#Darken talks about his fanfic

[candy-ac3]

Should have the first chapter of this Adam and the batfam crossover shit done either today or tommorow yippie!

[mostlycompetentwriter]

Thunderous

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Bang Chan

Word Count: 11K

Genre: Werewolf AU! Royalty AU!

Warnings: There are some elements of non-con in this fanfic. Please don’t read if you don’t like those elements. Mentions of knotting and rough sex. There’s also a lot of explicit smut and language throughout.

Summary: The Wolf King’s name seared your heart. You had been chosen as the youngest and most expendable daughter to be his mate. But you were terrified of the legends surrounding his bloody campaigns. How were you going to survive?

Tag List: @armystay89 @captainchrisstan @starseekersworld @melsunshine @kibs-and-bits

The Wolf King’s name whispered through the trees and hummed between the villages like the ancient stories of the gods.

Some of the villagers claimed that he could transform—bones cracking and teeth elongating until there was no man left. They said his claws could cut through trees and that his howl silenced the instincts of the mountain lions who cowered in their dens. In place of human skin, fur sprouted thick and rough, darkening until it matched the color of the shadows.

The myth and lore had been passed down for years, and you found yourself on the receiving end of all those stories. As the Wolf King’s future mate, you had also become something of an enigma around the kingdom. People looked at you with a glint of respect, bowing their heads and moving out of your way whenever you made your rounds. 

The attention that you hated. Especially when the marriage had been arranged without your willing compliance. Young girl fantasies of handsome princes and distant lands vanquished in an instant. But even if you couldn’t indulge in happiness anymore, there had been a time when you allowed yourself to dream about your wedding. 

Bubbling colors of red and green—like your kingdom’s annual yuletide celebrations—and a long, flowing white gown extending across the floor like an elegant brush of paint. Pure as you had always been. There was beautiful music in your dream, and a gorgeous prince to take you into his arms and glide you across the floor like the clouds moving in the sky.

Fantasies, indeed.

Instead, of merriment and goodwill, you found yourself trembling from head to toe, holding tight to the sleeve of your handmaiden’s gown as she escorted you through the recital hall, down the aisle to where you recognized the Wolf King waiting.

You had only met him twice before. Once, when you had just turned twelve, on the day your families agreed to meet over the prospect of securing peace between your rival kingdoms.

When you were both little children, the Wolf King had no reputation. He was just a boy, and you greeted him with a smile—ignorant of the true purpose of your first meeting. While your parents talked about the future, you showed the Wolf King your favorite flowers, handing him individual stems while your mother bargained your life away:

“A union is our commitment to peace,” your mother had once proclaimed, reaching out to softly pat your curls. “We think they’ll do well together.”

“Yes.” But Chan’s mother didn’t seem convinced. She was an elegant and beautiful woman with long black hair and bright red eyes to match his defining features. “Chan will decide who he wants to marry,” his mother said.

“Y/N will make a good wife when she comes of age,” your mother insisted. “We’ll hire the best teachers to ensure that she is prepared for her duties.”

“That matters little to us,” Chan’s father spoke, and he regarded you like one might grimace at an annoying ant to step on.

You shied away from his intimidating stare, looking instead at Chan as he designed a flower crown for you, placing it on top of your head with a proud smile.

It was the last time he would ever show such kindness.

Over the years proceding your first meeting, Chan became a man, and his reputation for ruthlessness and fury ignited a storm of gossip. 

“The Wolf King stands taller than the gods!”

“The Wolf King slaughtered a village because they refused to bow down to him!”

“He’s a monster! Have mercy on us all!”

You became terrified at any mention of the Wolf King, wondering if your parents were still serious about a union. You found out the hard way when your mother invited the Wolf King and his generals to your kingdom. But you didn’t stick around for very long.

The next time you met, you were sixteen, and you ran away to the gardens in a rare show of rebellion against your parents who had expected you to dress pretty and show off for Chan.

But that wasn’t in your nature, and your instincts screamed at you to avoid the Wolf King. And you thought that you were alone in the forest. Surrounded by the quiet of the thick foliage. But then you heard the bushes move, and you noticed a large black head peering at you with piercing red eyes.

You relaxed when you realized that it was just a common wolf—probably one from the mountain packs, and you weren’t frightened. Animals had always held a special place in your heart, and you approached the wolf with palms upturned to show your peaceful intentions. The wolf never moved, and you stroked your fingers through the coarse fur on his head. 

You returned home that evening thinking your father would scold you for running off like that. But you were instead warmly greeted by your parents who were both ecstatic. “He agreed to marry you, Y/N!” your mother exclaimed. “Isn’t that wonderful?”

It wasn’t.

Not at all.

And you had never experienced real fear in your entire life. But walking down the aisle in the chapel to where the fearless Wolf King waited for you, there was a bone-chilling tremble aching down your spine.

“So beautiful,” you heard faint whispers join together, urging you closer and closer to the Wolf King who gazed at you with the most intense stare you had ever received.

When you were within earshot, the Wolf King snatched your hand from the poor handmaiden who had been helping you walk down the aisle.

The girl quickly jumped to the side, bowing her head as the Wolf King forced you to stand in front of him, reaching down for your other hand. You reluctantly gave it to him, still looking at everything except for the Wolf King’s eyes, even if the little growl he gave showed that he disapproved.

You could hear your mother’s chastising voice in your head, scolding you for not pleasing the King. But you didn’t care anymore. Wasn’t it enough that you were standing there, giving your life away to a monster?

In the distant background, you could hear the priest delivering his lines, and when it was your turn, you gave your vow of allegiance, even if the words fell hot like acid from your unwilling tongue.

Thankfully, the ceremony did not require you to kiss him, dodging his wayward lips when they fell too close to yours. 

There was a rush when the proceedings concluded, the firm ushering of hands leading you out of the chapel. You stumbled in your heels, bringing yourself inadvertently closer to the Wolf King who held tighter to your waist. You did not enjoy the closeness, swallowing down your nerves as you tried not to think about what came next.

The crowd eventually parted, giving you enough space to walk down the steps in the open air, briefly acknowledging the cheering crowd spread through the streets. There was a distinct awe in the noise from the people around you, clambering over one another to get a good like at yourself and the predator who would soon claim you for his own. Wanting to acquaint themselves with your kingdom’s bargaining chip—a small sacrifice to ensure an alliance between your people and the ones who fought under Chan’s domain.

On paper, it seemed like a worthy solution to helping your kingdom protect its borders and fight off invaders. The problem was that you felt the weight of pleasing a man you had no interest in—someone who frightened you to your core. A sick knot tightened in your guts and your stomach clenched tighter as Chan led you to Castle Miroh—the notorious landmark of his territory symbolizing the power of the ruling family.

As the main doors parted, you winced at the sensation of the cold and harsh air inside, and a shiver passed down your spine as you forced yourself to keep up with Chan’s incessant pace, footsteps clacking against marble. It was dark in the corridors, and the only lighting came from the flames ensconced along the walls, casting everything in shadows. Ahead in the distance, you could see the outline of a grand staircase, and your eyes worked tirelessly to mark each step on your darkened path.

It turned out that Chan kept his quarters on the highest floor, latching your fingers together the entire time, even as you forced down the bile permanently hitched at the back of your throat at the thought of all the blood that had stained those hands. 

At the top of the staircase, you were pulled to the left, marching down an impressive corridor with a soft, velvet carpet beneath your soles. Eventually, you found yourself in front of a large, wooden door, and Chan ushered you through the frame, a hand to your lower back as your eyes paused on the King-sized bed waiting beneath an unholy painting of a bloody battle scene.

You will present yourself to the Wolf King, you recalled the words of your tutor. He will expect obedience from his mate.

You blinked away tears, knowing what you were expected to do next, and deciding to push through your nerves before you lost the contents of your stomach on the floor. Every fiber of your being screamed at you to run, but you ignored your instincts, loosening the straps of your dress to allow it to pool into a mess on the floor at your feet, and kicking it aside as you eliminated the remaining distance to the bed. 

You didn’t want to show him that you were weak. That he had any sort of influence that might condemn you a coward. You could not be seen as pathetic in the eyes of a monster, crawling on hands and knees to the center of the bed, head ducked down between your trembling arms and waiting.

Your breath caught when the bed dipped beneath his weight, and you gritted your teeth, feeling his hands take your hips with a powerful grip, nails digging into the soft skin.

The Wolf King will fuck you, your tutor had said, Then he will bite you to complete the mating ritual.

You had seen the Wolf King’s teeth. Sharp like razors and pointed at the ends. You would be a bloody mess at the end of this, but no one could ever accuse you of shirking your responsibilities. You had done everything expected of you, holding on to this thought of solace as you waited for him to take his fill.

“Don’t,” he abruptly whispered, startling you as he laid down on the mattress at your side, closing his eyes and letting out a grumble, completely unbothered with his own nakedness. 

It must’ve happened while you were turned away, but it was still jarring to see so much pale skin on display, marred with jagged scars and scarlet bruises. Eyes trailing over the swell of his chest, over the ridges of his abs, and down to this impressive cock. 

You swallowed hard. “Aren’t you going to fuck me?”

“No,” Chan said, chest deflating. “You do not want that.”

His response surprised you, and you wanted nothing more than to hurriedly tuck the sheet around your body to hide you from him. “I thought you were meant to-”

“We are equals,” Chan interrupted with a much firmer tone. “And you are afraid.”

Equals? The word didn’t seem right coming from him, but you weren’t about to question what was seemingly amounting to an act of mercy. Quick as a flash, you had the sheet bundled against your chest, eyes wide as you looked him over. “The mating-”

“We can do the bite,” Chan continued as if he didn’t care that he wasn’t fulfilling the only purpose you had been given. “But in the morning. The celebrations earlier exhausted me. Such frivolous trivialities.”

“Won’t they notice-”

“Who are they?” Chan barked with a hint of a growl that had you flinching. “There is no one who orders the King around.”

His dark pupils met yours in the dark, searching for something. You swallowed hard, unsure what he was looking for, but focusing on the calming sensation of relief flooding your system at his unexpected mercy. “Thank you.”

He gave a curt nod, dipping his head to the space next to him. “Sleep.”

You obeyed, wondering if you could sleep next to him, even if he had shown you some degree of kindness. It still didn’t erase his bloody reputation, and it worried you to no end that you would be sleeping next to a killer. Born to fight his way to power and rule over his kind. 

You took a deep breath, holding tight to the sheet, and closing your eyes. Perhaps it was the roller coaster of emotions weighing down on you from the day’s events, but you did manage to find sleep, even if it was troubled. Nightmares of wolves following you through the woods, red irises piercing you from the shelter of the trees, and claws slicing through flesh. 

You gasped when your eyes sprung open against an onslaught of bright, morning light, heart palpitating in your chest when you met those same eyes looking down at you from above. Chan was a step ahead of you as if he could predict your movements, grabbing your hands in one of his own to hold them above your head. One of his powerful thighs slung across your lower body, holding you in place with a strength that ignited a fire of burning adrenaline. 

“Hold still,” he said, giving you no other warning before teeth sank into the side of your neck, and your body panicked, fighting against him. Like he might take a chunk out of your neck and leave you on the bed to bleed out. Crimson against the cream-colored sheets. 

Immediately, a pulsating shock erupted from the site of the wound, forcing a scream from between your lips at the overwhelming pain. “I know,” he said, and it was barely discernible over the sounds of your cries, unashamed to lose all inhibitions at the sensation of a pain you had never experienced before.

The Wolf King moved over top of you, and you flinched when you felt his tongue start to lap at the painful bite mark on your shoulder. “The pain will stop soon,” he said. “I’m sorry you have to suffer.”

You held back a whine, digging your nails into the soft flesh of your palms. You supposed he had helped the sting, but it still felt like a piece of glass was being sliced across your skin. Even if the guilt and remorse in his gaze were almost enough to distract you.

“Relax,” he soothed, releasing your hands which instinctively went to wipe at your eyes, drying the salty wetness that had accumulated. 

“I- I can’t...”

“You can because you are mine now,” he declared in a tone that had a different flame sparking in your chest. 

You nodded against the pain, focusing on taking deep breaths, and letting darkness take you under once more.

When you woke again, the King was ready for you. He explained that you were needed in the Throne Room to meet some important people. It turned out that the King had three brothers. They were all younger than him. Or so you had been told.

Their names were Felix, Seungmin, and Jeongin. Feared and revered for their triumphs in battle.

Your Wolf King seemed proud to show them off, standing before you in an organized line: from oldest to youngest.

Felix reminded you of your own cousins, with his lithe figure, so much different from the King’s own bulk, and a head of flaming orange-red hair. 

Next to him, in the middle, stood Seungmin. Dressed in dark clothes that only made his already dark hair even more onyx-black. Bright green eyes appraising you slowly.

Finally, there was Jeongin. The tallest of the three. And sporting the same dark-colored hair as his middle brother. He seemed to be the most innocent, eyes wide with wonder.

“They are here to support you,” Chan went on after introductions had passed. “Call on them if you need any help.”

Unlikely, but you forced a nod nonetheless.

“You are dismissed,” Chan informed them after you gave your acquiescence, and you watched them retreat in the same formation down the hall.

In their stead approached a shorter man, dressed in full battle attire. Well-muscled to stretch the fabric of his shirt and pants, with serious dark eyes. “My King,” the man said, bowing once. “You are needed on the training fields.”

You flinched when the man’s eyes found your neck, likely noting the swollen mess that Chan had left behind. “I’ll be there shortly, Changbin,” Chan said, and he waited until the man was gone before looking at you. “The Castle is yours, my Queen. Feel free to look around and acquaint yourself with your new home.”

“I will,” you whispered, forcing yourself to stay still when he leaned in to press a chaste kiss to your forehead. 

“Tonight, we can eat together,” came his parting words, and you grimaced at the idea of sharing a meal with him. 

But the concept of sharing a meal with him was nowhere near as horrible as the idea that this place could ever be considered your home. What a nasty thought! This place was nothing more than a prison forced upon you because your parents were desperate for Chan’s allegiance.

“Why did he agree?” you huffed to yourself, spinning on your heel to start the trek back to your room—as much as you could remember. “Leaving me here as if I know where anything is!”

For months leading up to your shared nuptials, you had pondered the reason why the powerful Wolf King had even agreed to marry you in the first place. Neither of your meetings had been particularly impactful, and your Kingdom had nothing to benefit his own; in fact, your alliance was more of a detriment to Chan and his people—a burden that he willingly took on.

You turned the corner to the last corridor, grateful that you had managed to retrace your steps, faltering when you noticed something on the floor outside of your door. You kneeled to retrieve it, glancing at the writing and noting with a happy hum that it was addressed from the Northern Highlands!

“Grace!” you exclaimed, clutching the envelope to your chest as you quickly rushed inside your room, glancing back to ensure the door was locked before hopping onto the bed to rip the contents open.

Dear Y/N,

Congratulations on your marriage to Bang Chan - it will be a strong alliance for our parents and their Kingdom. 

I apologize for my absence - Hyunjin was unable to make the accommodations.

As you know, snowfall comes to the Highlands in the upcoming months. It will soon be impossible for me to journey to you, or for you to make the journey here. I’d love to see you and your new husband before it is difficult to do so.

Please write to me when you can to arrange a visit.

Lovingly,

Grace

You read over the letter twice before releasing a deep sigh. Would your Wolf King even indulge in such a trip? Perhaps it wasn’t even necessary for him to go. You could make the trip on your own.

You held fast to that thought, of getting away from your prison even if only for a few days, as you lounged around in your room for the remainder of the day. There was little to entertain yourself with, re-reading Grace’s letter over and over again, and sitting outside on the little veranda attached to your room to watch the clouds moving in the sky.

It would be another mercy to escape Chan’s presence if you were to head North alone, but you were afraid that you were pushing your luck, wincing when you heard the door to your chambers opening again, returning inside from your observation of the grounds to greet Chan as you were expected to do.

“My queen,” he rumbled, reaching out to hold your shoulders between both hands, a grip that was impossible to mistake. “Were you able to see more of the Castle?”

“Yes,” you lied through clenched teeth, only breathing a little easier when he released you, eyes dropping to the letter in your hands.

“What is that?”

“It is from my sister,” you explained. 

“I see.”

“She wasn’t able to attend the wedding,” you went on, saving yourself a bit of time as you scrambled for the best way to drop the news to him. Maybe it would just be best to try a blunt approach, giving him your demands since he insisted on calling you an equal. “I wish to see my sister,” you said, refusing to meet his gaze. “Before it is too dangerous to make the trip to the Northern Highlands.”

Chan grunted at your request, and you weren’t well-versed in his language to know what that meant. “She invited you?”

“I can go alone,” you said. “If it is too much for you.”

“I would love to come with you,” he said, disregarding the determination in your tone. “It will give us more time to spend together on our own.”

“Oh.” Your gaze remained trained on the floor, hopes dashed that you could leave him behind. 

“It will be nice to visit there,” he said. “I will make the arrangements. You may write her back to expect us very soon.”

“As you wish,” you sighed, trying to keep the disappointment from your tone, flinching when he grabbed one of your wrists. He didn’t seem perturbed by your reaction, and you watched as he pulled a delicate piece of jewelry from his pocket.

“Well?” he smiled, something that made you shiver. “What do you think?”

“What is it?” you asked in return, resisting the urge to pull back the wrist clasped between his scarred fingers. Even if you did manage to finally meet his gaze.

“It is a gift for you,” Chan said with a smile you were not expecting—blinding and warm. “I made it myself.”

“You made this?”

“As our traditions dictate,” he agreed, keeping a firm hold on your wrist to clasp the little bracelet around your delicate flesh. “It is meant to show our bond to the world.”

You studied it curiously, noting the simple design and the small wolf-shaped carvings engraved in the metal. It was cold against your skin, even as the heat from his body balanced it out.

“Shall we eat?”

He dropped your wrist, and you were able to gather your bearings. “Of course.” You managed a nod, watching as he opened the door wide, allowing a small servant girl to enter the room.

The girl offered you both a respectful bow before she started to set the table, laying out silverware and fine china plates. Behind her, another girl rolled in a cart, wheels squealing on the floor, with prepared food steaming from beneath metal lids. 

“Here, sit with me,” Chan said, patting the space on the bed next to him. “Until they are ready.”

You obeyed, sitting down next to him. Your gaze remained trained on the servant girls, moving about in a well-rehearsed manner as if they had done this too many times to count. 

He reached for your hand, and you did your best not to flinch. “Look,” he whispered, urging you to follow his gaze. “This line on your hand, do you see the way it moves?”

You shivered as he traced the mark he referred to, following it up and down the length of your palm. “Yes,” you whispered, struck by the unexpected intimacy of the gesture.

Goosebumps followed the trail he left on your wrist, and you held your breath when he brought it to his lips. “The same as mine,” he said, almost reverently. Your eyes widened, breath hitching as he aligned your hands together. “A perfect match.”

You could hardly believe it, eyes searching back and forth, but seeing the same line digging into both of your skin. Like it belonged there. 

“There are reasons for everything,” he said, and you felt a small flicker of shame when you read his knowing gaze as if he could sense those dark thoughts that you sheltered about him—wondering why you out of everyone in the world had been chosen to stand at his side. “I wouldn’t question so much,” he continued. “The things that fall into place so perfectly.”

He offered you a wink, surprisingly playful for a man of his reputation. “Let’s eat.”

You nodded, the most you could, and followed him to the table. He was polite as always, allowing you to pick first, waiting until your first bite before claiming his own. You were content, at that moment, to answer the questions he threw your way, increasingly aware of the way the place he had touched warming and the mark on your neck drummed in a gentle pulse.

The rest of the evening passed uneventfully, and there was less trepidation in your soul when you lay with Chan to sleep. 

You journeyed to the Highlands the next morning, riding behind Chan on horseback, leaving the Wolves’ imposing Castle behind. There was a lightness about you as distance added more miles to your ride, growing brighter and brighter the further you traveled. Even with light conversation petering between you and Chan, you had never been freer in your entire life, the wind blowing back your hair as you soared across the plains.

Despite his repeated requests for you to take a break, you were determined to make it to your sister’s palace before nightfall. You wanted to see her outside, in the meadows that spread invitingly across the Highlands, and walk together just the two of you as you did as children.

There was excitement spiking hot adrenaline in your veins when the hills opened up in the distance, revealing a gorgeous mountain Castle with imposing towers and the familiar flags of your sister’s powerful family. She belonged to Hyunjin, taking his name and crest, and it made you sad to realize that there was a greater distance between you both. You loosened your grip on Chan’s waist, not realizing your grip on him.

You had grown tired of being around him, constantly blinded by the weight of his shadow. At least out here, with the sun beaming down from above, you could feel great relief from the pressure lightening. Perhaps there should be shame associated with your actions, but as soon as you could identify a familiar shape up ahead, you were already leaping from the horse despite Chan’s protests.

