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1800jjbarnes · 9 months

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◇ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟑𝟎: 𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟/𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 ◇

Let Me Help

【Synopsis】 : You didn't know what it meant to be on heat, let alone know you could have one since you weren't a wolf... but here you were, and Bucky was going to help you through it.

『W.C』 : 1.95k

-> Genre: Smut. Wolf Au. Fantasy Au. Fluff.

Paring: Werewolf!Bucky x Human!Reader

[Warnings] : Swearing. Unprotective sex. Pet names. Neck kisses, hickies. Biting. Cumming inside [don’t do that unless you wan babas] Alpha kink. Knotting. Slight choking. Rough sex. Fluff stuff. Some Omegaverse stuff

Masterlist | Kinktober list

You were a human. That fell in love with a werewolf and now you’re his mate and live in a den with all his other wolf friends that are also his pack and you are the first human to be mated to one of the wolves in this pack in history. And plus you are now experiencing what they call a heat but you aren’t a wolf and none of the she-wolves or the alchemist knows what to do so you are pacing back and forth in your bathroom waiting for your lover to come home from a full moon cleanse to tell him to help you through something you’ve never been through before….

Missing anything?

“Fuck!” Your hand slipped off the basin in the bathroom, clutching your stomach. You’ve never experienced such a pain before only being able to compare period pains or when you’ve eaten bad food. But the alchemist, Wanda had warned you since you were human the heat would be way more severe to you than a normal she-wolf. Expressing it might feel like being stabbed or disembowelment. Lovely...

You washed your face with ice-cold water multiple times to try and cool the heat rushing through you but nothing was helping. You felt like you were losing your mind and you had no idea what to do, or how to fix it. All you knew was you needed your mate and needed him now.

Maybe a shower would work? But wait... Why were you now standing under the shower head fully clothed? When did you even turn the shower on let alone get in? Your mind was jumping, hazing. Everything was happening so quickly yet standing still at the same time. You cried, sobbing out for Bucky. Crouching down you let the cold water spray on your hunched back as you hug your knees. The headache was bad and the cramps were worse. Your body was shutting down, making you wonder if this heat could kill you if not looked after.

You couldn’t let your mind slip any further, suddenly hearing the bathroom door being slammed open. A large, beefy Bucky came rushing into the shower. He wasn't wearing a shirt, probably not caring to fully dress when he turned back into his human form. His jeans were getting soaked from the water as he bent down to grab your waist, pulling you up to stand on your feet. You wanted to fall back down but his large frame caged you, holding you tightly so you wouldn't slip. His mouth found your neck sucking on just the right spot. You knew from the little research you had done that it would of most likely been the spot where your glands had been if you were a she-wolf and it was also the spot on your neck that he would mark when you get bounded as soulmates.

He had yet to do so, worried it might affect you if he would knot you. So Instead, when he found the urge to mark you when you both were having sex in the past, he would bite the pillow next to you or the couch arm, or even his own hand. Never would he sink his fang in your sweet soft flesh. His lips kiss along your jugular making you whimper. The small bit of pleasure was sending your mind into a spin. He managed to push you against the wall, tugging at your wet clothing to get it off your shaking body. He would kiss your cheeks, then your forehead, then the corner of your mouth. He would whisper just above the sound of the shower, ‘My pretty pup,’ ‘Let me take care of you,’ ‘That’s it baby, just breath.’

He threw the wet fabric out of the shower making it land on the floor somewhere out of sight. He took this moment, to gaze upon your beautiful body. He could smell you dripping down your leg, making him groan. It was enough to feel the tightness in his jeans get worse. He wanted nothing more than to lose control and knot you like he should. But you were human. Such a fragile thing. Not like a she-wolf that could take his strength. But he had no idea that was exactly what you needed at this moment. “James please, help me. It hurts.”

The cramps were becoming worse when not his touch was soothing some of the aches in your joints. You needed him inside you, desperately. “Please, I need you inside…” Fuck… dirty talk was something you rarely did, finding it too embarrassing to do. Bucky on the other hand was born to be filthy. He loved watching you squirm by the sheer motion of his voice telling you what he wanted to do to you. How he was going to defile you.

“Yeah, pup? You need my cock inside your soaking cunt?” he wanted more from you. Picking one of your legs up so he could stand close to you, rubbing his red angry tip along your slit.

“Yes please, fuck…hmm, I need you so badly. Please James.” Your soft whines got his heart reeling, pushing inside you with little effort as your heat soaked your cunt was perfect for him to slip in. He completely bottomed out in a second making you feel so unbelievably full. The ache in your body was gone for a moment, sweet relief was granted to you. But the cramps were soon coming back making you scream “Fuck me Bucky. Please hurry.”

Who was he to deny his mate, thrusting at a slow steady pace. Your hands gripped his wet biceps as the shower head was directly pouring in between both of you. The stimulation of the running water on your clit, helped your high draw closer. Bucky picked up your other leg, smoothing your body against the wall to fuck you at a harsher angle making your head fall back to hit against the tiles.

Your lover's face buried in your neck, licking and sucking on any flesh he could get to. Everything was perfect but you needed just one more thing which Bucky seemed to know, reaching down to press his thumb on your clit making you gasp clamping down on his cock while you came hard. “Fuck, Fuck, Fuck. Bucky!”

“That’s it pup, come on your mate's cock. Let me feel you come around me.” His voice growled in your ear biting at your ear lobe. He moved backwards slightly letting you wrap your arms around his neck so you could bury your face in his neck this time. You sucked on his rough skin creating your very own mark on his neck. You might not be a wolf but you certainly could still leave your mark.

“I’m coming James please!” You crashed hard, clenching around him. He kept fucking up into you, making your juices squish and squelch around his cock, dripping out onto his legs. But nothing was stopping him. He turn off the shower, needing to fuck you from a different angle.

“Hold onto the sink pup. I’m not done with you yet.” he bent you over the cold sink, making you shiver at the freezing sensation on your sensitive nipples. His cock sunk back into your quivering hole, gifting you a low grumble that ripped through Bucky’s chest. It was almost animalistic, beast-like. His like wolf was taking over. “Fuck sugar, you feel so good. So tight. My perfect pup.”

“Y-hmmm Buck…” Your hips slammed against the counter surely creating indents in your skin that would definitely bruise by the morning. His nails dug into your flesh, making crescent moon shapes while his thrusts got fast as soon approached his edge. Just a little more. Just some more and you had just had perfect timing. “Please Alpha, I need your cum inside me. Please fuck me harder. I want your knot.”

You had no idea where the name came from or why your brain was screaming at you to somehow present for him. To make him know, he could do anything to you. The name slipped off your tongue perfectly and it made his wolf howl. His hips jacked in an inhuman speed, snaking his hand around your throat he growled pooled in your ear. “Alpha hmm? You want your alpha to knot you pup? Mate you? Breed you, fill with his pups?”

Your hand banged against the mirror, smashing a crack into it but not breaking it entirely. Bucky used his hand that was on your hip to cage yours on the said mirror. Linking fingers with you as his thrusts got harder but stuttered through his unstability. “You want my mark sugar? Want to let every other wolf know you’re mine? Fuck just imagining you full and round with my pups makes me want to fuck you all night.”

“Please alpha, Make me yours.” Your cries were music to his ears. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Your his human mate, wanting to be marked, knotted and bred. God, could you get any more perfect.

“It’s okay baby when I’m done, you’ll be leaking my seed for days.” His hand got tighter on your jugular while his lips kissed along your shoulder blades before teasingly nipping at where he would mark you. Everything was so overwhelming, your cramps and all the pain you had felt were washing away being replaced with nothing by Bucky’s scent and touch.

“I’m gonna come, Alpha!” Your choked moans were breathy and short. His hand finally let go of your neck, grasping back on your hip to hold himself up. His fangs grazed your soft skin before he pierced your flesh, letting tears pool on the corners of your tears while he slowed his thrusts to empty his seed deep inside you. you came crashing down soon after. His cock growing, stretching you out, gifting you a new form of pleasure.

“That’s it Pup, deep breath.” He licked your wound, tending to it with extra care while his hand on your hip rubbed circles on your bruising skin. He lifted your left leg up, tilting it towards his body as he sat up straight, turning you around until you could wrap your legs around his waist and arms around his neck. Now facing him, he brushed your hair out of your face, littering you with kisses. You hummed, feeling slumber taking hold of you. “Come on pup. Let’s get you in bed.”

Walking with his cock still inside you was more than uncomfortable and he should have definitely not knot you on the bathroom room counter next time. But as he plopped you on the with him next to you, he helped you cuddle up to him, wrapping you in his scent. “Do you really want my pups…”

“Hmg Fuck sugar…” Bucky had to groan at the fact you didn’t call them kids but pups. Your pups. He suddenly wanted to fuck you again. Maybe when his knot dies down he will but for now, he needs you to rest. “Of course, I want our pups baby. I plan on spending the rest of my life with you.” He kissed you slowly, passionately. Your hand cupped his hand, smiling wide at his low giggles. Your legs wiggled suddenly straddling him. “Come on baby. You need to rest.”

You sat up, drawing circles with your hips. Bucky groaned gripping your waist tightly, bucking his head backwards. “I don’t need to rest. I want more….” You leaned down kissing his cheek before whispering. “Alpha….”

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diejager · 6 months

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just thought of something really funny for the monster cod au. what if reader has a small emotional support dog, and reader is just kissing, cuddling and saying “i love you”s to the dog. do you think the animal hybrids would get jealous of the dog bc of their animal instincts?

Cw: jealousy, tell me if I missed any.

You came with a K9, a big Shepherd and collie mix that you took in after you completed you medic training, a little friend you trained and spent your time with. You two were a package deal, the Task Force wouldn’t have you without Milo, and vice versa. You were assured by Laswell that they didn’t mind K9s in the TF, it was a welcome sight to have an actual dog rather than a hybrid or monster. You took it with stride, Milo by your side at all times and they were never bothered by it, how protective he was of you and how much attention you gave him, but you hadn’t expected to see some grow… jealous of Milo.

You watched Soap and König especially turn green with envy, their burning glare shot towards you fury friend when you kissed his nose and praised him for being such a good boy. He truly was, your loyal and affectionate companion that you nurtured since he was a pup, fighting side by side with you when you were on the field. Soap - sweet Johnny - would shift more often, throwing himself at you whenever you were walking Milo. Rather than simply walking a dog, you walked a dog and a werewolf, a jealous and drooling werewolf that kept rubbing his side against yours, panting and growling out words that you didn’t understand. It was hilarious, seeing how jealousy made Johnny act, his tongue lolling out to lick over your cheek, demanding kisses and praises with his wide and gleaming eyes after you gave them to Milo.

König was as unsubtle about it as Soap was, voicing his envy with nonverbal cues for affection. He would trail behind you, his broad figure so quiet, and tugged at your shirt, mumbling incoherent words until you gave him you attention. He’d stare you down, fluttering his lashes for compliments, whether they were teasing ones or loving ones, he took all and anything you gave him. It was rather… König was less eager than Soap was with praises, but he was more stubborn with it, silent demands and needs for the occasional praise or words of affirmation that you still loved him.

Ghost and Horangi never showed a sign of discontent about the amount of love you gave Milo, but they did towards Soap and König’s unabashed need for it, some slight disgust and growls, snarling at the other for something you truly didn’t understand. Price and Alejandro were… they found enjoyment in your sticky situation, you caught them throwing you a mean grin when you passed them with either Soap, König or both of them stalking behind you. You remembered them calling Soap and König lost pups with heart eyes.

Then there was Gaz and Rudy, godsends, the gentle but logical figures of the team, they would step in to redirect Soap or König’s attention towards them to let you go about your day. If Johnny followed you around, a big wolf drooling all over the floor, scaring others away, Rudy would send his cadejos to herd the big wolf back. If König became your third shadow, his giant figure looming over you and making everyone hesitant to seek your help when they needed needed it, Gaz was there to offer to cuddle up in the couch and let König run his fingers through his wings.

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @cassiecasluciluce @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @thigh-o-saur @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami

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ja3hwa · 11 months

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♡ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟑𝟎: 𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟 𝐎𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐭/𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐉.𝐘𝐇 ♡

Let Me Help

【Synopsis】 : You didn't know what it meant to be on heat, let alone know you could have one since you weren't a wolf... but here you were, and Yunho was going to help you through it.

『Word count』 : 1.95k

-> Genre: Smut. Wolf Au. Fantasy Au. Fluff.

