene.

Irene’s groans and cries are loud; her legs squeeze around Eunbi’s wrist. “D-don’t fucking stop,” she warns. You sense that there’d be more than what punishment is if the girl dares to halt. Eunbi knows better than to, anyway. She continues fingering Irene, exploring the cave of her tight hole and pressing down on her G-spot. 

Eunbi closes her eyes as Irene’s cum sprays her. Now she really looks ruined. She’s already covered in her tears and drool. You guess that soon, she’d be covered in you.

You slip out to flick your cock against her clit. 

“Ahhh, daddy!”

“That’s right. Cum for daddy, baby.”

“Y-yes, yes, yes, fuck, daddy! Keep rubbing my clit like that, it feels so good… it feels so warm, please don’t stop!”

“Cum for me.”

“Daddy!” wails Eunbi. 

Everything is a mess of moans and squirting. Eunbi screams in pleasure, shaking as her folds remain determined to swallow every inch of your cock even after her orgasm, and Irene’s to your left riding her digits, crying out as if she were in a war. And you guess that yea, maybe it is a war—a war of good and evil, a war of the overachievers (that brings a chuckle out of you), a war of sex. 

But in the end, in a feat that no one’s ever seen, everybody wins.

-

Dear Ms. Jo,

This is regarding your recent concern about Ms. Kwon Eunbi. 

I find that the evidence you provided to me is altered and has been tampered with. After further questioning with teachers and staff, I can conclude that your concern is dismissed and shall only subject you to disciplinary action.

It is strictly prohibited to spread harmful falsehood about your fellow schoolmates. Please see me after class tomorrow.

Sincerely,

Principal Bae Irene/Joohyun

[novaursa]

Hellooo I would like to request a fic 💕

Targaryen!reader x Stark character (idk which one out of Benjen, Ned or Brandon)

Based before the northern rebellion. Reader is essentially the Realms Delight and is the apple of her father’s eye lol she gets away with everything mostly.

The setting would be a royal hunt, maybe dedicated to someone’s nameday (reader or aerys either work).

Reader meets the Stark family (like for the first time officially) and both are entranced by one another.

Dangerous Gaze

Requests are closed!

- Summary: You meet Brandon Stark for the first time, and the dragon falls for the wolf.

- Pairing: targ!reader/Brandon Stark

- Note: These events happen before Robert's Rebellion.

- Rating: Mild 13+

- Next part: the hunt

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

You have always found royal hunts dull—an endless parade of sycophants eager to flatter your father, the king, while the smell of damp earth and animal musk clings to your clothes. But today, you sense something different in the air, something electric. Perhaps it’s the arrival of the Stark family from the North, specifically their eldest son, Brandon.

Father had decided to organize this hunt to celebrate his nameday, and while the horns of his courtiers sounded joyously through the forest, you could tell his mood was as changeable as the wind. You, however, are looking forward to it for one reason—Brandon Stark.

You’ve heard of him, of course, the wild wolf of Winterfell, a man said to be as fierce as the North itself. But hearing rumors is one thing; seeing him in person is another. And when Lord Rickard Stark introduces his son to your family for the first time, you feel the world tilt just a little.

Brandon stands tall, with wind-tossed brown hair and the sharp eyes of a predator. When he bows, it’s as if the very trees of the Kingswood are bending with him. His gaze, however, is fixed entirely on you.

Your father’s booming voice cuts through the air. "Lord Rickard, and his…pups," Aerys greets, a smirk tugging at his lips as he looks them over. "The North sends its best, I see." His gaze lingers a bit too long on Brandon, and you notice a twitch in his eye.

But you’re too distracted by Brandon's piercing stare to care. His grey eyes lock with yours, and it feels as if he’s stripping away all the pomp and circumstance that surrounds you, leaving just you—the woman, not the princess.

“Your Grace,” Brandon says in a low voice that seems to echo in your ears. His eyes flicker briefly to your father, but they keep returning to you as though he can’t help himself. "It’s an honor to meet you all."

Aerys’ face tightens, the playful humor vanishing from his expression like a wisp of smoke. His fingers twitch slightly, the faintest sign of irritation. "An honor, yes…" His voice drips with something you recognize all too well—danger, veiled in civility.

You smile sweetly, stepping forward to greet the Starks. “And what brings the wolf so far south? Surely not just to hunt game.”

Brandon’s smile widens, his confidence palpable. “I could ask you the same, princess. Though I suspect the real hunt has only just begun.” His tone is playful, teasing, and you feel warmth rise in your cheeks.

Aerys doesn’t miss the exchange, nor the way Brandon’s gaze seems to devour you whole. His voice grows sharp, though still masked with a veneer of civility. “Careful, Lord Stark. The woods here can be treacherous, full of snares and traps. Not everything is as it seems.”

Brandon doesn’t flinch, though you notice the way his jaw tightens. “I’ve faced worse than the Kingswood, Your Grace.”

Aerys’ laughter is cold, echoing through the clearing like a death knell. “Oh, I do not doubt it. But sometimes, even a wolf finds itself caught in a trap it cannot escape. Perhaps by a rope…perhaps by something else.” His gaze flicks over Brandon with unmistakable malice.

You feel your stomach churn at the implication. Your father’s madness has been growing for years, but this—this is something darker. He’s hinting at a future only he seems to see, one where Brandon is caught in his own webs of power and madness.

But Brandon merely inclines his head, undeterred. “I’ll keep that in mind, Your Grace.”

Aerys seems unsatisfied by Brandon’s calm demeanor and turns his attention back to you, his expression softening. “And you, my jewel,” he says, his voice dripping with possessiveness. “Be careful where you cast your gaze. Some wolves have sharp teeth.”

You suppress an eye-roll, though the temptation is strong. “Father, I’m hardly defenseless.”

“I’m sure,” Aerys replies, though his tone suggests he’s far from convinced.

As the hunt progresses, Brandon stays close, much to your delight and your father’s displeasure. You exchange glances, something unspoken between you simmering beneath the surface. And though Aerys’ dark warnings hang in the air, you can’t help but feel drawn to the Northern wolf.

Whatever your father’s madness sees in Brandon’s fate, you’re not afraid. After all, you’ve always enjoyed a bit of danger.