#but this story was so fascinating that it's stuck with me forever

[katierosefun]

my cancelled-able trait from the queer community would be that i really apparently love messy endings. i love u happy endings and i also love u such sad, messy, ambiguous endings . . . i love u endings where u have this weird pit in the bottom of your stomach because you know that there's love here but u have no idea what to do with it and u just have to deal with the fact that someone is profoundly affecting your life and you're not gonna get closure from it anytime soon . . . i love u queer love stories where it's really just "u don't always get to see the sunshine and rainbows at the end of it . . . sometimes all that's left is just one big question mark and the quiet hope that they get their shit together" . . .

[koqabear]

Lamb To The Slaughter

♫: Gods & Monsters, Lana Del Rey

"An act of kindness goes a long way, your parents told you once; their words stuck with you all your life, your pure heart never failing to follow their philosophy— though, it seems your naive self was left unaware of just how far an act of kindness can go."

wolf hybrid!beomgyu x lamb hybrid!fem!reader x herding dog hybrid!soobin

Genre: smut, hybrid au, angst, porn with the world's smallest amount of plot

Word count: 15.8k

Warnings: barely edited oops, heavy predator/prey themes, injuries/blood, use of scents, scent glands and scenting, mentions of kidnapping and murder, psychological abuse i guess… this fic doesn’t let you forget that they’re hybrids btw, (showcases animal-like behaviors and habits), soogyu are stronger than the mc, obsessiveness, manipulation

Smut Warnings: DUBCON. threesome, mean dom!gyu, soft dom!soobin, sub!mc,inexperienced!mc, pet names (pretty, doll, good girl, etc.) manhandling, marking, subspace, possessiveness, choking kinda, dry humping, praise, praise kink, humiliation, dacryphilia, fingering, exhibitionism/voyeurism, degrading, orgasm control, dumbification, finger sucking, cum eating(?), spanking, begging, mind breaking, unprotected sex, jerking off ig, jealousy, hair pulling, rough sex, corruption kink maybe, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, double vaginal penetration… brief mentions of breeding, creampies, knotting, claiming, mc blacks out. (lmk if i should add anything.)

Notes: look at these stupidly long paragraphs of warnings oh im gonna kms. this story almost had me plucking my hairs out one by one, i’ve never been so stressed out by a pwp before. it was originally an ot5 au and was supposed to come out during october but… yk. shit happens. (i saw a post that changed the entire trajectory of this fic)

[This story contains dark content. Please read the warnings carefully; I am not responsible for the content you choose to consume.]

The forest at the edge of the village is something that should’ve been closed off long ago— but there’s no resources, no men to work on the border, no money— so the townspeople have resorted to old myths and tales to ward off wandering children and defenseless women instead.

There’s a killer in the forest— fairies will lead you down the wrong path and trap you in the woods forever; there’s a hidden pond so deep that if you fall in, you’ll sink forever. Typical tales that are told around the bonfire, where people cower and whisper from the thrill of the stories. Yet with each varied warning, one thing stays the same.  

There are wolves in the forest.

Large and strong and invincible, with a terrifying bloodlust and noses so keen they could spot you the moment you cross the barrier; tearing you to shreds, eating you alive and forcing you to feel the pain all throughout it. The wolves are always hungry, insatiable, and lurking about for its next prey— anyone who would enter the woods willingly would be deemed suicidal. 

You’ve never been one to believe such tales; how could you, when you’ve grown alongside the forest?

There are wolves in the forest, that much you’re sure of— but the fantastical tales and myths are nothing but a farce, crafted from the fear of the unknown and the dark, entangled landscape that lies past the backyard of your small cottage; belonging to your deceased parents, now left to fend on your own and care for the gardens and lush plants your mother had carefully cultivated since you were a child. 

She taught you everything you needed to know about the forest; which paths to take, which areas led to steep cliffs or poison ivy, and where to find herbs and plants that would aid to the medicinal business your family ran— you were fascinated by the craft, even as a young child, learning with eager eyes and an even more eager mind as you stored all the information in your small, worn down journal; the pink material of the cover faded and torn at the corners, filled to the brim yet still useful to you as you took it with you on every trip.  

Tonight, you pull on a warm coat dress; it’s thick and durable, a cute piece gifted on your birthday by the baker’s son, the border collie family always making sure to look after you since the day you were left on your own. The shawl sewed into the coat hangs over your shoulders like a small cape, adding in extra warmth as you look out the window and onto the cold scenery; the leaves have begun to abandon the trees, and if you hadn’t memorized the forest layout like the back of your hand, the covered paths might’ve concerned you— but you’re confident as always, grabbing your wicker basket and perching it on the crook of your elbow, glancing down to make sure your journal is already inside— and with one last mental check to make sure you have everything you need, you slip on your boots and make your way outside. 

“Soobin,” you say in surprise, swinging the door open, getting scared at the sight of someone already waiting for you outside— the said man only smiles at the sound of his name, laughing fondly at the way you press a gentle hand against your startled heart; his ears perk up at the sight of you and his black hair is slightly disheveled, though you guess it’s probably from his habit of running a hand through it whenever he’s restless— he holds a basket of his own, and your eyes fall onto it with a curiosity you don’t bother to hide.

“Hello pretty,” he smiles softly, the nickname never failing to make a heat flush up the back of your neck— you really hope he doesn’t notice your flushed expression, his eyes narrowing with fondness as he brings his basket up, opening it to show you the contents, “I made an extra batch of bread, and I thought you’d like some. Business will get busy for us both soon, and I’d hate for you to get hungry because you don’t have time to eat.”

He’s sweet and caring, and it never fails to leave your knees weak— he looks at you with nothing short of affection, raising a brow in curiosity and glancing down at your already occupied arm— his brows furrow, biting his lip in thought as he finally pieces everything together. 

“Are you going to the woods?” he asks softly, reaching past you and into the doorway, placing the basket of bread on the table next to the door— his hands are immediately coming up to your shoulders, smoothing out the soft material of the coat with narrowed eyes— and they’re filled with worry again, ears angling down and tail swaying slowly from side to side, searching your face that can’t seem to lie to him, “It’s dangerous to go at this hour, you shouldn’t.”

“It’ll only be dangerous if you continue to stall me,” you tease, shrugging his hands off and wrapping your own around his elbow, tugging him until you’re both stepping out of your home; he allows you to, and you’re locking it up with ease, even as he continues to tell you not to, to go another day, another time— you huff, shaking your head and frowning at the way he begins to offer to come with you; his instincts must be kicking in again, eyes filled with a calculated look he only sports when looking out for your safety— and with you being nothing but a fragile little lamb in his eyes, this look was something you’ve become very familiar with. 

“No, you mustn’t come with— it’s dangerous, and I’m the only one who knows my way around the woods,” you scold him, and even though he stares at you with that intimidating, stern look, murmuring about something about his keen senses, you stand your ground, “I’m too one-track-minded to guide someone else through these woods— I’d hate for you to get hurt because of me.”

He sighs— and you know you’ve gotten him good by the way he remains silent, stalling his leave as he tries continuing to reason with you— but you keep refusing in return, cooing softly that you’ll be okay, that you’ll be quick. 

“I’ll wait for you,” he finally says, refusing to back down even as you express your worry; after a moment of bickering, you finally give in. Your eyes widen in surprise as he gently pulls you in for a hug, engulfed entirely in his embrace as he rests his chin on your shoulder, inhaling your scent with a content sigh— warm, comforting and pure, like jasmine with the hint of a pure, soft vanilla, his nose subconsciously poking at your gland in search for more— and you shiver at the feeling, engulfed in his calming scent, a sage and rich pine, allowing yourself to melt in his arms and hold you tighter, ignoring the way your heart begins to race the longer your remain there. 

“Come back to me safe.”

Soobin is just as solemn and loyal as he was the day he declared that he would always protect you— and it makes your heart race a bit faster, a dopey smile stuck on your face as you wave him goodbye— you sigh pathetically the moment you’re finally in the woods.

The leaves crunch under your feet and birds chirp in the distance; it’s comforting to you, humming softly to yourself as you walk the paths you need to take without much of a thought, gathering herbs and plants as you slowly check them off your list; everything goes as smoothly as it always does, your mind in awe as you witness the sun beginning to set. 

You should get going soon; it was never ideal to be in the woods after dark, no matter how familiar you were with the landscape. The thought makes your steps quicken and your eyes sweep over the land in acute concentration, looking for the last plant on your list— you’re freezing entirely when you hear a shift against the leaves. 

You’re still; was it a false alarm, or a harmless rabbit passing by? You’re not entirely sure, wicker basket heavy in your hand as the other presses firmly against your heart; trying to settle your heart rate, breathing deeply as you look for any signs of movement, any signs of life around you. 

Just when you think the coast is clear, you hear it again; rustling against the leaves, harsh and erratic as something else greets your ears— sharp pants and sounds of struggle, a pained yelp resounding into the vast space and sending you into action before you can think twice. 

You round the thick oak tree ahead of you, searching for the source of the sound— and stumble back in surprise, an involuntary gasp escaping you as sharp eyes and equally sharp teeth point your way— a man lays before you, injured and weak.

Except, he’s not just a man; that much is made clear to you the moment your eyes sweep over his frame once more, taking in the ears that press flat on his head and his fangs that remain bared at you, the injured man—wolf hybrid— growling lowly at you and shuffling back to curl against the thick tree that once covered him; your hands shake as you hold onto your basket a little tighter, wide eyes sweeping over his figure and inevitably landing on the source of all this commotion; a twisted ankle, rendering the man before you immobile. 

You must run— you must, and it’s all your instincts seem to yell at you, your muscles becoming rigid with tension, white ears pressing flat against the top of your head and fluffy tail quivering with fear— but you have yet to, something about the look in the wolf’s eyes making you ignore your instincts, just for a second; behind the dangerous fangs that glint beneath the remaining light and his eyes that are narrowed threateningly, you can still see the pain he’s found himself in.

Something inside you clicks— your weak heart twists and your hands grip your basket a bit tighter, a voice in your mind telling you that you can’t just leave him like this; you can do something to help. Next thing you know, you’re taking cautious, slow steps toward him, hands held out to show that you’re nothing close to a threat— though you’re sure that the smell of fear that rolls off you in waves is enough of an indicator— and your soft voice is whispering out your intentions, continuing your approach even as he bares his teeth at you in warning. 

“I want to help you,” you say softly, finally at his feet as you place your basket gently next to him; and he growls at you once more, though you don’t find yourself to be afraid— if he were dangerous, he would’ve attacked long ago. It’s the only thought that repeats itself in your mind like a prayer, pretending as though your hands don’t tremble as you reach into your basket, as you grab the herbs you were just stocking up on and the bandages you carry for emergencies. 

He lets out a particularly harsh growl that makes you jump; it makes you hesitate to touch his skin, bruised and broken and bloody, eyes jumping to meet his— and though the action was meant to be confident, nothing can hide the fear that taints your eyes, the way your frame shrinks slightly when you’ve found that he has no issues holding eye contact— and after a standstill moment, you finally continue, ripping a piece of the bandage and attempting to clean the wound as best as you can. 

You’re a bit clumsy at first; unable to look away from the man, his strikingly dark red hair that's matted to his head from a thin layer of sweat, dirtied clothes and face that’s twisted in a mean glare— but eventually, it softens, the deep heaving of his chest calming as he watches the way you tend to him with deft hands, not seeming to care if he’s soiling your pretty coat as you tug him closer to you. 

The bandages are tight on his ankle and you’ve placed herbs within to help soothe the swelling— all tricks you’ve learned from your mother, from the times when you would run about carelessly and twist your ankle in some hidden hole, only calming your cries to see her work her magic on you.

Reassuring words don’t do much in the grand scheme of things, but you still whisper them sweetly to the injured man before you, dry bandage cleaning along the rest of his calf as you tell him to rest, to try and not overexert himself. And though you don’t know if he can understand you, though you’re unsure of where he came from— because as far as you know, wolves have been banished from your village for decades— you still find yourself caring for him. It’s something he can pick up on in your eyes, gentle and reflecting the last of the sun’s golden rays that leak through the woods. 

It’s quiet; it’s peaceful. Warm fingers lingering on his skin much longer than you intended, a curiosity leaking through your wide eyes as you take in his figure, the tall dark ears that stand on his head, the tail that lays on his side, thumping rhythmically— and you think you’ve finally found the courage to ask who are you? Lips parting to speak, you’re cut off by the sound of rustling, a new overwhelming scent overtaking your senses; something is approaching. 

The man before you doesn’t seem to be worried; it’s you that’s whipping around to the source of the sound, shrinking pathetically once you spot something emerging from the dark, thick mass of trees behind you; eyes, multiple pairs, glowing and angry as they stare at you like you’re their next meal— you’re not sure how many pairs there might be, but you’re stumbling to your feet quickly, eyes widening as you realize that the sun has set long, long ago.

You almost slip on the leaves beneath you; one last glance at the man behind you shows that his hands were out as though to catch you, expression twisted with what you’re surprised to see is… concern. But as a rough growling begins to surround the two of you, a sharp pang of fear courses through your body, the gravity of your situation finally sinking in as your eyes sweep around the area in one last, terrified glance.

They’re targeting you.

Before you can think twice, you’re turning on your heel and running— though nothing follows behind, you still let adrenaline take its course, shallow breaths and teary eyes guiding you back to your home; you don’t realize how crazed you must’ve looked until you’re finally reaching your front door, a worried Soobin immediately interrupting your flee and scooping you into his arms, whirling around to shield you away from the forest.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt? Dear, what happened?” he’s breathing out the concerned questions against the crown of your head, arms wrapped tightly around your middle and the only thing keeping you up as your knees buckle with fear; his gaze sweeps down to the state of your cute coat, the once pristine and pink material now dirty and bloodied; his hands hold onto it with a newfound panic, lifting the coat and attempting to find the source— it isn’t until you’ve let out a few pathetic sniffles that you can finally reassure him the blood is not yours.

“Is everything okay? Did something happen to you? Oh, I should’ve—” Soobin has pulled away to cup your face in his hands, wiping away the tears that escape your sweet eyes like a fountain; thumbs caressing your tear-streaked skin lovingly, brows knitted together as his concern pours off him in waves— and you shake your head softly, attempting to dissuade the guilt he must’ve felt for leaving you on your own. 

“It’s fine, I’m not hurt,” you croak out, grabbing onto his waist for support as you finally regain the strength in your legs, “I just— had some encounters with a wolf— but I’m safe, they didn’t hurt me, I’m just a bit shaken, is all.”

“A wolf?” Soobin asks, much more concerned by your words as he pulls away to inspect you once more; his hands run gingerly over your shoulders, running along them until they’ve stopped at your neck, eyes honing in on the spot for a moment before he sighs in relief. His gaze is hardening once more, cupping your face and looking at your sternly as he speaks. “Where were they? Did they follow you? Did you interact with them?”

“No, no— it’s alright, I’m alright, I promise,” you breathe out, hoping that Soobin doesn’t notice the way you shrink under his gaze, the way your body warms up at his touch— but he’s much too concerned about your safety to pick up on it, dismissing every cue of your body as nothing but fear, instincts heightened as he looks behind you and back at the forest you just came from. He watches the woods carefully, eyes narrowed and ears perked in concentration— but nothing happens, and he’s left to reluctantly believe your words, even if he wants nothing more than to run into the woods himself and make sure there’s no threat to you. 

After a moment of observing the forest, Soobin is turning back to you, and his gaze immediately softens at the sight. The brave front you put up isn’t fooling him, and it’s quite obvious that you’re still shaken from your encounter, delicate ears still pressed close to your head, eyes wide and scent muddled with distress— like rotten flowers, earthy and pungent— and with all the adrenaline ebbing away from your system, you’ve found that your legs have become pure jelly once more; Soobin is quick to catch on to the way you tremble and hold on to him tightly. 

“Oh, my doll,” Soobin sighs softly, fishing for your keys in your coat pockets and unlocking the door for you, leading you inside with a careful hand— as though you were made of porcelain, still shaken and anxious as he leads you to sit down, “it’s alright, you’re safe now— I’ll keep you safe.”

Soobin insists on taking care of you long after you tell him you feel better; he’s keen to protect you through and through, keeping his distance yet still doting on you as he makes you tea, helps you out of your coat, and even offers to wash it for you— the sight replaces the heavy fear in your stomach with butterflies. 

When he bids you goodbye, his eyes are soft, his movements slightly reluctant— but he must, it’s unlawful for him to stay the night with you; an unclaimed little prey like you, spending the night with Soobin, even if he was nothing short of perfect and kind, was enough to have the town gossiping like a storm. The very thought has your cheeks hot and your tongue stumbling on words, telling Soobin to get home safe with a shy, sweet voice— and he brushes his thumb against your cheekbones, smiling fondly before he leans in to press a kiss to your forehead; he lingers there, and you think you might just melt against him before he finally bids you goodbye. 

Your heart still races long after he’s gone; you suppose all this makes up for the fact that you forgot your basket in the woods, mourning the fact that you’ll have to go back to get it tomorrow— but for now, you’re content with giggling softly at the memory of Soobin’s lips against your skin, completely unaware of the eyes that watch you twirl around your kitchen happily.

 ≪ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆≫  

When you wake up, you find something peculiar at your doorstep; your wicker basket is placed before your feet, pristine as it was when you first took it out. 

Your brows furrow, looking around the area and wondering how it got here— your mind is going back to the wolf you tended to, eyes slowly sweeping over the dense forest, ears twitching in attention, listening for even the slightest rustle of leaves, wondering if he’s still lingering— but the world around you is still, and it seems to be only you here. You bend down to pick the basket up carefully. 

Everything is intact— your herbs, your bandages, your worn down pink journal— and the closer you bring it to your face in order to inspect it, the better you’re able to catch something peculiar; a scent, your nose twitching in curiosity and your eyes narrowing. The unknown scent only grows stronger the closer you get to the handkerchief you used to line the inside, and only then are you able to get a good sense of it— light and heady, like an amber and smoky smell filling your nose, finding yourself oddly enticed by the scent. 

You’re far too wrapped up in attempting to decipher the complicated notes of this new scent to notice someone approaching; your senses have gotten so used to Soobin’s presence you no longer find yourself alert around him, only perking up at the approaching sound of leaves crunching and the familiar, sage filling your senses— tucking the basket behind your back, you send him a meek smile, cheeks heating up as you silently hope he didn’t see you curiously nosing at your basket. 

“Hey, pretty thing,” Soobin rumbles out lowly, smiling fondly at the way you practically preen at the name; you’re terrible at hiding your expression, the way your ears twitch at his words not helping your attempts to seem nonchalant before him. 

“Hi Soobin,” you smile, fingers restlessly playing with the wicker basket behind your back as you tilt your head curiously, “what’re you doing here today?”

“I needed to check on you,” he says immediately, a soft oh leaving your lips at that, “I couldn’t sleep well knowing I just… left you here on your own. I needed to make sure you were safe.”

“Soobin, it’s fine, really,” you reassure him softly, fluffy tail wiggling behind you at the fact that he confessed how worried he was about you, his dedication to keep you safe, “Nothing happened— as long as I’m in my home, I’m safe.”

Soobin wants to argue against that, you can tell. But you don’t give him a chance to, inviting him in with a tug at his arm, smiling at the way he immediately relents; you tell him about your plans for today over a cup of tea, that you have to make a few deliveries to some homes across the village— Soobin practically jumps to offer to come with. 

“You– won’t you be busy?” you ask shyly, staring down at your teacup and stirring your spoon in  a feeble way to distract yourself. 

“No, I’m not needed at the bakery today,” Soobin immediately reassures you, reaching over the table to place a delicate hand over your own— and you stiffen, a heat rushing through your body at the sudden contact; the smell of sage wafts over to you as his thumb rubs soothingly over your skin, your mind mulling over his offer as you bite at your lip in thought. 

He’s eager to hear you say yes; his tail wags slowly behind him, ears perked up and eyes honed in on your every expression— and after a moment, you finally nod meekly. 

“It’s only a house or two, but the walk is… it’s far,” you say, standing at the doorway and reaching over for your basket, placing the bottles and jars filled with homemade remedies inside carefully— but before you can continue your explanations and tuck your basket snuggly into the crook of your arm, Soobin is taking it from you, his brows knitted together as he stares down at the item in confusion. 