Thankfully, your sister was there to greet you, surrounded by two guards. Immediately, you jumped from your steed, falling into her arms and inhaling the familiar scent of her perfume. “Grace,” you squealed, keeping her held tight to you as if it would be the last time you could ever do so. 

“Y/N,” she sing-songed back, and you smiled at her playful attitude, only growing a little despondent when you detected Chan’s approach from behind.

“Hello,” she greeted Chan with a polite bow. “It is an honor to welcome you to the Northern Highlands.”

“Your palace is beautiful,” Chan complimented, and you shivered when he drew fingers down the length of your spine—a show of affection that you would never get used to experiencing.

“Thank you,” she said, turning around to gaze back at it as if she were seeing it for the first time. “It has centuries of history.”

“I have heard the tales,” Chan remarked. “From when I was a boy.”

You tried not to snort, not wanting to relive any memories of Chan from his boyhood. Grace’s careful eyes, however, seemed to detect something, and she looked at you with a curious gaze. “Well, I can show you to your quarters.”

“No need, I’m sure one of your guards will know the way. I think Y/N has been waiting for some time with you. I’ll leave you both alone,” he said, even without your prompting, and your sister gave you a familiar smile.

“As you wish,” she said with a little curtsy, beckoning a guard forward with stern orders to help the Wolf King settle in while you and Grace took a stroll of the grounds.

You held your breath, not wanting your impatience to show as the arrangements were made. Only once Chan had started in the direction of the Castle, guards following him closely, did you exhale. Reaching for Grace’s hand, and tugging her forward.

“No need to drag me!” Grace chuckled at your actions, and she linked your arms together, steering you toward the familiar meadows.

You both settled into easy conversation as it always seemed to happen, topics flowing from one to another. There was a lot to catch up on, things left unsaid from your sad exchange of letters. Rumors swirling around the highlands, and stories from your own homeland that you consumed greedily, excited for any mention of your little Kingdom.

Even if you didn’t really belong to it anymore.

You wanted to walk forever, to keep going beyond the highlands. Escaping to a distant land with just you and Grace. A place where you could both live in peace and go about your days just chatting and reading together by the fireplace as you did when you were children.

She laughed at your complaints, forcing you to return to the Castle when the sun had started to set. Thankfully, you didn’t go all the way inside just yet, and the two of you sat down at one of the picnic tables in the gardens. As you settled next to Grace, bowing politely to the maids who brought you both a cup of tea, you frowned as you recognized Chan between the hedges, strolling along with Hyunjin, Grace’s King, down the trodden paths between the mazes. 

You did your best to ignore him, focusing instead on the moment you had with your sister. The setting sun was warm as you reclined your head, eyes closed as you accepted the gracious touch—burning just as hot as your sister’s intense stare.

“Do you have something to say?” you huffed. “I can feel you looking at me.”

Her smile was clear in her tone. “You just seem...different.”

“How so?”

“Like you’ve been tamed.”

Your eyes flew open at the comment, glaring at her. “Stuck in an arranged marriage, you mean?”

“Mine was arranged as well, but you can rest assured that I don’t take the same comfort from my particular suitor.”

“I hardly take comfort from the Wolf King,” you argued, but Grace simply shrugged.

“You’ve never seen things as I do.”

“What’s so bad about Hyunjin anyway?” you asked instead, to direct the conversation away from Chan,

Her smile curdled. “He keeps busy with his whores,” she said, shocking you with such an accusation.

“Grace-”

“Don’t.” Your sister sighed. “There’s nothing you can do.”

She attempted to restore her previous smile, looking back over your shoulder with a sigh. “I like your Wolf King,” she eventually said. “He cares about you a lot. I haven’t seen him take his eyes away from you once.”

Grace must be imagining things. “He’s tolerable at best,” you decided, earning yourself a sigh from your sister.

“My how your perspective has changed,” she remarked, finally turning her attention to the lukewarm tea in front of her. “You were kicking and screaming when you first learned of the marriage.”

“It is something that was forced on me!”

“But you’re not the only one, Y/N,” Grace said with a tone filled with sadness.

Suddenly, you felt chastened and guilty for even protesting her. “For us both, it has created nothing but discomfort.”

“I think there is potential in your match,” Grace argued. “You resist because you are stubborn in nature, but I think there could be good things for you if you just tried to make it work. Wouldn’t it be better, sister, to live with him as lovers than as cold strangers?”

“He is too wild for marriage,” you weakly protested. But your argument held no merit, and you hated the logic in her words, turning away to glare into the distance.

Night passed before your eyes, like the dimmest flicker, and you had never been more unhappy to greet the rising sun. 

It seemed that all good things inevitably came to an end, and you were holding back tears when you parted from Grace the next morning, holding the embrace for far too long. Even as you allowed Chan to help you back onto the horse, positioned directly behind him on the saddle, you kept your gaze trained behind you, watching Grace grow smaller and smaller.

Until she was gone.

Your heart was heavy when you returned to Chan’s castle that same afternoon, but your foul mood didn’t last for long. Distracted as you were, surprised by the bustling activities throughout the grounds, everyone scrambling for something you couldn’t identify. “Our moon festival,” Chan explained. “We will be shifting tonight.”

Oh, right. You had forgotten about that part, too distraught reminiscing on your brief moment of freedom with Grace. “I almost forgot.”

“There will be a feast tonight,” he explained. “We will both join as King and Queen.”

You scowled at the idea. “As you wish.”

Chan frowned at the comment. “You must be tired from the journey,” he continued, choosing not to react to your passive comment. “Feel free to rest in our quarters. I will come get you later.”

You agreed with a half-hearted grunt of acknowledgment. Sleep did sound like a much-needed relief from the exhaustion threatening each unsteady step you took up the stairs. It was what you blamed your disorientation on, barely noticing when Chan leaned in to give you a chaste kiss on your cheek.

That same spot burned under the barely-there attention. But you chose to ignore it, instead focusing on how your feet were throbbing when you landed on top of your bed with a huff, allowing tears to escape as you gave yourself a moment to purge the nasty emotions that had built after leaving the Highlands. Unable to do so as you rode behind Chan.

There were too many different emotions piled on throughout the day, mixing with a heady combination of your exhaustion from traveling. Countless thoughts also swirled through your head, and it was inevitable that you would fall under, losing yourself to the easy promise of sleep. An easier task than grappling with your conflicted feelings. 

Darkness greeted you like an old friend, and your dreams were wild. One moment you were back with Grace, strolling through the meadows. The next, you found yourself in an empty forest, shadows chasing each breath evaporating on cold air, ensnared by a pair of red eyes in the thick foliage.

You stumbled on the undergrowth, falling backward ungracefully. You only had the wherewithal to put a hand over your face, trying to block everything out, as those eyes descended on you. Fear caught in your throat, and it was the lasting image that haunted you as you jerked upright in bed, barely withholding a scream when those same eyes met you in the real world.

“Y/N.”

Chan’s voice was deep, guttural in its intensity, and filled with concern. You flinched when fingers came out to gently remove sweaty bangs from your eyes, heart thunderous inside your chest. His hand paused in its motions, and for a fleeting second, you thought you might drown in his stare.

“Sorry,” you whispered. “Bad dreams.”

“I see.”

There was a question in his tone, but you didn’t know how to provide an answer, choosing instead to gently push his hand away. “It’s nothing to worry about.”

He nodded, lower lip caught between his teeth. “If you’re certain...”

You studied him for a moment, wishing that you could confide in him. But there was still a great distance between you, perhaps put there by your own accord, but heavy in its existence. “I shall get ready.”

Chan allowed you the space, agreeing to meet you in the hallway as you rose to get dressed, finding the dress that had been laid out for you by the maids. You slipped the fabric over your body, shivering as the silkiness slid across your skin like a lover’s caress.

True to his word, Chan was waiting patiently on the other side of the door, and you hesitated before taking the outstretched hand offered to you. Unprepared for when it pulled you in closer, under the scrutiny of his affectionate gaze. “Beautiful,” he declared, nostrils flaring as if taking in the scent of the perfume you sprayed. 

“Thank you,” you offered in return, choosing to keep silent as he led the way, helping you down the stairs in your heels. 

For once, you willingly stayed close to Chan, especially as you approached the Great Hall where the festivities would take place. Chan led you into the dining room, perhaps a bit too hastily, uneasy with the weight of his people’s stares boring down upon your figure. Dressed simply in that white gown—pure, as you had always remained—and looking entirely out of place amongst battle-hardened soldiers. 

You caught Changbin’s stare from across the room as you sat at the head of the table next to the King. There was lust in his gaze. And it deeply unsettled you, to the point that even Chan caught your shiver.

He followed your gaze to Changbin who looked away at once. “Tradition says that the King can share his mate,” Chan whispered. “But I will not share you with him. So he can only look.”

You weren’t sure what to say to that. So you didn’t say anything in return. “I didn’t know.”

There was a brief moment of silence, and then Chan stood, addressing the room. “Let’s feast together, comrades! We run together at the moon’s highest cycle!”

A chorus of cheers and howls greeted his words, and everyone started to fill their plates, easy conversation flowing between the wolves like the smell of the delicious-looking platters laid out before you. Still, your stomach revolted, swimming in circles as you picked at the helping Chan had served you. You wrinkled your nose when his grease-stained fingers brought a piece of chicken to your lips, and you forced yourself to take it from him. 

Chan sighed as you chewed, forcing the morsel down your throat as it stung. “I won’t be with you tonight, of course. We will likely stay out in the moonlight until dawn. But I will return in the morning.”

“Okay.” You shrugged, seemingly indifferent. Some time to yourself seemed nice. And you weren’t keen on being outside when they were no longer human. 

“You don’t have to be miserable here, my Queen,” Chan suddenly said, tone taking on a hardened edge. Perhaps the first time he had ever sounded stern with you. “Wolves mate for life, and they choose their partners seriously”

You contemplated his words, chosen ever so carefully. “I - I will try,” you managed, recalling Grace’s advice from the previous day.

To live as lovers rather than strangers. 

He hummed at your agreement, eyes glued to your form as he appraised you with something akin to curiosity. “Don’t roam so far from the castle tonight. It isn’t dangerous, but it is your first time. Of course, there’s usually nothing to fear in the gardens.”

There was a layered hint in his words, but you chose not to think about it too much, simply nodding your head as you resumed your task of picking at your food. There was nothing wrong with the offering in front of you, but your newfound uneasiness mixed with your emotional charge from earlier—it had not yet completely dispelled itself from your system—left an unpleasant ache in your chest.

As if something was missing…

Later that night, long after the wolves left the castle, you realized you couldn’t sleep even if you tried, listening to the chorus of howls from outside the castle walls. They rang through the night, loud and clear, and harmonized with one another as if perfectly in sync. Perhaps they were since Chan and his wolves shared a tight bond, and you wondered what it must be like to be so perfectly in tune with one another.

It was these thoughts that plagued you, and even as midnight came and went, you grew more restless. You resolved to walk through the castle, to quell your thoughts and ease your mind. Even as your footsteps echoed through the halls, you found yourself becoming more awake instead of the opposite effect.

Fresh air would be nice, you thought until you remembered the wolves outside. But then again, Chan did promise you that the gardens would be safe. You could trust him, right? Or was that the problem? Your lack of trust in someone meant to be your partner. 

You resolved yourself in that moment to try. And if that meant venturing out into the gardens, then no one could accuse you of being silent and passive. This was your attempt at trying, and if it ended badly, then you would have all the more leverage to ignore him.

However, despite your attempts to steel your resolve, you found your heart beating impossibly fast when you greeted the moonlight outside. Each lungful of air that you forced down your lungs felt like sharp knives attacking your flesh. Gaze swimming in front of you, footsteps unsteady as you entered the hedge maze surrounding the gardens.

You inhaled deeply, trying to find comfort in the familiar smell of the foliage. There was a strange air of peace surrounding you, and that was all the solace you needed to keep going, admiring the way the colors of the blooming flowers bled in a different light. It was easy to grow distracted by the sight, as beautiful as it was, and perhaps you could blame your wandering eye for failing to adequately identify the rustling of something large in the undergrowth of the forest. 

You hummed to yourself, leaning down to run your fingers over the soft petals of a rose. Its usual red was subdued somehow, under the moon’s glow, and you smiled at the effect, completely ignorant of a different red seeping through the hedges near your right.

It wasn’t until a gentle whimper sounded that you jerked to a stop, hand fluttering to cover your chest as you whipped around to locate the source of the sound. And what stood before you, as powerful as the looming mountains above the castle, nearly had you falling to your knees.

Except, you realized upon a second cursory glance, that there was something uncannily familiar about the beast in front of you, and it only took you another moment to make the connection. A gasp fell from your lips when you realized that it was the wolf from your childhood—the one you had found that day Chan visited your home for the second time. The one you played with in the gardens. The one you spent time with just talking and believing it was nothing more than a common wolf.

You stumbled then, recognizing the now familiar crimson eyes looking back at you—the same ones that belonged to your husband. The wolf, your Wolf King, butted his giant head against your outstretched hand, giving an affectionate lick to your fingertips.

“I understand,” you whispered, unable to decipher the emotion in your voice, but one thing that you knew for certain—there was a clear absence of fear. Because you had never feared this wolf, always approaching it with happiness, completely ignorant of its true state. 

The wolf gave you a meaningful look, and you were struck by the humanness of the gesture. Understanding dawned on you—Chan had always known. He had always known it was you—the one his wolf had chosen. The girl who had never shown fear to a beast that others considered a monster. 

You had known Chan for your entire life without even realizing it, and your eyes welled with tears, watching him toss back his head and release a spine-curdling howl. One that was joined by a chorus of beautiful melodic cries, merging and joining together, and reaching down to your very bones.

You dropped to your knees then—a mere speck before the Wolf. You cried without fear, and this time, the tension between you and your King vanished like the stars in the night sky when dawn cracked across the horizon.

Three Months Later

On most mornings, Chan was gone before you woke up, and that left you with a disconcerting feeling of disappointment. You supposed there was much to do for the King of the Castle, but lately, it made you ache for something you couldn’t quite discern.

For the past several months, you found yourself opening up to the Wolf King in ways you would’ve never imagined. The truth of who he was, the Wolf from your childhood, along with Grace’s well-intentioned advice, had managed to crack through the stoic guard you had raised from the moment you bound yourself to him.

He taught you about the bond—how, even if you weren’t a Wolf and couldn’t experience the same emotions, he could feel each flicker of happiness or stroke of sadness as it moved through you. 

You had not known of this connection before—because of your stubborn nature—and you would always regret resisting it. But things were better, and you could see the beauty in the bond and how truly spectacular it was to feel and understand another person so intimately. It made you wonder—for longer and longer periods of time—just how deep you could make that bond.

Curiosity weighed heavy on you, and your eyes cracked open at a gentle knocking on the door—an opportunity presenting itself when you recognized a familiar servant girl entering your room. “Good morning, Y/N,” she said, and you nodded in return.

At first, you had kept yourself closed off to the other maids, but this one in particular, Ivy, had been insistent. It was hard to deny her, especially when she became your best teacher, indulging you in learning everything related to the wolves and their way of life.

She was also quite willing and open to help you with anything, even if it involved the more intimate parts of your relationship with the Wolf King. You brought it up again that morning, growing more and more confident, especially since Ivy was completely shameless when it came to that sort of thing.

“I thought about your words from the other night,” you opened the conversation, watching as she put your breakfast down onto the table.

“You’ll have to remind me.” There was a teasing note in her tone, and you glowered at the playful look she shot in your direction.

“We spoke about the King,” you said. “You told me things…what I can do to please him.”

“I remember.” She took a step closer, and you were wary of the look in her eyes. “Does he not fuck you well?” Ivy asked, and her tone was absent of the same filter that would stop your tongue.

Still, you were embarrassed, looking down at your feet, wondering how to disguise the truth. “It doesn’t feel good when it seems like he just uses me to get himself off.”

That much was true as you had heard Chan masturbating next to you on countless nights, and your name often fell free from his lips.

“I see.” Ivy nodded. “He doesn’t know better. He was taught that a good alpha fucks his mate and makes sure that she is pregnant for him.”

You winced at her blunt explanation. “Is that all...wolves need?”

“Not necessarily,” Ivy said with a bright smile. “I can teach you...if you want.”

“Teach me?” you asked, gasping when Ivy placed a hand on your chest, forcing you to fall back on the bed.

She was all smiles when she crawled into your lap, grabbing your hands and securing them to her waist. You gasped when she started rocking her hips into your own, feeling the pleasant ache resonate up and down your spine. “The most important lesson of them all,” Ivy said with a twinkle of mischief in her eye. “The art of seduction.”

“I - Ivy...”

“Tell me, Y/N,” Ivy interrupted your ramblings, leaning down so that the tips of your noses brushed together. “Would you like that? Seducing your wolf? Driving him to the point where he can’t resist taking you?”

You moaned around your response. “Yes! Please show me.”

Her hips rocked harder into yours, and you could see white forming at the edges of your vision. “Leave it to me.”

And you did, surrendering to her touches, and the wicked way she showed you all the ways to drive a King mad. 

The following night, you bravely waited for your Wolf King to return from patrol, wearing nothing but a sheer robe that left little to the imagination. Sitting on the edge of your shared bed, you caught each breath as it rattled between your lungs. Nervousness eating away at your resolve and leaving the poor skin around your cuticles abused by your touch. 

Ivy’s advice rang clear in your mind as if she were there with you, holding your hands between her own as she taught you how to please the King. You blushed at the memory, hands covering the bare skin beneath your robe, caressing the delicate flesh as she had done the night before. Demonstrating to you the best ways to please a man, and to make him beg for you. 

That kind of power held its curious appeal, and you thought about it constantly. Wondering what it would be like to make Chan lose his mind to the sin of your smell and touch. You could hardly wait, bouncing your leg and jostling the flimsy material of your coverings. 

Thankfully, your Wolf King didn’t make you wait for very long, punctual as always in these recent times of peace in joining you during the evenings. The easy smile he always offered you vanished as soon as he closed the door behind him, eyes locked on your figure clad in so very little.

“Be assertive.” You recalled Ivy’s words, and you stood on shaky legs to take a few tentative steps towards him. The implication was not lost in translation. You could barely get out a greeting before Chan was on you in seconds, gently pushing you back against the wall. He pressed his forehead against yours and you closed your eyes. “You look beautiful,” he whispered, initiating the first indulgent kiss that lit a fire that you felt down to the tips of your toes.

“Then have me,” you said against the purse of his mouth, tongue tracing that full bottom lip. His gaze widened perceptibly, holding you at arm's length.

“What do you mean?”

“Take me the way you want,” you replied. “I’m ready. You love me, don’t you?”

The intensity in that gaze you had started to yearn for burned even brighter. “You know that I love you Y/N, and I understand why it would be hard for you to believe. I’m more than willing to take this chance to show you.”

He pulled away despite the tight grip you kept on his powerful bicep. Even so, you kept your eyes open as wide as possible to enjoy the scene playing out in front of you when he kissed you again. You curled your fingers into his thick black hair, remembering Ivy’s advice, and pulled his mouth against yours, crushing your lips to his. Chan’s chest rumbled as he kissed you fiercely in return, grabbing onto your arms as his tongue plundered the hot cavern of your mouth.   

Your lungs screamed in protest, and you pulled away suddenly, shivering at his resounding whimper. You opened your eyes, keeping your hands in his hair to hold it back from his crimson orbs. You found the lust there, making his eyes appear darker.  “It’s so hard for me to do this,” you said softly. “I- I want to please you…”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Chan replied. He pressed his hips into yours and you felt something hard against your stomach. “Y/N,” Chan murmured, leaning into your neck to inhale deeply. “I want you more than anything else.”

You shivered as you felt his other hand come to the sleeve of your gown, slowly sliding it down your shoulder. His fingertips slid across your skin, weakening your resolve. His lips followed his touch, peppering soft kisses along the exposed skin. He tugged on the fabric more and you felt the fabric at your right breast start to fall, slowly exposing the flesh to him. His blazing eyes looked down at what he had uncovered, as his hand moved up to hold your breast in his palm. You moaned when his thumb started to rub against your nipple, growing alarmed at the sudden ache between your legs. Like before, his lips soon replaced his fingers and you cried out when he gently nipped the sensitive skin.  

He suddenly tugged the fabric back up, releasing your wrists so that he could have both hands when he grabbed the sides of your robe and tugged it aside to reveal your bare skin to him. Your hands fell to your sides as your chest heaved up and down to match each of your panting breaths. Clad in the lingerie Ivy had helped you pick out the previous night. 

Chan’s eyes were glued to your bare torso. With a moan of his own, he pressed a soft kiss to your lips before he trailed his mouth down, over the soft skin of your throat, down your chest, and between the valley of your breasts, over your smooth stomach down to the top of your lace panties. Looking up at you with hungry, lust-filled eyes, Chan started to tug the fabric down your legs.