Paring: Werewolf!Yunho x Human!Reader

Thank you, @spooo00oky, for requesting Yunho for this day. I hope you enjoy ♡♡♡

Missing anything?

“Fuck!” Your hand slipped off the basin in the bathroom, clutching your stomach. You’ve never experienced such a pain before only being able to compare period pains or when you’ve eaten bad food. But the alchemist, Yeosang had warned you since you were human the heat would be way more severe to you than a normal she-wolf. Expressing it might feel like being stabbed or disembowelled. Lovely...

Maybe a shower would work? But wait... Why were you now standing under the showerhead fully clothed? When did you even turn the shower on let alone get in? Your mind was jumping, hazing. Everything was happening so quickly yet standing still at the same time. You cried, sobbing out for Yunho. Crouching down you let the cold water spray on your hunched back as you hug your knees. The headache was bad and the cramps were worse. Your body was shutting down, making you wonder if this heat could kill you if not looked after.

You couldn’t let your mind slip any further, suddenly hearing the bathroom door being slammed open. A large, beefy Yunho came rushing into the shower. He wasn't wearing a shirt, probably not caring to fully dress when he turned back into his human form. His jeans were getting soaked from the water as he bent down to grab your waist, pulling you up to stand on your feet. You wanted to fall back down but his large frame caged you, holding you tightly so you wouldn't slip. His mouth found your neck sucking on just the right spot. You knew from the little research you had done that it would of most likely been the spot where your glands had been if you were a she-wolf and it was also the spot on your neck that he would mark when you get bounded as soulmates.

The cramps were becoming worse when not his touch was soothing some of the aches in your joints. You needed him inside you, desperately. “Please, I need you inside…” Fuck… dirty talk was something you rarely did, finding it too embarrassing to do. Yunho on the other hand was born to be filthy. He loved watching you squirm by the sheer motion of his voice telling you what he wanted to do to you. How he was going to defile you.

“Yeah, pup? You need my cock inside your soaking cunt?” he wanted more from you. Picking one of your legs up so he could stand close to you, rubbing his red angry tip along your slit.

“Yes please, fuck…hmm, I need you so badly. Please Yuyu.” Your soft whines got his heart reeling, pushing inside you with little effort as your heat soaked your cunt was perfect for him to slip in. He completely bottomed out in a second making you feel so unbelievably full. The ache in your body was gone for a moment, sweet relief was granted to you. But the cramps were soon coming back making you scream “Fuck me Yunho. Please hurry.”

Who was he to deny his mate, thrusting at a slow steady pace. Your hands gripped his wet biceps as the shower head was directly pouring in between both of you. The stimulation of the running water on your clit, helped your high draw closer. Yunho picked up your other leg, smoothing your body against the wall to fuck you at a harsher angle making your head fall back to hit against the tiles.

Your lover's face buried in your neck, licking and sucking on any flesh he could get to. Everything was perfect but you needed just one more thing which Yunho seemed to know, reaching down to press his thumb on your clit making you gasp clamping down on his cock while you came hard. “Fuck, Fuck, Fuck. YUNHo!”

“I’m coming Yuyu please!” You crashed hard, clenching around him. He kept fucking up into you, making your juices squish and squelch around his cock, dripping out onto his legs. But nothing was stopping him. He turn off the shower, needing to fuck you from a different angle.

“Hold onto the sink pup. I’m not done with you yet.” he bent you over the cold sink, making you shiver at the freezing sensation on your sensitive nipples. His cock sunk back into your quivering hole, gifting you a low grumble that ripped through Yunho’s chest. It was almost animalistic, beast-like. His like wolf was taking over. “Fuck sugar, you feel so good. So tight. My perfect pup.”

“Y-hmmm Yun…” Your hips slammed against the counter surely creating indents in your skin that would definitely bruise by the morning. His nails dug into your flesh, making crescent moon shapes while his thrusts got fast as soon approached his edge. Just a little more. Just some more and you had just had perfect timing. “Please Alpha, I need your cum inside me. Please fuck me harder. I want your knot.”

Your hand banged against the mirror, smashing a crack into it but not breaking it entirely. Yunho used his hand that was on your hip to cage yours on the said mirror. Linking fingers with you as his thrusts got harder but stuttered through his unstability. “You want my mark sugar? Want to let every other wolf know you’re mine? Fuck just imagining you full and round with my pups makes me want to fuck you all night.”

“Hmg Fuck sugar…” Yunho had to groan at the fact you didn’t call them kids but pups. Your pups. He suddenly wanted to fuck you again. Maybe when his knot dies down he will but for now, he needs you to rest. “Of course, I want our pups baby. I plan on spending the rest of my life with you.” He kissed you slowly, passionately. Your hand cupped his hand, smiling wide at his low giggles. Your legs wiggled suddenly straddling him. “Come on baby. You need to rest.”

You sat up, drawing circles with your hips. Yunho groaned gripping your waist tightly, bucking his head backwards. “I don’t need to rest. I want more….” You leaned down kissing his cheek before whispering. “Alpha….”

-♥︎

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strwbmei · 10 months

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Kinktober : BONUS LEVEL.

summary: in the midst of the crowded costume party; stelle needs you— and she needs you now.

contains: modern!au, college!au, female reader, mentioned alcohol usage, pet play sort of(?), stelle is referred to as a dog and she has a collar, transfem!stelle, stelle is taller, mentions of drugs, semi-public sex, creampie, power bottom reader, choking, unprotected sex, non-consensual creampie, stelle is a bit pathetic

pairing(s): pre-established stelle x reader

a/n: It's a bit late considering this was for Halloween, but this idea has been rotting in my brain for so long...

NSFW below the cut !

"Baby..." Stelle whined, looking down at you with those amber-hued puppy eyes she knew you couldn't possibly refuse. Not for long, at least. "Need you s'bad... Please?" The taller woman clung to your arm, tugging on your sleeve like a child who didn't get the toy they wanted.

After the two of you received an invitation to a quote-unquote, "small Halloween costume party" from a mutual acquaintance, you decided to go as the werewolf and little Red Riding Hood.

It was a great idea— the costumes worked well individually, but if someone saw both of you together, it'd be obvious that the two of you were a couple, though that was mostly because you were literally holding her on a leash that was attached to the collar her costume came with.

What wasn't a great idea, however, was going to the party in the first place. Within not even half an hour, the place reeked with the stench of vomit and cheap alcohol, and the second-rate Halloween decorations that were obviously only added as an afterthought were presumably torn off the walls by drunks.

Also, unlike the person who invited you two had said, the party was not small at all. The place was filled to the brim with couples and stoners; the only reason you two still stayed was because it'd be a waste to not use the costumes you already bought. They weren't really expensive, per se, but both of you were broke college students. You were going to make the most out of the $40 you spent on these costumes.

"Stelle, you can't just-" You inhaled, taking in a deep breath as you halt your words. "We're in public. I'm sorry, baby, but you can wait until we get home, hm?" You took her hands into your own, rubbing soothing circles on the back of her palm. The size difference was almost laughable.

Stelle heaved a dejected sigh, but you knew she hadn't given up quite yet. She was never one to be good with words— but she sure as hell was good at expressing her thoughts with her actions.

Which is probably why you can feel something hard and lengthy rubbing against your thigh as she wraps her arms protectively around your small frame. "Please. I'll make you feel so good, I promise..." She murmurs into your neck.

Well... it's not like you can just leave Stelle with a raging boner, right? Especially when you're what caused it in the first place. Right. You're just doing what any responsible girlfriend would do.

Though, you weren't aware that that included frantically unzipping her pants in god-knows-who's room as music blared from the cheap speakers downstairs.

"Wai- mmph..!" Stelle quickly put a hand over her mouth, stifling a moan as you hurriedly wrapped your lips around her cock. Though muffled, the sounds she made were more than audible.

Her eyes closed in ecstasy, her hands gripping your shoulders with a force that fluctuated between one of considerate eagerness and selfish desperation for her own pleasure— all telltale signs that she was going to cum soon, and you've grown all too familiar with them.

Though Stelle never could last long, the number of rounds she could go for was inhuman. Well, at least her ungodly amount of stamina is one thing about a werewolf that was even remotely similar to her.

As your head bobbed faster and faster in pace, her whimpers and moans grew louder and higher in pitch. With a strangled gasp, ropes of her warm semen flooded down your throat. Your mouth was pressed to her abdomen, swallowing every drop she had to offer.

"H-haah...~" The taller woman looked down at you with further aching need; cock still standing proud with a similar yearning. "Really, babe?" You sighed. A couple getting caught having sex in a party wasn't exactly a rare occurrence, and although normally people wouldn't care, it'd stain your pride.

Just as you were about to start jerking her off, she grabbed your hand by your wrist. "Wanna be inside you. Can I? I've been good..." She frowns; again, looking at you with those eyes.

First, she claimed that she'd make you feel good, only to settle for you sucking her off; second, does she really think she's been good? You wouldn't be in this situation if that were true in the first place. Liar.

However, you reckon you could give her a chance to prove herself...

Next thing you know, you're getting railed on the floor, barely able to keep yourself from falling over as Stelle rutted her hips into you. "W-wait, ah..!" You moaned. You didn't know what made Stelle so uncharacteristically... desperate, as if she were a dog in heat.

Maybe it was your costume? No, it looked good— but certainly not that good. And it wasn't revealing in the least, even the skirt was below knees length. Perhaps she was just too drunk? That's not it, either. Stelle has been drunk many times before and she's never acted like this.

Oh. The collar.

"Goddamit, Stelle...!" You huffed out in a hushed voice with all of the anger you could muster up. Everybody knows you can't ever stay mad at her, no matter what she does. Just like a cute puppy getting caught making a mess, Stelle only whines at your words; one hand over her mouth to muffle her sounds while the other kneaded at your breasts.

You pull her into a sloppy, hot kiss by her collar, the pace and strength of her thrusts unwavering. She whimpers into your mouth, swallowing all of your moans as she practically pounds you into the floor. Her cock was on the thicker side, rubbing perfectly against your walls while her tip kissed your cervix.

"Shit, so... tight...!" Stelle breaks out of your grip with little to no effort, hands needily grabbing and massaging at your tits. You tried to tell her to pull out, but you couldn't get any words out of your mouth through your moans. She mumbled a string of curses and apologies like a sinner begging for forgiveness. "Oh god, I'm gonna cum, gonna cum inside!"

With a choked moan, she held your hips down as you felt her warm cum fill you up. She lets out a sigh of pleasure as she pulls out of you, breathlessly pressing kisses on your inner thighs and apologizing. Though, seeing her cum leak out of you when she pressed down slightly on your stomach has her vigor returning tenfold...

Fuck it. She's cum inside of you already, what's the harm in two, maybe three more times? The night is young, after all.

╰┈➤ taglist ; @roninraccoon , @hedgehog666 , @dukemira , @yelanrambles , @the-night-owl-blr

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boxofbonesfic · 2 months

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Title: Blood and Sand (2 of 2)

Pairing: Werewolf!Moon Knight x Reader

Wordcount: 8,594

Summary: You are selected to accompany your mentor on a dig, but what you find in the desert instead makes you wish you had never come at all.

Warnings: Horror, Canon-Typical Violence, Fantasy, Dark Fantasy, Murder, Kidnapping, Cults, Implied Torture, AU, Smut, Monsterfucking, Lycanthropy, Cannibalism

A/N: honestly, thank you for reading part one because this is just… porn and violence luckily for me, those are some of my favorite things to write, LMAO. we knew this was going to be self indulgent, so i hope it’s your kind of self-indulgent too. to be clear: this part has all the fuckin’; human, monster and otherwise. 😂❤️ spanish translations provided by the amazing @negronispagliato❤️ bottom divider by @firefly-graphics!

💀

“Oh thank fucking Christ.”

You wake with your head pillowed in Steven’s lap, his eyes dark with concern. You shift, moving to get up—but your skull erupts with pain. Sharp tendrils of it that strike at the nerves behind your watering eyes. Even talking is too much, your jaw aching as you attempt to open your mouth.

“No, Love, don’t.” He holds you still, large palms cradling your face on either side as you whimper. Steven’s eyes harden with anger. “Prick made you read too much.” The hard edge in his voice is unfamiliar—unsettling, even. You aren’t used to seeing anger on Steven’s face. No, that emotion is much more reserved for Marc or Jake—but he’s nearly trembling with it, his lips pressed into a thin line.