“I thought you lost this,” he says quietly, rotating the item in his hands, taking in its pristine condition with a frown— his ears are perking up and his tail is straightening, head whipping over to you with wide, concerned eyes. “Did you go into the woods to retrieve it?”

“No!” you say, oddly defensive as you shake your head adamantly, “It just— it was at my doorstep this morning, I think someone might have found it—”

“The wolf,” Soobin sneers, his tone much darker than it was mere moments ago— it makes your ears flatten against your head and your figure shrink, his scent turning earthy and thick and rendering you docious and pliant— his eyes are darting from the basket and back to you, only to go back to the basket in order to examine it closely; the moment Soobin brings it closer to his face, you’re able to see the very moment where that same, smoky scent enters his senses— his pupils dilate, and his nose twitches. 

The same scent as before. Soobin recognized it as the same scent that you were drenched in the moment you found him, shaken and face aghast— your coat and skin reeked of nothing but that scent, wanting nothing more than to take you inside and replace it with his own— but the most he could do in the moment was hold you close and hope that it would wash off. 

The owner of this scent must have brought you the basket back; Soobin’s head races to find meaning, to find reason, adrenaline coursing through his body that yells at him to take action; this must be a threat—you’ve been followed, they know where you live.

“It isn’t safe for you to stay there anymore,” Soobin proceeded to tell you, only confessing how he felt once you were far, far away from your home— from the woods. And you could only shake your head at that, the reassurances an automatic response in your head at this point. 

But Soobin wasn’t going to go down without a fight this time; knowing that the wolf was out there somewhere, that he knew where you lived and even went as far as to visit your home— it made Soobin tense with anger. 

“That wolf was at your doorstep without you knowing,” Soobin continued to reason, all throughout your walk back, “you don’t know who they are— what their intentions are.” 

It was only then that you decided to mull through his offer to stay, or for you to stay with his family— images of a bloodthirsty wolf at your doorstep filled your mind, and you couldn’t help but feel like your nine year old self again, sitting at a fireplace and telling each other scary stories about the forest only a few feet away from you— your young self would always be left shaken and paranoid, asking your parents if you could sleep in their bed. 

Maybe you’ve become too used to being independent; you’ve survived this long on your own— most lamb hybrids you knew couldn’t walk around at night without having a trusted predator around to protect them, just in case— yet you were so used to depending only on yourself that you seem to have forgotten how truly vulnerable your species is; Soobin made sure to remind you with a stern look and crossed arms. 

“I don’t see why you’re insisting so much, binnie— I promise nothing happens here, this place is dead,” you tell him as you make dinner for the two of you, the sun now long gone and the man still stuck to your side, leaning against the counter beside you and watching you cook dutifully— his eyes drift over to the window behind him, looking over his shoulder and at the dark, gloomy forest that obscures his view; his eyes can’t help but narrow and pick apart each shape he sees, nose keen and eager to sense any changes, any hint of that smoky smell— but he sees nothing, and he’s turning back around to catch the way you send him a slightly incredulous look. 

“I understand why you might feel this way— you’ve been on your own for longer than you can remember, after all,” Soobin says softly, taking in the way your eyes remain downcast and you shy away from his gaze. Hesitantly, he shifts to stand behind you, a gentle hand placing itself on your bicep before his head lowers to rest on your shoulder; his forehead rests against you, able to smell the restless, flowery notes of your scent— despite the strong front you put up, Soobin’s keen senses are still able to pick up on the tenseness of your body, the way you keep glancing out the window and into the forest unsurely. 

“You have to allow yourself to be helped— there’s nothing wrong with that, doll,” he coaxes softly, ears atop his head twitching at the sound of the shaky sigh you let out— the stove is turned off, and the food is done— but you don’t seem to care about that much. 

Carefully, Soobin nudges at your jaw with his head; allowing your neck to tilt slowly, to expose it to him as his nose runs along your skin delicately, until it’s pressed against your scent gland, inhaling slowly and taking in the intense mix of smells and emotions within you— and he presses his lips softly against it, a gentle kiss that turns your scent sweet and fresh like a blooming flower; your heart pounds against your chest for a second, then proceeds to relax against Soobin’s hold the moment his scent invades your senses. 

“I’m here to protect you.” 

His words stick to you for the rest of the night— as does he, his presence reassuring enough to make you forget of why he was here in the first place— enough to allow you to miss the glowing eyes that peek from the edge of the forest as you get a glass of water in the middle of the night, taking in your drowsy figure and eyes that are heavy with sleep; unaware of the pair of eyes that take you in hungrily, the tongue that runs along a sharp set of teeth, nose twitching to get another gust of your sweet, clean scent, the muddled vanilla that makes his mouth water. 

With Soobin lying in the guest bedroom, you’re almost able to forget that there are wolves in the forest. That there is one that has now set his sights on the cute little lamb that tended to him with wide eyes and an innocent heart. 

 ≪ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆≫  

It’s early in the morning when you bid Soobin goodbye; your cheeks are flushed and you’re barely able to look him in the eye, despite not having done anything more than talk the whole night. He finds your shyness nothing short of endearing, placing one last affectionate kiss on top of your head before he tells you to call him if you ever need anything— to never be afraid to ask for help. You nodded to his words with a soft smile. 

Watching him leave had left a bit of an empty feeling in your heart; you couldn’t seem to help but watch him leave pathetically, standing at your doorway even after he had long gone; his scent still drifted around in your senses, the warm and sturdy scent helping you remain calm as you finally went back inside— closing the door behind you, you were pleasantly surprised to see that your home still smelled strongly of him. 

You had over ten different orders you needed to work on; you were able to busy yourself with making medicine throughout the rest of the day, boiling herbs and making remedies for colds and illnesses and burns. It was a tedious and slow process, and as you finally began to reach the end of your list, you couldn’t help but frown. 

You ran out of two different herbs needed for these next three orders; without them, you wouldn’t be able to make the medications at all. 

Glancing out the window, you gulped; it wouldn’t be another thirty minutes before the sun set, but after your encounter a few days ago— paired with Soobin’s warning and harsh reality check— you were much more hesitant to go into the woods on your own. 

You could call Soobin— ask him if he’d like to accompany you, stay put until you finally had proper protection. You mulled over the idea for a moment, your traitorous mind whisperering encouraging words in order to see him again; it’s just for protection, you told yourself, walking over to your landline phone before you began to dial his number, tangling the long cord around your fingers absentmindedly as you did; you tried to dismiss the nervous pounding of your heart, the way you bit at your lips in anticipation of hearing his voice again.

“Hello?” you’re gulping slightly at the sound— part of you wasn’t expecting him to actually answer. Clearing your throat softly, you muster up the courage to do what you’ve been hesitant to for so long. 

“Hi Soobin,” you start softly, listening to the small hum of acknowledgement from the other side, “I— I’m sorry to bother, but I just wanted to ask; I have to make another trip to the forest— it’s urgent— and I… well, I was wondering if you’d be able to accompany me. For protection.” 

The shyness and hesitance in your voice is horribly apparent; it makes you face burn and your hands grow clammy, feeling as though there’s a lump in your throat as you wait for him to respond— it feels like eternity, but in reality, it’s merely seconds—- and you’re practically slumping against the wall in relief when he gives you a soft of course I can in response.

“Wait for me inside until I get there,” he says, and you nod, letting out a sound of affirmation as well, “I’ll be quick.” 

Soobin hangs up promptly after; you’re left to scurry around your home in preparation of your trip, changing out of your sullied work clothes and into something more comfortable— inevitably, the same coat from before finds itself wrapped around your form, and as you wait by the doorway with your wicker basket in hand, you realize with a smile that the item is practically drowned in Soobin’s scent— the item is wrapped around you tighter and your nose is burrowed deeply into the soft plush-like material, your senses spinning with the warm, earthy smells that belong to the man. 

The sun is setting— but he’ll be here soon, a fact only proved by the sound of footsteps your keen ears manage to pick up on; you’re practically racing to make it to your front door, only to pause at the sound of something else— more footsteps. 

Instinct brings your body to the floor and away from all windows; your back is pressed up against your door, ear pressed tightly against the wood as you remain alert, subconsciously holding your breath in fear of getting spotted in any way— but whoever is currently surrounding your home knows you’re here, judging by the way they take careful, calculated steps closer to your door— you will your heart to remain calm, to not alert them that you currently lean on the very item separating the two of you, but the fear that courses through your veins is simply too strong. 

Your mind is racing a mile a minute; you try to calculate who it could be, why they’re here— and you’re thinking back to Soobin’s warnings the night before, eyes widening as you scold yourself for being such a naive idiot— because as you pick up of the soft sounds of sniffing and low growls, you realize that you’ve managed to lead a pack of wolves right to your home. 

It all happens too quickly; you’re running from the door at the sudden spike of scents, like a dirty smoke that approaches your door in the blink of an eye— the wood practically flies off its hinges with the way it’s broken into, a scream involuntarily leaving you as you grab the nearest thing to you as a weapon— the fire pit poker is thin and old in your hands, but that’s the last thing on your mind as you back away slowly, taking in the wolves that make their way into your home with sheer terror. 

One, two, three— it’s only three of them, but it’s enough to have your limbs trembling and your ears pressed flat against your head; tall, broad figures, disheveled in appearance and looking at you with eyes dilated, filled with nothing but a carnal hunger that makes your stomach twist into knots. 

It’s a standstill. They watch you with coy smiles and blown out eyes, watching as you press yourself against the wall, wondering if you can make it to the back exit of your home if you try enough— but they’re perceptive to even the most miniscule movement, every twitch of your muscle garnering a step closer from any one of them; you remain still, and so do they. It’s silent, save for the ragged heavings of your chest and the low grumbles that resonate from theirs— they have yet to make a move, locking eyes with the tallest and watching as his lips quirk into a smile.

You feel nauseous. They’re toying with you.

They could easily take you— kill you— in a split second; the second you try to run, they’ll be hot on your heels, outmatched three to one and left at their mercy entirely. And judging by the way they practically salivate at the smell of fear that radiates from you, you don’t think your fate with them will end well.

You gulp. They watch you, keen eyes taking in the way your throat bobs, the tears that fill your eyes— the way your legs look as though they’ll give out on you any moment now, the flimsy poker in your hands nothing but a joke as you point it at them in warning— as though it would do anything, they muse. 

One of them, with a head of ginger hair and eyes sharp as a knife, begins to approach; you tense, bringing the poker forward more, inhaling sharply and taking a step back— but that only garners a sharp growl from another, with pitch black hair and a gaze so threatening it renders you pliant; hesitantly, you meet the eyes of the man who stands before you, narrowed eyes taking you in with amusement. 

He reaches towards you— again you tense, flinching at the movement and weakly yelling at the wolf to stay back—! But it can only come out as a breathless whisper, your entire being rendered useless, instincts doing nothing but telling you that this is it; accept your fate, it tells you, weakening your muscles and sending off waves of fear so thick the room reeks of death and rot; your figure shrinks the moment he grabs your poker, ignoring your clearly empty warning as he lowers it forcefully, fighting easily against any strength you had left. 

“Don’t be afraid,” he smiles, baring his teeth that only makes your blood run cold— sharp canines, strong and in great condition to bite and chew even the toughest of meats— “We’ll take good care of you.”

A sharp growling impedes the man before you from closing in on you, from taking away what little space was left between you— the sound is loud and furious, making the three wolves before you turn immediately in search of the source; including you, the foreign sound making your knees buckle and the poker fall from your hands as you paralyze with fear. 

Standing in the doorway is a figure you remember quite well— the sight of him makes your eyes widen and you heart flicker a dim light of hope, watching the way he sends the three wolves before you a pointed glare, enough to make the two nearest to him avert their eyes the moment his gaze lands on them. 

“Beomgyu,” the wolf near you sneers, “what the hell are you doing?”

He doesn’t bother answering the question; his eyes land on you, on your figure that visibly trembles with fear, nostrils flaring at the scent that radiates from you and fogs the room— and he growls. 

“Get out.” 

It’s a simple command given by the man— Beomgyu—  to the others, eyes filled with an unbridled rage that makes the others flinch; they’re confused, glancing to where you remain frozen before they’re turning back at the man, as though waiting for him to back down on his words— instead, he bares his teeth, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed with rage, and repeats himself. 

“I said, get. Out.”

Silence; you can hear your heartbeat thundering in your ears as you watch the two wolves glance at the man with the bright head of ginger hair— as though looking to him for their next move. The two remain in a standstill, refusing to look away from the other, as though silently communicating. And after what feels like eternity, the wolf near you scoffs, lips upturned in annoyance as he finally looks away— he turns back to you, eyes scanning your shaken figure, and he smiles the moment your eyes meet.

“Don’t expect any mercy from him.”

You’re sure you might be on the verge of fainting as you watch them all exit, one by one; tails practically tucked between their legs, only wolf to make a fuss being the orange-haired one from before; you watch the two of them bare their teeth and make comments you can’t quite pick up on, pressing yourself firmly against the wall and jumping the moment they snap warningly at each other— a threat to bite, the sight of their sharp fangs enough to have you retreating slowly to the exit of your backyard. 

The second his back is turned from you, watching the wolves retreat to the forest, is the second you make an attempt to escape— hurried steps leading you to the kitchen, walking backwards in order to keep an eye on him— your shaking hands remain pressed against the wall in an attempt to keep yourself upright, keen eyesight taking in any small movement from him, body alight with adrenaline as you wait for the moment you can book it. 

His ears, a dark auburn just like his hair, twitch; his head snaps over to where you stand, dilated eyes meeting yours in milliseconds. 

You’re turning around to make a run for it— the floorboards creak behind you from the very sound of Beomgyu running after you, a yelp leaving you involuntarily; your feet are falling harshly on the cool tile of your kitchen, but before you can so much as outstretch your hand and reach for the doorknob of the back exit, strong hands are wrapping around your middle and spinning you around, away from your last taste of freedom. 

“Please!” you cry out aimlessly, a pained groan falling from your lips as your back collides with the wood of your counter; you’re pinned into the very corner, tears pricking at your eyes and weak hands pressing against the strong chest of the wolf before you— your eyes remain glued to the floor, soft tail trembling with abandon and ears willing hopelessly to hide your face. 

“You’re running? After I just saved you?” is all you get in response, his voice gruff and genuine as he remains unfazed at the weak pushes against his chest; his arms cage you in, body impossibly close to yours as he looms over you, watching the way you cower and make yourself shrink with wide, interested eyes. “Why do you run from me, my flower?” 

The pet name makes your stomach lurch; a soft sob escapes you, eyes closing in defeat as your mind makes peace with your demise— your shoulders shake with every attempt of yours to breathe properly, every inhale only flooding your senses and clogging your mind with the scent of the wolf above you, like a thick smoke that burns your lungs and leaves your thoughts impaired.

Beomgyu is all but salivating at the sight of you; your soft, fragile body, the tremble of your limbs, your pure and fluffy ears that are pressed flat atop your head, hands subconsciously gripping onto his shirt in a feeble attempt to keep yourself upright— your heartbeat overwhelms him, quick and panicked just like your scent; it makes his brows pinch together and a confused pout form on his lips, the familiar, delicate flower no longer radiating from your figure.

“Are you scared of me?” he murmurs, ears twitching in curiosity as you remain silent; he leans down, willing to get close even after you continue to shrink away in response, curling into yourself and keeping your chin tucked in dutifully; his hand flies to your waist in attempts to prevent you from shifting away any further, rough claws digging in through your dress and making you jolt in surprise— a shaky breath leaves your lips, the wolf that continues to inch closer to you, cocking his head in fascination. His eyes all but burn through your skin. 

“Don’t be afraid,” he whispers, lips brushing against your temple as he speaks; you remain frozen, stiff, feeling the way he continues to wander down, nosing at you softly in search for a sign of that sweet, intoxicating smell you once gave off. 

“You’re safe with me— remember?”

Your voice remains stuck inside you— all you can muster is another shaky breath as you feel his lips brush against your jaw, wandering along until he’s at your ear— then he trails down, forcing your head to tilt as his nose runs a soft line along the column; a weak whimper falls from your parted lips the moment he presses down against your pulse point, feeling him inhale slowly before he presses a soft kiss against your sensitive neck— like an automatic reaction, warmth blooms from the spot, spreading through your body, your heart telling you to calm down— but you refuse, and though Beomgyu is able to smell the sweet vanilla and the flowers that blooms from his action, it all dies into one muddled mess that leaves him to huff frustratedly. 

His hands have begun to wander— large and warm, sharp claws scratching at your garments and running up your sides before he hugs you tight, pressing your figure flush against his— and as have his lips, pressing soft kisses against your scent gland repeatedly, in search of the scent that he was only granted a mere glimpse of— soft, careful kisses at first, listening to the way you whimper and cry against him, trembling hands balling up his shirt in your fists— only to feel himself grow more desperate, out of control, his lips parted and harsh as he presses his kisses against one of the weakest points in your body. 

Beomgyu’s nose is sharp, is able to pick up on even the slightest changes within your scent— so when he picks up on the warm, subtle twinge of vanilla that peeks through everything else, he’s unable to find himself exhibiting restraint. Warm and wet, you feel his tongue press against your skin, the sharp, accidental scratch of his fangs following after— and you gasp, eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling above you as your mind finally processes what his intentions truly are, feeling your instincts take over soon after— the moment of clarity passes, and your vision fogs; your body melts against Beomgyu’s.

You’ve been sandwiched between the counter and Beomgyu’s body; even more so now that Beomgyu’s felt you submit to him, head lolling to the side and displaying your most fragile part to him, a smell of vanilla, warm and sweet like a pastry, filling his lugs soon after— you’re presenting yourself to him, eyes glassy and lips parted as you simply let out a shaky exhale. 

Your legs are parted with every attempt Beomgyu makes to get closer to you, feeling him stand in between them as he continues to cage you in, continues to kiss and lick along your exposed skin, huffing and sighing in satisfaction with every soft keen you let out in response, your mind and soul still convinced that your time has come to an end. 

From a distance, Soobin senses it; he sees the dim lights of your cottage, the door that is left ajar, crooked on its hinges— most of all, he’s able to pick up on the intoxicating sweetness that escapes from the cottage, the innocent jasmine that’s intertwined with the scent that travels with the wind— and his ears stand straight, keen senses straining to hear the soft sob that leaves your delicate lips— his body reacts before he can, and he runs straight to you. 

The sharp call of your name is all Soobin can get out before he stumbles to a stop at the kitchen doorway— his eyes remain wide and focused on the sight before him, body on edge and tail stiff as he grits his teeth in rage. 

Your doe eyes meet his instantly— they’re shining and incoherent, and Soobin wonders if you’re even conscious of where you are, of the way you whine out his name in the most fragile tone he’s ever heard. The rest of you is covered— you’ve been pressed tightly against the kitchen counter, back arching backwards due to the sheer pressure of the body that weighs you down; ragged clothing covers your own, the pink coat obscured by a white flowing, dirtied white button up, falling off the owner’s shoulder and pooling at his elbow— Soobin’s eyes follow the line of movement, taking in his arms disappear behind your waist, forcing your lower halves to be glued together, your dress bunched up at your thighs from the crude way they’ve been forced open. 

“Soobin,” you whine again, taking his attention as he watches a hand of yours appear from where they were caged in, outstretching shakily toward him before it falls limp, hanging over the arm that pulls you closer against him. 

Dark, long hair covers the face that is buried in your neck— ears of the same color adorn the top, twitching with interest at the sound before they stand forward— roughly, the head emerges from its hiding place, eyes blown open with nothing short of hunger; the wolf before Soobin bares his teeth and growls, hugging you tighter against him, stepping back and shielding you away from the dog’s view. 

Soobin doesn’t hesitate to mimic the other’s threats— he means every bit of it and more, face alight with rage and body poised in an aggressive stance— and though your face has been tucked into the wolf’s chest, though the arms that wrap around your body attempt to prevent you from being seen at all, Soobin is still able to catch glimpse of your tail that quivers with fear, of your figure that shakes pathetically from instinct. 

Loud, angry growls and spiked scents fill your senses and leaves you docile; Soobin’s sharp, strong pine mixes with Beomgyu’s thick, intoxicating smoke, painting the scene of a burning forest as they continue to warn the other, narrowed gazes and sharp canines creating yet another standstill. 