Clenching your fists against the wall, you couldn’t begin to describe what you felt when he pressed a kiss against the front of your panties, holding your thighs in his strong hands. Standing back up to his full height, he pulled his shirt off next, tossing it onto the floor. You breathed out deeply as your eyes greedily took in the sight of his muscled torso. Timidly, you reached out a hand, aware of his eyes watching your movements as you hovered your palm over his firm abdomen. “Touch him with your fingertips,” Ivy’s words whispered against your ear. He groaned, bracing his arms on either side of you, moving his head against the wall next to your ear. You heard Chan’s husky voice whisper: “Baby, please touch me.”

Your eyes fluttered at his request, and you placed both palms on his hard stomach, moving them up and feeling the muscles tense beneath your touch. Your hands danced across his pectorals, rising along with the muscles. You moved your palms over his shoulders and then back down, pausing when you hit the top of his pants. Before you could muster up the courage to move any lower, Chan’s lips were back on yours, kissing you senseless. You wrapped your arms around his neck, working your mouth against his, feeling your lips become swollen from his kisses. As your tongues touched, you felt Chan’s hands return to your thighs, lifting them so that you had no choice but to wrap your legs around his trim waist. Holding you against him, he carried you into over to the bed to deposit you on top. You missed his warmth as soon as he was gone and opened your eyes to meet his black gaze.

This was your chance. You remembered Ivy’s words and scrambled to get in position. Present. The command burned its way through your whole being as if you had no control over it. Instead, you turned on your hands and knees, arching your back and keeping your ass held high in the air.

You had never done this before, and you felt so exposed, but at the same time so good, so right, and you restrained yourself from trying to cover up against the shameless crimson stare watching you.

Suddenly, all went quiet, prompting you to glance over your shoulder. The Wolf King was staring at your ass, his mouth slightly agape. “Good girl,” was all you heard before Chan dove down abruptly to taste your dripping cunt, dragging his tongue all the way up to the source of the wetness leaking from you with a single, hot swipe, before latching on and sucking eagerly at the sensitive skin around your opening. 

You keened at the sensation and shivered at his satisfied grunts and moans as he took his fill of your taste. It made you want to please him. To do whatever it took to make him completely lose his mind.

“Chan!” You moaned out, reaching beneath him to flick at your neglected clit. “More!” 

Your demand did not go unanswered. With a grunt, Chan yanked your ass up higher for a better angle, digging his hands into the plush flesh of your hips. His touch was rough, and strong, undoubtedly leaving marks behind, but you absolutely loved it. And when the wiggling muscle of his tongue finally pushed inside, you cried out in absolute bliss and pleasure. Time itself seemed to slow down as that tongue relentlessly moved inside you, searching for that spot that could make you see stars and, once found, pressing down hard. Again and again, Chan dipped inside with his tongue, and each time you moaned for him. It didn’t take you long until your body tensed and shuddered, squeezing around the intrusion as you rode out your orgasm. 

With a satisfied groan, Chan released your hips, and you collapsed on your stomach, still aching for him.

You attempted to look back at Chan, groaning when you realized he was pushing down his pants and underwear, freeing his stiffening cock before crawling back over you. You were met with a flurry of kisses, on your lips, your cheeks, and your neck, before his tongue trailed lazily over your chest and down to the delicate curls damp from your release. 

You squirmed under him as he held himself up on his arms, dragging his eyes unbearably slow from your face and down to your toes. He moved one finger down over your stomach, and you watched it enter the forest of blonde curls around your center. Panting, and nearing combustion, you found yourself instinctively thrusting your hips up, begging him for more than just touches. Growling, he practically shoved your hips back to the bed, reaching down and jerking his thick cock with rough strokes. He abruptly flipped you over onto your back, craning his neck to look down into your eyes. “Let me make love to you, Y/N.”

His words sent a flurry of heat straight to your core. You had never had sex before, but you wanted it desperately. You told him as much and could see him visibly shaking. “I’ll go slow,” he promised, kissing your lips tenderly, before reaching down to line himself up at your entrance. You closed your eyes and winced as he pushed into you. Pliant and soft from his earlier ministrations, the bulbous head found little resistance as it breached your cunt.

You could feel his face bury itself into your shoulder, his knuckles turning white as they gripped the bedding, as if it was taking everything he had to go this slow. Once he was buried inside of you completely, you groaned, adjusting to the sudden intrusion. You could feel him still above you, and his teeth teased the skin at your shoulder. “Son of a bitch,” he growled. “It’s taking every ounce of control I have not to flip you over and fuck you senseless.”

His words, as crude as they were, only served to heighten your arousal. “Move,” you said, grabbing his black hair and pulling his face to yours. You kissed him quickly. “I’m fine.”

He needed no further encouragement, as he slowly pulled out before pushing back in. You could see the sweat breaking out across his forehead from the exertion, causing strands of his hair to stick to his forehead. His right hand moved behind you to grip the headboard as his hips slowly rocked against your own. As good as it felt, you could see he was about to lose it. “Faster,” you told him, and he complied, speeding up his thrusts and allowing some of the tension to escape his body. It was a little painful, especially when he let out a low growl and really started grinding his hips.

You could feel it building inside, the pleasure of his rough movements far outweighing the discomfort. You let out another moan as he moved in and out, feeling the smooth friction all the way to the tips of your toes. The Wolf King chose this moment to draw his hips back, dragging his length out to the tip, before slamming it back inside with a powerful thrust, rocking your body to the point that you felt your vision turn white for a moment. Without giving you time to recover, Chan repeated the motion over and over again, speeding up and adjusting the angle to relentlessly hit deep inside, hips bumping your clit with every smooth grind.

He grunted from his efforts, one hand on the headboard while the other came to grab your breast, his lips sucking at your neck. For your part, you arched your back against him, allowing your hips to come up a little to meet his movements as he hit even deeper inside of you, just barely kissing your cervix. Your fingernails scraped down the smooth skin of his back at this new angle. He moaned when your nails dug into his flesh, bringing his lips up to yours and you kissed him feverishly, tasting him like your life depended on it. One of your hands curled into his smooth black hair while the other gripped his bicep tightly, sighing happily as you felt the muscles move.  

You wrapped your legs around his waist, trying to not feel overwhelmed by all of the things he was making you feel. Buried deep inside of you, you could feel him hit all the right spots, sending waves of pleasure to your tight center. Meanwhile, his lips were working magic against yours, leaving you breathless.  

You could feel an intimate warmth building inside of you the longer he snapped his hips against yours. Groaning, you let out a cry as you felt something inside of you break open, releasing wave after wave of heat through your core, leaving your body drowning in pleasure.  

There was a haze of lightheadedness clogging your senses, and you almost didn’t even realize the swell pushing against your ass, until it breached your core. “Chan!” you hissed at the combination of pain and overwhelming pressure, retreating and then swelling again as he ground that hot mass against you.

“My knot,” he groaned, and you could feel the heat from his chest against your breasts as he pressed even closer. 

You vaguely recalled Ivy warning you about this, telling you that it would be hard to prepare for the massive instrution. You felt a spike of fear as it stretched you even further, and you worried that your virgin body would suffer. All you could do was grit your teeth and bury your head into the blankets beneath you, feeling the swell of his knot pressed against the cleft of your ass. You fisted the sheets between your hands. He would split you in half, and then you would be nothing.

“Y/N!” he growled, slowing his hips to a timid roll as his knot locked between you both, and your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you felt his release flood your insides, filling you to the point that your lower stomach had started to swell from his cum. 

He groaned as you both came down from your highs, and you gently petted your finger through his unruly curls. He experimentally rolled his hips to test how firmly the knot was locking him inside and it wouldn’t budge. Your cunt squeezed the knot, eliciting another grunt from Chan, another twitch, and another spurt of hot cum inside of you.

The pop didn’t swell until Chan was fully seated, his thick cock barely able to seat itself fully between your pulsating walls. It was a painful stretch, of course, but you were hardly focused on it.

Chan continued to hump against you, long after his release and teetering on the cusp of oversensitivity, but those seductive hips had lost their rhythm. It was only moments later, as Chan pulled away from your lips and buried his face into your chest, that he growled when something warm filled your center. You let your hand wander down his spine, stroking along the individuals knots. You could feel him breathing hard above you, and you tried to soothe him back to normal.

You were locked together for a long time, and you were almost asleep when Chan was finally able to pull out, collapsing onto the mattress next to you, looking up at the ceiling. You watched as his chest rose and fell quickly until you could barely see it move at all, signifying his return from his high. Your own breaths came out much shorter, and you were aware of the sweat that coated your skin. 

You watched as Chan ran his hand through his dark hair, moving it out of his face. Looking over at you, he turned on his side and used one hand to bring you closer to him, wrapping an arm around your waist. You hummed in delight as your chests pressed together, moving in sync with each other. Chan’s eyes scanned over your face as he leaned in and kissed your forehead. “I love you Y/N,” he said. voice rumbling. “I’ll do whatever it takes to prove it to you.”

You were barely coherent, collapsed against the sheets with a line of drool pooling out from your mouth. Closing your eyes, you let your head fall against his chest, savoring his warmth.  “I trust you,” you said softly, and you could feel him sigh in relief. Simply holding you against him, surrounded by his warmth, you suddenly felt very much like you belonged.

“You and I have always been destined,” Chan whispered, and for the first time since you had taken your place as his Wolf Queen, you weren’t afraid.

Instead, you were irrevocably alive.

[firelilyfox]

Crush

Dune : Paul Atreides x female reader

Warnings: None / just fluff

You have a crush on Paul & he might have the same feeling about you

This is my first fanfic on this platform & my first about Dune. Please forgive me for mistakes (English is not my first language)

comments/reblogs are appreciated :]

If you have any ideas what scenarios I could do next then let me know because this is fun!

——————————————————-

The sun was setting as you finally arrived. It was a long and hard day and you are longing for some comfort, but everyone of your friends was busy with drinking and making fun of the believers like Stilgar. Even your best friend Chani was nowhere to be found.

Only he was there. Paul Arteides.

The One. The Voice… or some bullshit like that. You weren’t one of the believers. In your eyes Paul is just a normal human being with a talent for big speeches.

You never really talked to him more than three words because the thought alone made you nervous. Since he joined the Fremen two months ago you had a little … crush on him. And obviously you weren’t really good at smalltalk. Especially when all of your people have eagle eyes on the boy you wanted to talk to.

But tonight he was alone. Nobody paid any attention to him as Paul was sitting in a shadowy corner by a small fireplace, sipping a drink. For a second you wanted to turn away and just going to bed like every other night, but something tells you to do the opposite.

„Can I join you?“ You asked bravely.

Paul looked up with a little smile on his face. „Please do. I’ve been waiting.“

You hesitate for a moment, frowning but you sit down right next to him. „What where you waiting for?“

He chuckled softly. „For someone like you to talk to me.“

„Someone like me?“ You asked confused and watching his smile getting even brighter. Paul has that kind of smile, that makes you want to smile too instantly. All you can hope for is that the flickering light of the fire conceal you’re blushing.

„Yeah. Someone who truly dislikes me.“

You smirked. „What makes you think that I dislike you? Oh, mighty Duke of Arrakis?“

A warm laughter escaped his lips and for the first time ever you really saw his face light up in enjoyment. „Oh please don’t say that. It sounds awful! I only said it because I was in the heat of the moment.“

„I liked it.“

His laughing froze for a moment and he looked surprised. „You liked it? Are you having a stroke or something?“

„No!“ You laughed. „I really liked it. Sure it was a litte … dramatic but in the end you have a talent to bring people together and give them hope. That’s pretty impressing.“

He shrugged his shoulders. „Nah, I’m just good at telling people what they want to hear I guess.“ He hesitated. „Chani told me that you weren’t one of the believers and that you think this whole Lisan al Gaib thing is just bullshit.“ Paul is offering you his cup and you accept to take a sip. Immediately the taste of wine fills your senses. While you process his words you lick some of the wine from your lips and catching him starring at them.

Did you just imagine how his gaze darkened for a second or did that really had an impact on him?

You clear your throat because all of the sudden your mouth got dry again. „You talked to Chani about me?“

A crooked smile shows on his lips. „Yeah I did. I was … I wanted to…“

„I thought you were good with words?“ You say to mock him with success.

„I am good with words! But you have the talent to make me forget what I wanted to say and how.“ His eyes are locked with yours and you are able to feel how your heart skips a beat.

You wanted to say something but your mind were blank. Paul moves closer to you, slowly to make sure that you were able to stop him at any time.

„I like how you unsettle me“, he whispered. You could feel his breath against your lips. „Every time I see you I find new strength. But I never found the courage to talk to you.“

„But you … you always seemed so … full of courage“, your voice was not more than a scratching.

„I’m good at pretending“, Paul swallows hard and his eyes darted to your lips again. „Sometimes.“

„Sometimes?“ You asked.

„I can’t pretend that I don’t want to kiss you right now.“

You wanted to say something, but before you were able to even catch a breath his lips laid on yours. Soft like the morning wind in the desert. His hand holding your cheek and pulling you closer as you gave in to the kiss. Your fingers find their way up his chest and into his curled hair.

A little moan escaped your throat as he intensifies the kiss and as an answer to your reaction, you could feel him smiling against your lips.

„I think Muad’Dib is enjoying his time with the Fremen!“ You two were interrupted by some drunk Fremen men cheering and applauding from afar.

Paul and you are giggling like kids. Both with red cheeks and swollen lips. „Your people like a good show, mh?“

„Only if the mighty Duke of Arrakis is involved.“

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hi ! So I had an idea for a Matthew Patel x reader fanfic, where the reader is playing Ramona in his Scott Pilgrim musical, and when they have to kiss for the play, in front of the whole theatre, they see sparks, but can't talk about it until the play is over. Like realizing they're in love or something, I hope I explained it well- thanks<3

"🎶 Howwww do I tell him my exes are evil?🎶"

Standing alone on the stage, you sang your heart out to the adoring audience, the spotlight shining down upon you and your dyed rainbow hair.

You weren't even nervous about performing for Scott Pilgrim's Precious Little Musical anymore. Everything seemed to come naturally the moment it came time for your soliloquy as Ramona Flowers.

Indeed, for the play you were starring as her, with your first solo number being an emotional lament on the inevitability of Scott fighting all seven of the evil exes in order to date you freely.

It seemed silly when you read the script for the first time...but now?

You were absolutely killing it, as you could hear a few cheers from the crowd.

Even Ramona herself was sitting there, looking quite entertained by your reenactment of her...whereas the real Scott Pilgrim was right next to her, appearing the exact opposite. He just seemed really confused and annoyed..

But you couldn't blame him for feeling somewhat mocked considering he was presumed dead after his fight with Matthew--only to suddenly come back without much of an explanation and realize this musical was all about him.

Speaking of whom, he probably felt more insulted by Ramona's actual first evil ex starring as him, wearing his coat and a ridiculous orange wig that hardly looked anything like his own hair.

Nevertheless, his other friends and all the Exes seemed to be genuinely enjoying the show. Some even teared up at your incredible acting skills and moving singing voice.

Among them was Matthew, who was hanging out backstage and preening himself until it was time for his cue.

You two have been friends for a long time, even before he knew the League was something that existed. Being theatre kids, you two were more than eager to get this musical to take off..and maybe get it on Broadway itself if the opening night was received well.

So far..it was being received extremely well. Every other actor knew their lines and sang flawlessly, putting their heart and soul into each performance just as you and Matthew did.

Although....there were a few minor hiccups--such as the part where him, Scott, Ramona, some of their friends, and the remaining Exes were all mysteriously warped out of the theater by a red portal. But they eventually returned and everyone figured it was part of the play, so it continued on without a hitch.

During one of the final acts, there was a "special" scene planned that you and Matthew have only 99% rehearsed...

Because the other 1% had to be done right the first time. It was the most highly-anticipated part of this musical:

The kiss.

One that proved Ramona truly loved Scott, forever securing their happily ever after.

When it came time for the scene, the stage darkened everywhere, with the light only shining down on you and "Scott". He took a deep breath as he turned to you, taking your hands into his own, wearing a gentle smile.

You both stared into each other's eyes for a long time, soft piano music playing in the background.

Your heart was thumping in your chest, as was Matthew's as you two tried to focus on your line delivery and nothing else.

"Ramona?"

"Yes, Scott?"

"...I love you."

"I love you, too. You saved me. Saved our relationship..and I could never thank you enough."

"Hah, I should be the one thanking you...because I finally stood up for myself, and for us!"

"Oh, Scott.."

At that point, some of the spectators began to chant for the kiss--with Wallace being the loudest, of course--and you could only smile bashfully, not realizing how fast this part came up until now.

Yet for some reason, Matthew appeared unusually nervous, red rising to his cheeks as he squeezed your hands rather tightly. You didn't know why he was acting this way, considering you've seen him do kiss scenes in past plays.

But you figured that since this was his first major theater performance, he was only nervous about wanting everything to be perfect. So you gave him a reassuring nod that said "it's okay, you can do this."

Fortunately, he seemed to understand, as a moment later he pulled you into a passionate kiss, lips crashing against yours.

The volume of the applause and cheering grew tenfold; some people even gave you a standing ovation even though the play was nowhere near over.

They loved it.

They absolutely loved it.

And honestly? You kinda liked kissing Matthew in front of everybody, partially wishing this wasn't just for the play..

But while the special effects team went to work recreating the "spark phenomenon" with glitter, confetti, and more....there was something going on between you and him that nobody else could see:

The real sparks that manifested after you both parted.

Your heart jumped into your throat as you watched them fade away, before looking at him.

Judging from his face, you knew that he most definitely saw them, too.

You've been skeptical of the sparks in the past, as you've dated several people yet never saw them at all.

So...why were you only seeing them now? And why with Matthew, of all people?

Did it have something to do with you dressing up like his ex-girlfriend?

Or was he finally looking beyond that curtain and discovering that he actually loved you?

Regardless, now wasn't the time to be thinking about any of that stuff, as you noticed he was slowly going off-script...something that you've never seen happen before. His hands shook and he seemed to forget his mic was still on.

"S-Sparks.." He stammered out, still giving you a wide-eyed stare.

"I...guess there were sparks, after all." You hastily salvaged the situation with a small laugh, putting your improv skills to work. "I never believed in such things until I met you, Scott Pilgrim."

After the lights dimmed, the cheering persisted as you grabbed his hand and half-dragged him backstage. By that point he seemed to have snapped out of his trance, deciding to scramble to prepare for the final musical number with everyone in the cast coming out.

But despite him returning to his snippy attitude with the makeup artists, he could barely look your way without blushing immensely...and quite frankly, you couldn't get rid of your smile.

'Shit..he's in love with me, I just know it..' You sighed as you sat comfortably in the chair, letting the wardrobe crew swap your dyed wig with a different colored one.

As badly as you both wanted to talk about what just happened...you knew it had to wait.

For the show must go on.

........

After the musical was finished, you changed your outfit and searched around backstage for Matthew, hoping you could finally discuss the sparks you both saw.

Soon you stumbled upon him, Gideon, and Julie...and for a moment, you were nervous.

Considering what happened between the two guys, you figured all hell was about to break loose--and apparently it almost did during the play since Gideon rigged the overhead area with dynamite. It was out of pure revenge for all of his assets being taken.

Yet it seems all was forgiven as they hugged it out, laughing with tears in their eyes, before Gideon and Julie walked away hand-in-hand.

Now that Matthew was finally alone, you had your chance.

"Since when did you two become besties?"

With a small yelp, he spun around quickly, relaxing as he realized it was only you. "Oh! Uh..no. I just...decided to give him back the company, and he let me keep the musical." He grinned, although it appeared rather forced. "That's all."

"I see.." You sighed, stepping closer to him. "Listen, we need to talk about-"

"I know." He answered bluntly. "I....saw them, too. And those weren't any special effects. They were legit."

"...are you sure about that?"

Matthew looked taken aback, as he just gawked at your question.

"Let me rephrase that," you cleared your throat. "I confess that I saw them because of you. The real you. But..I don't know if you saw them because of the real me."

"...I'm not following."

"Did you only see them because I looked like you ex-girlfriend?"

"N-No!" He nearly shouted, his cheeks flaring red as his stare remained intense. "I've moved on from her, I swear!"

Part of you remained skeptical yet. "I may need some convincing."

Before he could ask you why, you interrupted him by bringing him into a kiss this time. It initially shocked him, but he quickly melted into it, cupping your face in both of his hands.

Just like before, the sparks were there. Not as brilliant or explosive as the first time...yet they were all the proof you two needed.

Now you knew for sure that your love was real and true.

Matthew was quick to pull you back in for one more kiss after seeing them, desperate and wanting you as close as physically possible.

It probably would have escalated into a full-blown makeout session had you not heard the voices of the other Exes drawing nearer.

You immediately parted and saw them all standing there, looking utterly shocked at what they were witnessing. But you had no shame, instead smiling and waving to them as you held his hand.

"Great news, guys...G-Man's not the only one with a hot date anymore." You winked to your new boyfriend, whose ears turned red with embarrassment.