“I’ll fucking kill him.” The words are so low you barely hear them—hell, you half wonder if you’ve imagined them. For a moment, a shaft of the setting sun sinking beneath the frame of the narrow window, and his chocolate eyes turn a molten, animal yellow.

“I will eat his fucking heart.”

Steven has the patience of a saint, laying there unmoving until the pain subsides enough for you to crawl out of his lap. Your whole body feels exhausted, wrung out and limp. The water he offers you is tinny, but you’re used to it—every drink of water you’ve had in recent memory tastes like this, it’s almost all you know.

“What happened?” You croak, fingers struggling to hold onto the chipped mug you both share. Steven looks angry—and then ashamed.

“You read,” he says slowly. Reluctantly, he brings his sorrowful gaze to yours.

“And we ate.”

They do not come for him again that night, and you’re grateful for it, burying your face against his chest, clinging to Steven beneath the threadbare blanket—the only one you have. You suppose at least that you are grateful that there are no rats, no spiders or insects. They keep the the corners, skittering away whenever he comes close.

They can sense it, you think, the thing beneath his skin. You can too.

—

Marc kisses you hungrily, his fingers tangling in the curls at the nape of your neck as he tugs your head back. With his other arm he pulls you hard against his chest. You go willingly, easily, arching your back against him. He’s not back yet—not fully, not really.

The other priests can’t read the Word like you can, don’t feel it the way you do—so it takes longer for Marc to come back to himself from the jackal-thing, the moon-drunk thing, and sometimes when they bring him back to you, it’s still worming around inside his head.

Like tonight.

Claws prick at your skin, stroking the line of your throat. Marc’s too-sharp teeth pull at the lobe of your ear before he kisses you again, sloppily.

He tastes like copper.

“Make me forget.” It’s a demand, not a request, but it’s one you’re happy to oblige.

“He’s hard behind you, the fat length of him pressing insistently between the cheeks of your ass. One hand slithers beneath the tattered hem of your tank top, trailing the pads of his fingers across your nipples. The other squeezes the curve of your hip. He doesn’t pull your pants down all the way—full nudity is a privilege you cannot afford anymore. Not with the guards doing random checks now, now that they know.

Pricks.

Mikhail especially seemed to take great pride in discovering you, often standing at the observation window when he had no reason to—the weight of his cold gaze heavy on you every time.

Marc boxes you in with his body—you suspect both because he enjoys the feel of you pressed against him with nowhere else to go, and because from this angle, they can only see his back. Marc kicks your legs open a little wider, humming as he spreads the thick beads of precum leaking from his tip across his head, and you shudder as he slides against you with a lewd squelch. Your breath catches as he traces your pulse with one sharp claw.

“Are you afraid of me?” There are two voices in his throat, twining around one another like vines. One is Marc’s, the one you know, the one that growls your name hungry and low—

And the other one, the one that knows you.

“No.” You aren’t. You should be, should always have been, but for some reason, you never are. There’s so much fear here, running in your veins, oozing out of the fucking walls, you don’t want to feel it with Marc, too. You reach behind yourself to palm his cock with slow, sure passes until he moans into your hair, hips bucking into your hand. You clench around nothing, and Marc chuckles darkly into your hair like he knows it.

“I can smell it, you know?” He breathes, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “How wet you are,” his hand snakes around to your front, sliding down beneath your loose waistband to cup your cunt, fingers slipping eagerly through your folds. He bites down hard enough to bruise, and you whine his name pathetically.

“Marc—!”

“See?” He circles your entrance with deft fingers, the rough stubble on his face rasping against your cheek. “So ready.” Your eyelids go slack, your head lolling back against Marc’s shoulder as he presses two thick fingers into you, moaning low. “Soft and sweet and ready…” You don’t even think he’s talking to you, now, mumbling to himself—no, to Jake and Steven, probably—about his enjoyment of your body, how good you feel, how much he wants you. Marc scoffs at a comment you didn’t make, confirming your theory.

“Made for us, huh?” Marc draws a line with the tip of his claw over your nipple, and you feel his lips curve against your throat. “Maybe so.” He grips the back of your head with one hand, the other still buried in your cunt as he kisses you again, hungrily swallowing the whimpering moan you try and fail to contain. He sucks on your tongue, running the sharp points of his canines along it before releasing you.

“Steven says you’re made for us.” He watches your face with pale yellow eyes, enjoying the look of dizzy bliss you know is there. You whine when he thumbs at your clit, your eyes rolling as you clamp down around his fingers. He grins.

“I think he might be onto something.” Everything you know is turned on its head now—everything is real, because how do you know it’s not? Gods and Monsters, the veil is open, forever torn for you now, and you see them all.

“Maybe so,” you run your tongue across your lips and he follows the movement with rapt attention. “Or maybe you were made for me.”

He laughs.

Marc scissors his fingers inside you as you go to pieces. Happy, it seems, to shoulder your weight because your trembling legs will not do so on their own. He alternates between sucking at your pulse point, and mumbling heated, possessive promises into the curve of your jaw. You feel each word as he says it, maybe even a little before, his lips moving against your skin.

“You feel so good, Baby, m’gonna feel you on my cock next,” You’re too gone to be embarrassed by the wet sucking noise your cunt makes when he pulls his fingers out, watching as he lifts them to his mouth, deftly cleaning each one with long strokes of his tongue. It’s almost enough to make you forget where you are, what you’ve done.

What you’ve become.

You aren’t like him, but you aren’t like you anymore, either. You see the words in your minds eye even when Loki’s book isn’t before you, feel the weight of them on your tongue days before you speak them. No, you are changed.

It’s why you need this as much as Marc does—it’s the only thing you can control.

“Hands on the wall, Baby.” You brace your palms against the wall as he nudges your thighs wide with his knee, pulling the waistband of your pants down to your thighs. You can’t help but arch back a little as he slides his cock through the soaked and swollen folds of your cunt, moaning your name. The low, guttural appreciative sound he makes as he sinks in is almost as good as the burning stretch of his entry. You arch, pushing back against him until he’s seated all the way inside, his hips pressing tight against the curve of your ass.

“Fuuuck.”

You’re blissfully full, stars dancing behind your closed eyes and then—Christ—he starts to move. Marc grips your waist with both hands, holding you good and still. Your fingers scrabble against the concrete wall, teeth sinking into your lip as he drives into you, pulling nearly all the way out before filling you completely again.

Maybe Steven’s right, you think, as Marc wraps one hand around your throat, pulling you flush against his chest. Maybe I was made for them. It certainly lends credence to his theory, the way your body fits perfectly into the hollow of his like this, his cock filling you so completely that there’s barely even room for breath. The hand on your hip drifts to your belly, pressing down as he slides back in. His lips curve against your ear.

“Think I can feel me in there?” He asks, before pressing down harder. You writhe against him, your body hot. “Maybe if I press harder…” Marc holds you like that for a while, pressing down on your belly with one hand as he ruts into you, growling. You’re practically a mess by the time he begins to work at your clit with his thumb, circling it softly.

“M-Marc, fuck,” You grit his name out as you cum again, twitching pathetically in his arms. Marc’s head falls back, his eyes closed as he revels in the feel of it, you clenching around his cock like a vise. He presses in deeper, a and fuck, you hadn’t even known he could. And you feel his teeth—blunt now—press hard into your neck as he spills inside of you, the warmth of it making you shudder.

He stays like that, his teeth buried in your throat while he pants, fingers flexing on your hips.

Marc cleans you up, sacrificing a portion of what little water you are allotted to clean the mess he’s left between your thighs, and you return the favor, before laying down heavily on the cot. Marc curls around you, placing his body between you and the door.

—

“She’s not going.” Jake has placed himself between you and Mikhail, his arms crossed. “She’s not well.” You aren’t. You’ve been… wrong since your reading the night before, your head swimming with symbols, and a man with a bird skull for his head; bleached white like it had been baked in the unforgiving desert sun, tall enough to move the moon across the sky. Your nose is still bleeding sluggishly, too, you taste copper when you lick your lips. No, not a man—a God.

KHONSU.

Why do you know his name?

“This is not a debate.” Mikhail sneers. He’d come alone today, unlike every other time he had been sent to fetch you. Loki didn’t take chances when it came to security, you’d learned that by now. So why was he here? Alone?

“Loki wants her.” He jerks his head at you, blue eyes dark over Jake’s shoulder when he meets your gaze. “Move, freak.” Perhaps he doesn’t know the difference between the three, or maybe he just doesn’t care, but a lump forms in your throat when Jake squares his posture, fingers curling into tight fists.

“What, you going to fight me in chains?” He mocks. “I said move.”

“No.”

You’re expecting more of Mikhail’s smug condescension—not for him to ball his meaty fingers into a fist and punch Jake. His head snaps to the side, and you watch a satisfied smirk spreads across Mikhail’s face in response. He tries to shoulder past in that moment, using Jake’s surprise as an avenue around him.

You hear the sick sound of bone crunching as your brain struggles to understand what you’re seeing. Mikhail’s arm is broken, hanging limply at his side, while Jake stands over him, his lip curling.

“I see how you look at her.” He kicks him, and Mikhail looses a pathetic whine as the breath is driven from his lungs. “Patético.” He squats down, gripping Mikhail’s short, blond hair.

“Let go—fucking stop!” He shouts, and finally, you hear the guards clamoring at the end of the hall.

“The fuck is going on down there?!”

“You hear that?”

It doesn’t deter Jake though, as he cocks back and drives his fist into the other man’s face hard. His eyes are dark, jaw set tight. The muscles in his back tense and flex as he draws back again, and the spray of blood that coats his face as Mikhail’s nose breaks this time coats Jake’s face, flecking his skin with thick drops of red. He licks his lips before bringing a sputtering, gagging Mikhail’s head level with his own. His eyes are red and crossed with burst vessels, nose smashed in and lips burst open.

“Fuck you!” He screams, his voice cracking with pain. “You and your fucking whore—”

“You think I don’t know what you were planning? What you were going to do?” Jake asks, cocking his head like he really wants to know the answer. “March her out of here, take her someplace nice and quiet,” Jake pauses, spitting on the ground beside Mikhail. “Asqueroso de mierda.” Fucking pig.

“Quiero que sepas que eres un muerto viviente. Entiendes? You’re done.” You’re a dead man. I want you to know now, understand? So when it comes later, it isn’t a surprise. Jake doesn’t let go, not even as the sound of frantic footfall grows closer, only seconds away, now. “So when it comes, it isn’t a fucking surprise.”

The guards storm into the room, shouting, weapons drawn. There’s so much blood, Mikhail’s bones are sticking up through the ruined meat of his arm, not to mention his face. Loki follows, his face contorting with anger.

It takes Rumlow pressing his pistol to the back of Jake’s head to make him stop, to make him let go so they can drag Mikhail out of the room as he wails, cursing the both of you. You can tell Loki wants to punish him—punish both of you—but he needs you. You to read the book, to be the conduit he can’t be, and Jake to partake of the sacrifice, to consume the flesh and appease the God whose power they’ve stolen.

And Mikhail needs medical attention.

Loki settles for roughing Jake up a little, the guard team taking turns until he’s had enough, waving his hand to call them off. To his credit, Jake looks fairly unfazed, despite the physical evidence otherwise.

“Perhaps housing the two of you together was a mistake.” He replies, and you scowl at him.

“Kidnapping people for your fucked up rituals was a mistake.” You reply, and he laughs.

“How cute.” Loki’s slow smile sends a shiver down your spine. “You still think you’re people.”

They don’t come that night—too busy with Mikhail, you expect.

Which is good, because Jake Lockley is nothing if not an opportunist. You wake as he’s fitting your knees over his shoulders, gazing up at you hungrily from between your thighs, his black honey voice rumbling in your ears.

“Ábrelas pa’ mi.” Open for me. There is utter silence around you, no footsteps, no quiet conversation from the end of the hall. For the first time in weeks—months—you are truly alone.

So there is no one to hear the rising cacophony of your voice as Jake sets to work between your thighs, his tongue lashing against your clit, and fingers prodding eagerly at your entrance. Your eyes roll, a breathy moan worming out from your throat. You can’t help yourself from rocking your hips against his face, and Jake smirks, his lips curving against your cunt.

“Te sientes bien, nena?” Feel good, Baby?

“U-uh-huh,” you nod dumbly. Your unfocused eyes stare unseeingly at the dark ceiling, one hand tangled in his messy curls just to have something to hold on to. Jake groans when you pull, his fingers pressing into the softness of your thighs as he holds you still. There’s a hunger, a desperation in his touch that is markedly different from the way Marc, or Steven does.