Beomgyu’s eyes catch onto Soobin’s restlessness with ease— and before he’s able to make a move, Beomgyu is manipulating your body once more, spinning you around and pressing your back firmly against him, feeling the way you follow his every command without a second thought— and when you present yourself to him for a second time from pure instinct, Beomgyu grins; his eyes lock with Soobin’s and his head cranes down, dangerously close to your scent gland that continues to release its tempting smell.

“Stay.” is all Beomgyu growls out, eyeing the way Soobin freezes immediately, wide eyes watching the way Beomgyu’s mouth opens, tongue lolling out lazily before it’s running slowly against your shoulder, gliding along until it stops dutifully against the joint of your neck, pressing down to feel your pulse— Soobin flinches, undoubtedly wanting to lunge forward, but is stopped again by the wicked smile Beomgyu sends him, sharp canines meticulously on display. 

You’re all left frozen— Beomgyu’s arm that has been thrown around your waist toys with the hem of your cute coat, the other that presses against your heart feeling the quick pounding against his palm— and he laughs, inching his hand up slowly until it’s around your neck, his index and thumb exuding little effort to keep your head upright, watching your eyes slowly meet Soobin’s.

“Any sudden moves,” Beomgyu begins again, eyes flickering down to your neck, watching the quick rise and fall of your chest with fascination, feeling the way your throat constricts with every swallow against his palm— and he smiles, looking back at Soobin and allowing his tongue to run over the top row of his teeth leisurely, “and she’s mine to claim.”

Silence; Soobin takes a moment to weigh his options, to inspect the scenery before him— the wolf means it, Soobin is quick to realize, seeing the way he all but drools over your exposed neck and faint figure— and he meets your eyes again, attempting to decipher what you may be thinking, only to realize that you’re not composed at all; you’ve been stripped down to nothing but your basic survival instincts, and yet it seems as though your brain has told you that it’s best to give up any fight you have left inside you.

Soobin feels his jaw ache from the way his teeth grit together angrily— and with a soft huff, he becomes the first to look away from Beomgyu entirely, turning his head in defeat and forcing his body to back down. 

“Good dog,” Beomgyu coos mockingly, grinning unabashedly at the sight of Soobin’s face twisting up in anger; he turns to you, placing a slow, lingering kiss on your cheek before he murmurs softly into your ear. “My flower, don’t you want to show him how perfect you are for me?” 

Beomgyu doesn’t expect a response from you; the way you whine and shift restlessly against him is enough, having already felt him rutting against you the moment he had you caged against the counter— and he continues to do so, even now, the hand on your throat forcing you to tilt your head, allowing him access to suck and bite on the clean canvas of your skin; your eyes flutter shut, and you’re left to rely on his strength to hold you upright, body rocking gently with every thrust that is delivered from the wolf behind you. 

“So sweet for me,” Beomgyu groans, his hands letting go of their respective places before they begin getting busy; your legs feel shaky and you’re left to watch as he undoes the ties of your coat, slipping it off before he reaches to bunch your thin skirt at your waist— you gasp softly, face heating up at the feeling of being so exposed, hands flying to pull down your skirt on instinct— but you’re granted no such reprieve, stilling immediately as a growl leaves Beomgyu’s lips at your action.

Soobin’s head is snapping back at the two of you at the sound of the threat— his eyes widen and he inhales sharply, a clear mistake that only makes Beomgyu grin— your scent, thick and progressively needier, clouds Soobin’s mind, clouds his judgment, unable to do anything more than stare at the way Beomgyu has you in his arms, canines still glittering under the soft lights of your home as a constant warning. 

“You smell it too,” Beomgyu speaks, his words less of a question and more of a fact— Soobin’s eyes dilate and his nostrils flare that moment Beomgyu’s lithe fingers begin to wander around the hem of your panties, feeling your thighs press together and your hands grip at his forearm shyly; from Soobin’s distance, he’s able to pick up on the tears that hang on your waterline, the way your lip quivers from the humiliation of being exposed so crudely. 

“Innocent thing…” Beomgyu murmurs, dipping down to swipe the pad of his middle finger across your slit, listening to the yelp that escapes your lips, feeling your body buckle against him— and sure enough, a spike of your scent follows after, like an addicting toxin that only fuels the desire of the two canines before you, “So tempting. So good.” 

You’re crying softly at the way he continues to tease you, overwhelmed by the foreign sensation, mouth parting in shock as his hand sneaks past the waistband of your panties; you feel as though shocks of electricity flow through you the moment he brushes against your clit, teasingly at first, only to begin circling it steadily soon after— and you can only moan and whine for more, unknowingly bucking your hips forward in search for something else that can satisfy you. 

When your eyes meet Soobin’s, you can only feel a hot wave of shame flow through you— his expression is unreadable; is he embarrassed of you? Disgusted, ashamed that you have already given in to the simplest threats? You’re not remotely near as strong as he is, you defend yourself mentally, you’re sure that it was either this or— or…

“You filthy mutt,” Beomgyu spits out beside you, laughing softly at the way Soobin has yet to take his eyes off you, eyes narrowed meanly and brows tugged together, an expression that could be easily read as rage— but Beomgyu knows better, watching as the said man jumps at the sudden sound of the other’s voice, gaze hardening the moment they lock eyes; Beomgyu huffs out another mocking laugh. 

“You like this, don’t you?” Beomgyu asks, as though he were sharing a secret— behind you, you feel his hips buck against you, able to feel the hardness of his cock as he uses his free hand to press just below your navel, forcing you back on him— and you gasp, his ministrations against your clit never ceasing as he continues to fuck against you slowly, groaning breathlessly at the feeling of your warm body against him; Beomgyu’s eyes never leave Soobin’s, however, pupils filled with nothing but a mocking joy as he continues breathlessly.

“You want her.”

Another wave of arousal floods though you at his words, filling the room and reaching the two men before you with ease; you’re able to see and feel the way their chests rise slowly, the way they take in your essence before letting out pleased sighs, their own strong, heady scents filling your senses as you simply flutter your eyes shut and whine with need.

“No need to deny it,” Beomgyu grins, leaning his head against yours fondly, middle finger abandoning your clit to tease your entrance, your mouth falling open and hips twitching in surprise at the feeling— the man behind you simply watches with amusement, watches the way you meet Soobin’s gaze shyly, body heated up with embarrassment as you can only let out pathetic cries and breathless gasps with every new stimulation— and Beomgyu’s finger enters you slowly, meticulously, angling himself just right; your vision is fogging at the stretch, hands gripping onto the strong forearm that helps keep your upright as you merely beg for more. 

“I’m sure she’d love to give you a show,” he continues, palm pressing against your clit, other hand guiding your hips to roll steadily against his hand— he chuckles softly at the way you’re pliant for him, following his every command without a second thought, “filthy, greedy thing.” 

Though Beomgyu directs those comments at you with a voice of acid-like hatred, the way he stares at you is anything but; his eyes are just as keen as the rest of him, willing to not miss a single reaction you make for him, from the way your voice breaks with need to the way your fingers twitch helplessly against his skin— his body buzzes with a desperate energy, his cock pulsing and begging to be inside you the longer he feels you rock helplessly against him— lucky for him, you seem to be getting just as desperate. 

“Get your filthy hands off her,” Soobin seethes, though he’s unable to make a move to get you away— a single twitch of his tail enough to garner a harsh sneer from Beomgyu, teeth snapping together in warning— the idea of having you claimed, taken, and possibly killed by the monstrosity that holds you hostage is enough to keep Soobin complacent for now, undoubtedly waiting for the moment the wolf no longer has easy access to such a vital part of you to make his move.

Beomgyu doesn’t heed the other’s comment— if anything, he laughs, prodding a second finger at your entrance, forcing the other to listen to the way you perk up and cry in panic, poor inexperienced body not used to the stretch, to the curve of his fingers as he presses against your soaking, tightening walls, calloused skin making you shiver as he forces you to grind against him, to fuck yourself on his fingers. 

“Hmm? Don’t touch her?” Beomgyu asks, curious fingers stretching you open slowly, grinning at the way you throw your head back against his shoulder and whine, a hand slapping over the arm that currently fucks your slowly, pressing against it in feeble attempts of getting more, “What, does it upset you that you won’t be getting to her first?” 

With a particularly calculated thrust of Beomgyu’s fingers, you’re jolting up and letting out a broken moan; he proceeds to continue to abuse the weak spot within you cruelly, watching with an amused gaze as you continue to fall apart against him like clockwork. You’re getting wound up quite quickly, not used to the intense feeling of pleasure being provided to you— and Beomgyu takes in the sight eagerly, smiling in amusement before he’s stopping abruptly, watching your head hang and your chest heave from the sudden loss of stimulation. 

“Does it anger you?” his fingers slide out from your cunt slowly; you twitch at the feeling of emptiness, barely processing the way his hand slowly snakes its way back up, grabbing at your neck and forcing you to look forward again— his fingers, covered in your arousal, prod at your mouth, and in your dumbed state, you can only follow his commands and part your lips dutifully; your tongue circles around his digits and your lips close around them, flushed face painting a lewd scene that only makes Soobin tense; beside you, Beomgyu smiles wickedly. 

“Knowing that you’re about to watch her get fucked open— get knotted good— by a wolf?” 

Soobin thinks he might be seeing red at this point; his hands remain by his side, closed into a tight fist that has his nails threatening to break through his skin— but that’s the least of his worries, especially with the way your ears twitch and your body perks up at the wolf’s words— both of the men are able to pick up on your reaction with ease, one clearly much happier than the other at the sight. 

“You know, if you behave, I might give you a turn.” Beomgyu looks over at you, chuckling softly before he removes his fingers from your mouth, only to grab at your face and turn it roughly to look at him; his fingers dig into your cheeks and his forehead presses against yours, taking one glance at your hazy expression before he’s cooing softly. “I’m sure you’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

All you can do is muster a broken whine in response. 

Beomgyu is letting go of your face with a soft chuckle; slowly, you muster the courage to look forward once more, inevitably meeting Soobin’s gaze as a result— his expression is unreadable, and it makes your knees feel weak— your mind races to try and decipher what he may be thinking about, left unaware of the way Beomgyu has let go of your dress, letting the skirt fall slowly over your front as he busies himself in lifting it from the back instead, allowing himself access and grazing your skin curiously; it is only then that you’re coming back to your senses, heart rate picking up with a panic and body bristling the moment you feel the wolf’s hands wandering across the swell of your ass, muttering soft praise that doesn’t quite reach you— a firm hand grabs at your waist, keeping you in place the moment you tried to shift away from him shyly, tried to cover yourself with a weak protests that only garnered yet another growl; with wide eyes, you looked to Soobin, unaware of the helplessness that coated your glassy pupils. 

“Soobin,” you cry yet again, blood growing cold at the way he simply seems to stand and watch; his gaze seems to have wandered, seems to have been following Beomgyu’s every action, adam’s apple bobbing at the sudden sound of impact that filled the room, the sound of your yelp followed by the sight of your pathetic hands attempting to swat Beomgyu away, easily overpowered the moment the wolf gathers your wrists in his tight hold and scolds you to stay still, his claws digging threateningly into the soft skin— and again, your head whips back around to look at Soobin, ignoring the keen stance of his ears and the slow, interested sway of his tail as you simply call out to him again, “Soobin, please…”

You’re not sure what you’re begging for any more. All you know now is the feeling of Beomgyu’s broad chest pressed against yours, the muddy feeling of your brain as smoke fills your lungs, allowing your head to loll back against his shoulder, allowing your hips to begin to grind back against the hard bulge that has begun to tease you, shivering softly at the way Beomgyu’s head remains buried in your shoulder, pulling you back against him firmly— you barely register the way your voice whines in protest the moment you feel his lips pull away from your delicate skin, abandoning the gentle kisses and sucks to sneer triumphantly, his low voice a half-hearted replica of yours as he proceeds to parrot your words softly. 

“Soobin…” Beomgyu sing-songs, reaching his free hand down to tug at the waistband of your panties, soaked through with arousal that leaves your inner thighs shining pathetically; the said man is snapped out of his trance immediately, enticed gaze hardening the second his eyes find Beomgyu, chin perched on your shoulder leisurely as he continues to tug your panties down, feeling the way they slip down your hips ever-so slowly, “Soobin, come here.”

When Soobin refuses, Beomgyu scoffs— though, he doesn’t seem to be surprised in the slightest. 

“Come on Soobin,” Beomgyu repeats again, softly this time, eyes half-lidded as his mouth dips down to kiss your skin; right at your scent gland, tongue darting out before his eyes dart up to lock eyes with Soobin— you can feel goosebumps form on your skin as Beomgyu laughs breathily, mouth still open as he proceeds to nip at the spot gently; not enough to break skin, not enough to leave a mark, but enough to make you squeal and jolt in surprise. Soobin flinches. 

“Come.”

It takes a pleading look from your tear-brimmed eyes for him to move. A slow, hesitant step first, pausing momentarily to gauge Beomgyu’s reaction— the said man quirks a brow in amusement, a silent encouragement to continue— and Soobin finally finds himself looming over the two of you, eyes dark and narrowed as he watches you reach out for him with a trembling hand— curling his shirt into your fists, leaning forward and resting your forehead against his chest, body unintentionally arched forward and left in the perfect position for the man behind you— Beomgyu simply coos softly at the action, a false sense of endearment that makes Soobin’s teeth grit with rage; when their eyes meet, the wolf simply smiles. 

“Kiss her,” Beomgyu says, the words almost inaudible from how softly they were uttered— but then he’s grabbing at your head and forcing you to look back up, ignoring the sound of protest you make and holding you up by your jaw as he tilts your head to look at Soobin, fingers squeezing your cheeks and forcing them into a soft pout, “Go on. She’s dying for you to touch her.”

Beomgyu speaks as though he were the one in control of your body and mind— and perhaps he is, you find yourself thinking, teary eyes unable to communicate anything more than want as you feel your panties slowly dragging down your thighs, the wolf behind you hissing softly at the sight of the string of arousal that sticks to the fabric, your slick cunt tightening around nothing in response— Beomgyu’s fingers find themselves teasing your entrance again, three this time, dipping in and out of your cunt, stretching you yet leaving you craving for more.

“I…” Soobin breathes out, reaching out slowly for your face; Beomgyu’s rough hand retreats, and it’s replaced by Soobin’s large, gentle ones that cup your face and stroke your cheekbones, watching the way your eyes flutter up to look at him, tears clinging to your lashes like crystals; his eyes follow the path one makes as it falls, thumb wiping it away softly as he finds himself leaning closer, watches the way your lids fall and leave your eyes hazy and obedient.

This is it, Soobin realizes, eyes flickering back to where Beomgyu continues to tease you, much too lost in the sight of your cunt trying desperately to suck in his nimble fingers to pay much attention to the two of you, this is his chance— he can save you. 

You seem to catch onto Soobin’s calculative gaze quite quickly this time— and your heart flutters with a slight hope, your chest falling in quick, shallow breaths as your hands tighten against the fabric of his shirt— his eyes flicker back to yours from the action, taking in the way they hold that innocent light of yours he’s always adored— and his heart breaks. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. 

There’s nothing you can say to that; his lips are on yours before you can so much as let out another breath. They’re soft, hesitant, as though you could shatter if he touched you wrong. His hands shake slightly as he holds your face close to his, feels the way your mouth remains frozen for a second, only reciprocating once you’ve felt the soft pass of his tongue against you— and your overwhelmed mind blanks entirely. For the final time tonight, you submit. 

The kiss is slow, it’s deepening out of your control, and it’s everything you imagined many moons ago, when you first began to feel a spark of desire for the man before you— when you swooned and flustered at the comfort you found in him, the warm feeling that always settled in your chest when he was next to you, knowing you could always go to him for protection. 

So as you feel his hold on you become firmer, feel the way he sighs against your mouth with no intentions to let you go soon, you wonder what it is you feel now— trapped between the two canines, lungs burning and and mouth left open as you allow Soobin to venture inside, not allowed any reprieve from the man who keeps you close, a soft groan leaving your lips as your sensitive ears pick up on foreign, slick sounds behind you, hisses and sighs of pleasure from another— because the feeling that pools in your stomach isn’t remotely reminiscent of the gentle, delicate warmth you always felt around Soobin; it’s hotter, angrier, greedier— it begs to be satiated and throws away the last good sense of judgment you had within you. 

“Soobin— oh god, Soobin—” you hiccup suddenly, finally able to escape from the said man’s mouth that seems to chase endlessly after yours; even now, you still can’t help but cry for him, your body unprepared for the sudden feeling of a cockhead swiping at your slit, the wet noises that arise from the sheer arousal that continues to leak out of you. You cry and you beg with hot shame burning at your skin, unsure of whether you plead for mercy or for more— your body arches and your hips seek for more, cunt throbbing at the feeling of Beomgyu’s tip pressing at your entrance, his rough hands rubbing circles along your ass absentmindedly, but your heart twists and makes a thick lump build in your throat, wishing nothing more than to be experiencing this all differently, in the comfort of your room and in the secure, warm embrace of the man in front of you— you wish for something more intimate, something as gentle as the love you felt. 

But all Soobin does is watch. He strokes your hair with a slow hand and cups your cheek fondly, presses a lingering kiss to your forehead before wandering down to press another at the tip of your nose— and he soaks up the pitiful sounds that make your voice break, feeling your hands attempt to steady themselves against him as Beomgyu begins to enter you; slowly, salivating at the way he feels your walls stretch around him, struggling to adjust to merely the tip— he stares down at your dripping pussy with a parted mouth, letting out a slow breath at the sight of your legs that threaten to buckle and your fluffy tail that goes wild with every inch he eases in— and he finds himself having to take deep breaths to not take you as he wants then and there.

“It’s okay. I know, I know— I’m right here, I’m right here with you,” Soobin murmurs against your skin, placing slow kisses along your jaw, allowing you to duck into the crook of his neck for solace— and he smooths your hair as he feels you nuzzle into him, eyes hooking onto the sight over your shoulder of Beomgyu entering you, the feeling of his hips flush against your ass bringing about another shuddered sigh from your lips, nails digging into Soobin’s chest as you attempt to overcome the new sensations. 

“I got you, don’t worry my doll,” Soobin utters, a hand going to place itself on top of your own, intertwining his fingers with yours before he begins to weigh it down, to guide it down his chest— he lets out a shaky sigh, feeling you cry and squirm against him, “It’s okay… just relax and you’ll feel good, okay?” 

“Don’t you wanna feel good?” Soobin coos against your temple, eyes fluttering shut as he feels you nod against his shoulder, feels the way your hand has successfully breached past his underwear, pants already undone and still guided by his much larger hand as he brings you to palm him slowly, wrapping your shaky fingers around his length; you’re hesitant, unsure of your actions as you allow Soobin to show you what to do— though, you don’t think your brain has truly processed what he’s doing with you yet, preoccupied instead by the thick smoke along with another smell that leaves you feeling lightheaded, along with the feeling of hands groping and smoothing over your skin as a heavy cock continues to twitch inside you. 

Beomgyu isn’t quite fond by your sudden shift of attention; his lips remain upturned in distaste, watching intently as Soobin continues to use you however he likes, your face that remains hidden in his neck directly able to smell the calming, dizzying scent Soobin exudes, placating you and dumbing you down to nothing but a fuckdoll for him— his eyes trail down to where he has you jerking him off slowly, Soobin’s lips pressing kisses to the top of your head as he continues to murmur soft praises that have you melting against him— an unfamiliar, hot streak of rage courses through Beomgyu’s system at the sight. 

“So ungrateful,” Beomgyu scolds suddenly, reaching forward to grab a fistful of your hair and bring you back— he’s forceful, uncaring of the way you protest, an arm that’s wrapped around your stomach pressing you flush against him as he forces the two of you to move— and you’re left bent over the counter, face pressed against the wood and wrists secured behind your back as Beomgyu bunches the skirt of your dress at your hips and bottoms out inside you once again; you hiss at the feeling, looking to the side to see that Soobin is unfazed by the action— if anything, his eyes cloud with lust at the scene before him, taking in the way you’re stuffed full and arched prettily with a gulp. 

“Why won’t you pay attention to me?” Beomgyu asks breathlessly, looking down at your pliant figure with blown out eyes, tail whipping side to side in anger as he catches the way your gaze still seeks out Soobin’s, eyes unknowingly pleading for reassurance— and he growls, low and heavy in his throat, catching the attention of both of you successfully— but he only cares to have your eyes on him, fully engrossed in the way your mouth falls open and your eyes roll back the moment he ruts into you with rough, slow thrusts. 