The group then smiled back, happy for your new relationship and trusting that you'll treat him with all the love and respect he deserved.

Before either of you knew it, you were being carried out of the theatre on the shoulders of Todd and Lucas, while the rest of the gang--along with Scott and Ramona--followed suit, eager to celebrate the play's success.

But tonight wasn't just about that.

It was also about what the future held in store for you and Matthew.

[smolvenger]

Reunion (Loki x fem! Reader Oneshot)

Summary: The sacred timeline is destroyed. And your missing, mischievous lover has returned. A confrontation and a fear of abandonment and betrayal with his return still bring about the passion you have for each other.

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: Smut! Smut! 18+ (P in V sex, dirty talk, doing it in an office). Discussions of the fear of death, abandonment, and being cheated on- but don’t worry Loki is faithful to reader and would never. The Loki and Sylvie relationship is made platonic as it should have been all along for the sake of the fic. Not as super revised as usual but it's not a rough draft, I just wanted this out quickly while we had the first episode as our main focus.

Comments, reblogs, dms, and asks about my work are always appreciated!

Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract (smut starts at the line "Too long- Too long" and ends at "At once, he pulled himself up" for your comfort, bestie) @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @muddyorbsblr @meowmeow-motherfucker @marvel-fanfic-lover @animnerd @twhiddlestufftuff

@goddessgirl143 @lunarnights95

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

A/N: With all the gifs out, I got the inspiration from the first episode. Wanted it out before the rest of the series makes me disappointed so I can go to delulu land again here. I hope you like it!

“OB! Better hurry up before your latte gets cold!” you called out. In your hand was a paper bag with the warm food and the other was a cup holder with the big cup of coffee. It’s a sweet smell just under your nostrils. 

It was a messy room with clutter on the floors and tables. They were all broken gadgets- more than you could name. All for that circular little room like OB’s circular little glasses. Well- it was understaffed. Only dear Ouroboros, or OB as everyone called him, fixed all that technology for the TVA. He was on the other end of the room piecing together a broken tempad. He then jumped around, grinned, and began to prance over to you from his main desk. The man was as happy as a squirrel it never occurred to him that he was lonely, overworked, and sleep-deprived. He insisted on working constantly without breaks- so you always thought he could use some caffeine and a bite to eat. 

“Oh! Y/N! Hello! Let me hurry over!” he chirruped.

 You set the bag and the cup on the desk before him, glad to see him so happy over your delivery.

“Here- it’s a large vanilla latte but I added two shots of espresso. I know you always pull all-nighters. And here- here’s your breakfast. I added a pastry in as well too. You could use the sugar rush.”

He peeked into the bag. He pulled out the food and began to unwrap it, his smile going up to his ears.

“Oh my gosh! A ham and egg on toast and a chocolate croissant!? My favorites! Oh- thank you, Y/N!” he said.

You smiled up at him, placing your hands on the desk.

“No problem- anything for the hardest worker here!” you responded.

He took a first sip, his eyes always bright. He let out a satisfied exhale from the delicious taste. Then he peeked over up at you, both hands on the warm cup.

“How are you, Y/N!? I don’t mean to pry but there’s this rumor I heard from B-15! Is it true? I heard you have a boyfriend! You never told me a word about thim-how is he?!”

It hit you like a kick in the ribs. You paused. Letting out a deep breath-suddenly the mood darkened. But, you could not pretend, even with OB, that you were worried about your lover. Your mischievous, divine lover. 

“OB, I know you’re not going to believe me. I know it’s kind of frowned upon- but it’s allowed. But my boyfriend he’s…he’s a Loki.”

“A Loki?” he repeated.

“Yes- The Loki. The one who tried to invade Loki- the one we all caught. I mean- he’s been here a while. I got to know him and…well, we fell for each other,” you explained. 

“Oh! Wow! Well-how does it work, an agent and a Loki?” he questioned.

“We- we find a way. I’ve just been-been worried about him. He had to go- go take care of something. You know the whole thing about timelines being messed with and the other Loki running around causing trouble? Something is up- something serious. He’s been gone for a bit- it’s been a few days. I haven’t heard anything directly from him. He could be dead by now. And there’s something else. The other thing is…is…”

You put a hand over your mouth, the gripping, biting urge to cry hitting you. But it was too strong. Your anxieties were a dam long contained and here they were out. OB set down his coffee to listen to you. Then you continued, the most private fear of yours confessed. 

“The Loki is a woman Loki. He’s with her to take care of this issue. That’s all I know. But it’s been a while- he’s still with her. And she’s powerful and strong and pretty and good at everything and perfect…. and how could I ever compete with her- and he’s-he’s already tossed me aside by now and left me for her by now and-”

Your voice cut off. You felt yourself about to cry. You squinted your eyes shut and looked down, putting your hand to your face-hot and tight. Finally, you lowered your head to the desk and began to cry.

“Oh- Y/N! It’s okay! There-there! You know even that kind of betrayal is low for a Loki! I don’t think most would even think of doing that- their trust is hard to earn! It will work out- shh, shh” he consoled, patting a hand on your back.

You returned up from the desk, tears streaming down your face.

“Oh- Y/N! Here- have some tissues!” OB offered. 

He got out a little plastic box from the corner of the desk. You pulled out one of the white tissues and wiped your eyes.

“Oh, Y/N. No wonder you’re worried. If you ever get sad about him or scared- you can visit me!” he offered.

“Even with all your work?” you asked, sniffling. 

“Oh, even with all my work! It’s nice to have company sometime!” he answered, nodding his head.

“Okay, I will…”

“Worst Case Scenario- I can fix a taser and just do it on him!” he offered. 

“Thanks, I’ll aim for the balls,” you replied.

Both of you broke into a bit of laughter. Then you said your goodbyes, and OB went back to work on the tempad with the sandwich in his free hand. 

You went about. Wiping tears off your hand. Maybe it was good to do just some office work. Focus on that- yes. It was comforting- to have something to consume your thoughts, your worries. If there was still a heart beating in his lover’s chest or if it stopped. Or if he abandoned your bed for the embrace of someone else. 

But then you heard- Kang was killed. The sacred timeline destroyed. It was an emergency, yet every single agent was running like a chicken with their head chopped off. 

Everything was going into chaos. The sacred timeline was destroyed. Everything was now free and open. Every timeline was shattered and now anything and everything could happen. Ravonna shoved paperwork into your chest.

“Here- Y/N! Take these and get them to HR! Now!” she requested. 

You clasped a file full of paperwork. Then you set off, clutching it to your chest. The view of the tall buildings, statues, and everything always makes your chest soften with its beauty. The bright lights. The sheer size of the place. You let in a deep breath to admire the sight. 

There was a noise. Footsteps. Intuitively, you turned your head for the sound. And the source ran before you.

Loki.

His shirt was a little torn in his rolled-up sleeves and his eyes wide, but it was him. His shirt was sweaty and tight. Buttons askew. His curls wild and free. He was more beautiful than you had ever seen him before. 

He paused, screeching his steps to a halt. You let out a small scream in spite of yourself, dropping the papers to your feet. Down they came in a cascade to the floor. You covered your mouth.

“...Y/N…” he panted out.

“Loki…is it…is it you…”

From the back, there was a voice crying. “There he is! Get him!”’

He looked in a panic and then turned around.

“Y/N- I’m-I’m-I missed you. I love you-but-but-but-”

More charging footsteps. He looked over at the balcony.

“Meet me down there!”

In a heartbeat, he threw himself over the balcony. You ran over.

“Loki- no!” you cried.

You looked down and saw him fall down through the air- but you knew the air would land him. It would be soft. Mobius ran by you- eyes wide. The agents, armed and ready. You peeked as he fell down, down, down. 

Not after- no- not after this time! To lose him again!

You ran. You chased him until you were breathless. Things were falling. TVA agents went after him. But you were steadfast- your heart racing in your ears. What mattered more was him. Timeline be damned- it was already. There was nothing else to do now, that mattered- but him!

You sprinted down the steps. Ran harder and faster. Tears threatening to come out.

He’s back- he’s back- he’s back!

“Loki! Loki I’m here! Don’t you-don’t you dare you fucker- you bastard, I’ll-” you cursed, breathless as you reached the last steps and got out to the floor. 

You looked around the place- searching, searching everywhere. Technology was malfunctioning- sparks flew from computers and screens. Agents everywhere still scattering. Alarms still went on, blasting into your ears. Agents were running all over the place. You looked around-seeing everything. Checking every room as people ran about. As a group gathered to watch the timeline break into pieces on a screen- you didn’t hear him behind you.

You felt two strong arms grab around you and pull you to a corner- a hand over your mouth so you couldn’t scream. Someone got you! But you could smell his sweat, his scent. Your eyes turned over-it was none other than your beloved Loki. 

“Y/N- here- we have to hide!” he said.

He practically dragged you over to the next room, shutting the door and locking it. It was a smaller, private space. A TVA office room was abandoned. Nothing but desks full of papers and computers but not a soul. Only the giant screen above detailing the sacred timeline’s downfall. Though you still heard alarms. The bustle of people from just outside. So much going on. But it was background noise to you now. You stood your ground, your hands gripping the skirt you wore for work. 

Loki went over and hugged you, your hands went up to embrace him back but were frozen mid-air.

“I needed to help the timeline!” he cried, releasing the hug. 

“You are needed here!” you insisted.

“Kang is at the loose- he has variants! I’ve been betrayed-”

“You think you’re the one betrayed!? What’s this I hear about a woman Loki you’ve been with?!”

“Wait- you mean Sl-”

In a heartbeat, you raised your hand and slapped him hard across the cheek. His head switched to the side, and the click of your hand hitting hard against his face echoed in the empty office. He caught it and nursed it with his hand. Tears fell down you again.

Then he quickly leaned over and grabbed yours. He pulled you to him, forcing you to look him in the eye. The red light of the alarms all over the office- turning red, then the familiar wan yellow of work. It glowed against his white skin, making him seem even more beautiful. 

“Y/N, I swear to you on my mother’s grave-she is no more than a sister to me! We worked together. No more than that. She kept telling me to shut up about you. Because-because I missed you so much and kept telling her how wonderful you were! I thought we could work together- but she didn’t. She did the one thing I begged her not to do- she broke the timeline- And now- now everything’s fallen apart-”

“I waited all this time and not a word from you!” you shouted. You didn’t care if it was petty. If it was being a helicopter girlfriend. You had stuffed your worries inside you for too long, and now it was out in the open. “Loki- I Was scared for you! You could have died and I would have never known!”

He put both his large hands on your face. Looking right at you.

“Y/N- with all of my heart- I am so sorry I vanished.” 

You had no words. He kept speaking to you, soft despite the chaos. Your mouth opened a little, but you had no words. You saw Loki was crying a little too as he continued. 

“If I could write to you- teleport to you- drag myself to your feet and beg for you I would! If I could even teleport to look at you- one tiny glance at you. To say one word to you- I would. It was impossible. But the stakes were high. I had to hurry. I did this because I feared for the safety of every person here- and most of all for you! Do you understand how scared I was when I saw how powerful Kang is!? That his variants could hurt you?! Norns- thank norns. I’m alive to see you again. To see you, hear your voice, touch you- Y/N, you’re safe-that is all I want. For you to be safe. Can you forgive me?”

You raised a hand to touch his.

“Loki, I…I…I’m so sorry I yelled-I…I forgive y-”

You never finished. His lips cracked onto yours.

 He groaned and you settled into it. He was needy- desperate. Too long, too long. You had forgotten how much his lips, his touch made you weak and craving more every time. His hands all over you. He turned you around, so you felt his erection against your covered ass. So he could kiss you, touch his hands over your breasts. He was kissing every bit of your neck he could, almost like biting into you- devouring and savoring you all over again like the first night you joined. He pressed his hips a little further so you could feel his hardening and you let out a gasp.

“Hel, do you feel what you do to me-even now-they’re all out to prune me again, to catch me, and all I want is your sweet warmth inside me-”

There was a slight explosion upstairs. The building shuddered. He kissed you further. Grinding a little into your hips. You felt your own panties suddenly dampen as if you stepped in a lake. You let out a gasp. He kept kissing you- his hands all over your nice, professional blouse and dress. Fingers wide to touch you, memorize you again. You turned around tugging at him-kissing him so much. Feeling his holster on his back-running a hand through his soft, beautiful curls you loved so much.

“Y/N-Y/N please-please-take me inside you- now-It’s been too long-”

“Yes- Yes, I will,” you voiced.  

The floor was shaking a little, there was a rumble like a small earthquake. People’s desk decorations, plants, and photos, were beginning to wobble if not fall over. He gathered your skirt up.

“Quick- be quick darling-they’re looking for me. We don’t have time,” Loki rasped.

He pulled you down. Holding you so that he laid down and you were on top. You clutched at his buttons. Hands shaking, ripping them apart- displaying his body, so pale, muscled, beautiful. His large hands went up to your hems, your tights. He grabbed your legs so hard- so close to him. Never to leave. Fingers digging into your skin. 

“Gods- my beautiful, desperate goddess- come on, dear- just spread your legs-now- hurry-”

You could hardly breathe as he took your skirt and bunched it to your hips. Exposing you to him. You began to grind on him- keeping yourself in the heat of your desire for him. And his for you, nearly ripping it further. He then took his hands over your breasts, your shirt-ripping buttons that came off-they splattered on the floor. Your chest exposed like his.  He kissed and touched your breast. Then in a split second, his hands went to your soaking panties.

“Nrgh- this- now this is what I need-no-no time- forgive me-again-”

 He then moved his hands up and his strong arms flexed as he ripped your panties in half.t- ripping so that your pussy was out and exposed. With trembling fingers, you went down to his pants. Quickly unbuttoning it. He adjusted his hips so that he was out.  He adjusted himself quickly, so his cock came free- so large and hard.

“Darling-just-just let me- let me-here-” he breathed out. In a second, he pushed your hips down so he sheathed inside you. You let out a gasp- he fit well- already all of him in. 

You spread your legs and got on him. Immediately setting at a pace. Fast, desperate. There was another shudder and papers flew. He began to thrust. Your breasts bounced in turn- it was hitting the right spot, a deep spot. So quick and deep, you were letting out moans. But with the alarms and cacophony of sounds you blended in. 

“L-L-Loki-I-I-” you breathed out.

He thrust thrust thrust so fast in you- it was so out of control. You were losing your breath. Another sound of electric and you let out a moan. You took a trembling hand. You found one of his daggers, despite the pounding into your bouncing body. You took it out-holding the blade to his throat, still thrusting. 

“If-If you ever- ever cheat on me I will-I’ll kill the both of you!” you hissed. 

He only smiled as he felt the blade.

“Yes- Y/N- to be killed by-by-fuck- you. Even- Even a god would want to die like that.”

He then gripped your arm and tipped it around so that it was thrown out of your hands onto the floor. Then he gripped your hips, thrusting still at that pace. Keeping you there. His hands move to feel your skin, memorize you.

“Yes-yes-Yes there-there, sweet girl- you’ve missed this cock- I’ve missed this sweet pussy of yours-wet and desperate-”

He groaned as he thrust into you. Your breasts in your bra bouncing, almost coming out. You reached a hand down- feeling his shoulders- his exposed chest with the little hairs. His hand reached down. Your clit was swollen and ready. He began to play with it- meeting the wild, desperate pace of his thrusting. Papers flew from the desk over the floor. 

“Lo-Loki I- ah! Yes, I- ah- fuck-just-just keep…keep going yes-”

He groaned, his neck straining-

“Yes- little goddess here- I-do -I-I I- fuck-what about you and those men at the TVA-shit-leering at you- can they-nrgh- give you pleasure- no other agent- no other person- can- can dare-dare touch you-you’re mine, all mine-none can fuck you here-yes- keep-dammit-dammit- just cum, cum, my dear-just-”

He pounded you into a fury- you bounced around, so much it was getting too much, your pleasure going up, you could feel it building- you gripped onto his shoulders, feeling everything about to clench. Rising up, up, as wild as the alarms blaring around you. 

‘Yes-Yes-Loki- I’m-I’m goingtocumI’mgoingto-”

Your voice kept hitching up high, then higher. Like little gasps, almost small screams- the near release. He kept at his pace.

“Yes- yes, my dear- go-go I’m about to-yes-go with me darling- cum now, cum sweet gril-Cum, dammit-CUM!”

With a high gasp, it broke on you. Everything in your muscles released. You got dizzy. You felt his own cum shoot out inside you. Your breath was held and you felt him relax beneath you. He pulled out of you.

 At once he pulled himself up, touching your forehead. All the noise had gone- there was just the two of you now. Not wanting one bit of you apart.  

“Y/N- I promise. Nothing is going to keep my little pet away from me. Whatever happens now- we face it together.”

You nodded, nuzzling into him. It seemed the panic had settled. The alarms and lights went back to silent normalcy. Even with the chatter and footsteps, here in the little office, things seemed peaceful.

“Loki- I understand. You have great, important things. You’re doing the right thing- but…if I can be with you- if there is anything I can do to help- I’ll do it.”

“I love you so much- and I’ve missed you so much, my Y/N.”

“I’ve missed you too,” you replied. 

Getting up, you helped each other readjust your clothes. Button back each other’s shirts. He kissed you again and you both hurried out clutching hands. You didn’t know what would happen next, but his hand was in yours. That was all you needed for now. 

[maximwtf]

Hello person- I must say I love reading your lil fanfics always keeps me busy when It's in the middle of the night and I can't sleep lmao.

If I may, if you are still accepting requests- A Legolas x reader, where the reader isn't aware of a custom that elves have about braiding their hair and basically just accidentally confesses to him when they get bored one day and just start braiding his hair and only finds out when the Fellowship congratulates them for confessing or something along those lines hehehe

Legolas x reader

words: 1930

google docs pages: 3

warnings: none? fluff :D 

opening: One day while you’re bored, you begin to braid Legolas’ hair, unaware of its meaning to the elves. It’s only later, when you find out the message behind it. 

AN// Thank you so much for this request, love the idea! (this also gives me a reason to not write the other ideas I've been putting off xd) idk if this is a little ooc, but I hope it’s okay^^ It’s also lovely to hear that you enjoy my work!^^ Reader can be any gender !

         “A time for congratulations?”

It hadn’t been long since you had joined the fellowship from Rivendell, like most of the others had too. The only one you knew better than the others was Legolas. Him you had met more than a few times in the past, mostly as an accident, but you did genuinely enjoy his company. You’d never admit it to anyone in the group, but you were happy that he had been the one from Mirkwood to join. You heard it had been his father who had suggested befriending Aragorn to him, and it was when Legolas had begun to look for Aragorn that he had met you. Aragorn you had only met a few times, and back then only knew him as “strider” like most. The others you had only met when the Fellowship had been formed, but all of them had seemed okay. 

Now, trailing behind Legolas, you examined your surroundings silently. Old trees with roots going all across the forest blocked the view on your right and on the left only a few trees were growing, enjoying the sun they were able to get. The trees on the left casted dark shadows on the almost non existent road you were walking on. Gandalf had seemed to be very certain that there was a trail going here, but you weren’t so sure. But since no one else had doubted him, you had decided to just follow along. At least you weren’t going to get lost alone.

As your gaze moved from left to right, amazed by the sturdy old trees, being able to stand for such a long time, you noticed Legolas turning to look at you for a moment. It was only for a split second, but it made you humm to yourself. Perhaps he was happy to see you too. It was rarely that you could spend more time with him, mostly just short bump ins every now and then. He was a prince, and probably had a lot to do.

The group seemed to have noticed the darkened shadows of the trees, and decided to set camp for the night. The sun seemed to be setting, making the casted shadows even darker before the sky would begin to follow along. Spreading the darkness of the upcoming night all over.

You had agreed to take the first watch shift of the night before anyone could steal it from you. You’d rather stay up late and go to sleep than wake up in the middle of the night to take your turn. Boromir and Gimi seemed to have collected some bigger pieces of wood and some sticks that Aragorn had been able to set on fire to create a campfire. Legolas, you and the hobbits helped to bring some rocks and logs around the fire so everyone could sit. Sam had requested if he could make something to eat, and surprisingly enough no one had disagreed. The start of the night seemed to be going smoothly. 

As Sam had begun to cook some kind of a soup or a stew, everyone else had spread around the fire. Some were fixing up their weapons and others just talking. You swore you had seen Merry and Pippin bothering Boromir too. You on the other hand had found a spot close to the fire. Most of the ‘seats’ had been taken, but that just allowed you to sit closer to the warming flames of the campfire. Legolas had seated himself near you. You could hear him lowering his bow and the quiver against the log he was sitting on. Other than that and the quiet talking, the only noise you could hear was the mixing of the soup Sam was making. Sometimes the ladle would hit the edges of the saucepan, causing a small noise to break the silent gaps.The moon was only a half, but since there weren't a lot of clouds in the sky, it was able to shine its light all over the forest. At times it felt like time had stopped after the sun had started to go down, and was still shining some light over the fellowship. It was only the cold night air that let you know it indeed was almost time to go and rest. 