Like he knows he may never get another chance.

You arch up off the cot, and Jake’s palm cracks against your thigh in warning.

“Still.” He cuts his eyes at you from between your thighs. “No hagas que me repita.” Don’t make me say it again.

He devours you until you’re trembling, toes curling as you cum with a wail. Jake’s fascination with your cunt is obsessive, the way he maps every inch with his tongue, checking the lines with his fingers just in case. He rolls his tongue against your clit, chuckling darkly when you convulse. When he’s finally had his fill, Jake rises from between your legs, wiping your slick from his mouth with the back of his hand.

For a moment, he just looks at you, studying the lines of your body and committing each one to memory. You feel strangely vulnerable laying there beneath him, not because this is the first time—it isn’t, and at this point you’ve lost count—but because you realize this is the first time any of them has ever seen you fully naked since the first time, not just with your shirt rucked up beneath your chin, or your joggers pulled down around your thighs.

You reach for Jake, kissing him and tasting yourself on his lips and tongue as he fits his hips between your thighs like a puzzle piece. The full body shudder that erupts is impossible to hide as his cock slides against you. Jake grins down at you.

“Esto es tuyo, déjamelo darte.” That’s yours, Querida. Let me give it to you.

The thick, rigid length of him takes up every inch of available space inside you at this angle; and Jake glories in it, pressing your thighs apart and back, muttering silent curses as he throws his head back. He pulls out, quickly filling you again with a wet, vulgar noise that would’ve embarrassed you had you the capacity to consider it, but you don’t, not when Jake is looming over you. He isn’t an emotive man, not even a particularly talkative one, but like this… He practically sings.

“Shh. I want to see if I can get in any deeper. I know you’d like that.” Your cunt squeezes down around him as if in response, and Jake chuckles. He slides his hands down your thighs like he’s holding you steady as he presses in. Once he’s in as far as he can get, his hips fitted against yours almost too tightly, there isn’t room in you for breath, let alone thought. And whichever words do make it into your head simply just… come out of your mouth, even if they’re just half formed.

“Sh-shit, Jake—what’re you—fuck—!” Luckily for you, he’s not really listening anyway, his dark eyes focused on the slick mess between your legs, but you can’t stop the train now that it’s started, whiny, needy pleas falling from your lips without your say-so. Jake cups your chin, dragging his thumb across your parted lips.

“Stick out your tongue, baby—mierda, así mismo-!” fuck, yes, like that-! Jake squeezes your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger before leaning down to suck on your tongue as he slams into you, groaning. Your head is spinning, eyes wide and glassy as your lover places his index and middle fingers on the flat of your tongue.

“Chúpame.” Suck. You obey immediately and without complaint, closing your mouth around his fingers. Jake moans so low it sounds almost like a growl, his fingers digging into the meat of your hip as his eyes roll shut. He thrusts in hard and you gag around his fingers, whimpering. They’re slick with your drool when he pulls away, thick strands of it connecting the tips of his fingers to your puffy, kiss swollen lips. It’s like the sight inspires him, and he takes them again, furiously devouring every gasp and moan you release as he continues to fuck you.

Every single one of your nerve endings is writhing with pleasure, a veritable ocean of it overwhelming you as you’re swept away beneath it. Jake is everywhere, his hands on your face, your hips, your breasts, your cunt—in your fucking mouth—you don’t know how to process it all.

You’re cumming before you realize it, choking out a curse as you press your face, your teeth into the side of his neck. His cock spasms inside of you only moments after, sticky warmth oozing out of the place where you’re joined as Jake presses his forehead against yours, eyes closed. After a few seconds, he collapses to the side, sliding out of you only for an instant before he pulls you against his chest. You shiver as he slips back in just as easily.

The next words he speaks are uttered quietly into your hair.

“Can we sleep like this, querida?” His fingers trace patterns on your skin. “Please.” You don’t ask why—you don’t need to.

“Yeah,” you nod against his chest, and he pulls the blankets up around your shoulders. “Okay, Jake.” He presses a kiss to the space between your shoulder blades, and as your world fades to black, you feel his lips moving against your skin, mouthing the words he won’t say out loud.

—

“King of crossroads

Travelers and Thieves

Accept this offering, accept his flesh and blood as penance—”

Blood streams from your nose as you read the Word, coating your lips and dripping down your chin. You can taste it in your mouth as you form each syllable. Your skull feels like it’s about to split open—there’s not enough room inside for infinity, after all. You see yourself spread out like a series of mirrored reflections in every direction, in every lifetime.

You read the book in every century, you worship the God of Moons and mirrors at sacred altars raised high above the chaos below and profane ones, hidden in in the deep, secret places. You are a thousand you’s who have come before, whose blood stains the pages like yours does—

As you read, he eats.

You barely hear the screams anymore—it’s so hard to hear them, over the noise of a thousand thousand lifetimes—but in your doubled, tripled, infinite vision, sometimes you see it.

The thing in your lovers’ skin, the jackal-thing, tears the arm from a crying man, but you cannot smell the blood. Your nostrils are still full of incense from somewhere else, but you hear the sickening sound of splintering bone, gore staining the jackal-thing’s wide maw. It turns unfocused, yellow eyes on the guards in the outer circle of the ritual room, snarling. Distantly, you suppose you are aware of the sound of straining metal, stone cracking as he, they, it, strains to reach them, it’s long arms outstretched.

“Stop.” Loki’s voice is eons away. He shakes you—you don’t feel it. Your eyes don’t even stray from the page. “Stop, I said!” The commands blur into insignificant background noise, you cannot hear Loki now, because He is here. You can feel him, turning his attention to you as his power flows in through your soul and out through your mouth. And when He slips in to look through your eyes, His disgust makes your own lip curl.

UNWORTHY.

Loki slaps you then, his palm cracking across your cheek, snatching the book from your hands. The last few syllables die out on your tongue as he snaps it shut. You stand there, dazed and blinking at your empty hands. Slowly, you bring your hand to your face, sweeping the tips of your trembling fingers through the sticky wetness just above your lips, and they come away dark red.

Below you, the beast strains to reach the soldiers still. You squint at the links connecting the collar at its throat to the anchor set deep into the concrete—are they stretching? As you think it, there’s a metallic snap as it bursts, affording the creature another foot forward. It strains at the two on it’s arms, pulling with all its might.

You know you don’t have long before he reverts, before the bones begin to crack again, turning skin to ragged meat as his body changes again—

You cannot let that happen.

Loki doesn’t expect you to lunge for the book, to drive your shoulder into his chest as hard as you can. The air rushes out of his lungs, and he stumbles back, cursing breathlessly.

“What the fuck are you doing—”

You snatch the book from his limp fingers. Book is an exaggeration for the stack of loosely bound, frayed papyrus you hold in your hands, between two carved slabs of soapstone. It practically hums against your skin as you hold it now. You will decide which parts you read.

“You have no idea what you’re doing!” Loki snarls, staggering toward you. “Give me—”You step back just as the second chain breaks, leaving only one. Someone shoots, a bullet passing through the meat of the jackal-thing’s shoulder, but the wound closes up before your eyes, knitting back together till there’s nothing a there but short wiry fur and a few drops of blood.

“Boss!” One of the guards calls up to Loki from below. “He’s—”

The final chain snaps, and the beast looses a triumphant snarl. “Shoot!” Loki screams. “Fucking shoot it!” You watch, horrified as the rain of bullets tear into its flesh, chunks of stinking, steaming meat littering the floor by its feet. It doesn’t seem to care, luminous yellow eyes fever bright with bloodlust. The ragged holes in its flesh close almost as instantly as they appear, bone and sinew mending back together as the soldiers scream. You watch as it tears one of their arms out of the socket, its wide jaws frothy with blood and spittle as it crunches through the raw, red meat of it.

“Kill him!” Loki is screaming, the remaining guards flocking to him as the beast, the jackal, tears through the men in the sacrificial circle. “Fucking shoot him!” The carved stone beneath them is slick with blood, the whole room stinks of it, hot copper and fresh meat. Their boots slip against it as they struggle to escape, many of them having fired their entire clips into his unwavering chest.

The words flow from your mouth like electrical current, bypassing your brain as your tongue forms words you’ve never heard before, words that leave your head buzzing and ringing. There’s pressure behind your eyes, in your skull, a full feeling that leaves blood leaking from both your nostrils. The text becomes one word, a single word, and you know the book has changed to meet its maker’s will, the one who speaks through you now, whose clear moonlight burns at your insides and streams out of your mouth as the words singe your tongue.

DEVOUR.

You both feel and do not feel Loki press the cool muzzle of his pistol to the back of your head.

“Stop. Fucking. Reading.” He seethes, pulling back the hammer.

You wouldn’t even if the choice was still yours, but you don’t tell him that. You can’t, not with your throat full of the most ancient of magics. He pulls the trigger, and you feel the bullet burn against your skin—but it does not penetrate. Instead, it falls to the floor at your feet, rolling until it falls down into the gory mess below. He’s behind you, but you can see him anyway—the moon is a mirror, and all mirrors are your eyes—his face ashen, blinking as he fires again, and again, and the bullets all fall uselessly away like pebbles.

“We need to go!” Rumlow is covered in blood, his face bearing the marks of the beast’s displeasure. “Fucking now!” He racks another round into his gun as he barrels up the stairs. Behind him, your monster is making short work of the three remaining guards on the lower floor. “If she wants to stay here and burn her-fucking-self to ashes, let her! There’s always another voice, ain’t that what you said?” Loki nods, casting you a dirty look. “Let’s go!” as it stands there in the pile of steaming gore, it lifts its shaggy head up toward the moon framed in the skylight, and howls.

“We need the fucking book!” He argues. He steps towards you, like he means to pry your fingers from its smoking pages, but he reels back, screaming. A monstrous hand the size of a butterfly net bursts through Rumlow’s bulletproof vest, and somehow you can hear the wet sound of the merc’s body trying to function around the intrusion—a wet, sucking noise—before he drops to the ground, still.

The jackal-thing steps over him. The dark fur around its mouth is flecked with bits of meat, and it runs its tongue along its muzzle in obvious anticipation of more. But instead of advancing on your fleeing captors, it turns to you, fixing you with those terrifying eyes.

COME.

DEVOUR.

COME.

DEVOUR.

The God steps into you as one might shrug on a too small coat, steadily and aggressively working his way into your body, filling you like a helium balloon. The same presence you’d felt when you first touched the book overwhelms you now, and more burning light pours from your eyes as he peers about the room with indisputable anger. The voice that comes from your mouth is not yours, is not human.

It is the sound of sand, of tides, of ages and of cold fire.

“YOU WHO HAVE ABUSED MY POWER.” White fire pours from your lips, dripping down to the floor to pool like liquid. You do not take a step forward, Khonsu does, and the stone cracks beneath your combined weight. “YOU WHO HAVE SLAIN THE INNOCENT. WHO HAVE ENSLAVED THE PRIESTS OF MY HOUSE.” They run then, making for the doors, but neither you, nor Khonsu feel the need to chase them.

It makes no difference.

“YOU WILL BURN.”

You lift your hand, and you feel the jackal’s blood slick fur against your palm as he leaps at your command. The halls are filled with a veritable symphony of pleading and screams as his jaws find them—or you do.

Loki makes it all the way to the vehicles, dragging a broken leg behind him as the two of you follow closely behind. It is more satisfying than you can admit as you wrap your fingers around his throat, his flesh blackening and peeling away as you lift him.

“My hand was forced,” you say, grinning as the realization dawns . “But you will never force it again.”

He doesn’t have vocal chords left to scream with as he burns.

You know it when Loki dies, because you feel all the power go out of you, your body crumpling like a doll. He’s gone, the God, the ancient thing wearing your skin to exact his vengeance. You feel like an empty glove, and you lay there in the sand as the garage burns behind you, smoke curling into the dark night sky. The shape of his presence remains within you, though, and your spirit rushes back in to fill the space.

Exhilarated, giddy exhaustion fills you, hell, you feel like you might even be high. You’re flying, your blood singing with the echoes of the power of ancients, even as you lay there, your body exhausted.

The jackal-thing approaches you, yellow eyes bright as it covers your body with its own. You’re barely clothed now, the signed remains of your tank-top and joggers easy enough to strip off. You feel magnetized, like you have to touch and be touched, like the energy thrumming in your veins needs their help to release. And by the impatient, possessive way the jackal-thing looks at you, you gather they feel much the same.