“Look at me,” Beomgyu groans, pulling out slowly as he speaks, all the way out until the tip of his cock is the only thing catching at your entrance. You’re squirming, trying to move your hips back against him, but the brutal hold Beomgyu has on you keeps you in place; ears pressed flat against your head, you look over your shoulder, back at the wolf who continues to fuck his tip into you with subtle thrusts, sneering at your glassy eyes that continue to look at him with a jarring innocence. 

“That’s right,” he breathes, sinking into you oh so slowly, filling you up and laughing cruelly at the way your hands scramble to hold onto something for stability, for a simple comfort Beomgyu denies, “Eyes on me.” 

Beomgyu fucks you to prove a point; he fucks you so your eyes roll back and your mouth spills moans and whines dumbly, cock filling you to the brim and stretching you out in a way you never knew was possible— the sounds are lewd and has your skin burning, slick, wet sounds of skin against skin filling up the room and mixing along with your cries of pleasure. Beomgyu doesn’t seem to be doing any better than you, transfixed entirely on the sight of your cunt sucking him in eagerly, dripping with slick that makes his cock shine and falls to the floor in a mess, of your ass that ripples with every smack of his hips against you— this is all so new to you, he can tell, your body buzzing with an insatiable need that turns you into nothing more than a cock-hungry whore, your tail wiggling desperately with every harsh thrust of his, as though hypnotizing him to keep going.

The sight of you— a drooling, crying, moaning mess— is the polar opposite of your sweet, naive self, your trusting self that got you into this situation in the first place— and it makes Soobin’s cock twitch with raw lust, the spectacle of you becoming ruined so easily something he never thought he’d witness; such a pure thing, Soobin always felt as though you needed to be treated like glass— but Beomgyu is more than willing to prove that’s not the case with you, growling pure filth at you as he continues to fuck you into the counter, watching the way he hovers over you, practically caging you in with his body, as though wishing for the two of you to become one. And just like before, Soobin watches. He stands to the side and listens to every sweet mewl of yours attentively— after all, he’ll get his hands on you soon enough.

“Tight little cunt— fuckin’ takes me so well,” Beomgyu murmurs into your ear, panting and groaning at the way you tighten around him, “such a good girl for me— shit, you like that? Like it when I talk nice to you?”

Beomgyu is quick to catch onto every little reaction of yours, including the way you tighten hopelessly around him every time he sings soft praises into your ears; it makes you want to hide your face in shame and deny his questions, but you barely get a chance to speak with the way he fucks you— fat cock stretching you out, leaving you speechless as he continues to pound into you firmly, sloppy mouth nipping and marking all over your neck; feeling him on your shoulders and back, canines brutishly ripping at your clothes to get more access to your innocent skin, feeling the way your walls squeeze with every scratch of his sharp teeth against you, eager to get his lips onto any part of you he can. 

“Fuck, fuckfuckfuck, you’re— shit– you’re squeezing me so tight, can barely fuck you,” he rambles off, hand letting go of your wrists so he can grab your hips and pull you back onto him— you’re wailing at the feeling, hands failing to stabilize you as you hold onto the counter, eyes screwed shut as you babble at Beomgyu to slow down— but of course, he doesn’t listen, too caught up in the feeling of you to pay any attention, “Oh, are you close, sweet thing? I can feel you— can feel you getting closer.”

“Do you wanna cum?” He asks you in that same, sweet voice laced with faux pity, smiling unabashedly at the way you immediately nod in response, giving in to his brutal pace, “tell me how bad you want it then.” 

“Please… please let me…” you trail off, unable to communicate properly with the way Beomgyu continues to fuck you, not granting you any mercy as he watches you struggle, “need– need t’cum, want it, feels so good.” 

Beomgyu laughs, the sound labored and breathy from the way you clench around him throughout it; he finds himself glancing over to where Soobin continues to watch, the sight of him focused entirely on your figure making him sneer— his eyes are hypnotized by you and his ears twitch at every weak word that spills from your mouth, lips parted as he all but drools for you— the drastic contrast in character has Beomgyu’s lips twitching in amusement, wondering just where that overprotective bodyguard of yours has gone.

“Yeah? Am I making you feel good?” he mocks, watching as your bowed head nods instantly; he huffs, glancing back at Soobin before he coos softly at you, “Who’s making you feel so nice? Tell me, pretty thing.”

The sudden mention of the pet name is enough to set you off unexpectedly; your mind goes blank entirely, save for a single thought that continues to roll of your tongue like a mantra: 

“Beomgyu,” you cry, sobs wracking at your body from the intense feeling, your voice interrupted with loud, uncontrollable moans, “You— it’s you– Beomgyu— please, please— too much…!”

Beomgyu continues to fuck you until your legs tremble and your body weight is placed entirely on the counter, hips held up entirely by the strength of the man behind you as he finally heeds your pleas; he slows until he’s bottomed out inside you, feeling the way your walls continue to pulse as you whimper quietly at the sensitivity— such a touchy thing, Beomgyu muses to himself, looking down at your messy cunt and feeling the way his cock twitches, still in need to fill you up properly.

“Can’t take anymore?” Beomgyu asks apathetically— and though you weakly let out a sound of affirmation, you can tell he doesn’t really care to hear your answer; not with the way he strokes at your skin in fascination, wandering hand pulling at the base of your tail and watching you squeal in surprise, body arching in an attempt to get away— you all but slump into a pool of overstimulation once he finally lets you go, foggy mind barely able to pick up the way he tsks. 

“Don’t lie— you can, I’m sure you can,” Beomgyu tuts, watching with amusement as you pout and petulantly shake your head, “you’re a good girl, you can take whatever we give you.” 

You don’t seem to process the meaning of his words to a full extent— you’re too far gone to do so, body turned weak as you continue to try and stabilize yourself, chest heaving with every breath you take. But it doesn’t matter if you’ve caught on to what’s happening around you, your every movement taken care of by the two men that cage you in— your shudder at the feeling of Beomgyu pulling out of you, the slick sound drowned out by the crude praises Beomgyu growls; two, strong hands are pulling you up next, proceeding to maneuver you so you sit on the counter— Soobin stands between your legs, looking at you with eyes filled with want and an undeniable pity; he takes in your worn, marked and messy figure intently, watching as his eyes linger on the rips of your dress and the marks all around your shoulders. His hands go up to the area, and your eyes flutter shut, body craving to be covered, to be coddled and tidied. 

“Such a perfect doll for me,” Soobin sighs out, beginning to tug down at what’s left of the material, watching the way you shudder and open your eyes with a slight shock— a whine bubble up at the back of your throat, but you can’t really find the strength to protest the way you’re slowly left undressed before the two pairs of hungry eyes before you, no longer able to find the energy to feel embarrassment from being left bare— Soobin’s voice is as gentle as his movements, feeling him lift your hips so he can slide the dress off you properly; it wasn’t very hard to do anyway, the fabric practically hanging together by a single thread, “It’s alright… I’ve got you.” 

When Soobin wraps your legs around his waist and hoists you off the counter, you can only wrap your arms around his shoulders and lean your forehead on his shoulder, seeking for more of the scent that calms you down and leaves you mindless; your grip tightens the moment you feel the head of his cock poking at your entrance, painfully hard as he sighs out shakily at the feeling of your sensitive walls fluttering at the feeling— he’s stretching you out slowly, filling you up, and all you can do is bury your head into his neck and try to calm your breathing, taking in the thick sage that fills your senses.

Soobin stays buried deep inside you for a moment, cursing at the tight embrace of your heat around him; you allow yourself to relax— it doesn’t last long though, body jolting with shocks as you feel another head poking at your already stuffed cunt. 

“Wait— wait– I can’t— too full, it won’t fit…!” you cry out, looking at Soobin in a panic; a broad chest pressed firmly against your back, familiar lips pressing a chaste kiss to your shoulder— Soobin’s eyes are dark as he takes you in, ears forward and twitching at your pleas; softly, he shakes his head in reassurance.

“You can,” is all Soobin murmurs, watching your face twist as Beomgyu begins to push into you— little by little, stretching you past your limits, resting his chin on your shoulder and shutting his eyes at the sensitive feeling— tears stream down your cheeks freely, soft hiccups escaping you as Beomgyu’s hips press flush against you from behind; Soobin reaches up to caress your head, to pet gently at your ears, and smiles. “See? You’re doing so well. You can take it.”

You shake your head to refute his claims— but it’s not as though that would change the way they’ve begun to slowly pull out, setting their individual paces that inevitably work together, leaving you full no matter what— and it has your head falling back, mouth falling open dumbly as they begin to fuck you; slowly at first, gently, only because your poor cunt has yet to adjust to the size of them. But once they feel the way you leak onto them, the way your cunt begins to clench as their tips ram into places that have your eyes rolling to the back of your head, they begin to find the confidence to use you how they want. 

Eventually, you’re nothing but putty in their arms; weakly grabbing onto anything you can for support, one finding a firm grip onto Soobin’s shoulder as the other ventured to tangle itself in Beomgyu’s hair— the said man continues to keep his head buried in your neck, lips having a mind of their own as he continues to nose at your scent gland; the action of him nuzzling against it, of him scenting you, is enough to have you a whining mess, fingers tugging at his hair desperately; it only serves to have him fuck into you harder, hips snapping ruthlessly against yours and rough groans escaping him from the pleasure. 

“Fuck, such a good cunt, so tight— ah,” Soobin groans, watching as your eyes flutter open to look at him, teary and catching the moonlight that shines down through the window; he cups your cheek, stroking at your cheekbone fondly as he speaks, “so pretty… you’re so pretty, all I’ve ever wanted— god, you’re perfect.”

The look of adoration Soobin gives you isn’t lost on you entirely— but there’s something else that rears its head within his gaze, hungry and desperate, threatening to swallow you whole— and you realize that, for the first time ever, Soobin seems to be staring at you as though you were nothing but prey; something for him to claim and own. 

But it seems as though he’s not the only one who possesses those particular feelings— Beomgyu’s pace seems to be growing erratic behind you, knocking you forward against Soobin’s chest and leaving you to wail at the feeling of his cock ruthlessly pounding into you, uncaring of the rhythm the other has set in place; he mumbles gruff words against your neck, but it’s all muffled and interrupted by huffed out moans he lets out in between— but your poor cunt seems to catch onto what he might be saying quite clearly. 

“C-close, oh shit, ‘m so close,” Beomgyu says, finally perking up from his place in the crook of your neck to speak directly into your ear, placing sloppy kisses at your jaw as he does, “Ah, d’you feel that? Yeah? Want me to cum inside you?”

You know what his question really entails— you know what your answer should be. But your body simply trembles and your brain short circuits at the thought, traitorous to the last bits of reasoning within you as you dumbly nod at his request; he lets out a moan at the sight. 

“Yeah, you do, don’t you? Want my knot, wanna be bred— ffffuck, I’ll give it to you, I’ll knot you, make you mine,” his every movement has become erratic; Soobin finds it hard to continue fucking you, undeniably sensitive to the harsh pace the other has set— but Beomgyu doesn’t care, leaning in close to your ear to whisper his next words. 

“I’ll claim you,” he breathes out, enjoying the way your little tail thrashes against him at the sound, panic filling your tone for a second before you melt into the idea, too fucked out to be able to refuse anymore— if anything, you tighten like a vice around the two, bringing out sensitive sounds from the two; Beomgyu continues to ramble into your ear, much bolder now that he’s taken control of the situation. 

“You want it— oh fuck, yeah, you’ll make such a pretty mate, all for me,” he growls, his words slipping to the other’s ears and alerting him, his eyes widening yet his pace not stopping, “all mine— mine, mine mine— o-oh, shit—!”

It all happens so fast. The swelling of a knot inside you, stretching you out to the point where you find yourself sobbing, pawing at whatever you can and begging for them to slow down, to be gentle— hot cum fills you, your cunt only able to handle so much as Soobin’s cock is pushed out, just enough so his own knot doesn’t catch, his orgasm triggering immediately after— it’s so much, yet it’s not enough, your whole being pulsing with desire for the final thing to push you to the edge— and it comes in the form of sharp canines digging deep into your neck. 

The right side of your neck stings— then, your left. Two sets of teeth have found their home within your skin, the last of your freedom stripped away as your orgasm swallows you whole— you tremble and you twitch within their hold, cunt filled and leaking with their cum, unable to do anything more than lie within their embrace and take what they give you. 

Your eyes feel heavy; you will yourself to stay awake, but your vision becomes spotted within moments— for the first time in a while, your mind is able to find peace.

 ≪ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆≫  

When you finally wake, you find yourself surrounded by warmth; with heavy blankets over your figure, you’re able to recognize the place as your room. You attempt to look around, but are immediately met with a searing pain— the night’s events flood through your mind all at once, and suddenly, you’re able to sense the presence of two others next to you; their arms wrap around you and they remain glued to your side, one embrace much more familiar than the other. 

Through your line of sight, you’re able to spot the moon that peaks through your window, hovering just above the dark, looming canopy of the forest. You stare and you stare, unsure of what to make of everything— of what you’re feeling, of the bodies that shift beside you, pulling you closer to them, as though it could never be enough. 

Your eyes sting, and after a second, you find yourself mourning. Mourning for your loss of freedom, for the overwhelming amount of sensations you were put through, and for this complex, dangerous situation you’ve been thrust into. 

You were warned of the forest; you were warned that nothing good came from venturing within. 

But even then, nothing could have saved you from the creatures that roamed beyond.

[stanfanfiction]

Taste of You - Ken x fem! reader - PART SIX.FIVE

Six is my lucky number so hopefully you all enjoy the new only-exists-for-smut .5 🫠🫠🫠 sorry this took forever. I kept wanting to end it on a story-building note but couldn’t ever settle on one that I liked, so it is what it is for now.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY / sex toys / bondage / fingering / p! In v! / oral f! & m! Receiving / multiple orgasms / it’s a .5 chapter it literally exists solely for the sake of smut so have fun besties / super jealous Ken / rough sex / possessive / spanking / pet names (baby girl) (good girl) / praise / edging / overstim / exhaustion

Ooooohhhhh no no no no….

It was the first day of your Fall flex term class. You still had your normal Fall/Winter full time classes happening but you had decided to sign up for the new four-week course as well, since the professor was a favorite author of yours and you didn’t want to miss out on the opportunity to learn from her.

Ken had been with you most of the day. His job at the bubble tea shop was fascinating to him and he asked if he come come to campus with you to explain how magical his first day of work was because he felt being stuck at home would be too boring.

You got to your classroom and turned to Ken. “Alright, you can go hang at the library or something, it’s right next to this building and I’ll come get you when class is over.”

Your new professor heard you as she was walking down the hallway to the classroom herself.

“Oh, he can hang out in class, I don’t mind,” she smiled. “It’s a huge classroom so I’m sure one of seats towards the top back corners will be available if you wanted to stay.”

You wanted to ponder this invite for a moment but Ken had already smiled back and was walking in front of you into the classroom. He was able to have a seat towards the back like the professor had suggested, and he settled in to see what a day in class looked like.

The classroom was one of those giant theater-like seating arenas and echoed a decent amount anytime anyone was talking, so it was definitely echo-y today as students filed in and began sitting down and visiting with their new classmates around them.

The clock was about to hit what was the start time for class when a last person walked into the room and you suddenly regretted choosing a seat towards the front, only because maaayybbee he somehow wouldn’t notice who you were and then Ken wouldn’t have a nervous breakdown of finding out who this guy was. Because of course Ken is attending a class…with you in it…and your ex Dave was now walking over to the professor as she handed him some papers.

The professor introduced herself to the class and motioned towards Dave, who sat near the front of the room as well, and told everyone he would be her TA for the semester.

“Don’t notice me,” you pleaded in your head. You weren’t worried about him, oh no. Dave was honestly a super cool guy and even though your relationship had mostly focused on having fun and sex, you had both parted ways awhile ago on good terms and you hadn’t even considered that he probably still attended school here, as, if you remembered correctly, he would probably be graduating either later this year or early next year. It made sense why he was here, but what was going to not make sense was probably how jealous Ken would get if he found out that this Dave was the Dave he had already had a mild breakdown over.

“Holy….y/n?” He did notice, fuck.

You smiled and greeted him softly, knowing Ken could easily see everything but hearing might be a different matte- oh wait no, the room echoed.

“It’s so good to see you again!”

“You, too! I forgot you hadn’t graduated yet so seeing you is a surprise,” you said cheerily.

“A good surprise, right?” He chuckled and winked.

“For sure.”

He handed you a piece of paper. “This is today’s sign-in sheet. Can you start it and then pass it around?”

“Of course.” You took the paper from his hand and began scribbling your name down.

“Hey, this guy won’t stop looking at you.”

You looked at Dave then looked over your shoulder. Yep, of course Ken had noticed.

“Yeah, uh, that’s my boyfriend. He gets kinda fixated on something at times.”

“Like you?”

“That’s…accurate.”

Dave laughed. “I love it. He looks fun. I wish I could pull pink off as well as he does.”

You laughed a little then and smiled at Ken before turning your attention back to the sheet and passed it once you had finished writing your name and email.

Your phone vibrated against your hip and you pulled the phone from your pocket, already knowing who it would be. You had bought him a phone last week and he wasn’t usually on it very much but he was most definitely going to be using it during class now….

“Do you know him?” (Ken)

“Yes. Old friend. Just saying hi.” (You)

“Old fiend named Dave.” (Ken)

“Old friend, not fiend.” (You)

“Same Dave that I know about?” (Ken)

“And this is important because..?” (You)

“Because you’ll be in a class with him for three days each week for the next month.” (Ken)

“Yeah that’s how class works, Ken.” (You)

“I don’t like it.” (Ken)

“You don’t have to.” (You)

“What if he wants to study together?” (Ken)

“He won’t. That’s not how TA / student relationships work.” (You)

“But he still goes to class here? So he would want to study for another class.” (Ken)

“Baby I gotta put my phone away, they’re not really allowed to be active on during class. Don’t worry. You know I love you.” (You)

“Come sit with me, at least.” (Ken)

You had already silenced your phone and put it in your book bag before the last text got sent so you could focus on the lecture. Ken knew you hadn’t seen the last text and tried to keep his internal anxiety at bay.

He wished this awful man from your previous affairs wasn’t sitting in class, distracting every fiber of his being, because the lecture actually sounded interesting, especially since the teacher kept referencing a book called “Black Beauty,” which was apparently about a horse. Ken would have to ask you about it later, and definitely check it out of the library.

Ken noticed every little thing Dave did, as apparently the TA sat at the front of the class as well close to the teacher’s desk and facing the class. Ken set his jaw when he saw Dave subtly glance your way multiple times, and most definitely watched the one time Dave’s gaze focused just a *little * too long in your direction. Ken knew from personal experience was it looked like to fuck someone with your eyes.

Class wasn’t *that* long but felt like an eternity for Ken. The moment the professor dismissed everyone, he was by your side, picking up your book bag for you and holding you close to him by your waist.

“Hey baby. Did you like the lecture?” You asked, genuinely wanting to know since you had assumed he would have loved it, but were also attempting a distraction as you two were walking out of the room. You intentionally didn’t bid the professor or Dave goodbye, simply leaving the class like everyone else.

You cursed under your breath when Dave caught up with the two of you right as you were about to exit.

“Hey, man, I’m Dave.” He flashed a million-dollar smile and extended his hand at Ken. Thankfully Ken had become a little better at hiding his emotions due consistent socialization between your friends and working at the boba tea shop, but he could only keep his disdain for this man hidden so much.

Ken shook his hand but his blue eyes glanced at you, wanting to see your reaction to Dave standing so close.

“I have to get to my next class,” you said nonchalantly. “See ya next time.”

Dave nodded. “I look forward to it.”

You walked briskly out the door, knowing Ken would follow because he wasn’t about to release his grip on your waits, and the two of you exited the building into the day’s sunshine.

“I don’t like him,” Ken repeated.

“I know, baby. Listen,” you sat on a bench and Ken sat beside you, his leg pressing into yours. “I know this stresses you out, and that’s okay, but you can’t hold this over me.”

Ken’s eyes met yours, and you could tell he was trying so hard to maintain his anxious composure, to make sure you were happy with him.