You shivered under your clothes, pulling the cloak closer to you, making sure it was properly over your shoulders. Something rustled behind you, and soon another cape was placed over you. A small ‘huh?’ left your mouth as you turned to look who it was. Legolas clipped the front clip shut so the cloack wouldn’t fall off of you. “You seemed cold.” He said, smiling slightly as he sat back down. “I- Thank you.” You said, still confused by the gesture. “Aren’t you going to be cold?” You then asked, feeling bad if he’d have to freeze because of you. The elf laughed lightly at your question and shook his head. “Elves can tolerate the cold better than humans, therefore you should keep it.” He explained to you. 

You had never really thought of how different you were to him. Sure, you were friends with him, but you had no idea that the elves could tolerate the cold better than humans. Maybe you’d find out something else about him as the fellowship continued. This had to only one from many things that made elves so different from you. 

You noticed that the faint light of the moon made his almost white hair look magical. The usually well braided strands of hair had opened up from the fighting the group had gone through with a few orcs earlier that day. You had noticed that the prince usually kept his hair well done, but maybe he hadn’t noticed yet. 

Not being sure if you’d embarrass him if you pointed it out, you got up and sat next to him. You weren’t an elf but you had gotten your hair done before and over the years learned how to braid hair in different styles. So without another word, you took a hold of one of the half opened braids and began to undo it completely. Legolas seemed to have tensed up for a moment and you felt his eyes on you, but to your surprise he soon turned his gaze away and let you continue. 

You braided the first strand of hair, pulling it behind his ear the way you’d seen him usually have them. After starting to fix the other one, you felt another pair of eyes on the two of you. With a quick look you found out who it was. Aragorn was sitting on the other side of the campfire with an amused look on his face. Not understanding what he had found amusing, you kept on working on Legolas’ hair. The prince’s hair was smooth and easy to work with. Humming to yourself, “you have lovely hair.” You said quietly, seeing the man shiver, but saying nothing about it. You were enjoying the moment, getting to feel closer to your friend for once. The warmth of Legolas’ cloak and the fire kept you warm and protected from the gusts of wind. The smell of the soup Sam had made was good, and it felt great to know you were going to be eating something that not only would taste good but also would be warm. You felt like you had only been eating bread and apples for such a long time. 

You finished the other braid and mixed it in with the unbraided parts of his hair. “Both are fixed again.” You hummed mostly to yourself but out loud so Legolas could hear it too. You felt his eyes on you for a moment before they moved to Sam, when he handed the both of you a bowl with some steaming soup in it. You thanked the hobbit with a nod, and began to eat. From the corner of your eye, you caught Aragorn telling Gimli something and them both silently laughing. Trying not to pay no mind to the conversation, you couldn't help but to wonder if it was about what Aragorn had found so amusing earlier?

After that night, many more passed. Some worse and some just as good, but what kept everyone going was the mission and the people in the fellowship. Legolas never mentioned anything about you braiding his hair, and he even let you do it once or twice after. But after every time, it felt like more eyes were on the two of you. It was first only Aragorn, then Gimli joined and soon even Gandalf was in on it. At times it felt like even Legolas knew what was going on. 

After some time of you being oblivious of what had been going on, you decided to bring it up. You had so many theories of what they could have been up to, that you just had to find out. Making your way from the back of the group to where Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli were, you prepared yourself. “What are you hiding from me?” This got the attention of the three, all of them slowing down their walking speed a little. “Whatever do you mean?” Legolas asked, giving Aragorn a quick look, almost as if he was trying to tell the man something. “You all clearly have been sharing a rumor or something along the lines of that.” You replied, but didn’t get an answer from anyone for a moment. “You should tell them.” Gandalf’s voice rang from the front of the group, clearly also aware of what you were talking about. “It isn’t a rumor per say.” Gimli started, looking at Aragorn for a moment, hoping he’d take it from there. You saw Legolas look away, not taking part in the conversation. “We wished to congratulate you on confessing to Legolas.” Your eyes widened for a moment, and without even wanting to, a “what?” Left your mouth. “They weren’t aware, Aragorn.” Legolas finally joined in, looking at his friend. “What is this all about?” You tilted your head. “When you braid his hair. See, to elves it has a significant meaning behind it.” Aragorn tried to explain. Your hand traveled over your mouth, clearly shocked. “And you didn't think to tell me?” You blushed slightly, smacking Legolas’ arm lightly. He stopped, taking a light hold of your hand to pause you as well. “I wanted to explain it to you but I found that..” He tried to look for words for a moment, and you let him. “I found that I cared for you that way, and I wasn’t certain if you had found the meaning yourself...” His eyes met yours again, after traveling for a moment. You stayed silent, not even noticing that the rest of the fellowship had also stopped near the two of you. “But I am aware that I should have told-” Legolas broke the silence but you stopped him before he could finish. “It’s all okay. I feel similar.” You admitted, looking away for a second. “Is this a better time for congratulations?” Gimli’s voice asked from behind you as Aragorn walked closer as well. “Yes, yes it is.” You smiled and turned back to Legolas. His eyes looked at you with admiration in them. “Gi Melin.” (I love you)

[jealousjersey]

౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆buzzed ౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆

꩜ boyfriend!dom!josh futturman uses a vibrator on you for the first time blurb

꩜ tags // josh futturman x reader, vibrator using, smut, 18+ fanfic, futureman fanfic, porn without plot

꩜ mentions // hitachi wand, sub!reader, toy usage, whimpering, moaning, twitching, quivering, whispering, pillow talk, dirty talk, praise, fingering, eating out

꩜ a/n // i love writing for futturman ugh and im gonna write a sub!josh futturman x dom!reader soon fr. and i know he’s a total bottom but let a girl dream pls and i know this is short forgive me

it’s 2:46am, your boyfriend josh has been sleeping all day but god he looks so hot with his messy hair and his mouth slightly open, you wish it was you who his mouth was on.

josh jolts awake, mumbling something about biotic wars? he keeps talking about that game. you always shrug it off. “you finally awake?” you say to him.

his sleep sweat always gets you, his musky scent seems like the best thing you’ve ever smelled. you always worried why you liked that so much, maybe it’s the pheromones or maybe you just need to fuck him.

“oh hey, yeah i’m awake” he rubs his eyes and stretches his left arm after a yawn. “but why are you awake? it’s late you should’ve been asleep hours ago” he teases you. you loved it when he did that but now wasn’t the time, you’re so turned on it’s borderline hurting. you need some release.

“need you. badly” you basically whimper, when did you start to sound so desperate? you don’t know, all that’s clouded in your mind is that new hitachi wand you bought. “get my vibrator out of the drawer please” you beg.

“oh so you’re needy for the wand, huh? not even me?” he teases you. “you’re the one who made me like this. you’re so hot” you tease back.

he gets the vibrator out the top drawer and holds it above your head. “think you can reach it?” he says as you almost jump for it.

“strip for me and maybe you can have it” he says. immediately you take off your panties and his eyes darken with lust as he stares between your legs.

his eyes meet your wet pussy, he’s drooling at the site of it. “god, you’re perfect.” he says as he plugs in the hitachi wand, putting it on the highest setting and meeting your clit.

the vibrations make you quiver. josh chuckles as he sees you squirm, moving the wand around to hear your little whimpers that keep getting louder.

“be quiet like a good girl if you want to cum” he mumbles as he enters his fingers inside you, the wand still on your clit. the site of your cunt leaking is enough to send him into a spiral

“god you look so perfect like this.” he says softly just enough for you to hear him. his fingers fidget inside of you making you whimper. “fuck, please let me cum- i’ve been good” you moan softly as the vibrations score through your sensitive clit.

“not yet baby, this amuses me.” he says as he smirks slightly, almost cooing you. he takes the vibrator off of your now puffy clit and he brings his mouth to it, now sucking on it as his fingers pump inside you, curling gently around your gspot. you moan as he softly bites your clit. it hurt but god it was good.

josh sits the vibrator on the bed still on, as he eats you out, his tongue licks a thick line along your pussy, his saliva mixing with your wetness making a perfect lube for his fingers to slip inside you. he wants to fuck you but this is your night.

you’re so filled with pleasure you’re seeing stars, so close and to release your hands are gripping his hair. “can i please cum now- i’ve been so good” you basically yell, now begging.

“cum for me. you’ve been good” he says to you as his mouth is on you, and at his permission you cum in his mouth, josh licks up all of your release. his head comes up from under you, his face glistening with your cum. god he looks so hot soaked in you.

[demelzathemer]

Rewatching Dead Boy Detectives for the 6th time and I STILL have so many thoughts, so let's do this

Episode 1

1. That's everything Crystal has on her for the rest of the season, right?

She must have had some money and her passport on that bag because she did change clothes and traveled half-way round the globe. But Jenny talks like Crystal doesn't have a credit card, so how much cash did she carry on her on a random day in the tube??

Well not enough to pay rent for the cheapest room in town when they arrived. (She wears a borrowed Tongue & Tail t-shirt from Jenny later, that's cute.)

I like how her original look is much darker and more mature, reflecting her mean girl personality. The long jacket later is still purple, but a light color with a colorful floral patterned turtleneck underneath.

(If she had her passport she has her full legal name and social security number to identify herself though-??)

2. I REALLY want to know what happened during those "two flights, one ferry ride" - where did the boys sit? Did Crystal buy a whole row of seats so they could sit together? (And was seen talking to herself alone the whole time lol)

Have the boys ever been on a plane (they haven't been on a ferry)? HOW DID EDWIN REACT... Please I want a fanfic

3. When they start investigating, Charles says to Crystal "I know you don't fancy this part, deep-diving into someone's brain. We can figure out another way if you'd like." Which is sweet, so Charles, but also, how did he know what she prefers? (They must have talked about it on the ferry ride.)

4. I thought it odd that Edwin would stumble out of the mirror, when he's always so careful and carries himself with such poise? But then I saw Kassius and Jayden, they both have the biggest grins on their faces just short of laughing. It's definitely a blooper, but George stayed in character so perfectly they left it in.

(George did confirm in an interview that due to Ghost Rules, the boys don't trip on treestumps etc, they would just phase through. So definitely not a scripted move.)

5. "Not exclusively my internet. (Charles laughs) I'll explain again later."

Crystal was the one that taught Edwin the concept of internet?? Did this happen on the ferry ride too??

6. THE VISUAL STORYTELLING. I'm obsessed how the costume department specifically adds visual cues to the boys' wardrobe depending on their emotional state.

We all know Charles' polo darkens when he goes through tough times, only returning to his original bright red after they're back from Hell. We understand that Edwin being in his Edwardian undergarments in the confession scene makes it so emotionally raw and vulnerable.

We don't see Edwin without his coat after they arrive in Port Townsend. There's the scene in the beginning when it's just him and Charles at home in their office, where we can see him without it. He can be his real self there, because he's safe and comfortable.

The heavy coat is Edwin's armor, a visual metaphora of the emotional walls he puts up against the world. He always wears it around Crystal.

Here, in the upstairs, where the topic of David upsets Edwin and he storms off.

Yet right after, we see him without it! I believe ghosts appearance may change to reflect their emotional state (or maybe Edwin just shucked it off, who knows)

It's a fantastic scene altogether but just by his clothes we can see that's he's being vulnerable with Crystal for the first time. I only noticed this detail now and I love it.

(In the next scene of making their plan together Edwin is still wearing this look. We can see they're not enemies anymore, but a team.)

7. When Crystal agrees and offers peace, Edwin actually *looks at Charles* for confirmation. He's out of his element here and needs his support. Charles is the one who knows how to hande people, so Edwin doesn't make any decisions before checking with him. Edwin only forgives Crystal when he sees Charles had approved of her.

(After he does, he glances back at Charles again, like he still needed that last bit of validation that he did the right thing.)

Their bond is so strong. There's always consideration for the other, whatever they do. The acting is also incredible.

Nonverbal communication has a huge role in this series, as much as the dialogue does. So many things are conveyed with just looks and sighs and the many close-up shots that make us emotionally connect with the characters.

8. Charles having beef with Monty right at the start will never not be funny. "Everyone likes me eventually." It's just a bird.

Even on top of the list of his day's heroic feats is "smack-talking a crow." I love him sm

+ As a bonus, look at this gorgeous shot of Charles with the neon light reflecting on his earring. Chef's kiss

[xanqels]

For I Have Sinned.

DarkCorruptedPriest!Joel Miller x Innocent!Reader

Summary: Father Miller sets eyes on you, and decides then and there that you are to be ruined by him.

Parings: joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: SMUT!!! No outbreak au! reader is a virgin and very naive, loss of innocence, corruption kink (he’s into taking her vcard), blackmail, dubcon, virginity loss, fingering, slight humiliation(?), bit of mocking, pet names (darlin’, baby, sweet girl etc), dirty talk, using the lords name in vain, unprotected piv (wrap before you tap), power imbalance, oral (f receiving), age gap (reader is mid to late 20s, Joel is late 50s), Joel is an asshole in this, mentions of god/the bible/sinning. Conclusion: Joel should not be a priest. if there’s any i’ve misses please let me know.

Word Count: 4.9k

A/N: I would like to thank @chloeangelic for inspiring me to write this and also giving me some encouragement, and I’d also like to thank @toxicanonymity for inspiring me to write dark!joel and creating the joelkemon universe. Also I do apologise if the timing of the story is a bit everywhere, this is my first fanfic!! any and all criticism is welcome with open arms.

————————————————————————

He still remembers the first day he met you.

You and your family had brought him a pie, a cherry one. They wanted to welcome him, congratulate him for becoming the new priest in their humble town. A sweet gesture from such a perfectly sweet girl and her devout family.

He remembered your face, he could draw it from memory if he wanted to - if he could draw, that was. The perfect mix of beauty, grace and innocence stood before him that very day and he was hooked. Hooked on your gaze, your smile, your scent, but most of all, your innocence and blind naivety to the world.

He knew then and there, that you were his to ruin.

Every Sunday from then on, his eyes were stuck on you, what you were wearing, the way your cheeks flushed when your eyes met his. Everything about you was mere perfection. A sight of innocence, of naivety that he couldn’t wait to take hold of and ruin for every other man.

He wanted his name to be the last thing on your lips at night, and the first thing to be spoken in the morning. He wanted to curse your mind with images of him, to make you worship him instead of God. And so, in his mind he curated the perfect plan to get you alone.

“Go forth, knowing that you are cherished,” His voice, a deep texan accent, talking to the congregation, “chosen and empowered by the Creator of the Universe.” But why did it feel as though he was talking to purely you? His words, so enchanting you lingered on every line he spoke. His sermons were fresh, new and slightly modern. A stark contrast from Father Rafferty’s sermons.

“May his grace be upon you. Now and forevermore.” He looks up, eyes scanning the room before landing on yours. Dark brown iris’ peering into your soul, as you feel your cheeks flush. He likes the way your cheeks blush when you look at him. You want him. You need him, he tells himself. “Amen.” He states as you look away, the rest of the congregation, including yourself muttering a simple ‘Amen.’

As you and your family stand up in preparation to leave, Father Miller approaches you, a wide smile on his lips with his Bible and rosary beads in hand. “Mr and Mrs Spencer.” He says, shaking your fathers hand. “How lovely it is to see you again.”

“Well, Father, we could never miss one of your services.” Your mother speaks as you look idly at the floor, eyes tracing over the darkened, dented wood from where people have walked over time. You tune out the conversation, feeling ashamed for dropping Father Millers eyes earlier, and feeling so stupid for blushing.

“Won’t you, honey?” Your fathers voice snaps you out from your thoughts, eyes wide as you look between the three of them. “Pardon?” You ask, heart thumping in your chest.

“Father Miller wants you to help him decorate the church for Easter Sunday. There’ll be plenty of other people there. I think it’d be an excellent idea.” Your father says, as your eyes dart to Father Millers. He smiles, a sweet smile. A comforting, pleasant smile which puts you at ease. Those dark chocolate brown eyes, soft and kind.

You nod, and he clasped his hands together in glee. “Well, perfect. It’ll take a little while, but there’ll be plenty of breaks and we’ll provide food. Hopefully you don’t mind me keeping your daughter occupied for the entire day.” Father Miller says, and your parents don’t seem to mind. Just as long as you’re being the perfect catholic girl you’ve always been. Just as long as you’re kept out of trouble, and as long as you help Father Miller with whatever he needs.

A devout catholic you were. Born and baptised, risen in a strong catholic household and desperate to please the priest. You’d do anything he’d say or ask, as long as it wasn’t a sin, and Joel knew that. He knew how desperate you were to please someone so close to God, his messenger, how you itched to be as pure and holy as one could be. He knew he’d got you wrapped around his little finger

And so, the plan was set in motion. And at 11am on the following Thursday, you were there at the church doors, pushing the solid oak open as you walk into the dim room, the only form of light being the candles Father Miller had lit and the sun shining through the stained-glass windows.

Expecting to be met with various murmurs and fellow church-goers, you find the place empty. Completely deserted, almost, until your eyes lay on him. Tall, stoic and his gaze piercing at you, taking you in. Your small frame, your long white dress, the way your hair lay against your shoulders. The image of innocence.

He smiles, that same sweet smile that he gave you the previous Sunday. “You made it.” He says, walking towards you with his arms out, almost as though he was going to envelope you in a hug.

But he didn’t. He clasped his hands together, rubbing his palms together. “Father Miller.” You exhale softly, eyes scoping the otherwise empty church. “I thought we were all meeting here at eleven. Where is everyone?” You ask, twirling a strand of long hair around your index finger.

He shrugs. “‘m afraid I don’t know. I did invite them.” He says, lying through his teeth. You wouldn’t know that, of course. Too naive to think any differently, to even have a thought that Father Miller may just lie to you. Truth is, he didn’t invite anyone else. Not a single soul. It was only you and him.

You frown, clearly unhappy with the way no one else seemed to turn up but you. The way they so blatantly chose to ignore Father Miller’s need for help. “But you asked for help, surely they should’ve come.”

“Perhaps they got busy.” He lies, looking around the church, eyes glaring at the empty walls. “Anyways, this place won’t decorate itself.” He grins, turning and walking towards the back, hand gesturing for you to follow.

And you do, obediently. Into the back room of the church, full of foldable tables and chairs, boxes of decorations and broken pews. It’s dark, and smells of dust and mildew. The smell violates your nose as you try to adjust to the light, and then Joel flicks a switch, and a singular, dim lightbulb sparks to life.

You grimace at the surroundings. Untidy, dusty and slightly damp. There’s a dark oak table in the corner of the room, covered in cardboard boxes that are filled to the brim. Obviously this room hardly gets properly taken care of, but in a small town like yours, you aren’t surprised. Most of the things that enter this room hardly come back out, unless needed. But, you aren’t here to judge, you’re here to help. Help this poor, middle-aged priest who blessed the community with his sermons and his striking good looks… wait what?

You sigh as you approach the table full of boxes, slender fingers prising open the lids and rooting through the boxes of old memories and décor.

Behind you, Joel was hungrily glaring at your figure. The way you got to work without any questions. So submissive, so silent. Oh, how he can’t wait to hear you moan his name. To cum all over his cock, to..

“Father Miller?” His thoughts are cut off by your melodic voice drifting through the air. “What exactly are we looking for?”

He chuckles, slowly approaching the table. “Sweetheart, it’s not Sunday, and we’re not in a sermon. Please, call me Joel. Let’s drop the formalities for now.” He smiles, looking down at you, and then, his hand is on your lower back. Hardly an inch above your ass. “Just some decorations. Some banners, the candles, my white robe should be in here somewhere.”

You gasp, the feeling foreign and leaving a strange feeling in your loins. You look up from the boxes of discarded mess, eyes meeting his. “Father Miller..” You start, but he glares at you, eyebrows raised. You squint your eyes shut and scrunch your face up, mentally cursing at yourself for not using the name he’d asked you to use. “I mean, Joel..” You clear your throat. “Why would your robe be in here? Surely it should be at your house, or somewhere safe atleast?” Your eyes slowly open, meeting his again.

He looks at his hand, gliding it up and down your back slowly, as though he was comforting you. “Well, William – Sorry, Father Rafferty left it in here for me. Just haven’t had chance to come rootin’ through the boxes.” He hums, a low tune, a soft one. “So, Sweetheart, tell me.. have you ever sinned?”

The abrupt question makes you freeze up, frown at the thought and straighten up slightly, eyebrows furrowed. “What sort of a question is that?” You ask. “Of course not. Well… I don’t think I have.” You say, wracking your brain for an answer. It’s normal for him to ask these sorts of questions, right? He’s just looking out for you. To make sure you’re on the right path, that you’re pure and holy. You’ve never even looked at another man in a sinful way, let alone kiss one. Sure, you might think the odd boy is cute, and maybe you’ve looked at Father Miller – Joel in a different way, and that’s made you feel sinful. You have to admit though, his scruffy salt and pepper beard, dark eyes and calloused hands are no match for any of the local boys. Joel was beautiful. Handsome, even. But he was thirty years your junior, and the priest. It’d ruin his career and his relationship with God, yours too. You couldn’t do it to yourself.