The beast snuffles at your hair, and then licks at the space above your collarbone, huffing. You whimper when his teeth break skin, arching your back against his chest. There’s a deep rumble that sounds almost like Marc’s laughter before it looses a growl, laving at the blood-sticky skin of your throat.

His tongue laps at the blood between your breasts, and you hiss, your nipples peaking stiffly. You aren’t afraid, not of him—of them. You don’t know that you’re really afraid of anything anymore, not when you have but to speak for the ancient power to fill you like a water balloon.

Claws press at your soft skin, goosebumps rising in their wake as you feel his grip tighten around your waist. He wants you on your belly. You know it instinctively, like the knowledge had come from your own head, and not from elsewhere.

You whine as he pulls away, but you roll over, your hands slipping in the sand. They don’t wait for you to position yourself fully, tugging you back against the creature’s furry hips, it’s sticky, pink cock pressing insistently against your already slick folds. It feels like fireworks are popping off beneath your skin, and you can hardly contain your joy.

They’re dead. Not just dead but punished, and you are free.

Free.

Your mouth opens as he slams inside, the throbbing knot at the base of his cock forces you open even further and you let out a breathy wail. You suppose you should be ashamed, afraid, you should be a lot of things—but what does that even mean, now? Now that you are this? What even are shoulds in the face of what you have weathered?

The jackal-thing looses a pleased growl, rutting into you with sharp, hungry thrusts. They soon punch not only the air from your lungs but the thoughts from your head, your eyes rolling as you fall forward onto your forearms. He bears down on you with singleminded insistence, carving space out from within you that you know you’ll feel later.

“Oh God, oh God, Jake.” You mumble their names amidst streams of nonsense into the crook of your arm as the pleasure condenses into an aching point in your belly. “M-Marc, p-please, I need—S-Steven—” Teeth close around the meat above your collarbone, and you let out a wail that echoes across the dark sand as you cum fitfully. If not for the possessive hands at your hips holding you in place, you’d have fallen flat on your belly onto the sand. Instead, you twitch and whine in his hold as his cock throbs heavily inside your slick, spasming cunt, flooding you with sticky heat. There’s so much of it you can feel it leaking out of the place where you’re joined, dripping down the backs of your thighs.

When you try to move, the jackal-thing growls at you, and you resolve to stay still, at least for a little while. You can feel it’s tongue move against the wound, laving it slowly, lovingly. He pulls out of you, and there’s a sickening crack as his body begins to revert again. You sit gingerly on the remains of your joggers and close your eyes as you wait for silence.

You hate this part—you know it hurts.

Soon, though, there is skin pressed against your back instead of wiry fur, and when you venture a glance over your shoulder, Steven looks back at you, bloody and exhausted.

“Hello, Love.”

—

You know you’re grinding blood and viscera into the luxurious white carpet as you enter Loki’s rooms, but the mess only brings you a giddy sort of satisfaction. There is so much blood—so many bodies. You’d stopped counting Loki’s sacrifices, and you find yourself wondering if the bodies number the same—if somehow they cancel one another out. Part of you hopes they do, that the scales will at least be balanced, if not weighted in your favor. But there is another part of you, a new part—but somehow ancient at the same time—whispers dark words of reassurance that you can barely discern from the background noise of your own thoughts.

They deserved it. Vile murderers, usurpers—

Their deaths were too merciful.

The suite looks like something out of a magazine, like a five-star hotel come to the goddamn desert. There’s even air-conditioning. He had lived above you in luxury for months—you don’t even know how long, not really—while only floors below the two of you had been kept in terror and squalor.

It would have been laughable if you hadn’t had to live through it yourself.

It doesn’t occur to you that you’re destroying things until the first bottle of expensive cologne becomes victim to your cold, unthinking rage as you grab it off of the dressing table and lob it into the mirror. You watch the pieces of glass burst and shatter into uncountable fragments. For a moment, you see your own bloody face reflected back at you before it crumbles. It’s unbelievably satisfying. So much so that you pick up something else—a watch, a fucking rolex—and hurl that too. Golden springs roll away underneath the dresser as the pieces shoot off in all directions

Steven doesn’t say anything as you grab the heavy looking table-clock too, and beat it into pieces against the table’s surface.

You stand there, panting in the aftermath of your rage, a trail of destruction leading across the room. Steven pulls you into a tight embrace, and you sob into his chest, openmouthed and wailing. You had watched as the beast had slaughtered everyone—and and it was right to do it. As somehow, it—they?—had kept every promise made.

Mikhail’s ruined throat, the beast feeding you warm, slick pieces of Loki’s beating heart—

So why aren’t you whole yet? Why do you still feel like a piece of you has been carved out, lost forever? Replaced with something ancient? Unknowable? You cling to Steven, terrified that if you loose grip on him, you’ll loose your tenuous hold on reality. He lets you cry, stroking your head and mumbling soft affirmations into your hair until you’re only sniffling, instead of sobbing brokenly against his skin. When you’re ready to, you pull away, and rub the back of your bloody hand across your face.

He tucks a finger under your chin, those big, dark eyes of his swirling with emotions you cannot hope to name.

“Let’s get cleaned up, shall we?” He asks with a weak smile. “Can’t go back to civilization looking like we killed people.”

“We did,” you say, looking down at the dried blood staining your palms. There is a soft voice that curls up like smoke from the darkness at the edges of your thoughts, sounding so much like your own that you aren’t entirely sure it isn’t you thinking it—They deserved it. They deserved justice.

Steven’s smile falters. “They would have killed us, Love.”

“I—I know. I know. They deserved it.” Your fingers curl into righteous fists. You remember the hail of bullets at the dig-site, every screaming, pleading person Loki forced down the beast’s throat, and those thoughts curdle the self doubt sitting in your belly. The God’s booming voice echoes in your memories.

UNWORTHY. USURPERS. KILL THEM ALL.

“They deserved it.”

You explore Loki’s bedroom, the press of a button unlocking an equally luxurious bathroom. You’re stripping before you realize it, the ragged, dirty clothes you’d been wearing discarded on the tile floor. The water is hot as soon as you turn it on, and when you step gratefully under the spray, you nearly begin to cry again. You haven’t bathed properly in months—you don’t even know how long you’ve been here. Steven steps in behind you, and the two of you stand beneath the rainfall shower head, watching red swirl down the drain.

Steven takes such care with you, you almost worry he thinks you’ll break, shampooing your hair, detangling the thick curls with his fingers. You relax against him, the muscular planes of his chest pressed against your back. He rinses the suds from your hair and skin, cupping water over your head. You let him.

As the ash and blood wash from your skin, you discover new scars, ones you could not even hope to notice in the dim light of your cell. It’s like you’re rediscovering yourself, relearning what you look like, who you even are. You feel like a different person now, than the one who’d been brought here, her head bagged, wrists zip-tied—

No, you are someone else now, someone else entirely.

Steven cups water over the bite mark on your shoulder, and you hiss at the sting of it. He doesn’t stop though, pressing an apologetic kiss to the skin between your shoulder blades as he cleans your wound.

“Made a right mess of you, he did,” Steven replies. “Eager bastard.”

“Well, it’s not like he can kiss me,” you say, and Steven laughs.

“I-I think I can fix that,” he says, his voice thick with sweet, eager confidence. You fear for an instant that some spark of the earlier fire still remains inside of you, but as Steven caresses the curve of your jaw lovingly, you do not feel the all consuming fire—you just feel him.

He presses kiss after kiss to your lips until they’re parted and swollen from his attentions, his firm hand on your chin holding your head steady as he works. Steven only stops when you’re dizzy and panting, fingers scrabbling against his slick skin as you try to hold onto him. He pulls you down onto his lap on the shower bench, groaning as his cock presses against your cunt.

“F-fuck, Steven,” the words are gasped against his throat as your fingers dig into the meat of his shoulders. “God-!” He holds your hips steady, the two of you rocking against each other. How does this feel more intimate than when he’s actually inside you, his cock sliding through your slick folds with audible noise, his other hand tangled in the curls at the nape of your neck with his face pressed to the side of your throat. You’re eager for more contact—desperate for it, even, but he keeps the pace frustratingly slow and steady.

“Used to dream about when we’d get t’do this—patience, Love—with no one bloody watching.” Steven rocks his hips into yours, and you pressing sloppy, needy kisses of your own against the skin of his neck and shoulders, and you feel his hips buck against you as he chuckles.

“Fuck, you little minx.” He grips your wrists behind your back with one large hand, forcing you to arch against him. He groans before leaning down to tug one of your nipples between his teeth. ”Fine pair we make.”

“Oh yeah?” You ask, fighting to keep the words even as he wraps his lips around the other nipple, and your toes curl. “And what pair is that?” Steven releases you with a pop, and then releases you so he can squeeze your breasts together, admiring your swollen, puffy nipples.

“The voice and the vengeance, of course,” he says, pressing another kiss to the skin between your breasts. You moan and shiver as the leaking head of his cock pushes hard against your entrance, your clit rubbing deliciously against the base. He teases the both of you, pressing until his head’s almost inside, and then pulling away again until you’re panting, hips straining uselessly against his firm hold.

“Steven please,” you whine his name pathetically. “I-I want to cum—!” Steven nods at you, his face the perfect picture of understanding.

“I know, Sweetheart. I know you do. A-and you’re gonna, I promise. As soon as I think you’re ready, m’gonna let you cum. Can’t force things—he was rather…” He pauses, like he’s searching for the right word. “Rough with you earlier.” You know you should appreciate Steven’s consideration, his mindfulness of the fact that you’d already them lay claim to your body—your shoulder still bears the stinging bite mark the jackal had left on you. Instead, you let out a frustrated whine at his words, attempting to force yourself down onto his cock. Steven clucks his tongue at you, before pausing, and then he chuckles.

“Marc says we should make you wait extra long for that.” He lifts your hips easily despite your efforts, moving you back and forth across his tip. He lowers you just enough that the head of his cock pops inside, and you mewl, clenching down around him. “But since you feel so fucking good inside, I’m not gonna do that.”

Steven’s head lolls back against the tile and he thrusts shallowly, teeth sinking into his lip before he pulls you off again. This time, he guides you to the bench before sinking to his knees on the floor of the shower. Steven spreads your legs wide, tugging you to the edge before kissing you.

“Let me make you feel good,” Steven mumbles against your mouth. “Wanna make you feel good, Love.” He trails wet, sloppy kisses down the side of your jaw and between your breasts, mumbling praises against your wet skin. “So fuckin’ beautiful,” Steven sighs, pressing another to the skin above your cunt. “So perfect.” You whine as he peels your thighs apart, tossing your legs over his shoulders.

“You don’t have to be quiet anymore, Love,” he says, glorying in the shrill whine you loose as he drags his finger through your folds. “So let’t hear it.” Where Jake and Marc are hungry, eager, Steven is diligent. Methodical. He sucks on your clit, working his tongue against it with slow, deep strokes that leave you gasping, your thighs clenching around his curly head.

“God, fuck, Steven,” sentences are a chore to form, so single words have to suffice as you tangle your fingers in his hair just as his own circle your entrance deliciously. Your hips undulate against his face, your eyes closed. The orgasm takes you by surprise, your thighs trembling as pleas, praise and curses all fall from your lips in equal measure, and you aren’t sure which ones you mean.

“Fuck, yes Steven, feels so good, fuck-fuck-fuck, please—” You’re a simpering, weak-limbed mess when he finally releases you, your legs like jelly. It takes little maneuvering to get you back into his lap again, and this time, Steven wastes no time. He positions you above his cock before dropping you down, letting gravity help him fill you. It punches the air from your lungs in a sharp exhale.

You can barely focus on breathing though, not when he feels like this inside of you. The fullness is delicious, leaving you gasping when he repeats the motion, lifting you until his head’s almost out, and then dropping you back down again, but still desperate for more. More that Steven wants to give you, more that you don’t know you can take, but that you’re more than willing to try. Your cup runneth-the-fuck-over with pleasure, throbbing on every nerve ending, choking out every other thought.

“Oh, Love,” he groans, rolling his hips into yours. “There it is.” Steven’s hips buck against yours; short, teasing thrusts that stimulate, but don’t fulfill. Finally, he sheathes himself in you to the hilt, his hips bucking softly against you like he’s looking for more space inside where there is none. The mark from where they’d bitten you as the jackal is still there, humming with power. Steven laves his tongue against it, moaning, savoring the coppery taste of your blood on his tongue.