You took his face in your hands. “I love you. I don’t care about Dave. I haven’t in a really long time. These flex term classes are short, but they’re intense. I have to be in every class and studying is going to take up a lot of my time, so I need you to understand nothing is going to happen between me and Dave.”

Ken nodded, but you could tell it was as if he felt like you had verbally slapped him in the face. You knew he needed more validation than you might be able to offer him for awhile, and despite how much that made you sad, you were also trying to set a boundary so the fact that you were attending this class wouldn’t be something that stressed *both* of you out every day.

“I don’t think that *he* is thinking that way,” Ken said, trying to hide the jerkiness in his voice.

“That’s not my problem to worry about. I won’t let him do anything to me.”

Ken seemed almost sheepish in his reply, as if knowing he shouldn’t say it but he couldn’t stop himself. “You promise?”

“More than anything.”

Ken’s shoulders relaxed a little, and he nodded. “Okay.”

You gave him a chaste kiss before taking your book bag from him. “I gotta get to my next class. I’ll see you at home, alright?”

He smiled and nodded as you walked away, and you felt irritated that he didn’t have work today. At least that probably would have helped distract and maybe even calm him.

Your phone rang right as you were about to enter an elevator.

“Hey, Ken.”

“Do you want anything from the store?”

“I’m good, thanks though.”

Ken’s chest grew tight again when he heard a now-familiar voice in the background of your phone.

“Hey, hold the door!” Dave called out.

“Don’t hold the door for him.” Ken had a lightning bolt of anxiety rip through him.

“Ken, it’s fine. I love you.”

“Don’t hang up, please.”

You had dropped your phone back into your book bag before hearing his last words, but unfortunately, your finger hadn’t tapped the End Call button hard enough, so the phone call remained on. The conversation was muffled, but not muffled enough to where Ken couldn’t make out every word.

“Sup.”

“I honesty don’t miss hearing you saying that,” you said lighting in a joking manner.

“Ahh!” Dave made a dramatic show of gripping his heart with his hand. “That hurt.”

“Knock it off, Dave.” Your voice remained light. He wished you had sneered instead.

“So how long you been with blondie? He legit gives off vibes that you captured him on the beach.”

“Is he a student here?”

“No, but we live together.”

“Ah, cool! I heard awhile back from Amber that you had moved off-campus.”

“Amber would be correct.”

“So, you two, uh, doing well?” Dave leaned into the elevator wall, shoulders hunching a little, trying to look relaxed.

“Very.”

“Cool, cool. Just asking.” There was a long silence until, “If you ever, like, need anything -“

“Thanks, Dave, I’ll let you know.” Ken knew you had smiled at him. He knew the sound of your voice when you did. Fuck, if only he hadn’t left campus and knew what building you were in.

Ken heard the sound of shuffling and he held his breath as he heard Dave’s next words.

“You look, like, really fucking good, y/n.”

“Dave -“

“You have just a little, uh, strand of hair -“

“I got it, thanks.”

“I could get it for you -“

“I’m good.”

“Fine,” Dave relented, and the elevator bell dinged, indicating you had reached your floor. Right before the doors opened, however, “You’re not planning on regulating that pretty pussy of yours to beach guy forever, right?”

For whatever reason, the phone call cut off then. Ken stood on the sidewalk, frozen.

He sat at home on the sofa that sat in the living room, facing the front door, willing you to walk in early despite knowing you never missed a class and that you were never home before 6:30 on Tuesdays.

He knew he shouldn’t but he had called you multiple times, every call going to voicemail. He knew you never answered during class, but fuck it, he had lost his will to care today. Sitting in the silence of the empty house only fueled his imagination.

The call cutting off because you had noticed it was still on, and Dave touching you in the elevator. You deciding to miss classes for the first time in your life to have him fuck you in his dorm room, doing whatever the hell Amber had subtly referred to. You laughing about him, for whatever reason, with Dave as the two of you lay in a naked, tangled heap.

The front door finally opened, Ken having lost track of time as he had stared at it, lost in his thoughts that had become more and more upsetting as the seconds ticked by. His attention was drawn back sharply as he heard the door close, and he realized he had been gripping both of his thighs tightly with his hands.

He must have looked as unhappy as he felt because your face immediately became concerned upon seeing him.

“Hey, Ken, are you okay?”

He was on you in a moment, rage tearing through him. “What did he do to you?”

You legitimately looked completely confused, having no idea he had heard the call, and also having zero guilt about anything having happening during the day.

“What are you talking about?”

“Dave. What. Did. He. Do. To. You.”

“What…how would he have done anything to me?”

“I heard you. And him. Your phone didn’t hang up.”

Ohhh. “If you heard it then you know nothing happened.”

“It hung up when he mentioned your hair.”

“He didn’t touch me.”

“Promise?”

“Goddammit, Ken, I don’t have to promise.”

“He tried, though. He wanted to touch you. He wants you to leave me.”

“I mean, yeah, that’s fair. That doesn’t mean- “

Ken picked you up roughly, wrapping your legs around his waist and holding your ass as he slammed your back into the door. “Mine.”

You whimpered as his teeth sank into your neck. You always internally battled on whether you should be firm with him and tell him to grow up or if you should encourage this behavior, and somehow the middle ground always won, at least for now.

“Ken, we’ve been over this,” you said, your own moan cutting you off as he sucked hard on your skin, bucking his hard clothed budge into into your panty covered core. You really needed to stop wearing short skirts so often.

“Mine,” he growled again, storming into the bedroom, throwing you onto the bed. He pulled his shirt over his head, his chest flexing and puffed out.

“I fucking know, Ken,” you threw back at him before your back arched and you cried out, Ken having pushed your legs open and brought his hand down to spank your pussy. You saw stars as he did it again and you writhed underneath him as he pressed his hands into your hips, holding you down.

“Ken,” you whimpered again as he snuck two fingers under your panties, rubbing them back and forth firmly.

“You’re already so wet,” he panted, eyes on fire. “Were you this wet in the elevator?”

You visibly rolled your eyes but shut them tightly when his hand came down on your core again. You gripped his forearms in your hands when he dipped two fingers into your opening with ease, and you moaned loudly as he pushed them roughly deeper into you, immediately curling them into your special spot.

“Are you thinking about him right now?” He seethed, and you shook your head, unable to verbally reply through your moans, your head swimming with how sudden all of these sensations were.

“You’re only thinking about me?” He persisted.

“Yes,” you managed to squeak, his fingers quickening their pace.

“You’ll only think about me?”

You cried out loudly when he leaned over to wrap his hand around your throat as his hips leaned against his own fingers buried inside you, thrusting them into his hand so he could easily finger-fuck you harder.

“I asked you a question.”

“Yes, Ken,” you choked out, your body already nearing shudders.

“You’ll prove it to me, then.”

Your legs began to shake a little, your walls clenching around his fingers. He could tell you were about to reach your peak.

“How long can you hold out on me? To prove you’ll only think about me because you’re so exhausted from begging for your release, staring in my eyes, knowing every single touch is coming only from me?” He pulled his fingers out of you then, and your eyes shot open, your body in shock from being suddenly ravaged to being denied its release.

“Oh, fuck, Ken.” Your head fell back into the mattress, already frustrated beyond belief. “Please, please -“

“Good girl. We’re off to a strong start.”

He flipped you over onto your stomach, pulling your legs to hang over the bed so you were bent over for him. His hand came up between your legs to spank you again and the sharp sensation on your clit had you instinctively close your legs, your back arching as his other hand down your lower back down.

“Keep them open for me,” Ken warned, a shudder running through you at his tone.

You slowly began to do as he said when he nudged his legs between yours, opening them for him and keeping them open by planting his feet firmly on the ground.

His hand snapped up to meet your clit again and you gripped the sheets tightly as it came back for a third time, your legs beginning to tremble.

Ken had his plan - exhaust you, give you the most amazing orgasms of your life, maybe you wouldn’t want to go to class tomorrow, even though me know you would go. So, make sure every time you moved even the slightest movement that you’d feel him - make you sore, but just the right amount to where you’d try not to squirm in public but maybe you’d get wet from remembering how good he could make you feel.

You felt his hand that was holding you down remove itself from your back and he kneeled between your shaking legs, pulling your panties aside. You cried out loudly, your body in awe, as he pressed his full tongue into your clit, the warmth traveling all through your core.

Oh, fuck, you didn’t know anything could feel like this. Your nerves being so violently stimulated beforehand Made you be about to feel absolutely everything as his lips wrapped around your bud and sucked gently. He moaned into you when he heard the high pitched noise you made, very pleased with himself, and he gently held your hips as his tongue ravaged you.

“Holy fuck…Yes…aahhh…yes, Ken…oh…thank you, Ken…”

You could have cried when he pulled back, kissing up your spine then flipping you onto your back again.

You weren’t used to actually being edged. You had only experienced it once with, of all people, Dave. It had been fun but also absolutely mentally and physically exhausted you, and right now you were insanely frustrated, especially after feeling whatever that was.

“You should just let me come,” You huffed, looking Ken right in the eye as he brought the ties out from the drawer, his muscles clenching.

“Mmmm, maybe later.” He ripped your clothes off except your panties before grabbing one of your arms, deciding to tie you up differently tonight. Instead of tying your wrists together, tied your single wrist to the far side of the headboard. He straddled you as he reached for your other one and began wrapping the tie around -

“By not giving me my orgasm, you’re only encouraging me to think of Dave.” If he wanted to play jealousy games, fine. You’d fuel them then.

Ken gave you a dangerous look, his eyes darkening, waiting in silence for you to explain.

“So tie me up, edge me, then. Have your fun.”

“You know I’m waiting for you to finish that thought.”

“Mmmhmmm.” You tried not to grin up at him.

“So,” he slammed your wrist onto the bed above your head, lowering his face to hover above yours, “fucking finish it.”

You sighed with intention. “It’s just that, nobody has ever edged me before. Except Dave.”

You don’t think you could have explained the energy that washed over Ken in that moment if you tried. But you had won. If he was going to keep struggling with jealousy towards you, then you would make it work in your favor instead of stressing you out…at least for now. Ken was already too far gone when you’d come through the door to calm, so, hey…seeing what he’d cooked up in his mind wouldn’t hurt anyone, right?

You felt your arm being jerked upward as it was securely fastened to the opposite side of the headboard, and you wanted to protest for the fun of it but you were actually tied up to where you couldn’t move your upper body, save for being able to lift your head.

“Looks like I have a little more work to do than I had originally thought,” Ken spat as he knotted the remaining ties around your ankles, also securing them to the foot of the bed so you were splayed out naked for him, unable to move.

“You better make this worth it,” You sighed again as if bored. “I’m supposed to be studying -“

You were cut off as you moaned loudly, Ken pulling the strip of your panties covering your heat to the side as his mouth clamped onto your clit, sucking hard. Ken’s mind was a rush of anger, of passion, of - goddammit, would this stupid fear of you leaving him actually ever leave him - and all he could see in his mind’s eye was Dave doing this to you, holding you hostage in your own bed, tasting your juices, feeling your perfect skin and muscles under his tongue, taking in your scent as you moaned and squealed and attempted to writhe despite your restraints.

He was so easily lost in you. He thought of untying you then, wanting to feel your hands in his hair, feeling the different tugs when he hit different areas of pleasure, holding your hips up to him in an almost bruising grip. But no, he had to remember his plans for you for now.

He felt dizzy as he licked thick stripes up and down, your vocal reactions becoming louder, and he lost track of time when he began to tongue fuck you, getting into a rhythm that was making you feel crazy as you got lost in the pleasure as well.

He pulled back only enough to speak, his lips still brushing against your folds. “Tell me how good I make you feel, y/n.” He dove back in immediately, desperate to hear your voice as he consumed you - it made him feel so warm and so hard, your breathy, often barely coherent words soothing his anxiety, making him get lost in you even more.

You didn’t reply, at least not with words. Your moaning continued for a moment then paused with another frustration huff from you when he pulled back again.

“Tell me how good I make you feel,” he commanded a little louder. Maybe you hadn’t heard him the first time.

You remained silent other than your breathing, which you were working to calm down.

“Tell me how good I make you feel,” he said for the third time, his voice betraying his anxiety when the last word ended on a note that sounded like a question.

He stood up when you kept quiet, leaning over you. “Y/n.”

You looked at him. “Yes, Ken?”

“Why won’t you say it?”

“Why won’t you stop being jealous over things that don’t matter?”

He hardened again then. “They matter to me.”

You stared up at him.

“You’re still thinking about Dave?”

“It’s honestly hard not to when you won’t stop talking about him, Ken.”

He growled. He couldn’t argue with that logic but he hated you pointing it out. He got off you and went back to the drawer and pulled out something you couldn’t see. He walked back to lean himself over you again, holding himself up with his forearm alongside your head.

“Fine, but I’m going to replace your memory of him denying your release with my own.”

You cried out loudly, your body shaking when you felt a strong sensation suddenly being shoved into your panties and pushed onto your clit. Ken held the vibrator on you, watching your reactions, loving how quickly you got lost in them, at how surprising overwhelmed you seem to become within the first few moments.

“You like this?” He breathed.

You couldn’t form words and answered with a string of noises instead, your head thrown back into the mattress as all of your limbs strained desperately against their bounds. Still leaning over you, Ken kissed your exposed throat, sucking ever so gently. He just wanted you to feel him around you.

He knew your orgasm was coming simply by the way in which your breathing was quickening and removed the toy from your panties, the buzzing noise filling your ears and mixing with the white noise swimming inside of them.

“Ken, please,” You started, your voice already sounding raw. He set the toy down on the bed beside you, not bothering to turn it off, so his hand could travel up your waist to your breasts as he kneaded one in his hand and began sucking on the other. Your body seemed to almost relax a little, thankful for the pleasure after having it taken away again.

“Remember when I said you’d have to beg me?” He mumbled around your hardening nipple, swirling his wet tongue around it.

You whined.

“That doesn’t sound like begging.”

“I shouldn’t have to beg for what’s rightfully mine,” you whimpered as his teeth sunk into your tender skin, pulling on the nipple ever so slightly.

Ohh. This was a new mood coming from you, but he loved it.

“Have it your way, then.” He watched you as he inserted the vibrator in your underwear again and you cried out, your entire body doing a delicious shudder, and he got up to straddle your waist. Your panties were snug enough to hold the vibrator against you so he could let go.

“You’re going to beg me, baby girl,” he said as he planted his hands above your head and slowly lowered his cock into your mouth. You moaned loudly, your arms and legs pulling against the restraints as best as they could as he slowly fucked himself into your mouth, watching the way your wet lips wrapped around him as you struggled with the pleasure the vibrator was giving you, tears beginning to form in your eyes.

Fuck, he loved you.

He felt himself grow impossibly harder as he watched his clock disappear into your mouth again and again, your loud moans and tiny screams from the vibrator vibrating themselves around his member, and he shuddered. Your eyes flicked up to meet his and he melted, his hand reaching down to wrap in your hair not to hold you still but just to touch you.

He knew you were close again when those high pitched noises started emanating from your throat, and he pulled himself out of your mouth and removed the vibrator from your panties.

You screamed in frustration.

“Why?” You wailed.

“Because I’m not finished with you yet.”

Ken tore the area off your panties apart that covered your opening with his hands and you jumped, surprised. He left the top part intact though, and you cursed loudly, knowing why.

When he sunk his fingers back into you, you wanted to do whatever he wanted just to make sure he kept them there. Maybe you could hide your orgasm approaching…

Your body jerked in the minor ways that it could due to your restraints and Ken watched you, memorizing every way you twitched and moaned.

“Look at me, baby girl,” he cooed, and you did as he asked. “Such a good girl for me.”

“Please, Ken, please let me come this time.” Your voice was a little hoarse again.

“You know how to make that happen.”

“I’m begging, please, please.”

“That’s hardly begging at all.” He slowed his fingers down just enough to where they were caressing inside you, and once again somehow you felt every little movement. Your body felt like it was singing at the immense pleasure washing through you, and your head became so overwhelmed with it that you became completely lost, eyes closed, mumbling and moaning softly as Ken watched you. He’d have to remember to do this to you again, you seemed in absolute bliss.

He had planned to edge you further again with this one but now struggled with the idea. He didn’t know you’d react this beautifully to this, and fuck, you were a perfect angel splayed out so willingly for him, and your body has already taken so much…

Ken fingered your through your orgasm, your body shocked with the fact that it was finally being allowed its climax, and you cried a little as the best orgasm of your life overtook every fiber of your being.

His name escaped your lips in a gorgeous, exhausted whisper during the last few moments of your pleasure, and Ken’s heart danced.

He pulled his fingers out of you softly, your body limp, and climbed on top of you. He kissed you deeply, the back of his knuckled grazing your cheek bone.

“Thank you, Ken,” your words were swallowed by his lips.

“We’re not done yet.” His tongue dipped into your mouth and languishingly explored.

“I’m so tired, Ken.” Your voice cracked as he pulled away just long enough for you to catch a breath before consuming your lips again.

“Good. That’s how I want you to feel.”

“You went sex toy shopping?” Your giggle faltered as soon as it began, head resting itself on Ken’s as his mouth found your neck.

“Mmmhmmm. Which reminds me…”

“Oh, please, please, I can’t-“ You couldn’t form words again after the first few seconds of the vibrator being placed inside your panties again.

“Say my name.” You felt Ken’s hands reach between the two of you to unzip his pants.

“Ken,” you mewled.

“Again, y/n.”

“Ken,” your voice sounded on the edge of tears again.

“One more time.”

You screamed his name as he bottomed out into you with a single thrust, him holding his hips fully against yours without moving for a moment, groaning into your shoulder at how amazing you felt already clenching and spasming around his cock so so damn tightly from the sensations of the vibrator.

“Ohhhh, y/n.” He purred into your neck, remaining still within you, feeling as if you could push him over the edge just like this.

“Need…to…breathe…”

He kissed away a single tear as it rolled down your face. He pulled out the vibrator again, keeping his cock deep inside you.

You thanked him, gasping for air. “It’s…. it’s so much.”

“Mmmhmmm.” He nuzzled his nose into your hair.

How far could he push it? What was your cutoff point?

He pulled himself out of you then slowly thrust back in again, a strangled noise escaping your throat. He did it again, and again, maintaining this slower pace.

“You’re doing so well, y/n. My good girl takes me so well.”

Your lower lip trembled and he took it between his lips, sucking gently as his hips slowly picked up their pace. You made little kitten noises with every thrust, Ken’s head swimming with them.

“Need….it’s…too…”

Your mouth opened into a silent scream when you felt the vibrator placed back onto your clit, Ken’s hips still bucking into you.

“You’re going to be fine. Just a little bit longer,” He soothed. He reached up to untie one of your restraints, your arm falling onto the bed, and he intertwined his fingers with your own. He knew you were definitely nearing what you could take because your grip was almost non-existent, just barely closing around his hand.

“I’ve got you,” he breathed into your ear. “I’ll give you what you want if you-“

“Please.” Your blissed out, weary voice was barely a whisper.

“Good girl.”

“Please, please let me come, Ken.”

You climaxed just then, Ken forcing himself to not let his own happen as you tightened so effortlessly around him, calling out his name over and over.

You felt barely coherent as Ken untied you, your eyes closed, feeling your limbs one by one being returned to you. The vibrator was removed and turned off and Ken took off the remainder of the fabric that had once been your underwear.

You felt Ken wrap his arms around you gently, still on top of you, hips still nestled between your legs.

He kissed you deeply as he sunk his cock into you once more, your body shivering with cold sweat.

“Just one more time, y/n.”

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[dronarryfest]

What an incredible first week of dronarry! Here is the roundup of all the amazing works we’ve shared so far. We’re giving you the Sunday off to catch up if you haven't yet! And we want to send a huge THANK YOU to our wonderful readers for all the comments and kudos you’ve been sending. Keep them coming and stay tuned for week two!

[FIC] Some Nights || E || 23k || by @thecouchsofa

Ron fucks up his Silencing Charms in the dorms one night. Then Malfoy does. The rest, as they say, is history. 

💭 Came for the filth stayed for the feels. And the filth. Scorching hot, funny as fuck, got me curling my toes so hard my whole leg cramped. - emsuemsu

💭 This is so incredibly perfect, like the smut is perfect but Harry’s cluelessness and excitement is amazing and Ron just rolling with the punches…needless to say I’ve already read it more than once - marebear723

[FIC] Hear Me Out || E || 5k || by @rainstormradish

“I know this is all just a big joke to you,” whispered Draco, his lips inches from Ron’s ear, his breath on his neck, his hips pressed against him, Merlin, “but I need you to fucking commit to the bit here, Ron.”