“You’ve never kissed a boy?” He asks, curiosity peaking. You knew kissing wasn’t a sin, but it’s not like you needed to worry about it. You shake your head, saying nothing. “Would you like to kiss one?” He asks, his body suddenly moving to engulf yours, his crotch right against your ass as he wraps his arms around your waist. You shudder at the movement, his breath hot against your ear.

“Father, I’m not sure this is right.” The formalities are back, you’re unsure, nervous and confused. Never once has he acted this way towards you, so flirtatious and curious. And yet you find yourself wanting more. A burning forming deep inside of you.

“Joel.” He corrects. “And it’s alright, darling. Won’t do nothing you don’t want me to do.” He grabs your hips and turns you around in his arms so you’re facing him. He places his index finger under your chin, lifting your head up to look at him, his eyes piercing yours.

You swallow thickly, eyes scanning his features. His scruffy beard is stark in contrast to his combed-back hair. The weathering on is face is showing, proving his age, showing how wise he is. He’s gorgeous, for an older man. You never would’ve assumed he was in his fifties, had he not told you. You bite your lip, weighing out the pros and cons in your mind of potentially giving your first kiss to this man.

“Just tell me what you want, Darlin’.” He speaks, “it’s not a sin. Well, it’s definitely not a sin if you kiss me. We won’t be doing anything wrong.” He urges, watching intently as your tongue pokes out and swipes against your lower lip. You nod, if anyone should know about sin it’s him. If anyone should know what’s right or wrong, it’s him.

He doesn’t waste a second, closing the space between the pair of you, his lips pressing against yours. They’re plump and warm against yours, and you’re not sure what to do. You try to copy his movements, lips moving when his do. It’s hard and confusing at first, but you manage to get the hang of it slowly. It’s innocent at first. Soft, sweet and oh, so innocent. But the more he presses against you, the more your back presses against you solid oak table. The sharp edge digging into your back, the pain making you gasp. Joel takes this opportunity to slide his tongue between your lips. A wet, warm foreign feeling in your mouth.

It’s a long kiss, deep and hungry. His tongue prodding and attacking your mouth every so often, and you could swear you feel something warm and tingly in your lower stomach. You’re stood awkwardly, hands by your sides with absolutely no sense of direction, that is until Joel takes your hands and places them around his neck. You allow it, and as you settle in, his hands find their place on your waist, calloused fingers digging through your cotton dress.

You wince as he nips your bottom lip with his teeth, and you pull away, a string of saliva still connecting the two of you. His eyes dark with a newfound fire in them, and something you can’t quite put your finger on.

“Fuck angel, you taste so good.” Joel whispers, his hand coming up and brushing through your hair as he takes your form in. Slightly plumped lips, red and glossy from your shared saliva, eyes wide and still in shock from the moments. “I can’t get enough of you.”

He leans in again, and even though you expect for him to kiss you again, his lips find a new place – on your neck. His beard tickles the sensitive skin, his lips trailing down your neck to your collarbone, which only just peaks out of your modest dress. Your breath catches in your throat, the fire in your stomach growing strangely stronger, more apparent. You sigh out as he plants a wet kiss against your collarbone, his tongue gliding from your collarbone up to your earlobe.

“Such a good girl.” He murmurs in your ear, his fists grabbing your dress and starting to pull it up. You gasp, placing your hand on top of his to stop him, shaking your head.

“No.” You state. “That’s a sin, I can’t go any further, Father. It’s not right.” You tussle in his grip. “I’m waiting until marriage like I should, like God said I should.”

“Oh, sweet girl.” He purrs, slowly shaking your hand off his. “It’s not a sin if you do it with me. It doesn’t count.” He lies, tugging your dress up so it’s just above your waist. He slips his free hand into the waistband of your panties, hissing as his fingers are met with your arousal. “Oh, baby.” He purrs, his finger skilfully prodding your clit. You whine in his arms. “You’re so wet, so desperate.” Wet? That’s what it is? You’re aroused? By this? That strange, unfamiliar feeling in your gut was caused by him?

His fingers swipe your clit, moving at different angles until your face twisted in pleasure and your mouth drops open. A strangled moan comes from the back of your throat, a noise you didn’t even know you could make. A noise you shouldn’t make, but you can’t help it. You can’t stop the chorus of moans falling from your lips, and to Joel it sounds just like a hymn sung in church. So beautiful and melodic to his ears. He loves it.

His index finger trails down, making you frown at the loss of pleasure, prodding your tight hole. You gasp, immediately itching to get out of his grip again. His grip only tightens, and he pulls his hand out of your panties. He looks at the wetness on his hand in the dim light, admiring the shine and your embarrassed face. “Nothing to be embarrassed about, Sweetheart.” He winks before popping his fingers in his mouth and sucking your juices clean off them. You at him in both shock and awe as he reaches behind you and clears the table off, boxes falling on the floor with decorations scattering around the room.

He lifts you up, your dress still hiked around your waist as he places you on the table, stepping between your thighs. “You gon’ show me all of you, pretty girl?” He asks, caressing your face with the same hand he just sucked clean. You felt sick to your stomach, but at the same time, you yearned for more.

“Forgive me, Father..” You mutter quietly to the man himself upstairs, as you nod your head and lift your arms up. Joel takes complete advantage of this, removing your dress and discarding it on the dirty floor. You know it’ll be dirty and possibly ruined when you retrieve it after, but you’re sure you’ll make something up to appease your parents.

He whistles lowly at the sight of you in your underwear, and since he asked if you would show him all of you, he doesn’t ask if he can unclasp your bra, he just does it, hardly giving you time to react. The cool air immediately makes your nipples harden, stiff peaks standing to attention, desperate to be touched. To be manhandled and played with. He discards your bra ontop of your dress, his hands coming back and cupping your boobs.

You bite your lip at the new sensation as he fondles them “Do you trust me?” He asks, what a stupid question – of course you do. You nod, and he removes his hands from your breasts, his fingers sliding into the waistband of your panties. You lift yourself off the table slightly, after a glare of expectance from Joel, and he pries your soaking wet panties from your body, the soft pink colour now darker where wet.

“Oh, Darlin’.” He groans as he fingers the damp patch, and your cheeks grow hot again. “I’ve hardly even touched you. Hardly even shown you what a good time I can give ya.” He grins, a devilish grin, as he stuffs your soiled panties into his back pocket.

You shiver in anticipation, any worries of sinning or ruining yourself for marriage being long gone. After all, Father Joel Miller said it was okay, and that it wasn’t a sin asking as you did it with him, and he wouldn’t lie to you, right?

He kneels down in between your legs, groaning as his knees click, a sign of his old age. It should snap you out of this, remind you this isn’t who you are, but it does the opposite. Makes you yearn for him, crave him. He grabs your thighs and thrusts you closer to him so your ass is just barely on the table. With one arm wrapped around your waist, he uses his free hand to gently spread your lips, your pussy shining with arousal in the dim light. Glistening, calling for him, he exhales shakily. “Gotta stay still for me, Baby, okay?”

He dives forward, your soaking cunt spread open for him still, and he places a gentle, chaste kiss on your clit. A simple movement that has you jolting, and him chuckling at your reaction. A low, monotone tune.

“God girl, you’re a nasty little thing, huh?” He doesn’t even give you time to answer before he licks a straight line from your tight hole up to your clit. Your moans have his cock rock hard, painfully stretching against his pants. If he doesn’t get to fuck you, he’ll definitely masturbate to the thought of your moans, the way your cheeks were red and eyes glossed over.

He repeats it a couple of more times, licking stripes up your pussy, purely doing it to wind you up and tease you further, as if you weren’t already a soaking mess for him. He takes pity on you and your whines, leaning forward and wrapping his plump lips around your clit, ravenously devouring your pussy as though he hadn’t eaten for days.

It’s pleasure unlike anything you’ve felt before. So intoxicating and mind numbing, you could live on this feeling. Your hands grip the edge of the table, knuckles turning white as you moan, your hips subconsciously rocking and grinding into his mouth. “Joel.” You groan, and he only hums in response, noisily lapping up your leaking juices.

He brings his hand down, the one that was spreading your lips, and gently prods his middle finger against your tight hole. He gently pushes it in, despite your slight squirming and whines, holding it still to allow your pussy to get used to this new feeling, to this intruder. Then, he’s slowly thrusting his finger into you, all the while he’s completely devouring your pussy.

The feeling burns slightly, but is quick to wear off as it soon turns to pleasure, his finger hitting a certain spot that makes you see stars, that makes you unaware of how loud you are, how pitiful you sound. You don’t even realise he’s brought his second finger into the mix until the burn returns and you feel yourself being stretched out further.

You cry out, your hand shooting to his wrist. “Stop.” You command, voice wavering. “Too full.” He pulls his head away, chuckling lowly at the command.

“Too full?” He asks, “How do you expect me to fit my cock in your pretty pussy if you won’t even let me put my second finger in?” He raises an eyebrow. “I thought you were my good girl, are you not? Look at how wet you are, how well you’re taking my fingers.” He gently pushes his fingers in further as he speaks. You look down, the sight simply sinful. Your tight pussy engulfing his large calloused fingers, your juices all over his fingers and knuckles.

“Slowly.” You demand, gently releasing his wrist, and thankfully, he does. He pushes his fingers in, and you’re full. Fuller than you were before, and you didn’t even know that was possible. To feel so filled up and yet.. good? It’s slow, the way his fingers thrust in and out of you, inching deeper every time. It’s progress when the burning subsides, and you nod at Joel.

“Better.” You confirm, and he doesn’t need to ask twice.

His fingers slowly pick up the pace, his tongue attacking your clit again, your hips grinding against him, desperate for more friction, and you don’t even realise you’re doing it.

The burning in your lower abdomen grows stronger, more apparent. Like you’re building up to something momentum, something life changing. “Joel.” You moan. “Fuck, oh God.” You curse, not caring for the moment who hears you curse, or use Gods name in vain. You’ll pray later.

He pulls his lips away from you, smirking up at you. “Gonna cum, baby?” He asks, but you’re unsure. “Let go, Sweet girl. Show me how you cum all over my fingers. Show me how bad you can do.”

Your mouth drops open as his fingers hit that special spot, eyes seemingly rolling into the back of your head as it washes over you. The best thing you’ve felt in your life, crashing over you again and again. You see white flashes, and you feel like you’re on cloud nine. You don’t even realise that you’ve grabbed Joel’s wrist again to keep him in place, your hips rocking back and forth on his fingers.

You’re sweaty, beads of sweat have fallen down your chest, your thighs, and when you come to, you feel filthy, sinful, wrong. Like you’ve just had a piece of you taken. You look down, mouth dropping open as you gently release him from your ironclad grip. “I’m so sorry.” You blubber.

He pulls his fingers out of you, grinning wide at his accomplishment. “Look at that..” He pops his fingers in his mouth, sucking them dry. “Not so innocent, huh? You naughty girl. I heard you curse Gods name.”

“Please don’t mention that to anyone. It was wrong of me. I’m sorry, that shouldn’t of happened.” You plead, the thought of what the community may do to you scares you. You’ve seen what lengths they go to in order to shun someone. “I’ll do anything, just don’t tell them.”

He smirks. “Well, you could do one of two things. You could get on your knees at home and pray to God that he’ll forgive you, although there’s a very low chance of that happening, you sinful little minx.” He chuckles at your sorrowful face. “Or, you can turn around, bend over and let me fuck the sin out of you. I’m sure he’ll forgive you if every drop of sin has been eradicated from your body. Your choice.” He stands, groaning softly as his knees crack again, that reminder of his age causing your pussy to pulse in arousal.

You sigh, wordlessly standing up on wobbly legs. You turn around, gently laying your sweaty body against the table. Your stomach covered in the wetness you’d left behind, the rest of your body being welcomed by the coolness of the wood. “I want him to forgive me.” You squeak.

A feeling of pride in his chest, he smiles. You hear the sound of his belt unbuckling, and then the rustle of his pants as he pulls his cock from out of his boxers. He holds his hand out infront of you. “Spit.”

You gather all the spit in your mouth, spitting it into the palm of his hand. You wonder what he’s going to use your saliva for. “This isn’t going to hurt more than your fingers, is it?” You can hear him stroking himself with your spit, a wet, sloppy sound. You can’t help but wonder what his cock looks like. Is it big? Is it thick? Is it tanned like his sunglowed skin?

“Different for everyone, Angel. Shouldn’t hurt for long if it does.” He says, his free hand adjusting your form slightly. He stands behind you, getting himself into position. “The fact you just came should make it so much easier, and less painful.” He gently pushes the tip of his cock into your tight hole, hissing.

You cry out, the burning sensation stronger than ever as you feel yourself being stretched out around his thick cock. Tears prick your eyes. It’s unpleasant, you feel like you’re being ripped into two, like his cock is going to break you. “Too big.” You cry out again.

He tuts. “You said that about my fingers.” He rolls his eyes. “Too big.” He mocks in a slightly girlish tone. This isn’t the Miller you know. This is someone entirely different. His whole demeanour has changed in a matter of seconds, from the second you bent over for him, he’s far more dominant. “We got my fingers in, didn’t we? Just breathe.” He reaches his freehand down, rubbing your clit in small circles to get you to ease up.

You do as he says, taking deep breaths in through your nose as he continues to stretch your tight hole out around him. It takes what seems like forever before he finally bottoms out, and you hear him sigh. He stays still for a moment, allowing you to adjust before starting to slowly thrust into you.

The burn takes a while to ease off, but when it does and you finally get to embrace the feeling of being truly full up, you’re in shock. You thought two fingers was full, you were wrong.

“This pussy is so fucking tight.” He grunts, his hips slapping against yours as his pace speeds up. “Should’ve fucked you sooner, Pretty girl.” You moan in response, table creaking as he fucks you against it.

“Deeper.” You blurt out. Your body and mouth no longer felt like it belonged to you, it belonged to your lust. Your desperation to cum all over his cock again.

He obliges. “So fucking needy.” He scoffs, but smirks as your moans turn into callings of his name and strings of curses, the tip of his cock nudging that oh so sweet spot you’ve learnt to appreciate in what feels like seconds.

The sounds of skin slapping, moans from you and grunts from him echo around the room, bouncing off the walls and right into your ears, reminding you how your innocence is gone, how you’re no longer pure. How sinful you’ve become, something you’ve lived your entire life avoiding. Something you were taught to never even think about happening, something you were taught to shun others for. And now look at you, what a hypocrite. Bent over a table, being fucked by a man, who despite being very attractive, is decades older than you.

That same feeling is forming in your stomach as he fucks you harder, faster, deeper than before. He’s chasing after his own orgasm too, he can’t help but crumble when it comes to you. You’re just too perfect, and your pussy is his own personal brand of heroin.

It comes abruptly, without any warning, attacks you and your senses. You’re blinded by stars, head dizzy and body feeling heavy.

He gasps, grunting loudly. “Oh, you dirty girl.” He moans, his thrusts becoming sloppy and shallow. Your pussy strangles his cock as you pulsate around it, and it pushes him over the edge.

You can feel him spilling his hot cum inside of you, his cock pulsating in response to your pussy pulsating around him. He collapses on you for a minute, his clothed chest against your naked, sweaty back. You stay like this for a while until you clear your throat and he gets up, his dick now soft as it slips out of you, a mixture of your juices trickling down your legs.

He steps back to admire the view. Your ruined pussy, pumped full of his cum, pulsating around nothing. He hums as he tucks himself back into his pants, tutting at the small wet patch near his zipper. “Messy girl.” He mutters.

You gently push yourself up, grimacing at the feeling of the mixture of your juices trickling down your soft, shaky thighs. You bend over slowly, picking your discarded bra up from the floor and putting it back on. “Can I have my underwear back?”

He shakes his head. “They’re mine now, Angel.” He gives you a cheeky grin. You groan and point down to the mess trickling down your legs, and his response to that is to give you an old rag from one of the boxes.

You clean yourself up the best you can with the resources you’re given, but it’s not enough. He’s pumped you full of his cum and it’s still trickling out. You just decide you’re going to have to pray for the best. You pick up your once pristine white dress, now crumpled and dirty from the floor. You pour, seeing as it was picture perfect only this morning. You sigh, placing it over your head.

“Now, come on. We’ve got a church to decorate.” He winks at you, grabbing a box of decorations and walking out of the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts and feelings.

————————————————————————

Tags: @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

A/N: sorry but i think it’s absolutely ironic that I’m posting this on the day i’m actually going to church (christening).

[grimoireofhayley]

Of Friends and Horror

Stu Macher x Fem!Reader x Billy Loomis  

Word Count:  733

WARNINGS: Graphic content, Smut (MINORS DNI), Language, Talks of SA, Cheating, Obsessiveness, Gore, 18+ Content, Stalking, Possessiveness, Dirty talk, Religion talk, Suppressed Mental Health problems (I.e., reader has some issues that she is not aware of) 

 Tag list: @ev3ningrain @nerdytif @fanfic-enjoyer123 @darkenwolfie @juda-the-simp  @colsons-baker @junnniiieee07  @ok-boke @ren-ni @katie-tibo @bruce-yamada @kenma-izhu @cookielovesbook-akie @elevenpurple @hyunlix-world @mavix @halleest @lightvo1d @vintageculture18 @officially-a-simp13 @slytherin-addict  @midnight-dixon  

A/n: Oh-my-God, I am so sorry for yet another massive delay. I have been so busy with life that I had completely forgotten about this series. Please do not hate me! I did not mean to go off the wagon like this. I have been moving around a lot, trying to get my kids ready for school, I have also been looking for a part time job, I am waiting for a call back for my first ever place to call home and so forth. I know this chapter is short, but I hope it was juicy enough for you.  I'm not that great at writing smut...

All Chapter Links 👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻 

OF&H Masterlist

Chapter 15

Stu growled; his hunger grew; he was starving at this point.  

His eyes darkened, dilating like a viper; this made the crinkles at the corner of his eyes more prominent than before as he looked you over; your flushed cheeks, plump-kiss hungry lips and the heaving of your chest. 

Your breathing became shallow and your heart pounded like cymbals in your ears. 

You groaned, staring up at him and that same toothy smile still dwindled on his features and without a second thought, Stu inserted his middle finger and ring finger into your sopping-wet cunt, earning a gasp from you. He quickly clasped your mouth with his free hand as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you at what felt like inhuman speed.  

His chest against yours, he watched in content as your eyes started to roll back. Your moans muffled by his large hand. 

“You like that, don’t you?” He licked his lip, using his thumb to play with your throbbing clit, while he continued to finger-fuck you in the janitor's closet.   

“Stu~” You managed to purr through his hand, your voice hardly above a whisper.  

His cock twitched at the sultry clamor that erupted from your throat.  

“Shhh~” He snarled, removing his hand from your mouth and immediately grabbed your throat, choking you; forcing you harder up against the wall, in return, you whined, biting your lip.  

Stu pressed against you, his nose touching yours, his warm-minty breath dancing on your lips his hand still around your throat and his fingers now knuckle-deep inside your pussy, “I thought I told you earlier that I didn’t want anyone to hear us?”  

His superiority showing.  

“Come for me, Princess.” He ordered you, feeling your walls tighten around his fingers while he hiked up your leg with his knee.  

You tried grasping ahold of the nearest shelf, but the euphoria blinded you and you lost your balance, causing the shelf to topple over and the cleaning supplies fell with a loud clang.  

“I-I’m cumming--” You whimpered through closed eyes; drool pooling at the corner of your mouth before cascading down your chin. 

“God, you’re so sexy.” Stu mewled, letting go of your throat to grab at your breast again. He licked up your throat, finding your sweet spot in the process, biting and sucking at it. 

Your legs trembled as he slowly pulled his fingers out, your hot release all over them.  

He admired his work; how he left you a mess, how he left a mark, now claiming you as his, hoping that whoever left bruises on your skin prior will see the dark-purple blemish on your neck.  

Smirking, he licked his fingers clean, sending you a wink. 

You blushed, looking at your feet.  

“I’m having a party tonight, you’re going, right?” He raised a brow. 

Your head still downwards, you pointed to the hickey he left on you. “How am I going to explain this?” You covered your face in guilt, knowing damn well that Tatum and Sidney are going to ask questions, Billy, too.  

Stu shrugged, a playful but taunting glint in his voice as he gripped your chin, making you look up at him.  

“I dunno, but you’ll figure it out.” He grinned, giving you a quick peck on the forehead before leaving out the janitor’s door.  

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[ewanmitchellconnoisseur]

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭...

Thinking about the Patient!Ettore x Psychiatrist!Reader fanfic chilling in my google doc...