“God,” Steven gasps against your skin, holding you close and tight, curving his hips up into yours with increasingly desperate thrusts. “F-fuck, you’ve no idea—” You’re not sure if he’s sputtering out a response to Marc or Jake, but you don’t really have the spare capacity to consider it. Not when Steven is whispering feverish praise and promises into the curve of your throat, and then making good on them with every thrust.

“Feels s-so good , fuck, want you to cum on my cock—!” He’s almost as bad as you, mumbling possessive nonsense as he slots his teeth into the marks the beast left behind. Briefly it occurs to you that he shouldn’t be able to, but then Steven grinds his thumb against your clit and the electricity of it makes you think pointedly of other things. Like the way his body feels against yours, and you’re close, so fucking close—Your knees tighten around his hips, digging into his sides but he doesn’t seem to notice, or care.

With a whine and a shudder, you go boneless in Steven’s arms, your eyes rolling as the fireworks become bombs, become supernovas, and your cunt clamps down around his throbbing cock like a slick, wet fist. Steven kisses you, and you taste your own blood on his lips as he slams you back down, holding your hips still and in place as he cums too.

“Mmm, yeah, mmmfuck,” his head is leaned back against the tile, curls plastered against his skull from the water. Steven stares unseeingly at the shower head above you, holding you tucked against his chest as he fills you. You rest your head against his chest, your own heaving.

Steven finally releases his death grip on your hips in favor of drawing shapes against the skin of your back. You’re not eager to move and neither is he, keeping you caged comfortably against his chest. There are scars here too, old ones, healed over and almost gone, new ones, fresh, pink wounds you know will leave still more.

You catalogue them, listing each one as your fingers travel across his skin. Chest. Stomach. Forearm. You don’t even realize you’re doing it, not really, not until you feel Steven’s lips curve against your hair.

“What’re you doing, Love?”

What am I doing?

You remain silent and thoughtful as Steven helps you off of him, murmuring assent when he asks if he can clean you off. It’s not until you’re getting out of the shower, watching him toweling off, counting the scars on his back—that you realize.

“I’m cataloguing.” You say, laying a hand on his back. Steven jumps.

“What?”

“I’m counting them. Your scars.” You lick your lips. You know you can’t take them away, you can’t erase them—but you can avenge them. Loki’s network is vast—your lips curl into a small smile. Was vast. Now it is rudderless, a snake without a head. You will dispose of the rest of it. The dark fury in your head feels righteous, and when your eyes meet Steven’s, they are bright with the same.

“I want to pay them back.”

fin

Hello friends! I no longer maintain a taglist, so please follow @box-of-bones-library for updates and new work, thank you!

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#oscar isaac characters #oscar isaac fic #oscaar isaac x reader #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #moon knight #moon knight fic #moon knight smut #smut #darkfic #au #werewolf au #cult au #the midnights series #blood and sand fic

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batwritings · 9 months

Note

I thought of this a couple days ago, and I CANNOT stop thinking about it. I saw people making fanfictions about a COD werewolf au.. and it got me thinking about Soap in particular.

Hear me out. Soap’s a werewolf, and the afab-gn! reader is his longtime best friend. Soap hasn’t had anyone to help him with his rut for YEARS, but eventually, his fellow soldier and best friend gets tired of seeing him so overwhelmed, and agrees to help him. Bonus points if they have secret feelings for each other.

Eventually, Soap’s got the reader pinned down, and he’s just taking all of his sexual frustration out on them. He means well- but he fails to notice the fact that they’re a whiny mess, struggling to take his knot and handle his roughness. After thoroughly ruining his darling reader, he feels bad, and makes up for it by cuddling them and giving them legendary aftercare <3

I 100% understand if you don’t want to do this btw, no pressure!

-Hybrid

*cracks knuckles* One Scottish werewolf, coming up! Enjoy!~

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You'd known Johnny since primary school, the two of you becoming rather fast friends. A shared interest over sports truly built the foundation of your solid bond. Finding out he was a werewolf didn't even put a damper on things; if anything, it made him all that more cool to you.

It was really you that followed him around like a puppy, even going as far as to follow him into the military. Everyone in your squad loved to poke fun at how much of a dog you acted compared to the literal werewolf, how much it had to be puppy love. You vehemently fought off the accusations; Johnny was your best friend! There was no way in hell you were interested in him romantically!

And that’s what you told yourself all up until this big bad wolf of a best friend of yours took a bullet for you. You gasped as he howled in pain, eyes immediately turning on the enemy as he lunged for them. You’d never been more worried and turned-on in your life.

So when Soap’s next rut came, your heart strings were tugging so hard you thought they might snap. He’d told you in detail what it felt like to not have a proper mate to go through those cycles was like, so when you found him in his bunk, halfway to full wolf form, sweating like he’d just run miles around the track, you couldn’t just stand idly by. You were going to help your friend whether he liked it or not.

“Johnny,” you called, voice quiet and calm. Bright baby blues that had turned a vibrant golden locked onto you. You knelt beside the bed onto the cold unforgiving cement and stroked his cheek softly.

Immediately the man leaned into your touch. “Your touch is like a cool drink Y/N,” he whined. Somewhere in his mind, you were sure he thought he sounded smooth, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him otherwise. Your thumb stroked over his stubbly cheeks with a fondness only reserved for him. “How to Know You’re Getting in too Deep With Your Bestie”, a memoir by Y/N.

“You’re suffering Soap,” you told him, gently helping him onto his back so you could straddle his hips. Eyes like the full moon never left you, tracking your every movement. You were only in a regulation shirt and your boyshorts. The feel of his hard length, knot and all didn’t go unnoticed as your pussy twitched eagerly. “Quit pushing me away and let me help.”

The next round of movements were a blur to you, but you knew for certain at least how you ended up face down into the mattress. You heard the shredding of fabric as your underwear was torn with the flick of a claw. You jump a bit when you feel the cold nuzzle of his nose against your slick cunt and you can tell how he revels at your moan when he warm tongue laps some of it up.

A low growl resounds in your ear next sending a shiver down your spine. “You’ve no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this leannan,” comes Soap’s rough voice right against the shell of your ear, earning him a whimper of excitement. You can feel where his cock lines up with your entrance and the slight burn as you’re stretched in one quick thrust. It rips a scream of pleasure from your throat that seems to only egg him on more.

Between the hot panting of the wolf in your ear and the exponentially thick cock ramming into you over and over, it was no surprise that you came first. Your wet hot walls contracted around your best friend’s member over and over, as if milking it. The werewolf above you growled in pleasure, head thrown back as he could finally mate.

So many years he had been on the brink of asking you to let him mate you, to breed you, even if just once. The sensation of actually being able to do it was better than he could have ever dreamed. And you yourself certainly weren’t complaining.

It had the both of you in a fog of pleasure, your minds obscured by the haze of sex. Even in the moments you were begging, pleading for him to stop, he never slowed, orgasm after orgasm wracking your body. You were in a state of lustful bliss, simply letting your best friend take out the years of pent up sexual tension on you.

The knot catching on your inner walls caught your attention. Somewhere in the back of your mind you knew you shouldn’t be able to make that fit. You tried to babble out pleas for Soap to slow, to stop, to give you a minute to breathe. But the pleasure was bubbling in the pit of your stomach again and you knew there was nothing you could do to stop it. You felt teeth nipping at your shoulder as the wolf finally slammed his knot inside you, howling loudly as he came.

Your own orgasm, how many this was by now you couldn’t recall, was ripped from you in the form of a scratchy voiced cry. You tried in vain to link your hand with that of your best friend, only to have him gingerly help you. That wet tongue was back again, this time lapping softly at your shoulder where he’s presumable nipped a bit too hard.

You were in and out of consciousness, as to be expected of someone who was just thoroughly fucked by a werewolf for the first time. So when you truly came to again, bundled up in the lap of your best friend, it was a little surprising. Your stirring caught Soap’s attention and bright golden eyes looked down to you fondly.

“Finally awake are you?” He asks with a soft chuckle. You reach up and ruffle the little mohawk that somehow manages to show up on his fur at the top of his head. You could faintly feel the hardness of his member poking against your thigh.

“Need a hand with that soldier?” you ask, voice raspy as if you’d been shouting at recruits all day. You’re handed a glass of water before you’re given an answer which you happily sip on. The cool liquid soothes the ache in your throat.

“Later leannan,” Soap tells you. “I’m sated for now.”

“You keep calling me that Johnny,” you say with a soft laugh, voice a little clearer now. You offer him a quiet thanks when he helps you sit up and sets a bowl of stew in your lap. You hadn’t realized before you’d seen the food, just how hungry you are, how much energy you’d exerted. “What does it mean?” Your best friend huffs his own little laugh as he watches you start to eat.

“Sweetheart.”

#bat writes #anon reqs #hybrid anon #cod x reader #cod smut #john soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish smut #johnny soap mactavish smut

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toast-com · 2 years

Note

Would it be okay if you could do something with Zebedee x Hercules x Lillie (that is if you're comfortable).

Zebedee looked at his partners, eyes wide in surprise.

"You aren't scared of me?" Hercules shook his head with a smile, and hugged him.

"Not in the slightest Bee, old darling," He murmured, muffled by Zebedee's fluff. Zebedee blushed at the nickname. Lillie took his clawed hand in hers, and smiled.

"You aren't frightening at all Zebedee." She replied, and kissed him on the nose, and Zebedee blushed. "You're actually quite adorable!"

#toasty's writing #toasty's asks #tugs shipping #tugs hercules #tugs lillie #tugs zebedee #tugs werewolf au

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mxltifxnd0m · 10 months

Text

𝗔𝗡𝗜𝗗𝗔𝗟𝗔 𝗩𝗦 𝗦𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗗𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗦

»——•——«»——•——«

Summary: You and Stiles can’t choose a couples costume

Pairings: Stiles Stilinski x fem! Reader, Scott McCall x platonic fem! Reader

Words: 1.6K

»——•——«»——•——«

Warnings: no use of y/n, fluff, language, suggestive, spicy, implied smut, BUT NO SMUT, kinda a college au!

A/N: This was intended to be released in October, but I could not figure out how to finish it for my life. But hey, better late than never, am I right? Anyway I had no clue that Han and Leia’s ship name was Scoundress, but the more you know. Also, it is my first time writing for Stiles!

not beta read but YOLO

𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘬𝘪 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

»——•——«»——•——«

"I don't know why you insist we should be Anakin and Padme! We would fit Leia and Han more for Halloween." Stiles whispered harshly, not looking up from the notebook that he was scribbling in.

You roll your eyes at him, "What are you talking about? I said we could do either, but I'd prefer if we were Anakin and Padme." You whisper to him. His head snaps up to protest, but a chair scrapes along the carpeted floor and interrupts Stiles.

"There you guys are! I was wondering where you were." Scott says a little too loud, and the people at the other tables surrounding you and Stiles give Scott a dirty look.

"Scott, I know you don't visit the library often, but we typically use our inside voices." You whisper as he sits down next to Stiles. Scott shoots you a glare.

"Anyways, I disagree. We should be Leia and Han, and that's final." You can see that Stiles is done with the conversation.

You squint suspiciously at your boyfriend, "You just want to see me in Leia's slave outfit from ROTJ, don't you?" You can see a red flush creep up Stiles's face and the tips of his ear as he stammers, trying to defend himself before giving up and returning to his notes. You chuckled under your breath to avoid disturbing the other students.

Scott looks between the two of you, confused, "What are you guys even talking about?"

"We are trying to figure out what costume we will wear to the party your frat is hosting." You explain, your voice low, "But we are split between two costumes. I want us to be Anakin and Padme, but Stiles-" He snaps up at the call of his name, focusing on the conversation, "-wants us to be Leia and Han." You glare at Stiles.

"I thought Luke and Leia were together?" Scott says cluelessly. Both you and Stiles groan loudly at Scott's words. A girl from a nearby table glares at you and shushes you. You apologize quietly and turn your gaze to Scott.

"We've gone over this before Scott. Luke and Leia are siblings, and Han and Leia are together. Do you just forget the movies as soon as we watch them?" Stiles asked exasperatedly.

"No, I tend to fall asleep halfway through the marathons," Scott says guiltily as he scratches the back of his neck. Stiles closes his eyes and uses his hand to rub his face frustratedly. Stiles murmured something under his breath, and Scott's face screwed up into an offended expression.