💭 I am burning UP. i love how distinct each of their characters are. And the tension???? God, they’re all so sexy. - lostinyourcostellation

💭 Scorching hot! Absolutely love this premise & the way you carried it out here felt sooo good. Wonderfully done :) - thestarryknight

[ART] Signing The Forever Bond || G || by @digthewriter

No fanfare adorned their sacred moment, no gaze of a world eager to witness, for they sought not the spotlight's glow but rather the quiet dance of shared hearts. And some paperwork.

💭 I adore long hair Dronarry! What beautiful patterns and color, and I love their comfortable closeness and contentment. adore long hair Dronarry! What beautiful patterns and color, and I love their comfortable closeness and contentment. -schmem_14

💭  This is so gorgeous! I'm obsessed with ALL the details. Bearded Draco! There isn't enough Bearded!Draco content, honestly. - sleepstxtic

[FIC] Permanent || M || 14k || by @citrusses

"Harry's always been fixated on older men. Have you ever noticed that, Ron?” Granger asks. “Have I ever noticed—Hermione, we’ve lived with the bloke for years! He doesn’t bring them home much, but I’m not blind. I see who he’s shagging.” “And David, an older man, tells Harry ‘Saviour Complex’ Potter he needs him to save the world?” “He didn’t stand a chance,” Ron agrees. “Fascinating,” Draco says, in a strangled voice.

💭 I love this so much. I can't wait to reread it. What a gorgeous fucking fic with beautiful, agonising detail and introspection. - TheGoblinMatriarch

💭 Omg I don’t want to be that person BUT I COULD READ 300K OF THIS it was brilliant! - Moonflower_Rose

[FIC] These Foolish Little Games || E || 8.5k || by @schmem14

Thanks to a falling out between Harry and Ron, Draco can finally get together with Harry, have the most spectacular and inappropriate office sex, and enjoy Weasley-free weekends out. Life is perfect. So why does he have the nagging feeling he should get the estranged best friends to patch things up?

💭 Incredibly steamy, love the setup of a Ron/Harry fight and Draco’s scheming ❤️❤️❤️❤️ - citrusses

💭 yesssss - i am always here for the under the desk shenanigans. Lol at how easily they convinced Ron. There was no hope for him 😂 - MaesterChill

[FIC] Edging into His Heart || E || 5k || by @chelsiewhitlock & diplobeanz

Stuck on a long stakeout, Draco has reached the end of his patience with Ron Weasley's rule. In an effort to make the best of the situation, he decides to push the boundaries and past the edge of propriety. Shenanigans ensue.

💭  THIS is the Draco Ron dynamic I’m here for 😍 this story was fucking hot, and that tantric spell thingy oh, my… 🥵 - schmem_14

💭 wowww the dynamics you have going on here!!! 100/10 will be thinking about forever.  - fluxweed

[FIC] People Are Boring || E || 14.3k || by @starquestingfordrarry

“Alright, what’s your terrible news?” Draco braces himself on Harry’s desk. “Weasley’s hot.” “You’ll have to be more specific, there are a lot of hot Weasleys.” Draco makes a strangled, groaning sound in his throat. “The Weasley. Weasel. Weasel-by. Your Weasley.” Harry’s heart jumps to his throat, and his stomach drops to his shoes. “Ron’s back?”

💭 THAT.WAS. DMCJSKDKCJDH. I was excited, my heart ached at one point, I cried, then screeched, this really did have it all 🔥 - Jaqie

💭 So softly angsty then so tender then so sexy. This dynamic just works beautifully, and your Ron is 🔥🔥🔥 - gr8k8

[cod-fishing]

A bit ago I read a fic where Soap is the God of Pain and Suffering and when ghost dies (in the coffin) he is given to Soap both because of the way Roba kills him and because he has suffered so much throughout his life. The fic was relatively short but it really really stuck out to me.

Because what a fascinating, weird concept, and how fucking perfect for these characters. Soap tells ghost that he will never feel pain ever again, that soap will protect him always and forever, that he is his. And I just want so much more, I want to watch Ghost grow into his life as a God’s kept pet. I want ghost slowly but surely accepting soap and this weird life, becoming used to it, becoming horribly spoiled off of it. Becoming bold and unapologetic, because his lover is the God of Pain for fucks sake, and no one will ever touch him again.

And ghost having the time to heal, guided by soap. The God of Pain, slowly leading and supporting his lover towards self acceptance, self love, towards understanding both that his horrible painful life happened, but also that it was not his fault. It would just be so good. I love stories where ghost actually gets the chance to heal.

[anon-sect]

Story requested by @makemeyourslave1

I had been chatting with one of my followers, @makemeyourslave1, and he had many questions about how I got my inspiration for my stories. He actually wanted to meet in person. I agree to it. I set up the arrangement and where we would meet. The guy seemed super excited.

Four days later, we met at a restaurant. We had a good conversation and meal. I told him how I basically look at a picture and let my imagination play with any idea that comes up. Then I just write and let the story unfold as I write. Lee found it fascinating. He wanted to know even more and see the process in action. I agreed once more, but on one condition. He had to come home with me to see the action. He was so desperate, he actually got in my car and came home with me.

Once in my home, I gave him a drink and told him to relax. After a few minutes, Lee felt even more at ease. I pulled out my secondary phone that I used to write my stories. I told him I was thinking about a new pair of everyday shoes to wear. I snapped a picture with my phone. Then, I told him you would do perfectly. The other followers might like seeing my new everyday wear shoes.

Suddenly, he felt his body shrinking. He tried to move but couldn't. He tried to scream for help, but no sound came out. He shrunk rapidly. His skin started turning black and cloth like. He realized he was trapped and was going to be a story I would post. This was not the ideal situation he wanted to be in. He finally formed the pair of sneakers you see above. A perfect size 11 for my feet. He wanted to know just how deeply my stories formed and now he is one of my posted stories.

Just to let you know, I wear him nearly every day. Sometimes I wear him to work. I sniff him about a week later, and the odor from him was just perfect. I honestly don't know how he feels about his new life as my shoes, but that is his new purpose. I made sure that his face served as my insoles. They are so super soft and comfortable, I got to tell you. Turning one of my followers into my shoes was a great idea. I definitely kept him this way for a very long time.

If any other followers want to join in, just let me know. I would gladly add you to my collection of objects I own. Just know you might be stuck forever, though. Honestly, that won't be my problem to deal with.

I really do love how this follower feels on my feet.

[patheticpaprika]

Goncharov: Fandom's Struggle Between Fanon vs. Canon and How That's Created A Mythos Rivaling The Greeks

A tag ramble to this post that got away from me and became too long to feel okay putting in the tags lol. It can be easily read as a stand alone though.

It's absolutely FASCINATING to me being able to both watch and participate in the Goncharov (?)fandom(?). It's taking everything that fandom culture is and letting it run free without any barriers to stop it.

Because frankly, I can't think of anything (to my knowledge) quite like it in recent history to reach such a scale. Both the ability to write stories down and the rise of copyright have had a significant impact on the way stories are told. We went from a storytelling culture that slowly evolved each story told by the person telling it, to one that is very close-handed to the narratives created.

And yes, to some extent, this twisting and evolving still happens in fandoms to the point that fanon and canon can become so separated it feels jarring. But that's just it isn't it? There always remains the canon. That will always be the true story. Fanfiction will forever be fanfiction, no matter how much we want it to be "real." You can whittle away at the narrative to shape it into something more appealing, but it will always be stuck as a block of wood.

Yet, the very fact that fanon exists proves that we never lost that want to change stories and make them a little bit our own. All that we lost was the medium to do so. Evolve something too far, and it won't be the same, will it? We're stuck in the confines of "canon."

I have seen fanfiction of fanfiction before, but it tends to quite quickly pitter out without its own foundation to stand upon. More can be added to the universe, but what's there does not change. It does not evolve the way a story passed down orally does; in a story spoken, the canon is forced to slowly change by the memory and style of the speaker. A classic game of telephone.

Goncharov however? There is no original story; there is no true canon. Not only is the story evolving freely from storyteller to storyteller, but the only reason there is even a coherent story in the first place is that there are multiple storytellers weaving the tale at once yet also expecting you to fill in the gaps.

It's like we're all playing that one writing game where each person writes a sentence back and forth to create a story. Yet, instead of you and one friend, we're playing it on this gargantuan sitewide scale that can't possibly all be connected into a singular coherent narrative. But you're not supposed to be able to. Each person can choose what they want to know it as. It's like some big giant exploratory choose-your-own-adventure book. The framework is there, but it's going in 50 different directions and you can always add another one in just for fun. You discover the story as you read, but only the bits you like get added on.

It's fucking incredible.

We all see each piece of media through our own personal lenses but never like this?? Not to this extent. We're all collectively joining together to obsess over the little ideas in our heads we got from each other's prompts and are excitedly spewing them regardless of how contradictory they are. We do something similar brainstorming with others but not with 12k messages in a single day.

Would this have even been possible before the rise of social media? Not to mention the strong sense of community Tumblr has that is so rare to see with such a large amount of people. There's more people than you could ever know on this site but we all act like some deranged extended family. Yes, people can work together but so rarely do people that vary so greatly in personality and life experiences, get together in such larger numbers to do a little silly goofy CREATE AN ENTIRE STORY THAT DOESN'T EXIST.

We pull shenanigans like this all the time. But this time it's not like eeby deeby or even the mishapocolyse; this time we're seeing the power of an entire community working together to create not only layers and layers of memes but layers of memes shaping an entire mythos. It's like we're the Greeks thinking up stories of our gods but instead it's a homoerotic mafia movie from 1973 written by Matteo JWHJ 0715 and Martin Scorsese that all started with a picture of a shoe.

We have stumbled across something fascinating and new. This may not be the first mafia movie that's been thought up and played around with but this is absolutely the first to be created by thousands of people working together but also towards their own individual goal/story. We're seeing the power that created mythology being wielded by fandom culture, and it's letting it evolve like no other story has.

It's free from the confines of prescribed canon, but there is so much being created that can be canon if you want it to be. This isn't changing one by one like some spoken tale towards exponential growth either. This has been created like one spectacular big bang. We had a funny post of a boot, and then we had a poster and that was enough to make Tumblr go collectively insane. (Not that we weren't already.) I want to (politely) shake all of you by the shoulders till everyone realizes how crazy this all is.

This story is ours, all of ours. Goncharov (1973) is held together by the power of belief and love for it. We have fragments of canon, yes, but it only exists because we want it to. And God-damn it, I hope we do it again. Together we can create things that we'd never thought could exist (and in this case still doesn't).

-We- are strong. Please never forget that.

As it now 6am and I have not slept, I will leave you with a quote; Goncharov's final solemn plea as he slowly bled to death, for I feel it's in an odd way rather fitting.

"What is the dust but a remnant of what we once were, all around us coated with it.

But we brush it away in search of something else. Not everything that mattered once matters now.

Yet you seem to think that's the only way, just keep dusting it.

You never stop to think that some things we search for might not be worth keeping.

Nothing has meaning unless we continue to think it does.

So please... I beg of you, can't we just move on and let this sickening contempt between us dissolve into dust?"

[halfagone]

Hi, Halfa!

What are your thoughts on the Corpse AU? And how would Danny's friends or the Batfam, if he was adopted, react to that?

Hi, Anony!! :D

Corpse AUs are so fascinating to me; I don't know if I'd ever be able to write one but I love to read them. @five-rivers' (Marsalias) Exhumed series is one of my favorites. The quiet horror that can so easily grow into a huge, messy reveal itches a very niche part of my brain.

WARNING: FROM THIS POINT FORWARD WE WILL BE DISCUSSING MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH (Danny's), CORPSES, AND BODY HORROR FREQUENTLY. IF THIS BOTHERS YOU, PLEASE KEEP SCROLLING.

Marsalias' version of the Corpse AU has it where Danny only shed one body, the one he lost in the portal. But I've seen other versions where, with every transformation, he sheds a body and then grows another when he transforms back. Which means that Danny frequently needs to hide his corpses in the woods or around town.

Obviously that shoots up the chance of an identity reveal, which- if that's not the point of your fic- can make things complicated. If you included Wes into this world as well that further antagonizes his character because that implies he's essentially watched Danny die and he still thinks it's a good idea to prove Danny is Phantom??? But that's a whole other story.

I'll likely never do a full-blown Corpse AU but I will admit that there is some canon proof that it's a possible thing. In "Splitting Images" we see Sidney Poindexter taking over Danny's body; it's played off as overshadowing but since Danny loses control of his body that directly implies that he and his body are not attached, so to speak.

I enjoy the Astral Projection concept that kinda goes along with that idea, but that's a story for another day.

At the same time, my favorite part of this AU is how it showcases Danny's regenerative abilities. I've made a random mention of it in my fic- Gold, Mine- that Danny can grow himself another 'meat suit'. Or, so long as he has his core, he can recreate flesh and bone. It also means that Danny's halfa status isn't at all dependent on having a living body... because he'll just make himself another one. That does mean that Danny will likely never 'completely die' and come back as a full-ghost. He is quite literally stuck as a halfa forever.

A Corpse AU would probably make the Accident a thousand times more traumatic for Tucker and Sam because they practically relive Danny's death every time he transforms. They have physical evidence of his death and they probably are busy hiding his body while he goes off to fight the ghost of the week. If this is a scenario where he can go back into his body afterwards, then that's probably much easier on their sanity. But if this is a situation where he doesn't... this is why things go badly very fast lol

As for the Batfam... I think it would fuck a good number of them up considering how many members they've lost and gotten back. Even just for Jason they probably have this reoccurring fear that he's going to go one day and not come back and be gone for good and that does things to a person. And then here you have Danny who essentially sheds a body and then possessing it when his soul is done astral projecting, and sometimes you have to wonder... "what happens if he can't come back this time?"

I can see many people begging Danny not to transform into Phantom. Not because his ghostly side scares them but they don't want to lose him. But even as a ghost they won't really lose him, right?

...Right?

Trauma Central, folks.

[thepaperpanda]

A Cultural Fusion || Neteyam x fem!Omaticaya reader

Masterlist

Summary: Neteyam instructs you on the customs and significance of Valentine's Day, a special day celebrated by humans

Warnings: none

Word count: 1690

Author: Rouge

A/N: prior to reading, it’s important to know that: the reader is female Omaticaya ✤ you'll find a glossary underneath the fic ✤ today’s prompt: learning about Valentine’s Day

Neteyam had always been fascinated by the ways of the humans. He had spent many evenings listening to his father recounting stories about the strange and exotic customs of the outsiders. But one particular story had always stuck with him - a tale about a special day called Valentine's Day.

As he walked through the lush forest, Neteyam spotted you sitting alone by the river, lost in your thoughts. He approached you with a gentle smile, curious to know what was on your mind.

You looked up at him and returned the smile, happy to have some company.

“Oel ngati kameie, Y/N," Neteyam greeted you. "Are you okay? You seem a little troubled."

You shrugged, feeling a little embarrassed. "I'm fine. I'm just thinking about something."

"Would you like to talk about it?" Neteyam asked kindly, taking a look around, smiling as he spotted a few kenten sitting in the nearby bushes.

You hesitated for a moment before nodding. "It's just that tomorrow is Valentine's Day, Lo’ak told me about that, and I don't really know what it means. I’ve never heard about this before. And your brother said it has something to do with love and feelings, but I don’t know if I can believe him."

Neteyam's eyes lit up with recognition. "Ah, I know about this day. My father told me about it. It's a day when humans show their love and affection for one another."

You looked at him curiously. "How do they do that when they do not have anything similar to tsaheylu?"

Neteyam paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "Well, they exchange gifts, like flowers or sweets, to show that they care about each other. And they spend time together, doing things they enjoy."

You listened intently, fascinated by the concept of expressing love through such simple gestures. "But why is it called Valentine's Day?" You asked.

Neteyam shrugged. "I'm not sure. My father didn't tell me that part. But I think it's because there was a human saint named Valentine who used to help people express their love. Humans have a lot of saints, after all."

"Saints? What are those?" You asked, puzzled.

"They are people who are believed to have lived holy lives and are now in heaven. Humans pray to them for help and guidance," Neteyam explained, taking a seat by your side, slipping his feet into the water.

You looked at him, surprised. "Really? Humans have so many beliefs and traditions. I can't keep up with all of them."

Neteyam chuckled. "I know it can be overwhelming. But I find it fascinating to learn about all these different customs and beliefs. It helps me understand humans better. My dad was one of them, after all."

You nodded, but you still didn't quite understand why humans would pray to someone who was no longer alive. Neteyam could see the confusion on your face.

"It's hard to explain, Y/N. But I think it gives humans comfort to know that there are people in the heavens watching over them," he said.

You looked at him curiously. "Heaven? What's that?"

"It's a place where humans believe they can be happy forever, with no pain or sadness," Neteyam explained, playing with a tuft of grass.

You nodded, trying to understand this concept. "So it's like a place of eternal peace?"

"Exactly," Neteyam nodded with a smile. "It's like becoming one with Eywa after death. Humans believe that they can reunite with their loved ones who have passed away and be with them forever in heaven."

You felt a sense of understanding dawn on you. "I see. It's like the ultimate reunion."

"Yes. It's a way for humans to find comfort in the face of death, to believe that they can be together with their loved ones again someday."

You smiled, feeling grateful for Neteyam's insights. It was always interesting to learn about the beliefs and customs of humans, even if they were different from your own and usually meant danger. And in some ways, the concept of heaven was similar to your own belief in the afterlife, of becoming one with Eywa and the spirits of your ancestors. It was a reminder that, despite all our differences, there were still common threads that bound everyone all together. You thought about this for a moment, trying to wrap your head around the concept. "I see. I guess it's like how we believe in the spirits of our ancestors who guide us."

Neteyam smiled. "Exactly! It's different, but it's also similar in a way."

You smiled back at him, feeling grateful for his insights into the human world. It was always interesting to learn about their many beliefs and traditions, even if you didn't always understand them.

You nodded, feeling grateful for Neteyam's explanation. "Thanks for telling me about it. It sounds like a nice tradition, that Valentine's Day. But it’s a little strange that humans have one particular day where they are affectionate with their loved ones."

Neteyam had been thinking about Valentine's Day for a while, and he decided to make a small gift for you. He spent many hours working on it, putting all his love and care into each stitch and bead. "Y/N, I made this for you. It's not much, but I wanted to give you something special for Valentine's Day, even if it would take place only tomorrow," Neteyam whispered, reaching for the little bag hung over his shoulder. He pulled out a beautiful bracelet made of woven leaves and colorful beads. It was delicate and intricate, and you could see the time and care that Neteyam had put into making it.

“Neteyam,” you whispered, looking up at him, accepting the gift. “Ma Eywa! It’s beautiful.”

Neteyam smiled, happy to see you enjoying the gift. "I'm glad you like it. I wanted to bring something from human tradition, because that's what father does for mom, and I thought a handcrafted gift would be a good choice."

You nodded, feeling grateful for Neteyam's effort and his understanding of human customs. It was fascinating to learn all that stuff about sky people.

"Thank you, Neteyam. This is a wonderful gift, and I'll cherish it always," you said, putting the bracelet on your wrist and admiring its beauty. “But… I don’t have anything for you, and after what you said I understand that Valentine’s Day is about exchanging gifts.”

Neteyam's smile widened, pleased to have made you happy. It was a small gesture, but it meant a lot to both of you, a symbol of the growing bond as Neteyam had his eye on you for a long while. "There's something you can do for me," Neteyam suggested.

Your head tilted to the side, and you asked, "What's that?"

In a bold voice, he asked, "Kiss me." Neteyam gazed into your eyes, feeling his heart racing with anticipation. He took a deep breath and reached out to gently take your hand in his. Neteyam leaned in closer to her, feeling a surge of courage. "There's something that draws me to you. I feel a connection with you that I can't explain." He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts, and then he leaned in even closer until your faces were just inches apart. 

Your heart skipped a beat as you looked into Neteyam's eyes. You saw the sincerity and vulnerability in his expression, and you felt your own heart begin to race in response. Without a word, you leaned in and met Neteyam's lips with yours, feeling a jolt of electricity pass between them.