Tw: Talk of: DubCon, Smut, Oral Sex (f and m receiving), facefucking

Word Count: 712

Next Part >>

Mainly thinking about how much Ettore adores his new psychiatrist...

He enjoys the little smile you give him when you first walk into the room. How you’re always so polite and kind to him even though he's unstable. How you always look over him as if you're checking him out. The way you "innocently" touch his shoulder before sitting down. How you always lean forward slightly and he can get a small view down your shirt.

He likes how you bite your lip while writing and wishes he could do it himself only until he breaks the skin the tiniest bit, just enough so a pinch of blood would paint his lips a blush red, how you'd look up at him while he does it with doe innocent eyes.

Oh, how he wishes he could darken those eyes.

He commits the small sounds you make while listening to him talk in memory for later but gets lost in them imagining what other sounds you can make.

What do your moans sound like? Could he make you moan? Do you want him to make you moan?

He notices how you cross your legs or press your thighs together when he stares at you for too long. Or how you fidget with your pen when he tries to ask you questions about yourself.

He thinks of how it would all start. Part of him wants to take you without permission and wants to see the fear in your eyes while the other part of him wants you to want it and to beg him for it. He'd initiate it quickly not giving you a chance to fight back.

He imagines you on your knees in front of him taking his cock down your throat till he hits the back. How you'd cry pretty tears while he'd fuck your throat. How fucking gorgeous you'd be all teary-eyed, swollen-lipped, hollowed cheeks and his cock in your mouth. He knows you'd gladly swallow his cum and give him that same cheeky smile you do when you sneak him an extra lollipop.

His thoughts travel back to your thighs and how his head would feel between them as he kisses his way upwards. He knows you'd be a squirmer and would enjoy it all the more, his arms already holding you from trying to move away.

He watches your face as he slowly eats you out angling his face so his nose rubs on your clit while his tongue does its work. He likes the way you grind against his face and hold onto his hair to keep him in place as if he'd ever stop. Eventually, he's adding fingers stretching you out for later. He'd overstimulate the fuck out of you until you're begging him to let you cum. He'd stop just before saying he wants you to cum on his cock.

He loves the way your mouth hangs open as he slowly pushes himself inside of you, inch by inch until he’s balls deep. He's mesmerized as he watches where your bodies join together, focused on that white ring forming around the base of his cock. He would try to wait for you to get used to his size but that would fail quickly and he'd start ramming into you at a relentless pace. He'd wrap a hand around your throat to hold you still and put a leg over his shoulder.

As you'd get louder he would lean down and put his fingers in your mouth telling you to "shut the fuck up". He would leave bites and hickeys on your neck and you'd bite into his shoulder to stiffle your moans. He'd whisper over and over how much of a good girl you’re being for him how you’re taking him so well and that he's proud of you. The praise sends you over the edge cumming around him squeezing him so hard you pull his release out of him and he cums deep inside of you.

When it's all over he would smile knowing you're walking out of here with his cum dripping out of you and your panties soaked just from him.

As you pack up your stuff to end the daily session Ettore is snapped out of his fantasy. Small beads of sweat from how real it felt to him, his cock straining agsint his scrubs fully hard. And only one thought plagues his mind.

He has to have you.

a/n: ....so that was my first time ever writing one of these. But also my first time writing anything on tumblr! So if I missed anything like a warning or maybe if someone has a recommendation for formatting please tell me! And id love feedback ive never done this before!! Thank youuuu!

(The crazy thing is I have a whole story chilling in my Google Docs about this...)

[irwinsblender]

reassurance

A/N: hi everyone!! this is my first fanfic that i’m posting on here and the first ever oneshot that i’ve written! as it’s coming up to christmas I decided to write a festive themed oneshot as my first post! i hope you enjoy :)

pairing: ashton x reader

summary: reader has worries about meeting ashton’s family in person for the first time

warnings: a small amount of anxiety

word count: 1k

✩ ✩ ✩

Usually, you were always excited for the Christmas season. Celebrating with loved ones and giving out gifts had always been your favourite thing to do.

This year was slightly different.

Ashton had suggested spending Christmas in Australia with his family this year. After many video calls had gone well with them, he assumed it wouldn’t be a big deal for you. Of course, it wasn’t at first. You were over the moon about getting to go to his home country for the first time.

With your flight there coming up in a few days time, you’d both been packing your bags in preparation. Including any gifts that had been bought for his family.

When you decided on taking a break from packing, Ashton offered to pick up some food. Expecting you to be ready to eat once he returned. Instead, he found you sitting out on his back porch, staring out at the darkening sky above.

He considered leaving you to your thoughts, thinking that you’d been okay all day. Something inside him told him that he couldn’t leave you alone. Something was wrong.

The back door opening caught your attention, glancing back to see Ashton walking outside. You sighed, leaning your head against the back of the chair you were sat on. He joined you, sitting down, waiting until you were ready to talk.

You cuddled into Ashton’s side, slipping your arms around his torso with your head against his shoulder. His arm draped around your shoulders.

“Everything okay, baby?” Ashton asked.

You shrugged, not sure how to tell him that you were freaking out about meeting his family in person for the first time.

“Is it about Australia?” He tried to answer for you if you didn’t want to speak. You nodded. “You’re worried for the flight? I know you’re concerned about how long it’ll be.”

“No, it’s not that,” you closed your eyes, trying to figure out how to explain your feelings. “I’m anxious… about meeting your family.”

“Oh,” he said. Not expecting you to say that. “You’ve been alright talking to them on our calls though, haven’t you?”

“This is different though, a lot different,” you sat up again, crossing your legs in front of you as you faced Ashton. “It’s not talking to them through a screen this time, I’ll be seeing your mum, your siblings, your grandparents, it’s a lot, Ash.”

With the way your voice almost broke at the end, Ashton couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen a hint of your anxiety to meet them sooner. You’d talked many times since agreeing, and none of those times had you expressed how worried you were becoming.

“You’re good at talking to people you haven’t met before,” Ashton tried to remind you. “You were fine talking with the guys the first time you met them.”

You looked away from Ashton after he said that, seeing the sun getting lower and lower. With how you were sat, Ashton moved to rest his hand on your knee, caressing his thumb back and fourth to comfort you.

“I’m not worried about talking to them,” you finally admitted. “I’m worried that they won’t like me.”

“Baby…” Ashton looked at you with a sad expression, the same way he always looked when you said things like that. “They like you already, they’ve seen the way you are on call, or when we’ve posted together.”

“How can you say that when they haven’t met me? Yes, we’ve talked, but over a video call.” You slouched in your seat, running one hand frustratedly through your hair. “I’m different in person than over the phone, you know that better than anyone. I’m quiet if someone calls me, but I can be the loudest person in the room when I hang out with our friends.”

“You’re my girlfriend, they’ll like you, baby.”

“just because I’m your girlfriend doesn’t mean they’ll like me.” You replied stubbornly.

Ashton figured he’d have to take a different approach to how you were thinking. He moved to face you more, patting his lap for you to sit on, which you could never say no to. Now sat comfortably with your hands in his, he continued talking.

“They haven’t chosen whether to like you or not depending on if you’re quiet in one setting or loud in another,” he placed his hands on your waist, rubbing up and down softly. “They liked you even before they saw your face. They liked you as soon as they realised how happy you make me. All they’re worried about is that you care for me and love me.”

You nodded, listening to what he said to you. What he was saying was true in every sense. Your parents were the same with him. As long as you’re happy, and as long as he takes care of you, they couldn’t not like him.

“and you do care for me. Every day you care for me, and love me, I feel it every second we’re together.” He cupped your cheek in his palm as you leaned into his grip. “They like you because I’ve told them about the real you, the you that I fell in love with, the you that I want to be with forever.”

“What if I mess up or say something wrong as soon as we get there?”

“I’ll be there to jump in,” He reassured. “If you get too anxious, I’ll start talking. If you aren’t sure what to say, I’ll talk for you. Until you’re more comfortable with my family I’m more than happy to do whatever you need to feel okay.”

You took a breath as you nodded at him. Feeling slightly better about this whole situation. All you needed was a little reassurance from Ashton, and that’s exactly what you got.

“I love you, you know that right?” You chuckled softly.

“And I love you,” Ashton leaned in, pressing a delicate kiss to your lips. “You’ll talk to me next time you have any worries?”

“Yea, I will.” You promised, looping your arms around his neck as he hugged you closer to him.

For now, everything had turned out okay in the end. You’d admitted how you felt, Ashton understood and didn’t mind at all. He was going to suggest going inside when you spoke again.

“What if your sister doesn’t like me?” You asked.

“Don’t give me that! You two are practically best friends already.” Ashton laughed. “Now, come on, we should eat before the food’s completely cold.”

✩ ✩ ✩

[skekilla]

my brain is rotting out of my s kull boys

anyway heres from my au, pomni and ragatha talking about just trying to tell caine life in the circus sucks and they all want things to change sdfdfs

ANYWAY I BLACKED OUT AND ENDED UP WRITING A THREE PAGE SHORT FANFIC ABOUT THIS SCENE SO.... here goes ugh

Everything was quiet out there, in the big room scattered with blocks and suspended domes of darkened skyboxes. Pomni stood on the balcony. She stared up, along the spirals and ledges, into the Circus’ simulation of nighttime. She didn’t know what made her leave her room and come out there, but she did know she didn’t care for more nightmares like the ones last night brought. Then again, after everything that day—the funeral—she did doubt the likelihood of anything similar to that coming true. She hoped it wouldn’t, anyway.

“Can’t sleep?”

Pomni startled at the sound, whirled around. “Ragatha! Ah… w-why? Should we not… be out here at night?”

Ragatha chuckled, coming closer. “Oh, no, you’re good! Don’t worry about that.” She came to a stop beside Pomni, a few feet away. Her one vaguely humanoid eye glanced up into the night sky. “I just heard your door—I have trouble sleeping too, even after all this time, so I was awake—and I thought you might want someone to talk to. Only if you want, of course!”

“Oh. Okay.”

An awkward pause stretched between them. “Do you… want to talk, or…? I know you had a big day, with that NPC and whatnot, so…”

The shapes of the Circus floor sparkled like a deathly burst of confetti in Pomni’s mind for just a second. She squeezed her eyes shut. “No. No thanks. I just…”

Ragatha’s hands rose to try to comfort Pomni, but hesitated before they actually got close enough. Instead, she clasped them together in front of her. “That’s okay. It’s not easy to get used to. I can go.”

“No, it’s fine. I just—” It was rare that Pomni ever felt choked up. At least, she felt in her subconscious that it was—not that she remembered anything about life before… this. For some reason, though, everything was washing over her right then. Maybe it was Ragatha trying to get her to talk that was drawing it out of her, or maybe it had just finally all caught up to her. Either way, her gloved hands clenched into fists and she held her breath. She wasn’t sure if she even could cry, but she didn’t want to. Not to someone who was basically still a stranger. Albeit a nice one.

It had been a long time since Ragatha had seen anyone but Gangle on the brink of tears. She almost didn’t know what to do—almost. She sat down on the checkered floor, patted the ground by Pomni’s feet. She smiled up at her. Pomni stood still for a moment, unsure, before she finally sank down.

“Don’t worry about talking, if you don’t want to!” Ragatha said.

But words were already tumbling out of Pomni’s mouth, strangled against her tense vocal chords. “I just don’t understand why,” she said. “Why am I here? Why are any of us here? What could any of us have done to deserve being- trapped? Controlled? Why…” She shook her head, eyes towards the ceiling and skies again. She let her back meet the floor. “Why?”

Ragatha started to say something, but stopped herself and thought it over. Trying to act like there was any answer to that wasn’t helpful. She knew that by then. After a second, she laid down too. “I don’t know,” she said. “I’m sorry, Pomni. It’s just the way things are—how Caine runs them. There’s nothing any of us can do.”

“Why not?!” Pomni’s voice broke a little. She took a breath, calmed herself. “There has to be something. It can’t… it can’t be impossible to leave. It can’t!”

“I’m sorry,” Ragatha said again. “Believe me, if any real ‘exit’ existed, we’d probably have found it by now. The only way to change anything here is through Caine, and… well…”

Pomni inhaled. “Well what?”

“Well… letting us go isn’t in his program. Making us ‘happy’ is. That’s it. There’s no changing him.”

Pomni’s hands rose to her face. For a moment, she just stayed like that. Then something came to her. “But he’s not making us happy.”

“Yeah…”

Pomni’s head rose. “Does he know that?”

Something between surprise and confusion filled Ragatha’s face. “I… don’t know. He keeps trying the same stuff again and again, so… probably no.”

Things began to click into place in Pomni’s mind. “Then… then maybe we could tell him! Get him to change things! Let us have more say and… and maybe, eventually, leave. If he is made to make us happy, then he’ll listen if we all say we really, sincerely aren’t. Right?”

Ragatha thought about her words. “I mean,” she began, “I don’t remember anyone really trying anything like that in the time I’ve been here—not like what you’re saying, anyway. Maybe… maybe.”

“Then we have to. We have to try.”

Ragatha looked over at Pomni. The desperation she heard in her voice made her nervous, but the hope that came with it was swaying her. “Well… it could be worth a shot!” Pomni looked back at her, the simulated moonlight flickering in her red and blue eyes. The hope in them was growing stronger. It lifted Ragatha in a way she hadn’t been lifted in a long time and crushed her all at once; a wave of guilt came with the joy. Pomni would be disappointed, and Ragatha knew it. Trying to mitigate her optimism, she added, “I mean… it’s not like things can get much worse.”

Pomni’s eyes flicked back upwards. Disappointment, to a smaller degree, had already pricked her with just those doubtful words. “Right.”

Even more guilt filled Ragatha. “I can help bring it up to everyone else tomorrow,” she offered. “I really do think it’s something to try. I’ll stand by you on it!”

Pomni took a deep breath. Her voice was stable again, her breathing steadied by the hands she rested on her stomach. It was worth trying. Anything was worth trying at that point. Like Ragatha said, what could get worse? She shoved the doubts away, to the back of her mind—still very much there, but hidden behind determination. “Okay. Tomorrow.”

Ragatha smiled a little. Pomni didn’t. She just stared up. Silence hung between them again, though it wasn’t awkward anymore; it was tense, filled with fragile hopes, fluffy clouds drifting and evaporating in the sky. Yet, somehow, they both felt a kind of security in it. Security in chance.

“I really, really hope this works,” Pomni said.

“It… probably won’t, if I’m being honest,” Ragatha couldn’t help but say, a nervous chuckle punctuating her words.

“I-I know. Still.”

Something twinged in Ragatha’s chest that made her smile all the more sincerely. Some kind of familiarity maybe, or care, or… maybe a bit of her own hope, awoken after so long. “Well… that’s sure a breath of fresh air around here.” She closed her eye. “I like that about you, Pomni.”

Pomni glanced at Ragatha for a second, but she heard right. Maybe she did have a friend in the Circus after all. Maybe what she guessed after the funeral earlier was right. Maybe, even if whatever happened tomorrow didn’t go as planned, everything would be okay. Somehow.

[sofasoap]

Love at first sight - what if?

Pairing: Rodolfo “Rudy” Parra x F!reader ( aka Mini MacTavish)

Summary: AU to my Love at first sight series.

What if Mini was the one that fell for Rudy first?

Prompt :

- You are stunning

- Look at what you do to me

- You know I want you

- Did I do this

Warning: E Rating. Smutty smut. Alcohol usage. unprotected sex ( wrap it up people and use all sorts of protection!) p in v sex.

A/N: LET'S GO RUDY FEST! Thank you @glitterypirateduck the wonderful CoD fanfic and fanart curator for organising another festival :D you are awesome.

Thanks to my midnight crew @siilvan and @jynxmirage for putting up with my constant complain of brain cells burnt out. :)

Rudy masterlist

Masterlist

A voice in your brain begrudgingly admitted the cliché of time stops when you met his beautiful brown eyes the moment you stepped off the helicopter.

“Sergent Major Rodolfo Parra. Welcome to Las Almas.”

Your heart may or may not flutter a bit when he quietly introduces himself with his soft tenor voice. 

You soon knew why he was a second in command and trusted by Colonel Alejandro Vargas and the Los Vaqueros. This is a man who exudes calmness and composure. And  after witnessing him on the battlefield? Precision, efficiency, bravery and most important thing of all, compassion.  It just makes you admire him even more.

You bury that admiration inside your heart. Happy just to keep the relationship professional. Besides, from all the gossip and talks, he doesn’t seem to be lacking in admirers around the base, nor be interested in relationships. You are only here for the short term. Better not get yourself too deep into it.Last thing you want is leaving with a broken heart. Why would he be interested in a little medic like you anyway? 

“Ah Doc, my second in command has something to ask you. Don’t you Rudy?” 

Everyone else sees it differently otherwise. Your brother gives you the quizzical look every time you start to ramble on about the Sergeant major, Gaz’s subtle jab about how you couldn’t take your eyes off him, Ghost staring at you (you could almost see that little bit of frown between his brows), and Price mumbles on how the two of you should just get your eyes checked. 

Alejandro suddenly called out to you one morning when you were dropping off some medical files into his office.  The colonel, not being subtle at all, pushes the sergeant major towards you, trying to get his hermano to ask you out on a date. 

“Only.. only if you want to. I just thought I want to show you the local festival and culture…” Rudy hesitated as he shuffled on his feet, his usual confidence all but disappeared. 

Well now here you are, at his family home, his sister Camila and mother ( with his mother half sobbing and mumbling what seems to be word of holy praises ) eagerly pushing you into the bedroom, getting you all dolled up with the traditional garments. 

You can see his jaw drop slightly as you step out of the room, and twirl around to show off your skirt. 

“Like it??” You asked as you flash him a shy smile. You absolutely love the dress. You were also amazed how well it fitted you.  “Someone may or may not let out what size dress you wear and told my brother…” Camila winked at you, letting out a bit of a secret. 

“Or not wearing?” You winked at him, His cheek instantly darkens. You just can’t help but tease him a little as you feel a bit brave ( or maybe it’s that two liqueur shots your fellow medics made you scull down before you came did the trick), and it’s fun to see his calm façade crumble. 

A soft smile appeared on his face after he blinked his eyes a few times, snapping himself out of a daze ,“You look stunning, Whatever you wear.” Oh, he is a sweet talker. You like that.

“Oh can’t forget this!” Camila rushed out from the room, placing the flower crown on your head. Rudy gently holds it in place as his sister clips it on with hair clips. After giving everything a final check, one of his hands slides down and ghosts your cheek before grasping your hand.

“Ready to go?”

Oh dear, you can already feel your body burning up, and you are pretty sure it's not from the alcohol.

It has been a fun night, the music, the drinking and the dancing. 

Oh the dancing. The want and lust that he had carefully hidden slowly slips out as the night progresses. How he caresses your knuckles with his thumb, the hand always on the small of your back, guiding you away from the rowdy crowds. How you shiver when his lip brushes your ear as he whispers into your ear when the music gets too loud. Feeling the heat emitting through layers of clothing when his body presses against your during the dance, how he fails to disguise the sharp inhale of air when you slide your hand around his waist, hooking your thumbs between the gap of his pants. 

You can’t hold onto the urge anymore. Your glossy eyes peer into his darken orbs, wanting the affirmation that it isn’t not just you who wants something more. More than just shy touches and polite words. His eyes flicker towards your lips and lower briefly, before meeting your eyes again, nodding slightly, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. 

And that is all the confirmation you need. 

Half dragging Rudy across the festival ground, around the back of the building and the little green area beside it, your body is burning with uncontrollable lust and fire. 

Once you make sure you are hidden away from prying eyes, you pull him down for a deep kiss. He responded immediately with one hand cupping your face and the other gently but firmly holding onto the back of your head. 

Two of you only parted when you pulled back slightly, gasping for air. He leaned forward slightly, chasing for a few more kisses before resting his forehead against yours. 

It’s all getting too much. You want him. Right there, right now.

Hitching your skirt up as you lift your right leg up, you hook it around his waist. “Look at what you do to me…” you whispered into his ear, grabbing his hand, guiding it towards your wet underwear.. “I want you Rudy. here. now. “

“He…here???”  he stuttered slightly, not expecting you to be this bold. He looked around, checking the surroundings again. The two of you are still close to the festival ground, but private enough that you are sure no one will be coming towards this side nor hear you both over the loud music. 

“No one is going to come this way.” You reassure him as you bring your hands up , looping it around his neck, grinding against his slowly aroused cock. You can feel his body shivering as you gently nipping his ear lobe.

 “Make me feel good Rudy. Please.” you cooed.  

How could he deny a request from you? Especially with those pleading watery eyes, voice full of need and lust. 

He only realised how enamoured with you when he saw you stepping out of the room in the traditional garb, the woman of his dream, he thought. The moment he realises his little hidden crush on you is now a full blown desire. 

Looking into your eyes again, “Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked again in a husky voice, giving you a chance to back out. 