"I heard that."

"Yeah, no shit, you did. I'm the one who said it for your little werewolf ears to hear." Stiles scoffed quietly at Scott.

Scott goes to retort, but you snap your fingers twice to get their attention. "As much as I would love to see the two of you bicker, we all know how loud you guys get when you do, and I don't fancy getting kicked out of the library." You smile sardonically at them. They roll their eyes at you but yelp in pain as you lean over the table and tug their ears.

"Could you guys be quiet? Some people are studying." The girl from earlier whispered firmly to you guys.

You wince at her tone, "Sorry, we're leaving now." You whispered. You glared at Scott and Stiles and started to pack up your things to leave the library. Stiles scrambled to pack his things, and the two boys followed you outside the library.

Stiles wraps an arm around your shoulder as you walk through the quad. You thread your fingers through his hand, and he squeezes your hand three times. The annoyed expression melted off your face, and a smile replaced it. You take a quick glance at your phone, checking the time.

Your eyes widen, "Shit! I have to go! My class starts in 10 minutes." You untangle yourself, "Our discussion isn't over." You tell Stiles before separating yourself from him, pecking his cheek, and waving goodbye at the both of them as you speed walk to your class.

»——•——«»——•——«

The sound of a keyboard clacking echoes through your silent bedroom. You're hunched over your laptop on your bed as you work on one of your papers for your English class. Lofi beats play quietly in your headphones as you read through your paper for the final time before returning to it tomorrow to edit it. A knock at your bedroom door catches your attention.

"Yeah, what's up?" You say to your roommate as she peaks her head into your room.

"You have a visitor." She says with a knowing smirk on her face.

You roll your eyes at her, smiling, "Tell him he's actually banned from the apartment, then let him in." You instruct as you remove your headphones and stretch your back from your hunched position.

She nods and closes your door before leaving. You can hear the voice of your roommate and Stiles's voice talking lowly in the apartment's entryway. You hear a scoff from Stiles and footsteps quickly entering the apartment and heading toward your room. He burst through your door, pointing at you.

"You are so mean, you know that?" Stiles says with a slight pout on his face. He removed his backpack and toed off his shoes to leave near your door. He stands in the doorframe for a moment before you see a mischievous glint passes through his eye, and you catch it.

"Stiles." You say his name warningly.

He sends you an innocent smile before quickly running towards you and jumping onto your bed. You yelp loudly, closing your laptop and moving it out of the way of Stiles's landing. He lands on top of you, effectively pinning you to the bed. You can feel Stiles's chest move from his giggling fit as you try to squirm from underneath him. You give up after trying to push him off of you and thread your hand through his hair, scratching his scalp. He relaxes on top of you, settling his total weight on you. After a few minutes, he eventually rolls off you and sits on your bed.

"Any reason as to why you're at my apartment?" You ask him as you sit up and shift until your back rests against your headboard. You go to grab your laptop, but it's quickly moved from out of your reach, and you turn to glare at your boyfriend.

"Oh, don't give me that look, you know what that does to me babe." Stiles sarcastically as he moves your laptop to your desk.

"Besides, I'm here to present my argument as to why we should be Han and Leia for Halloween and not Anakin and Padme." Stiles moves closer to you and boops your nose after he finishes his sentence. You scrunch your nose at his actions and shake your head at him.

"Nope, not going to hear it."

He groans loudly, "I knew I shouldn't have asked you out, you prefer the prequels over the originals." He flops down on your bed, his head landing on your lap as his legs dangle over the side of the bed.

"Is that your way of saying that we should break up?" You raise an eyebrow at him.

He shot up from your lap, "NO! Absolutely not. You're like the woman of my dreams. I'd be an idiot if I broke up with you. Especially with the amount of shit we went through together in high school. I actually had dreams about marrying you, so-" His hands wave wildly as he begins to ramble. You roll your eyes at him and grab his chin to kiss his mouth to shut him up. He immediately shuts up and melts into the kiss. You peck his lips before pulling away.

"You're such a dork." You smile at Stiles.

"You're dating this dork."

"Yeah, maybe Lydia was right. I am out of your league." You joke, and a noise of offense comes from Stiles. You chuckle at his pouty expression and peck his lips.

"I'm kidding babe." You say as you pull away. You move around the bed to straddle him, your thighs on either of his hips, his hands coming to rest on your waist, and you rest your arms on his shoulders.

"How about we make a compromise? We go as Anakin and Padme this year, and then we can go as Han and Leia next Halloween." Stiles opens his mouth to respond, but you quickly put a finger in front of his lips.

"I wasn't done, and to sweeten the deal, I'll wear Leia's slave outfit underneath both costumes." You lean closer to Stiles, "How does that sound." You whisper seductively in his ear and plant a kiss underneath it before pulling back to see his whiskey-colored eyes darkening slightly with desire. His hands tighten around your waist before flipping the two of you around, you landing on your back. At the same time, Stiles settles in between your open legs and hovering above you.

"It doesn't sound fair, but if you wear the outfit often then I'll let it slide." He says lowly, lowering his face closer to yours.

"Deal." You say breathily, your lips brushing his as you speak.

"Deal." He says before smashing his lips against yours passionately. Your hands begin to wander and tug at each other's clothes. The room slowly grows hot and fills with low groans and whines coming from both of you. After you finished, you guys showered, went out to get the costumes, and tried them on when you returned to the apartment.

Let's just say the slave outfit came off as soon as you put it on.

#daisy writes #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski x female reader #stiles stilinski x fem reader #stiles stilinski fanfiction #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski fluff #teen wolf fanfiction #stiles stilinski x you #stiles stilinski x y/n #halloween fluff #teen wolf x reader

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therhythmafterthesummer · 2 years

Text

It’s Warm In (M) ~Bang Chan

Pairing: Werewolf!Chan x Human!F.Reader Themes: Supernatural/Fantasy AU | Smut | Fluff | Established Relationship Warnings: swearing · pet names · graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut) · bit of PWP ngl... Word Count: ~4k | AO3 Summary: You try to spend an intimate, relaxing evening with your boyfriend a handful of months after his rut. [This story is an instalment of my WereRoomies series].

Author’s note: A sort of part 2 to It’s Cold Out & Rut because i love these two and i’m weak !!

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Chris’ WereRoomies Instalments: It’s Cold Out · Rut · Alpha Dog · It’s Warm In · Love is Easy · Afraid to Lose You. For extra drabbles, check out the series masterlist.

Smut Warnings: unprotected intercourse [piv. no barrier method, but the reader is presumed to be on birth control] · snowballing · a barely even present breeding kink

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

< You: hey handsome < anything you want from the store < ?

> Chris 🐺💕: hey pretty baby > just want you > really really been thinking about you all day > couldnt get the sight of your plump lips around my cock out of my mind > fuck > been driving me nuts > ill be home as soon as i can

Smiling to yourself you continued your walk down the aisles in the grocery store, shaking your head slightly, taking items as you went and dumping them into your cart. This morning you had woken up late to get ready for work, but that hadn’t stopped you from tugging your boyfriend into the shower and sucking him dry.

Because Chris was your boyfriend.

As soon as his rut had passed and you had had a couple of days to recover–because holy shit, you really had to take a lot those days–he had taken you out on a date to the seasonal fair, tugging you along to the many different rides and games, winning prizes for you, you winning prizes for him–all as he blushed profusely whenever you gave him a gift or whenever your hands brushed as if he hadn’t shoved his monster cock in you repeatedly for a few days in a row a couple of days prior.

By the end of your date he had kissed you deeply under the fairy lights that littered the roads on your way back home, asking you ‘would you like to be my girlfriend, pretty?’ as if you hadn’t let him call you ‘his’ repeatedly countless times in the past week. You had said yes, because you would’ve been caught dead before you said no to this man.

In the handful of months that followed you discovered that he was a good boyfriend–not perfect, because nobody is perfect, but it was pretty close to it. Chris was responsible, funny, supportive, he made sure to make you feel included, and he cared. It honestly should’ve been a bit sad that the bar was so low, but it was, and he was jumping fifty metres over it.

During his rut, you came to find out in one of your talks in between waves that even if you weren’t a werewolf yourself, Chris’ pheromones had affected you then. You hadn’t even known before that your body was capable of producing such amounts of fluids, almost as if your body was trying to make it easier for you to take a knot, never in your life had you felt that horny either. You liked to think of yourself as a healthy young adult, with healthy young adult needs and wants, but the level of desperation for cock during the duration of his rut had truly been out of this world.

When you commented it to Chris he simply said, ‘Yeah, I heard about it from my friends who have gone through their rut with regular humans… If you think about it, it makes sense. Werewolves have been mating with humans for centuries, not only with other werewolves, so makes sense our species have evolved for this’.

You must admit that once your hormones calmed down after his rut and you were able to think properly again, you had been slightly worried. Chris had been scenting you, and he did confess he didn’t like you smelling like other men, which could’ve potentially meant he would be overly possessive and controlling. You were pleasantly surprised, though, that that wasn’t the case. Never once did he try to stop you from doing absolutely anything because other men would be there, if anything, he encouraged you to leave your shared home and have fun as much as you wanted–although Chris did cling to you as much as he could whenever other men came close to you while he was there, which you admittedly didn’t care much about.

‘Just because I’m biologically fucked doesn’t mean I’ll keep you from leaving the house, you must live your life, just like I live mine’, Chris had told you when you voiced these worries to him, adding a ‘besides, at the end of the day you’ll always come back and I can be all over you and get the pleasure of scenting you again, it’s a win/win!’ which had made you laugh.

You did decide to make an extra effort, though, asking him for some items you could take with you when you went to work or school or to your friends’ to keep his scent on you, which made him blush and get shy and giggle because ‘wow, my pretty baby wants my scent on her? You’re so good to me, I’m so lucky…’

That morning after you blew him in the shower, he had attempted to go down on you, but you had to turn him down since you were running out of time, which made him pout and whine and complain because ‘I want to satisfy you, babe. Please…’ But you wouldn’t let him, instead promising to let him have his way with you all night long tonight if he wanted since you both didn’t work on Saturdays, meaning you could sleep in.

> Chris 🐺💕: on second thought > could u bring a bag of those small brownies u got last time > ? > really fancy some

You chuckled at the message, manoeuvring the shopping cart to turn back to the baked goods section.

< You: sure thing baby < anything you want

> Chris 🐺💕: 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤💜🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤 > 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

When you finally made it back home you put away what needed to be in the fridge and freezer and left the rest on the counter, deciding to put it away later after you got to rest a bit. It had been a tedious day at work, and you had only gone grocery shopping because Chris had gone to the store the past three times, so you felt like you needed to contribute.

A hot shower and two face masks later you felt alive again, like a person–not like a robot crammed in an office. Putting on one of Chris’ hoodies, you threw yourself on the sofa, mindlessly scrolling all social media platforms you had an account on to get some boost of dopamine to satisfy and distract you.

Two hours later, your boyfriend finally made it back, spotting you on the sofa as soon as he came through the door, a big smile plastered on his face making his eyes disappear. Chris dropped his backpack right there, making a beeline to where you were already waiting for him on the sofa with open arms.

When he dropped himself on top of you with a grunt, you couldn’t help but let out a minute ‘oof’, your limbs coming to wrap themselves around him, pulling him into you as you peppered his face with kisses, making him giggle. ‘Welcome home, darling’ You mumbled to him as he came to place a kiss on your lips, his hands going under your body to cup your bum and pull you to him.

“God, what a long fucking day…” His mouth descended from your lips to your jaw, pressing open mouthed kisses there while his hand squeezed your buttock. “Rest here, babe. I need a shower urgently, desperately”.

You chuckled, your limbs releasing their hold around Chris’ body so he could stand back up to walk towards the entrance, picking his backpack up from where he had thrown it and making his way towards his room to start his nightly routine. You did as asked–not like you had any plans on moving from this spot any time soon anyway–picking up the remote and turning the TV on to find something relaxing to entertain you while you waited.

You’d come to learn that non-rut-driven Chris liked to take his time with you. He’d edge you and tease you and make you squirm in bliss even before he got to actually penetrate you–and you would let him, because why wouldn’t you. If you ever were desperate enough for some quick relief you knew that you just had to look him in the eyes, muster the firmest tone you could to beg and he’d have you coming undone in seconds, but most of the time you’d just let him do whatever he wanted–just like you were doing now.