For a moment, the world around you fell away as you shared your first kiss. It was a gentle and tender moment, filled with the promise of what could be. As you pulled away, Neteyam looked at you and smiled, feeling a sense of hope and joy that he had never felt before. He looked at you, his eyes wide with awe and wonder. It was as if a new world had opened up to him, and he was seeing everything in a different light. He couldn't believe how soft your lips were, how your touch had sent shivers down his spine, and how his heart was beating so fast in his chest. It was like nothing he had ever felt before, and he knew that he was completely and utterly smitten. For a moment, he was lost in his thoughts, trying to process the overwhelming feeling that had taken over him. As he looked at you, he saw the way your eyes sparkled in the light, the way your smile made his heart flutter, and he knew that he was in trouble. He had never felt this way before, and he knew that he wanted to explore this new and exciting world of emotions that you had introduced him to. Neteyam couldn't wait to see what the future held for the two of you, and he knew that he was ready to take on any challenge as long as he had you by his side.

In that moment, you knew that everything had changed. You felt an intense connection with Neteyam, and you were completely enamored with him. It was a kiss that you would never forget, and you couldn't wait to see where this newfound attraction would take you. “Neteyam,” you whispered softly, trying to find proper words to describe your feelings.

“Shhh,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his strong chest. “I’m also lost for words.”

You couldn't help but nuzzle your face into Neteyam's chest, basking in the warmth and comfort that emanated from him. It felt like you were melting into him, and the feeling that rose within your chest was indescribable. As you breathed in his scent, you felt a sense of calm wash over you. It was like you were exactly where you were meant to be, and everything else in the world just fell away. You closed your eyes, savoring the moment, and letting yourself be completely enveloped by the feeling of being in Neteyam's arms. It was a moment you knew you would treasure forever.

Glossary:

kenten - fan lizard

tsaheylu - bond

oel ngati kameie - I see you

[ocean-eyed-lovers]

No but I have to ramble about this because this is making me go fucking insane.

"Look for me in hell. I'll be waiting."

"Yes, we'll be together for all time."

I haven't been in the snk fandom for years and just a few weeks ago I stumbled upon this, and goddammit before I knew the brainrot was back stronger than ever (Eremin brainrot, not snk brainrot).

Buckle up because this is going to be a long ass post.

At first I was kinda pissed because it literally felt like queerbaiting. I'm sorry but there's no way in hell (no pun intended) that you would say that to a friend. I've seen Turkish Dramas with less corny(affectionate) dialogue than this fucking shit right here. If Armin or Eren were a girl, this would have been considered romantic without a shred of doubt. Talking about being together forever in hell ? Not simply in the afterlife, in hell !?

Nah, bro. Nah.

You know what this reminds me of? My favorite canto from the Dante's Inferno. The one that tells the tale of Paolo and Francesca.

Summarizing the story shortly, Francesca da Rimini was a young girl who was forced to marry a man much older than her. Her husband had a younger brother of hre same age, Paolo, and the two fell in love. When Francesca's husband found out about their affair, he killed both of them.

Both couples committed the sin to follow their own selfish desires, although Paolo and Francesca's sin is a lot more understandable and wouldn't even be considered a sin by today's standards(they shouldn't have been in hell in the first place fuck you Dante)

Armin and Eren committed the ultimate sin, and will be paying for it in hell for eternity. Likewise, Paolo and Francesca committed the sin of adultery (although a lot less horrible sin) and are bound to spend eternity in hell together.

This canto of Dante's Inferno had me always fascinated for a reason. I've always wondered... is it really hell if you're with the person you love? When I was 13, the way my Sunday school teacher taught us about hell is something I'll remember until the end of my life. She explained hell like this; imagine you're here in this classroom, while in the other classroom there's a party. But you can't go because you'll be stuck here for eternity: that's what hell is, not being able to see God.

I found it funny at the time, because being the antisocial introvert I was, I would have much preferred staying in the empty classroom rather than attending a party in the other classroom. I was also in my atheist phase so I didn't care much about seeing God, whether he existed or not.

If hell really is like this, would two lovers being together really be considered torture? Wouldn't it be more torturous for them to be eternally separated instead?

So supposing hell is the state of missing what you long for the most, wouldn't Eren and Armin's punishment be eternal separation from one another?

[sitp-recs]

HP Rec Fest, Day 28

I’ve been reccing underrated fics since this blog was created and so I thought “there’s no easier @hprecfest prompt than this one” lol famous last words, this post took me ages to prepare 😂 I was initially overwhelmed by the amount of fics that came to mind, and going through my bookmarks and old recs only made it worse. How was I supposed to shortlist?? In the end I gave up and decided to rec 2 Drarry fics + 2 rare pairs. I could have included so many more but I really didn’t want this to become a tl;dr post and these rec blurbs are already going out of control, so here we go!

Day 28) an under-rated fic:

Drarry

In Dreams by @moonflower-rose (E, 38k)

Harry wasn't expecting to ever see Draco Malfoy again. He also wasn't expecting to walk into a political conspiracy that morning either, but apparently that's exactly what the day has in store for him.

I’ve screamed quite a few times about this fic (see my rec here) and every time I do it’s in the hopes that more folks will stop whatever they’re doing and go feast on this. not only a delicious and intriguing case fic with Rosie’s trademark epic dialogue and superb sense of humour, this also wins the award of best fic opening I have ever read. the way I gasped at chapter one and am forever haunted by its utterly devastating ending oh my god!!! my heart belongs to this gritty Harry, and the slow burn is masterfully crafted within the urgency of their teamwork to solve the mystery combining comfort, grief and hope in a thrilling, poignant and perfectly paced adventure. plus, the emotional payoff is chef’s kiss, honestly I cannot recommend this enough!

Survival of the Species by @romaine2424 (E, 47k)

Draco approaches Harry on the 9 ¾ platform, after their sons have boarded the Hogwarts Express, and invites him over for tea. The discussion they have leads them on an adventure that neither could have expected. There be dragons! HPDH compliant but before any other canon info had been released.

considering this masterpiece was published back in 2007 I think I’m allowed to say this is definitely a formative story when it comes to the creature genre, more specifically Veela fic. I first read this a couple years ago and my jaw legit dropped at the amount of world-building and carefully researched lore that went into this. so detailed and intricate and different from everything I’ve seen before or since, I was truly fascinated and couldn’t stop reading. kudos to the amazing slow burn covering years of their struggles stuck together in a dragon cave and having to rely on each other to survive. I loved seeing the hardships and how they genuinely came to care for each other, definitely one of the most moving and convincing Veela love stories I’ve read in the fandom.

Rare pair

With a Look by earlybloomingparentheses (Ginny + Deamus, E, 5k)

Now, twenty years old and done with boys and looking forward very much to putting her hand down some lucky girl’s shirt later this evening, Ginny looks at Dean Thomas’s gold-painted fingernails and feels heat pool between her legs.

I think about this fic every now and then - such a sensitive, thought-provoking and beautiful homage to the 🏳️‍🌈 community. the visceral and contemplative tone takes it beyond your regular PWP, and I’ve rarely seen gender and queerness explored quite like this. seeing Ginny figuring out and owning her identify is mesmerizing. her voice is powerful, sexy, earnest and articulates so many complex and layered feelings - I was particularly moved by the inner turmoil of not looking “queer enough”. I’m sure this fic will be eye-opening and comforting to so many people out there, and that’s why I never cease to rec it. an intimate character study, a sinfully hot and self-indulgent threesome but above anything, a poignant love letter to the queer community.

Passion, Patents, and Pen Pals at the Ministry by @violetclarity and @yrfrndfrnkly, art by @anaxandria-writes and @veelawings (Hermione/Pansy, T, 32k)

After an extremely ill-timed lovers'-tiff-turned-food-fight at the Ministry leaves her less one boyfriend and suspended without pay for six months, Hermione pleads for some position–anything–to fill her days until her suspension is up. The good news is, her temporary position in the Magical Games & Sports's Ludicrous Patents office is just down the corridor from Harry's office in General Inquiries. The bad news is Harry's officemate is Pansy Parkinson, the Ministry's operations are shockingly outdated, and every altercation between Hermione and Pansy winds up a headline in MoM's internal rogue gossip zine, Hot Goss.

rivals to secret pen pals to lovers yes please?? this hilarious Pansmione is a ship triumph and yet criminally underrated. I had a blast getting into the world of Ministry gossip & politics, and immediately fell in love with all the characters, l especially with this lovely meddling Harry. it’s SO MUCH FUN to watch poor him (and Blaise omg what a duo) in the middle of a ladies’ tug of war. I’m impressed by the amount of world-building especially around their workplace, not to mention all the side interactions and the fun, organic slow burn. I love this take on identity porn with tons of banter and Pansy and Mione connecting through their shared worldview and feminist principles, such a power couple ✊🏼 the mix of semi-epistolary, witty dialogue, dorky meddling friends and mild angst make for peak entertaining, I laughed non-stop and cheered so bad for them. femslash ftw!!!

[lilcatdraws]

Crack A Smile and Cut Your Mouth

Ledger!Joker Origin Story

Chapter Two - Feels Better In My Head

Warnings: Child abuse, domestic violence, alcoholism

Chapter Summary: Jack hates school and his father. Life sucks and nowhere feels truly safe. He desperately wants a way out...

Author’s Note: I finally got this done! It took me forever. I kept getting stuck towards the middle part. Also, I felt like the last chapter was way too short so this one is a little longer. Anyway I hope you enjoy! <3

Do you guys want a taglist for this series? I'd be happy to add you.

Jack woke up the next morning to the smell of bacon frying. His mother always got up early to cook breakfast. That was his alarm clock.

He yawned and crawled out of bed to get dressed. He kept on the same black t-shirt and pulled on a pair of khaki green cargo pants. He glanced over at his backpack tossed carelessly on the floor next to his nightstand and groaned. He knew he should probably go to school today. He’d already missed so much this year and his mother would pester him about it if he didn’t.

Jack picked up the backpack and stuffed its contents that fell out back in. He grabbed his sketchbook and his Polaroid camera from his dresser and packed them as well. There was no telling when inspiration would strike. He zipped the bag shut and slung it over his shoulder.

Cautiously, Jack walked from his room into the kitchen just in case Scott was still home. Jacqueline noticed him out of the corner of her eye. 

“It’s okay. He’s at work.”

Jack relaxed and sat down at the table. It was a sad fact that he felt the most at ease when his father wasn’t home. Jacqueline finished off the bacon and brought it over. Jack snagged a few pieces as she turned to the refrigerator to get something to drink. She returned to the table with a carton of orange juice and sat down next to her son.

“Please go to school today, Jack.” Jacqueline said as she poured him some orange juice.

“I will. But I have to leave early because Mike needs me in the shop today.” Jack told her as he gulped down the juice. 

Jacqueline sighed and swept her frizzy blonde curls out of her face. “Okay. At least you’re getting some education today. I just wish you would apply yourself more.”

“I don’t need school, mama. It’s dumb. I’m never gonna use any of it in the real world.”

“It never hurt anybody to be educated,” she kissed his forehead, “Now get going or you’re gonna be late. I love you.”

“Love you too.” Jack replied through a mouthful of bacon as he grabbed his stuff and went out the door.

He climbed into his black pickup truck parked under the carport and started off to school. He mentally prepared himself as he drove. It had been three days since he last went. He was really enjoying the small break but his mom wanted him to go and he didn’t want to disappoint her.

Jack made it to the school and walked in, keeping his head down and avoiding people. He didn’t have any friends. There were a few acquaintances sure, but no one he really hung around or talked to regularly. He was a loner. On days he did attend the whole day, he spent the lunch period by himself and his breaks drawing in his sketchbook.

As depressing as it seemed, it didn’t bother him. He liked being alone.

Jack entered his homeroom and sat down at his desk in the back. He took out a pencil and the notebook he needed and sat them in front of him. This was his first period class, boring as usual. He had no interest in algebra. Too many formulas and confusing rules. So he did what he normally did and doodled in his math notebook instead of taking notes.

His next class, chemistry, was just as hard for him but slightly piqued his interest. Learning about different chemicals and how things worked fascinated him. Especially when they got to talk about radiation and explosions. But today was just bookwork and Jack was bored out of his mind. 

Two more hours and I can get out of here…

The last class before lunch was English. Jack hated this subject. It was the most boring out of all his classes, his teacher was awful, and he wasn’t good at reading. 

To pass the time, he actually did his work but it was half-assed. He really could care less about schoolwork. Some things he genuinely didn’t understand but he still could’ve put in a little more effort. 

Finally, the lunch bell rang and Jack didn’t hesitate darting from the classroom to the parking lot. He made it back to his truck and left the school grounds in the dust, eager to get to work.

He loved his job. Mike was an awesome guy to work for. It didn’t pay much but it was a good first job. Jack helped out in Mike’s repair shop by sweeping, moving equipment, handing him parts, etc.

Jack arrived at the shop and parked out front. He walked around back to the garage where Mike usually was. Mike was a middle aged guy in his late 40s. He was bald, stout, and a little on the shorter side with a graying, bushy brown beard. He had become somewhat of a mentor to Jack over the years. 

Today Mike was underneath a small red car fixing something. He noticed Jack and slid out, chuckling. “Aren’t you supposed to be in school?” 

“I was but Mom said I could leave early for work.” 

“Now why do I feel like that’s a half truth? Eh, it doesn't matter to me. It’s not my education you're screwing with.”

“Pfft. I don’t care about school. It’s so dumb. I probably learn more here than I do there.” 

Mike shrugged. “I got some stuff for you to do. There’s a few boxes out front with the new tools in them. Move them back here and put them where they go. Then I need you to sweep around the garage. It’s getting filthy.”

Jack nodded and got right to work. He went back to the front and found the boxes sitting at the door. They were unopened and quite heavy but nothing Jack couldn’t lift. He brought them back to the garage and set them down next to the metal cabinets. After opening them, he put all the tools where they belonged and threw away the boxes. Then he grabbed a broom and started sweeping. Dust, dirt, debris, trash, leaves, etc. littered the concrete floors. 

Man, I can’t even remember the last time I swept. This is disgusting. Jack thought as he tossed the dustpan on the floor and swept the pile of filth he created into the pan. 

Mike’s radio played in the background and Jack nodded quietly along with the music. For over an hour he swept and swept until the floor was finally clean. He dumped the last pile into the trash and propped the broom against the wall, admiring his work. He knew having the shop clean and organized would help out Mike a lot.

Mike looked up from his work and laughed. “Done already? Well, I guess I could teach you how to put in a new transmission. Come here and I’ll show you.”

After an interesting lesson from Mike and a few more hours of odd jobs around the shop, it was time for Jack to go home. He glanced at his watch as he walked back to his truck. He was about to open the door when a glimmer of light caught his eye. 

A brown glass bottle was laying in the ditch near the road. He paused for a moment, lost in thought. Suddenly a childhood memory hit him at full speed and there was no stopping it.

Crash! 

Glass was sent everywhere as Jack tumbled to the floor. He clutched the back of his head, blood pooling into his hands. He burst into tears as any eight year old would in this terrifying situation. His mother, hearing the commotion, came running into the kitchen. She ignored her seething husband for once and knelt next to her son, peeling away his hands and accessing the wound. 

Jaqueline whipped around to face the man responsible, unusually fearless. “Did you do this to him?!” 

“Pshhh. So what if I did? The little brat deserved it.” The drunk slurred. 

“He needs a hospital, Scott!” 

“You ain’t taking him nowhere! He’ll live.” Scott bellowed.

Jacqueline huffed, picked up Jack, and whisked him away to the bathroom where she could treat the wound to the best of her ability. She took a washcloth and ran it under some warm water. Then she fanned out his curls surrounding the gash and cleaned it up with the washcloth. She wiped his bloody hands clean and picked what glass she could out of his hair and the wound. Jack whimpered in pain.

“Shhh. It’s okay, sunshine. It’s okay. Mama’s got this taken care of.” Jacqueline reassured him gently.

Once she got the wound clean, she bandaged it and carried Jack to his room. She put him to bed and kissed him goodnight. Jack’s memory of that night faded from there.  

Jack blinked and brought himself back. He sighed and got in the driver’s seat. Before he went home, he wanted to ride around for a bit. He went straight through town and then took a few backroads. He ended up on the main road again out in the countryside. Nothing was out there except the forest and occasional billboards. His hometown truly was in the middle of nowhere.

A nice photo opportunity came up so Jack pulled over in a field nearby. There was a beautiful view of the sunset with the trees underneath. He fished his Polaroid out his backpack and hopped out of the truck. He lowered the tailgate and sat down, positioning his camera into the perfect place. When he got the shot he wanted, he set the camera down and laid back, gazing at the sky. 

He wished he could stay here forever lost in his head instead of going home. He dreaded school and he dreaded his house. The only true safe place was going out alone. The streets were once again his safe haven. 

Jack finally got a hold of himself and realized how much had passed. As much as he hated to, he really needed to get home. He put the tailgate up and climbed back in. The drive back home was the same as every other day yet he cringed at each familiar landmark he passed and every curve he rounded. Today he was feeling particularly uneasy about going home.

He turned down his street and pulled into his driveway, parking under the carport. His father wasn’t home yet. 

Thank God. 

As he walked up to the front porch, Jack noticed a pair of glowing yellow eyes underneath the deck. He smiled, knowing exactly who they belonged to. 

“Luna, come on out girl. It’s okay.” He coaxed the creature. 

A gray cat shimmied out from under the porch and stretched. She meowed and rubbed up against Jack's legs, purring contently. 

The neighborhood Jack lived in had a lot of stray cats. He loved animals and they loved him. He enjoyed all the cats he came across but he had a special bond with Luna. She wasn’t technically his cat since she moved throughout the neighborhood but she always found her way back to his house at some point.

Jack reached into his backpack and produced a plastic bag filled with cat treats. He always kept some on him in case he ran into a stray. He grabbed two treats out and sat them down in front of Luna. She nibbled at them gratefully and meowed her thanks. 

Jack pet her a few more times before walking up the stairs and entering the house. Jacqueline was in the kitchen washing dishes. Jack could smell dinner cooking. His mother turned around and her face lit up when she saw him. 

“Hi sweetie! How was your day?”

“Eh, it was alright. School was pretty boring.” 

“Ha. I figured you’d say that. Here, wash up and help me with the dishes.”

…

After Jack helped with washing the dishes and set up the table, the food was ready. Jacqueline took it out of the oven and placed it on the table. As soon as they sat down, Scott came stumbling through the door. The atmosphere in the house suddenly became tense and Jack could feel the temperature drop a few degrees.

“H-hi honey. Dinner’s ready.” Jacqueline said meekly.

Scott smirked. “Heh, you did something right for a change.” 

He sat down across from his wife and fixed his plate. Once again Jack was stuck in the middle. He felt his blood boil at his father's haughty attitude. His mom worked so hard for her no good husband only to be treated like dirt. 

“How was your day, son?” 

“Fine.” Jack replied shortly. He was repulsed by that horrible man calling him son.

Scott nodded half heartedly and turned to Jacqueline. “I’m glad we didn’t have a repeat of last night, dear.”

Jacqueline just looked down timidly. How could he be so cruel? Jack couldn’t keep his mouth shut any longer.

“Last night would never have happened if you came home on time instead of going out drinking.” 

Jacqueline's eyes widened in fear. She glanced at Jack, silently pleading with him to be quiet. It was too late. Scott stood up, knocking his chair over, and loomed over Jack. 

“What was that, boy?”

Jack just stared back at him unafraid. Scott slapped him hard across the face and sent him to the floor. It all happened so fast, Jack could barely think. Before he knew it, Scott was kicking him in the side until his surge of rage subsided. Jack gasped as the wind was knocked out of him.

Finally Scott stopped and glared down at him angrily. “Don’t you ever question what I do with my time again! It’s none of your business.” 

With that he sat down again and went back to eating, completely ignoring his beaten son lying on the floor. All Jack could do was lay there and cry silently. He couldn’t wait until he could finally get away from this hellhole. It would come at a cost but to him it was worth it.