You gasped as he sank his fingers deeper into you, curling it up slightly. Your head rolls back, leaning into the tree as you let out a satisfying moan. He leans down, licks a stripe up the valley of your breasts, up your neck, until he reaches your chin. He peppered kisses on your cheek as he sped up his ministration, muttering praises as he grabbed hold of your waist tight, knowing your orgasm is going to hit soon.

“You know I want you. And you want me too, right?” You move your hip slightly, hoping to get a bit of friction with his hand that is still cupping your sex.  That gave him the last bit of reassurance as he pushed the fabric to the side to play with your clit, eliciting a loud moan from you.

How wonderful those thick fingers of his feel on you. You have always wondered what his fingers will feel like when you sit quietly in the corner in the mess hall after dinners, him playing the guitar with his deft fingers while the soldiers around him sing the stress away, celebrating living on for another day, as the fight with the cartel and corruption continues.  

“Cariño.” 

Your hazy eyes open up, mouth slightly agape, everything seems so muffle, so hot, so … good. 

“Look at you, so beautiful. Such an angel.” he whispered in a husky tone.  “Look at me, I want you to look at my eyes when you come.” he commanded as your eyes drifted close again, feeling that coil about to snap at any time. 

“Don’t hold back, just let it out…come for me mi vida… ” with those words, your orgasm hits you with a full force. You are sure if it’s not for the loud music, everyone in the festival ground would probably have heard you. But you couldn’t care less at this point as he slows down his finger thrusting, letting you ride out the rest of your bless high.

Your head fell forward into his shoulder, panting away as you tried to reorientated yourself as  he slowly pulled his fingers out, gliding it up towards your clit, making you tremble with overstimulation. Gently letting your leg down, making sure you are steady before he pulls you in for a tight embrace, you can feel his now fully erected cock straining against his pants. 

Pushing yourself off from him, you reach down towards his pants, carefully unbuckling his belt with your trembling hands. He let out a shuddered breath as you tug his trousers and underwear down, exposing his beautiful girth. 

“Did I do this? Did I make you hard Rudy?” you murmured as you slide your hand up and down the length, Rudy couldn’t hold back an unrestrained groan.  

“I want you inside me.. And make me come with your cock..please make me come again, please.”  You pleaded as you speed up the pumping, clenching your thigh with the need rising again, ready to take him in. 

Slowly but surely he pumps his delicious length in and out of you, each thrust and praise of words elicits more whimpers and moans out of your mouth, begging him to push you over the edge again.

Rudy grabbed your wrist to stop the ministration, and pushed you back gently until your back was against a tree, and leaned down to capture your mouth with his. Teasing your lip apart with his tongue, he hitches your skirt up and moves it to the side, hand finding your sex again. Taking his cock into his hand, he lowered himself slightly to aim his cock towards your slit, teasing it a little with the head before slowly pushing it in.

Both of you let out a contented sigh as the finally seated in you. It feels so good, so fulfilling with him stretching you nicely with his wide girth. You wouldn’t mind if he is buried inside you forever. 

He lifts your leg up and shifts your body slightly to get a better angle, thrusting even impossibly deeper than you imagined. You grabbed onto his shoulder tight, as you felt the familiar sensation building up again. With a few final hard thrust, you screamed out loud as you came for the second time,  he followed not long after with a loud moan as your pussy spasming around his cock, filling you up with his hot cum. He buried his face into the crook of your neck as both of you slowly rode out the rest of your orgasm. 

The two of you stayed in that position for a little while, eyes closed, with only the sounds of shuddering breathing from your post-orgasm highs heard between the two of you." You bite your lip, barely containing the sound of whimper as he pulls out from you, secretly wanting him to stay in there for a bit longer. He took out a handkerchief from his pocket and gently wiped you over and himself as well, before smoothing down your wrinkle top and skirt. You did the same for him as you buckled his belt back on, straightening his shirt. 

He leans into your forehead as you reach up and run your hand to smooth out his now sweat drenched hair, both of you burst out laughing. 

“ We look like we've been running a marathon. Or being chased by a group of bandits.” you quipped. 

“But it was a very good marathon.” he puffed out. Holding your face and kissing you gently on the lip, he murmured, “I would do it again any day.”

“Against a tree??” you giggled. 

“Preferably in bed next time” he chuckled. “Or anytime. Only if.. if you want.” his voice drops down to a whisper, suddenly all shy.

“I would never say no to that, Rudy.” you reassure him as you pull him in for another kiss. 

“Finally.”

“About time.”

“Sick of the two of you dancing around each other.”

“Good job Sergeant major and doc! Wohooooo” 

“Don’t too loud at night, you two.”

“What the..” “ YOU GUYS!!!!” 

tag list:

@jynxmirage, @siilvan,@glitterypirateduck, @homicidal-slvt,@sprout-fics,@cumikering,@preciouslittlecreature,@crazymela

@iwannabeinthesequalmrghostface

@liyanahelena, @abbeyrjm-blog,@alypink,@devcica,@nrdmssgs

@okayyadriana, @caramlizedtomatoes, @random-thot-generator, @random0lover

@nightingal3-tales, @deakyspuff,

@deadbranch, @roosterr, @gamergirlbones, @b1rds3ye, @writeforfandoms @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world,

[alpydk]

Curtain's Closed

So @auroraesmeraldarose has been leading me down a very dark path recently. One of folds and love muscles...

And then came Tim Downie's Cameo about Gale reading smut. Well, the concept just had to be written, didn't it? So here we have a little mini fanfic about Gale reading smutty fanfic. Quotes have been taken from her fic Professor Dekarios (ch14 for this / highly recommended) - And well, it's a nice evening ending in smut. Enjoy.

Word count - 2061 - M/E - CW - Self Pleasure

Springtime had settled over Waterdeep, the snow having now melted, the flowers in bloom outside the cafe window. He sat with the occult tome, flicking through the worn pages, not particularly interested in the contents. The cortado tasted smooth upon his tongue and the tiramisu he’d ordered had gone down a treat, but his mind, however, kept little to the pages in front of him, nor to the surroundings of the bustling streets that lay beyond the windowpane. Instead, they drifted to the small book buried deep under the stack of research papers, not lost, but selectively hidden out of sight of prying eyes.

It was during his morning at the academy that he’d overheard the conversation between two of his colleagues; the two women giggling and blushing over a recent book that had been going around the female staff. Smut they had described it as in a whisper of a word, afraid that someone might hear it. From what he could tell, it was not a mainstream book, no known author such as Cimber or Ruskettle, but the works of a hobbyist with a passion for those who’d been in the spotlight. He’d tried to hold little attention on the discussion, but the talk of a wizard in a compromising position stuck with him for the following hour as he taught his class. He’d read similar literature about desire in the past; what harm could one bit of curiosity do when it came to smut ?

Professor Karedios – Quite the title and very to the point, thought Gale to himself as he hid in the shadowed back corner of the small muggy bookstore. He felt as if he were a teenager looking for a scantily clad photo of an elf to gaze at in secret, only now he was in his late thirties, grey hairs highlighting his dark locks. Get a grip, Gale. He held the novel within the confines of his loose sleeve, a nervousness that someone might stop him and question him on the contents. Grabbing an occult tome with little regard for what it cost or the subject content, he, at least now, had an excuse to make a purchase of the sultry literature.

The shopkeeper took both the books, and Gale was thankful for the tired, darkened eyes of the vendor which met him. He could detect the faintest hint of red wine, hopefully a remnant of a previous lunch break and not a hidden stash beneath the counter. Either way, it mattered little, as the books and gold were quickly traded between them with little discussion. If he’d been asked, he would have simply claimed that it was for a friend as a humorous gift.

“You think I should wash my beard?” The voice of the assistant came through from a back room interrupting the purchase and Gale’s heart dropped as the books were pulled just a fraction too soon from his grasp.

From behind the desk came the slightly slurred retort, the accent unrecognisable to Gale’s ears. “Yes, I think you should wash it. Then you should shave it off, nail it to a steel plate, and fling it over a rainbow.”

Gale stood confused at the relationship between the two people, simply hoping to take what he’d bought and get out of there. The shopkeeper looked at him with disdain before handing over the books with a sigh, his job now done, the contract of pleasantries over. Gale took the books and crammed them in his bag with a quick nod of thanks before turning as quickly as he could to get away from the disgruntled trader. A note would be made to avoid the premises in the future, unless desperate. As he left the store, his heart pounding in his ears, his bag clutched to his chest tightly, he breathed a sigh of relief that at least the worst part was over.

Now Professor Karedios sat awaiting him, teasing him from his bag. He saw how the lilac cover stuck out from amongst the parchment of a study on Okoth, the outline of the protagonist’s robes calling to him. He’d read the blurb ever so quickly within the store. An alternate universe of a Faerûn Wizard. He was intrigued already, the character on the cover baring a self-indulgent resemblance to himself. He’d not been able to help himself, curiosity always getting the better of him, and he had to find out what lewd secrets were being kept from him. Finishing the coffee, he closed the heavy tome with a thud, no knowledge of what he had just been perusing for so long. All he knew was that he needed a certain mood before he could entertain such a topic as the one that truly held his focus. This would not be a quick night of loneliness within a tent, a potential death sentence hanging above his head; it would be one to enjoy, to savour.

The return to his tower was leisurely, the sun setting, casting long shadows down the narrowed streets, the scent of the sea washing in with the evening tides. He took in each sensation, the sounds of the taverns opening for their trade, the bard weaving sleazy tales from atop the shoulder of Ahghairon’s statue, the passing elf that smiled with a faint blush in his direction. The City of Splendours would forever live up to its name.

His home was empty, he discovered as he closed the oak door and called for Tara, a sly smile emerging upon his lips at the confirmation that he would have the tower all to himself for the night. He took off his cloak, thinking through the steps he would take tonight to squeeze each drop of pleasure from his time alone. He deliberated; was it worth bathing before or after? Though not nearly as tough a worker as his friend Halsin, who toiled through woodland day in/day out, Gale felt the effects of lecturing upon his body, his shoulders especially tensed, and forearms aching slightly from weaving spells consistently in the same manner in order to demonstrate to his pupils. He knew a similar ache would be felt later if he rushed through the planned activities.

He decided at least wine would be an excellent starting point. With a warm red poured, the alluring literature in his hand, the fire burning, and the curtains closed, he laid back in his comfortable armchair with a pleasant sigh.

““Good girl.” He tried to keep his voice calm and light even as her eyes widened, and she bit her lip again in response to his praise. “I’ll see you next time, Helene. Take care.””

Gale smirked at the intense flirting that had been going on between the characters, imagining himself as the professor on the cover. He mouthed the words silently to himself as if in the scene with the young lady, the submissive tone of her character already causing the heat to rise under his collar. The fire, the wine, the book? It mattered little to him, which was the culprit as he flipped ahead a few chapters; the story captivating, but his body growing a little too eager with the aid of the alcohol. He could certainly see the appeal of the type of fiction now, an improvement over the paintings and sketches he’d once glanced at. Now it was left to the unlimited reaches of his imagination, the story acting as a guide to entice his mind and, in turn, his body, hopefully leading him to a more satisfying precipice to tread upon.   

“Rayne obliged, taking her face in his hands, leaning in and kissing her lips softly, tenderly.”

Now things were hotting up, he thought to himself, the feeling of his trousers growing a little snugger than comfortable. He didn’t want to rush this, but he was frightfully aware of how much time had passed since his last self-indulgent moment. He untied the drawstring above the leather, slipping the trousers and his underwear down enough to release his already semi hard erection. A sip of the red wine gave him a moment to compose himself before he continued.

“Helene hitched her dress up and, without breaking her mouth from his, threw one leg over both of Rayne’s, coming to rest on top of him, straddling his lap.”

The imagery held itself in his mind. He wanted to move to the next line, but the sight of the redhead straddling his lap in his vision caught him, a slight gasp being released as his hand moved around the base of his cock. He breathed deeply, letting his palm lie against his flesh, his self control remaining to savour the story further.

““Please, Rayne… I need you to touch me. Now.” Her voice was desperate and made Rayne’s already hard cock twitch in his jeans; the thought that she needed him like he needed her drove him wild.”

He felt his own cock twitch in eagerness, the dream of his kisses being laid on her body spurring him on. A massaging rub from base to tip caused his heart to beat that bit quicker, his desires trying to escape him with each word. How easy it would be to let himself go as he would have when he was younger. He closed his eyes and whispered through parted lips. Another slow rub before a few more lines could be read.

““Good girl,” he murmured in her ear as her body tensed, “now come for me, my love.””

Gale saw the teasing and the control before his very eyes. He would have conjured her in front of him if he knew his concentration would not have faltered so quickly, but it was too late to take that chance now. An involuntary moan escaped him, a second where his mind collected itself, returning him to reality, and he questioned if anyone would have heard him. He was no longer in the tents on the road, in the Elfsong Tavern, no Tara to be seen; he was alone and could embrace the sensation.

The build up with the fiction was becoming too much for him as he read on; Rayne’s need to give his partner such pleasure, similar to how he would devote himself to a lover. His hand moved quicker, his hips letting out a light thrust against his fingertips with each stroke. He lost track of the words on the page, his mind becoming clouded by his own arousal. He let out a shaky breath as Helene’s hungered pleas caused his cock to throb in his slowly tightening grip, the imagined form in front of him ready to be taken in full.

“Gently, slowly, he entered her....”

He caught little else of the sentence aside from these few words, knowing Rayne’s and his own motions would be similar in nature. Gale’s muscles tensed at the increasing speed of his hand, its movements now instinctive upon his shaft. He could almost hear Helene’s sounds in his head, her soft cries merging with the unrestrained groans of pleasure he was releasing into his empty study. The wine lay half drunk, the pages of the novel shaking gently in his trembling hand as his concentration faltered. He glanced over the paper in front of him, the words no longer existing to him as he pictured himself standing over her, her walls clenching around him. The book was let go from this trembling hand so he could grip the arm of the chair ready for his impending climax, his eyes closed to the dim light of the study, his cheeks flushed with stimulation.

Fantasy was lost to reality as his orgasm hit, a wave of intensity throughout his mind leaving him shuddering and panting for breath within the confines of his tower. The warmth of his seed flowed freely over his hand and he gave a short chuckle to himself; the evening having ended with the satisfying result he had longed for. Professor Karedios had been very thorough in his devotion to Helene, and Gale knew this would not be the last night that he too would be entertained by the pair’s escapades. Despite this knowledge, though, he still sat with the belief that this night had been one of the best he’d had all year: red wine, curtains closed, and a little smut for company.

[emkayewrites]

Another behind-the-scenes-on-Bridgerton-Season-3 moment from my Lukola fanfic....

(Excerpt taken from my fanfiction 'Curtain Fall')

Before she could respond, there was a frantic knocking at her door.

“Duty calls?” Ezra asked.

“Something like that.” Nicola replied. “I’ll speak to you later.” 

She hung up and pocketed her phone into her jeans, moving to open the door. 

She knew with some certainty that Luke would be the one stood outside.  If he had not come to visit her, she would likely be making the trip across the field to him.

In the last few weeks, they had become somewhat inseparable. If they were not due to film a scene together, they still found a way to see each other for a meal, a walk or just to decompress in one of their trailers.  This routine had started initially to manage their nerves about their scenes.  It was a relief to be able to talk every day just to practice and build trust.  As time had passed, they were both realizing they were getting a lot more from each other than just rehearsal time.  Nicola found herself looking forward to seeing him and being at the receiving end of his dry wit.  In her experience, there were few people in life that you could have such effortless banter with.  Meanwhile, Luke was open with her about being introverted and needing to sit in a semi-dark room with no human contact after a long day on set.  The running joke was that Nicola no longer counted as human, not after the many nights they had sat in his darkened trailer, eating dinner out of takeaway boxes in relative silence.  All in all, there was a comfortable rhythm to their relationship – so much so that even on a day off like today when most cast members were catching up with family and friends, Nicola had been hoping Luke would want to while away some of the hours together.  She had resisted reaching out to him though, feeling conscious he might be taking the opportunity to catch up with his parents or Jade.

Sure enough, it was Luke stood at her trailer door, dancing impatiently on the muddy grass as sheets of rain washed over the bright red umbrella he was holding up. 

“You can come in, that stays outside.”  Nicola pointed at the umbrella.

He immediately bolted inside, keeping the arm with the umbrella extended outside the tailer door.

“How do we bring it in?” He looked at her expectantly.  Nicola let out a snort of laughter in response.

“We don’t.”

“I’m not abandoning it out here, it won’t survive and it’s not mine to destroy.  I borrowed it from Kraft services.  Haven’t you got a tea towel or something?” He urged.

“Nothing big enough to absorb that.” Nicola shrugged, returning to her place on the couch.  “I’ve had enough lectures about these vinyl floors to know better.  Besides, the umbrella won’t get damaged.”

A crack of thunder erupted around them. 

“So is the rest of you planning on coming in or…” She asked, ignoring the sound of the escalating storm; pulling the blanket up over her shoulders again.

“Do you want a response to that, or can I just glare at you?” He shot her a look.

“Well, you can either stand there holding an electricity conductor and glare at me, or you could come in here where it’s safe.” Nicola quipped; one eyebrow raised.

“Oh, fuck. Good point.” He immediately dropped the umbrella with a clatter and pulled his arm inside, slamming the door behind him as he did.

Nicola did her best to hide her amusement.

“You’re the worst.” He said with the twinges of a smile around the corners of his mouth.

He unzipped his raincoat, revealing a thick script pressed against his stomach, protected from the rain. “Bought over today’s pages, thought it might be a good opportunity to go over the scenes.”

He pulled his coat off and took a seat beside her.  As he rifled through the script, she found herself absentmindedly sharing her blanket with him, pulling it across his back. 

“I keep thinking about when Penelope and the audience see him at the garden party, the cameras on him and he’s meant to just look handsome and interesting.”  Luke laughed disbelievingly, looking down at the page.  “Talk about a tall order.”

Nicola leaned over, looking at the notes with a frown.  “You’re overthinking it now.  A lot of that is going to be the hair, the make-up, the lighting, camera angles – it’s not all on you to convey that.”

“Yeah, maybe.” He looked unconvinced.  “It’s delivering the sexy smoulder in the close-up that I’m really overthinking.”

The show was famous for the way it framed its romantic heroes in a way that exuded romance, sexiness and intrigue usually all in one tight close-up shot of the face.  Nicola had to admit that the amount of face acting they had to do on Bridgerton was on par with stage plays and pantomime with the exception being that here, the shot was redone over, and over, and over.  It was no easy feat.

“I had a nightmare last night.  I’m doing the shot and Tricia keeps telling me my sexy face attempt looks constipated.  I keep messing it up and I give myself constipation from the stress.  They have to shut down production for the day and it’s on immortalized forever in the notes for the dailies: Luke Newton fit of constipation shuts down set and costs production ten million pounds.” 

“Ten million pounds? Think a lot of yourself, don’t you?” Nicola remarked with a smirk.  He gives in and laughs.

“But hey, your brains’ ability to do that – it’s a talent.  I wish I had dreams that vivid and hilarious.” She continued.

“It’s a curse.” He disagreed.

“Alright, look at me, look at me.” She insisted, tugging at the blanket to pull his shoulders closer to her.  He faced her and she realised just how close to each other they were.  They had become gradually desensitized to the level of intimacy required between them but every so often, in a moment off-set like this one, it still caught her off-guard.  They were practically nose-to-nose.  His eyes levelled with hers.

“Smoulder.” She invited.

A change came across his face.  The strain of stress around his eyes and mouth vanished, his features softened as he embodied Colin Bridgerton.  His eyes seem to bore into hers.

“Pen, it is good to see you.” His spoke with an affected tone.

“Is it?” Nicola responded with an English accent, looking down at her hands, playing the closed body language of Penelope Featherington.

“Truly. It has felt like I have been absent years instead of months.”

“Much has certainly changed in that time.” She was stoic.

“A good deal, I know.” Luke patted at his shirt with some boastful pride, a smile spreading across his lips. “But it was all the rage in Paris.”

Nicola could not help but to laugh.  “Sorry, I’m breaking character. He’s such an arse.”

“It’s alright, I was about to break anyway.” He sighed, rubbing a forefinger against his temple. “So, smoulder rating?”

“If 0 is vomit-inducing Hugh Heffner and 10 is Jason Mamoa as Aquaman, you’re a solid 9 as Season 3 Colin Bridgerton.”  She assured.

“Alright, well that’s… I would have believed you if you’d played it cool and given me a 4 but that’s – it’s outrageous.” He shook his head at her, smiling.

“Deal with it.  Hand on my granny Nelly’s bible, it’s a 9.”

“Don’t blaspheme, I’m not worth it.” He rolled his eyes at her, turning his concentration back to the script.

Just then, another roll of thunder cracked overhead.

Luke leaned back on the sofa, holding the script up in front of his face. “Alright, well you better order some food, I’m not leaving until either that outside stops or I feel sexy.”

“Oh, so I guess we’re dying here then.” Nicola stated matter-of-factly.