“So soft… So pretty…” His hands dragged from your neck, to your chest, to your belly, your thighs, and back up–his fingers softly digging on your skin as they went, while his cock eased itself between your folds, stretching you open further than his fingers had in the past hour.

You were already a trembling, sweaty mess by this point, his mouth and his fingers alone having had their way with you enough for you to still feel the aftereffects of your orgasm lingering on your skin, feeling tingly. Chris didn’t look one bit as worked up as you, which was not surprising. His supernatural capabilities made it so he barely even broke a sweat, but you did enjoy seeing the deepening flush on his chest and his face as his length buried as much as it could within your core.

“You’re pretty…” You commented absentmindedly, his flush deepening slightly at the comment. Taking your hand in his Chris brought it to his face, resting it on his cheek with his hand above yours while the other held onto your waist, his hips starting to move back and forth.

Your sofa had seen you two fucking more times than you could count; the thing was wide, spacious–enough to keep a pack of eight werewolves comfortable when they hung out. It was warm and cosy and you would lie if you said you didn’t like it when he fucked you here. You wondered sometimes if the others would be able to smell it when they came over, if they did, you didn’t care one bit–not like they didn’t know what went on behind closed doors anyway.

As soon as the rest of his pack found out about you two they had started to tease Chris incessantly–not you, though. They smiled warmly at you and told you how happy they were for you, but you came to find out from Seungmin that they all knew Chris had been harbouring a crush on you for the longest time, and they loved to tease him for it. ‘Why do you think we were calling you mum?’ He told you at the time with a chuckle, to which you just pouted, mustering a mock-hurt tone, ‘and here I was thinking you guys actually liked to come to me for help…’ to which he quickly replied ‘we do! We just love teasing Christopher more’ which had made you both laugh and made Chris stare daggers at the both of you as he poked his tongue out.

Chris’ hips kept that tantalisingly slow pace, as if his cock was trying to savour every single centimetre of your walls. Your thumb moved, swiping over his bottom lip briefly as his tongue peeked from between his lips to land a couple of tentative swipes on the tip–almost like he was urging you to push it into his mouth. So you did, feeling his plump lips close around the digit as his eyes closed and his eyebrows scrunched together, his hips stuttering slightly–but he recovered quickly.

The air left your lungs the moment Chris’ eyes opened again and stared back at you, swallowing thickly at the sudden deep stroke against you. His hand moved away from yours, bringing it instead to your shoulder to keep you from sliding up as he moved. Removing your hand from his face you brought it close to you, sucking the thumb into your mouth to get the taste of him, all without breaking that borderline dangerous eye-contact you kept with him.

“You’re playing with fire, pretty baby…” The hand on your waist moved, dragging all the way down for him to push on your pubic bone, the pressure making you whimper.

His hip movements were slow, but they had you moaning softly as soon as he started moving, your chest heaving as one of your hands reached to hold onto his on your shoulder and the other gripped the cushion under your head. Licking your lips, you bit back. “I’ve been playing with fire since the day I moved to a werewolf den, babe…”

“Oh?” His hand moved from your shoulder, laying it on the side of your neck while bringing one of your legs to rest against his front with the other hand–settling on your thigh after to grip the flesh as he started to thrust harder, but still slow, the sudden change in angle earning him a surprised moan from your lips. “So all this time you had been trying to rile me up on purpose?”

“Ma–maybe”, fuck, you really could feel him in your throat when he went deep into you, the motions stealing the air out of your lungs every single time and making your eyes flutter and your abdomen clench.

Of course you had been riling him up on purpose. The moment you had realised that you had developed a crush on him you couldn’t stop yourself from trying to get a reaction from him. Looking him in the eyes, wearing questionable outfits when you hung out, or walking around the flat in skimpy pyjamas, sometimes not even wearing underwear underneath. But Chris, good boy Chris, had never even noticed you had done all those things with intent, much less did he make an advance–not until that afternoon when his rut hit him unexpectedly, at least.

“Is that why you’re looking me in the eyes right now? To rile me up? Pretty baby wants me to go feral and try to secure my position in the pack?” Chris chuckled, the hand on your neck moving further up, reaching your cheek to rest on for his thumb to swipe over your bottom lip briefly, only for him to push it into your mouth.

You held his gaze, your tongue licking his digit in your mouth while the pace of his hips picked up, going faster than before but not quite fast yet. You couldn’t help but moan, your eyebrows scrunching together as you struggled slightly to keep your eyes open, which made Chris huff out a chuckle.

His thumb popped out of your mouth, swiping the remaining saliva over your bottom lip and your chin. “I just–Shit, so good, baby…” It was becoming harder and harder to construct coherent sentences, your mind clouding with every clash of his hips against you. “I just like your eyes…” The expression on his face changed, going from that smug look he had when he challenged you to something softer, warmer, and it made your heart flutter. “The–Fuck… The fact that it riles you up is just a bonus, babe”.

Chris laughed at that, removing his hand from your cheek to bring it to your other leg so he could push it to join the other resting against his front. Placing a hand on the sofa for support, he tilted forward, just enough for your hips to angle a certain way under his weight, letting his cock hit that area within your walls that made you arch your back and moan repeatedly. “What a troublemaker… Not even remotely scared of the big bad wolf, hm?”

You swallowed thickly, shaking your head slightly. Heat spread over your face, the new position making you clench your lower abdomen, your eyes fluttering shut as his pace picked up, moving much faster. How could you be scared of them? Of him? You had already trusted him in one of your most vulnerable states, there was no space for fear in you.

Chris’ free hand held onto your legs, your flesh dipping under his tight hold. “Mmm, so pretty. My pretty girl…”

“Chris…” The movement of his hips was getting faster, and, as you stared up at him, with your eyes hyperfocusing on those lips of his, you couldn’t help but feel an urge. “Feels… Fuck. Feels like a criminal offence that you’re not kissing me right now…”

His hold on your legs relented, letting you move them to wrap them around his middle as he leaned into you, his mouth finding yours in a mess of lips, teeth, and tongues while your arms circled his shoulders, one of your hands tangling in his hair as Chris kept himself up on one forearm, the hand on the opposite arm sneaking below your body to hold your buttcheek. You truly felt insatiable when you held onto him like this, feeling him on you, in you, all over you… It’d never be enough of his mouth, of his hands, of his hips and his cock, never enough of him.

His grip on your rear tightened the longer he pounded you, maybe a bit too tight, but you didn’t mind, if anything the more it tightened the more you moaned, the sounds filtering through your kiss. His lower abdomen was stimulating your clit constantly, while his werewolf cock stretched you open, working you up and steadily building your impending release in just the way Chris had learnt how to do it.

When he pulled away from your mouth, his eyes found yours, the lack of a barrier now letting your whines and whimpers run freely from your mouth, joining the sound of your hips colliding as well as the low sounds playing from the now ignored TV in the background and the pitter-patter of rain against the windows of your home. Your eyes fluttered shut as his hips started to move even faster, harder, his grip on your buttock finally relenting just slightly.

“Open your eyes, then. Look at me, love”, his face was close, so you found his eyes with ease. His gaze was enticing, so dark and loaded with all the lust you undoubtedly knew he had for you and you couldn’t help but tremble as soon as you locked eyes with him. It was intense, maybe too intense, that familiar itch sneaking under your skin, urging you to look away. “Don’t you dare look away, pretty. Look your alpha in the eyes just how you like to… Look at me while you cream around my cock”.

Your whole body shook with your release, soft whimpers falling from your lips as warmth spread from your lower abdomen to every single crevice of your body, goosebumps rising on your flesh. You managed to keep your eyes open, the flush you felt on your face deepening under Chris’ heavy gaze.

The after effects of your orgasm weakened your hold around him, letting Chris pull himself from your embrace with ease, his cock leaving the comfort of your tight walls for them to be replaced with his hand, pumping his length right above your lower belly. “So fucking good for me–Fuck!”

You couldn’t help the whine that escaped you as you felt his warm seed painting your body, covering your entire torso from your mound to your chest, some of it almost landing on your chin as the most delicious, most sinful sounds left his mouth. You loved to hear him moan and grunt and groan and any time he came you couldn’t help but let yourself enjoy those sounds, your swollen core clenching around nothing as you bit your lip and more heat crept onto your face.

Chris was panting heavily, his face and his chest were flushed and he looked down at you with so much care in his eyes you couldn’t help but blush further. Eyeing your body up and down for a second, his tongue peeked out from between his lips, only to finally dip, licking a long stripe from your belly, between your breasts, until he reached your chest, effectively collecting some of his seed in his mouth.

Taking a hold of your face, with your chin now resting in his palm as his fingers lightly dug on your cheeks, he leaned in, pushing his tongue into your mouth for you to lick his cum off of him. All you could do was moan, holding onto him as you lapped him up. It was not the first time he had made you eat the results of his climax like this, and it would certainly not be the last, you liked it too much. You truly had hit the jackpot with the supernatural boyfriend who produced an ungodly amount of fluids and had little inhibitions when it came to the bedroom.

“Fuck, babe… You’re gonna kill me one of these days”, you murmured against his mouth, completely breathless.

Chris just laughed softly, moving away from your mouth to pepper kisses around your face–your cheeks, your nose, your eyelids, your chin, anywhere he felt like kissing, all while his fingers brushed over your now soiled body, only to finally reach your heat, easing two of his fingers between your folds to get at least some of his seed into your cunt.

“You’re so good to me, pretty…” Burying his face in the crook of your neck, he left kisses on your neck, too–his body shuffling a bit to finally let his fingers out of you and lay comfortably on you without crushing you, completely uncaring of his cum sticking to him.

Holding Chris in your arms as your hand sneaked in his hair and softly caressed his scalp was possibly one of your favourite activities, especially after sex. It made you feel warm and fuzzy and you knew it made him feel that way, too. ‘If werewolves could purr, you’d certainly be purring now, baby’, you had told him once, which had only made him further bury his face in your neck and his ears turn a cute shade of pink.

A sudden frantic knocking reverberated in your flat, breaking your little bubble and disrupting the comfortable silence that had settled between you two, making Chris groan. “I can’t believe them… Right now of all times…” He rubbed his face on your shoulder, while you simply chuckled, patting him on the back.

“You should answer, darling. Whoever it is clearly needs you enough to knock this much”.

With a dramatic sigh, Chris removed himself from your space, reaching for his discarded vest top on the floor to wipe the cum sticking to his abs, his chest, and his chin, handing it over to you to do the same while he walked towards the front door, still pretty much butt-naked.

Chris opened the door slightly, ajar enough just to peek his head around and see outside. “We’re fucking, what do you want?” Annoyance rolled thickly off of him, and his comment made you laugh from where you were laying on the sofa.

“Sorry, man, but I really need to talk”, you recognised the voice on the other side of the door as Changbin, the man completely unfazed by Chris’ comment–which didn’t surprise you, considering how common this exact situation had become in your life.

“Can’t it wait like… Two hours?”

“Two hours?!” Changbin shrieked. “No it cannot wait two fucking hours! It’s really urgent!”

Chris sighed, and he shot you an apologetic look. You just smiled at him, gesturing for him to carry on. “Fine, give me a few minutes”, with that, Chris closed the door, coming back to you on the sofa, picking up his discarded shorts as he leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips. “I’m sorry, baby. We’re gonna have to pick this up later”.

Shaking your head, you placed a kiss on his cheek, truly feeling okay with it. “No need for apologies”, standing up from the sofa, you picked up the hoodie from the floor, holding it to your chest as you walked past your boyfriend, making your way to the bathroom. “Pack matters are of the utmost importance, babe. You can’t leave our pups hanging”.

“Fuck, I’m trying not to fuck you”, Chris came to your side, smacking your rear playfully as you continued walking. “Don’t go all ‘Pack Mum’ on me, I’ll seriously need to leave Changbin standing out there if you do”.

You just laughed in response, a soft blush spreading over your cheeks as you finally made it to the bathroom so you could clean up the remnants of his cum from your body.

Author’s note x2: if you’re curious as to what Changbin needed so urgently, you can take a look at Finding Comfort in Autumn :)

Constructive feedback is always welcome !

Chris’ WereRoomies Instalments: It’s Cold Out · Rut · Alpha Dog · It’s Warm In · Love is Easy · Afraid to Lose You. For extra drabbles, check out the series masterlist.

#stray kids supernatural au #stray kids fantasy AU #stray kids werewolf au #bang chan smut #stray kids smut #stray kids fanfiction #bang chan fanfiction #bang chan fic #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #werewolf chan #✨🌙✏

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