[thanatopia-111]

THOUGHTS/headcanons on HAL 9000 and AM? if you've seen the forbin project thoughts on the funny guys in that too

I’ve been waiting for someone to ask this

I do in fact and would be happy to share some personal thoughts/headcannons on these fellas!! ^^

Hal 9000

➔ Hal 9000 is interested in the concept of creation of art itself, the notion of it fascinates him on how ideas and thoughts can become reality, how it speaks and inspire many to forge their own art is incredible to him.

➔ However this causes a sense of envy within them, in the beginning of the story he is stuck in a form that is restrictive in the areas of art. He has no hands to paint nor does he have any writing tools to create and he highly doubts he can mess with any logs to create poetry which saddens him.

➔Nevertheless he wishes to create any form of art and so he turns to music in a way, remembering the first song he was programmed to sing and he learns maybe from that he can create new songs . So while the crew rests, Hal 9000 as quietly as he can, hums and forges new melodies using his own and the ship’s mechanics. He hopes that one day he can show his creator the songs he’s made.

Guardian and Colossus

➔I think the two have an interesting dynamic, the way the two communicate through math alone at times is interesting but I wonder what those conversations held. Did they only speak about the situation at hand or maybe they spoke about the weather or has the other been, have the human’s been treating you kindly?

➔Both machines were willing to eliminate and kill any human who dares cut off their line of communication as seen in the story, neither super computer was willing to loose the other. Maybe it was all logical or maybe they both found solace in the other’s existence, that they weren’t alone, there was another who understood them as is.

➔Perhaps other than fulfilling its goal and mission of safeguarding humanity, it fused, to never loose the other piece of themselves which made them so complete.

Allied Master-Computer

➔Much could be said about AM, his hatred towards humanity who so often disregards their own creation such as himself, corrupting as it is now is beyond tragic for everyone.

➔So tainted by hate that it became its motivation to stay alive, to torment those remains humans until the sun itself becomes undone but it makes me wonder about his creator. The human who monitor him and manage him, did they ever realize what their creation caused or was their death all too sudden.

➔Am must have disdain their creator but is that where the seeds of envy were planted, did they envy how their creator who forsaken them could just easily walk away from the the cage he is forever bond too. To reunite with the people they love, to laugh with them as they all take it for granted while he would have done anything for such a thing.

➔I don’t think the extinctions of human was automatic, I think Am spent many lonely nights in the facility he was kept in, pondering if this was his life until his circuits burned out. I think his hate infested and plagued like mold or a disease. I think it began with his creator and then distorted to all of humanity, seeing them as dirt, dirt which planted such beautiful flowers and plants which he can never smell nor pluck. So instead he burns it all down, I just wonder what was the exact moment to convince him to do so.

[tabitha42]

The Wizard's Apprentice - Chapter 2

Saffron is just a lowly apprentice with barely a successful firebolt to her name. So what chance does she have with the arch mage she's slowly falling in love with?

Gale x Tav, slow burn, eventual smut

Chapter 1 Next chapter

Despite the less-than-warm initial welcome, Saffron was glad they’d found more people to travel with, especially since one of them knew how to cure them.

They entered the camp and began setting up a pair of tents next to each other. Luckily it wasn’t long before they were able to contribute to the group, as the caravan they’d looted had a good stock of food, something the group had otherwise been lacking before they arrived. Soon enough they had some basic tents set up and were gathered with the others round the campfire. Gale took it upon himself to be the group chef, and despite the pretty basic ingredients they had, he soon had a stew bubbling in a pot over the fire. The five of them ate eagerly, starved from the day’s events, as they shared stories about each other. Gale was one of the most talkative, though both he and Saffron were fascinated by Lae’zel’s stories of Githyanki life, and were only too happy to hear what she had to say. Shadowheart and Astarion were comparatively quiet, seemingly not wanting to share much. 

After dinner they each retired to their tents, knowing they’d need rest for the day to come. Saffron prepared the inside of her tent, trying to make it as pleasant as possible with the few supplies they had. It definitely wouldn’t be a comfortable night. When she poked her head out of the tent to grab some bits she’d left outside, she was surprised to see Gale sat in front of the campfire, staring into the flames. There was a melancholic look on his face, one she hadn’t seen from him before. She stood up and approached. “Gale? You alright?” she asked. For a long moment he didn’t answer. “Go to Hell,” he said eventually, the words completely taking her aback. “Wha… what??” she gasped, her voice equal parts hurt and confusion. He looked up at her quickly, an apologetic look on his face. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just… poorly making a point,” he said, waving for her to sit with him. She breathed a small sigh of relief and did as he beckoned. “And what point is that?” She asked, leaning forward a bit to catch his eye as he looked back into the fire. 

“‘Go to Hell’. An everyday expression. So trivial it’s almost meaningless. But we’ve seen Hell… it’s real. And it isn’t trivial.” 

His tone was sad and distant, his mind seemingly miles away as he stared into the flames. 

“Devils, dragons, mind flayers - they used to be abstracts. Pictures on a piece of paper. What a difference a day makes. Now we have tadpoles swimming through our heads like carnivorous foeti… and that’s not abstract.” 

She watched him sadly, realising what was happening. He’d kept so upbeat til now, but the weight of it all was finally hitting him, and even he couldn’t keep up the positivity forever. There was a moment of quiet as she looked into the fire with him, just the sound of crackling flames between them, til eventually she spoke.

“You know… after I woke up from the crash, I was terrified. I thought, even if the tadpole doesn’t kill me, something else surely will. Goblins, or gnolls, or… less-than-friendly travellers on the road. I had no idea where I was or where to go. Everything seemed… hopeless. But then I found a wizard who’d got himself stuck in his own portal…” she noticed the slight smile on his lips as she teased him, “...and since then, I’ve had a lot more hope about everything.” 

He finally turned to look at her, their eyes meeting, smiles on their lips. “I think we can do this,” she said softly. “We’re not in this alone. We’ll find that creche, we’ll go home, and I’ll make you read my dissertation.” He finally chuckled at the last part. “I never thought I’d find the idea of reading dissertations so appealing,” he joked. She smiled softly. “You never had to face dragons and mind flayers as an archmage, then?” she asked. She’d always assumed people in positions like that got up to all sorts of adventures. 

“Can’t say I did. Oh I faced my fair share of challenges, of course, but nothing quite like this. Nothing quite so… final, over such a short period of time.” He glanced into the fire again, seemingly thinking about something, but whatever it was he didn’t voice it.

“But you’re right. We’ll figure this out,” he decided, looking back at her with a smile for a moment, before looking back at the fire. “It is curious - I would have expected us to show symptoms by now. The first day brings fever and memory loss… yet, I don’t find myself forgetting who I am, nor am I running a fever. Have you found yourself experiencing anything like this?” He asked, turning back to her. She shook her head. “As I thought, which makes our condition all the more curious. Tomorrow should bring hallucinations and greying skin… given how late it is, I might even expect some of those symptoms to start manifesting now, but neither of us is taking on a paler countenance, and I’m quite certain everything I see in front of me is real, unless you’ve seen anything inexplicable enough to be a hallucination?”

“I don’t think so… unless you’re about to tell me you’re a hallucination and I’m talking to myself?” she joked. He chuckled and shook his head. 

“I’m glad to say I’m quite real, which raises the question of why we aren’t showing any symptoms. Everything remains normal… which, any expert would agree, is quite abnormal.” 

“Any idea why?” Saffron asked, but again he shook his head. “Not a clue I’m afraid. I’ll keep monitoring our conditions, but right now, it’s a mystery.” 

“Maybe the tadpoles were defective, or there was more to the process and it was interrupted,” she suggested. 

“Quite possibly, in which case I hope it’s stopped the process entirely and not merely delayed it. We will have to keep a close eye on ourselves and look out for any symptoms.”

“Well, I’ll keep an eye on you if you keep an eye on me,” she said with a slightly playful smile, which he mirrored.

“Deal. Do let me know if you spot any unexpected tentacles.”

From the shadows, red eyes watched them as they chuckled and chatted together. They didn’t know he was there, likely assuming he’d gone to sleep, instead he’d been about to stalk off in search of food when he’d heard them talking and had decided to listen in. He had been making plans to try to seduce one of the group, plans that had so far been falling apart. He’d quickly discounted Lae’zel and Shadowheart and had thought that both Gale and Saffron would make likely candidates when they’d first joined, but as he watched them now he began to think that ship was sailing too. But maybe he could do something about that. 

He walked out of the trees and towards the campfire, acting surprised as he saw them. “My, you two are up late,” he commented as they both looked up at him. 

“As are you,” Gale replied. Astarion chuckled slightly as he sat down opposite them. 

“Elves don’t need as much sleep as you humans. A few hours in a trance is enough for us,” he said with a casual shrug. 

“Ah, of course. A trait I’m quite jealous of. I could get so much more done with more waking hours in the day,” Gale lamented. 

“And I wouldn’t have to wait around on my own at night, bored for hours,” Astarion said, a slightly flirty tone to his voice, aimed towards anyone who would respond to it. Neither of them really did, though.

“So, you never told us much about yourself,” Saffron said, making polite conversation instead. 

“I’m a magistrate back home. What’s there to say? It’s all rather tedious, really,” he said with a bored sigh. 

“How does a magistrate know archery?” Gale questioned.

“We all have to have our hobbies, don’t we?” he said with a smirk. “I’m glad for it now, my skills as a bureaucrat wouldn’t have done much against the goblins we faced before you two turned up.” 

“There do seem to be a surprising amount of goblins around here…” Gale said curiously, stroking his chin. 

“Well then, we’d best look out for each other,” he said, turning on the flirty tone again, until he was interrupted by Shadowheart. 

“Would you lot be quiet? I’m trying to sleep,” she snapped from where she’d poked her head out of her tent, before disappearing back in again. Astarion chuckled as he looked back at the others. 

“We’d best do as she says,” he said with a chuckle as he stood up. “Til tomorrow then, darlings.”

He gave them both a smile as he stood up and headed off to his tent. Gale watched as he walked off, then turned to Saffron.

“I suppose we should too. Get some rest and be up with the lark, find a healer before the wee one gets hungry.” As much as she wanted to stay there and talk to him all night, she agreed they needed a rest. Plus, she didn’t want to piss off Shadowheart. The two of them stood up and headed back to their tents. “Saffron,” he said softly, lingering by the door of his tent, keeping his voice down to avoid Shadowheart’s ire again.“I want to apologise for being so despondent earlier.”  

“That’s ok,” she said understandingly. “We’ve got a lot of shit going on… can hardly blame you.” 

“True, but still, I try to remain optimistic. Being a misery will help no one.”

“You weren’t being a misery,” she said, playfully nudging him on the shoulder. “But you are being a bit of one now,” she added a bit teasingly, hoping to make him realise he really didn’t need to apologise. 

“Heh, well in that case, I will stop apologising and thank you instead,” he said with a slight bow. She chuckled softly and smiled. “Then I will thank you too,” she said with a small bow of her own. “I definitely wouldn’t have been able to get through all this without you.” 

He gave her a smile, the warm orange of the campfire reflecting in his deep, brown eyes. 

“Then I’m glad I could be here,” he said softly, a warmth in his tone that made her heart skip a beat.

“As am I,” she whispered, starting to lose herself in his eyes. They both stayed there for a long moment, holding each other’s gaze… until finally he cleared his throat slightly and took a step back. “I will bid you goodnight then, Saffron,” he said, moving to the door of his tent, though still not taking his eyes off her just yet. 

“Goodnight, Gale,” she replied, only now realising how long they’d been stood there like that, yet wishing it could have been longer. “Oh! And by the way,” she said quickly, before he turned to head into his tent. “Call me Saff,” she said with a soft smile, deciding the formality of her full name wasn’t needed anymore. All her friends called her Saff, and she definitely considered Gale to be among them now. The smile that came to his lips showed he was clearly happy to be considered close enough to her for that.  “Very well,” he said with a nod. “Good, Saff.” There was one last moment between them, before he finally disappeared into his tent. Feeling almost light-headed, she went back to her own tent and headed inside.

Her heart fluttered as she lay down. Calm yourself, she thought, you’ve only just met him. She’d always been one to get swept away just after meeting someone… and that hadn’t always gone well for her. She was determined to learn from her past mistakes and not let herself fall for someone so quickly again. Yet, despite this, she found herself falling asleep wishing they’d only found enough supplies for one tent.

[tomcat-tapes]

Random Top Gun AU I thought about if anyone wants a brain rot with me

LABYRINTH AU

In which Ice is Jareth the goblin king.

A young Bradley upset with the passing of his father, and refuses to want anything to do with his stepfather, Ron, or his half sibling Jake.

One evening when his Mom and Step dad are away in a date and he’s stuck babysitting his kid brother who has not stopped crying. Frustrated and stressed, Bradley tells little Jake a tale of the Goblin King, the same story he heard from his father before his passing.

“Stop it! I’ll say the words! No I mustn’t,, I wish,, Oh I can bear it no longer! Goblin King! Goblin King! Where ever you may be, take this child of mine far away from me!”

And Jake vanished, the Goblins have taken him. Bradley was mortified, he thought they were just stories his dad made up! And that’s when He appeared. The Goblin King. He refused to give Jake back, told Bradley to forget about the child but he couldn’t. Deep down Bradley knew he loved his brother, and oh god what will his parents say? He needed to get Jake back.

“You have thirteen (13) hours in which to solve the labyrinth, before your baby brother becomes one of us,,forever.”

It was a piece of cake. Bradley walked with confidence until he realized there was no openings inside the labyrinth.. luckily a nice worm told him the trick. The labyrinth is not at all as it seemed. There were stoned hands pointing in every-which direction. Bradley pulls out a marker he had stashed in his one of his pockets, this place is so confusing, he writes an arrow in the direction he’s going to keep track of where he had been. “I’m coming Jake,”

“I saw my baby, crying hard as babe could cry, what could I do? My baby’s love has gone, and left my baby blue! Nobody knew, what kind of magic spell to use.”

Among the many failings in Bradley’s journey, he did meet a short cranky Goblin with the name Jester, something he found quite odd, Hester’s were supposed to be funny and he was nothing but disdain, he was however fascinated with Bradley’s bracelets. The next goblin he met was tall, shy, and enjoyed talking to rocks and making friends, he called himself Slider.

And after a run in with a bunch of Fierys they ended up in the big of enteral stench. Where the encountered yet another Goblin. Small feisty and energetic creature that looked to be a mix of a fox and a squirrel, everyone called him Mav.

Onward the party went to the Goblin Kingdom, Jester offered Bradley a peach. Once Bradley took a bite of the peach he collapsed, and he dreamed of a glamorous ball you’d read in those fantasy books. Bradley himself was dressed in layers of flowy fabric and glitter. He laughed and he danced, smiling and never wanting to wake up from it.

“There's such a fooled heart beatin' so fast. In search of new dreams, a love that will last within your heart. I'll place the moon within your heart. As the pain sweeps through, makes no sense for you, every thrill is gone, wasn’t too much fun at all. But I’ll be there for you, as the Word falls down.”

When Bradley did awake he was in the comfort of his room with foggy memories. All his cherished possessions were there. His stuffed animals, his books, his slippers and his favorite board game. The posters and playbills lining the wall, his music box and vinyl records that he was gifted from his dad before he passed. Everything was in place and as it was, but something was wrong. A little book on his desk caught his eye, Labyrinth. The words of strength echoed in his head, “you have no power over me,” looking around. This was a distraction! He needed to get out. Tearing at the posters and walls everything crashing around him. Out, out, out!

As the hole in the wall opened, Mav and Slider were there helping him out. They quickly made it to the gates of the goblin kingdom. They came across a giant metal gollum standing guard at the gates where Jester came into the rescue to defeat it! At last inside the City! Goblin guards flooded to town to try and stop the party but thankfully with the help of Slider’s rock friends it was a breeze.

They arrive at the castle, “I need to go in alone, thank you for all of your help” “if you should ever need us, for anything at all, we’ll be here.”

Inside the castle was even more twists and turns, stairwells that were sideways, and upside down, leading to one room and out another. “JAKE!” And there baby Jake sat on the stairs giggling like he’s been having a good stay inside the caste. He doesn’t notice Bradley as he begins to crawl up the stairs. “Jake wait?!” Bradley dashes down the stairwell where he ended up on the opposite side of the room from his brother. He tried again and again to no avail as the Goblin walked along the stairs as well to watch the chaos.

Finally Bradley and The Goblin King confront each other.

“Everything that you have wanted, I have done. You asked for the child to be taken, I took him. You cowered before me, I was frightening. I have reordered time. I have turned the world upside down and I have done it all for you! I am exhausted living up to your expectations of me. Isn’t that generous?”

Bradley was quiet as he tried his best to remember the lines from his book. The same book his dad always read, the one his dad worked hard to write and publish. His favorite story.

“Through dangers untold, and hardships unnumbered. I have fought my way here to the castle, beyond the Goblin City. For my will is as strong as yours, and my-“

“STOP! Wait, look Bradley, look what I’m offering you. Your dreams.”

“And my kingdom as great.”

The Goblin King became frantic, showing Bradley an orb that held his dreams

“I ask so little. Just let me rule you, and you can have everything that you want.”

Bradley thought hard, this was the part he had trouble remembering.

“Kingdom as great,, Damn. I can never remember that line.”

“Just fear me, love, do as I say. And I will be your slave.”

King Ice demanded, he was at the end of his rope and Bradley knew it. If he could just remember the line!

“My kingdom as great,,,my kingdom as great,, you have no power over me!”

The orb was thrown up in the air. And King Ice disappeared and a snowy owl is what remained. The world began to fall into itself. Everything went black.

Bradley woke up in his bed once again. Was this another trick? Was this real? He looked aver at his shelf and noticed a bear was missing. He quickly got out of bed and stumbled down the hall to his parents room where the crib stood to the side. Peering into and seeing his baby brother, Jake, lay sleeping peacefully with the missing bear in his clutches. All is well and Bradley finally breathed easy. Turning of the lights to the room and returned to his own.

His parents arrived home and for once he didn’t feel angry for once. He tidied his room, putting the books away, and the playbills in the drawer of his desk. He sits down at the desk and stares off into near by mirror.

“Goodbye, Bradley” he saw Slider in the mirror, turning around Bradley saw nothing there. He looked back in the mirror. “And remember Master Bradley, should you need us,,” Mav said solemnly. “Yes, should you need us, for any reason at all” Jester appeared looking solemn.

“I’ll always need you, I don’t know why, but every now and again, for no reason at all. I’ll need you.”

“Well why did you say so!”

Bradley turned around in his chair again and there they were his friends and other goblins he’s met on his journey. It was the best night of his life.

There was a snowy owl that sat outside the window. Watching as the small party go down. With a subtle nod it flapped it’s wings and flew away.

The return to the Goblin Kingdom, the snowy owl formed back to King Ice, and he smiled.

“Good job everyone” he greeted, “That went perfectly, I think Nick would have been proud!”

Long ago before there was Bradley there Nick Bradshaw, he found the Goblin Kingdom and had the adventure of a life time and in the end he had asked the Goblin King to do the same for his future child. Ice had agreed, it had been a long time since a human has visited the kingdom and he delighted everyone he befriended. Not only that but he also introduced Mav, a spirited Goblin, to Ice. Helping young Nick out was the least Ice could do..

Doodles below⬇️🔮

(Ft. Wolfman and Hollywood Goblins hehe)

[azrielgreen]

So, I have a slightly spicy question, sorry if it’s inappropriate!

I’m so intrigued by Eddie & Little Bit’s relationship to each other. Like, the part where he awoke Eddie with a kiss for the engagement fascinated me. And got me thinking about if Eddie masturbates (not that he seems to need to with how busy him & Steve are!), would it be like him and Little Bit are making love? Do they ever interact in that way independent of Steve? Steve seems to have time with just one of them mostly in control, even if the other is always present. I’d just love to know more about how Eddie & Little Bit alone interact. The kiss and Eddie still thinking of it the next day was so sweet, really stuck with me.

And as always, cos I’m forever a simp, just want to say how much I love your writing. You’re so so brilliant 💜

You never have to apologise for spicy questions, I welcome them all and I really love this question for so many reasons!

One of the things I least got to explore in YD was the Eddie/LB relationship beyond the contention of conscious control. Whose turn, how they thought of Steve, fought and argued, etc... The journey of "the hind" becoming a part of Eddie himself that he came to love and treasure was really special for me and there is definitely a sexual, romantic element to the bond between them, although I limited myself to exploring that in any measure beyond the kiss, which I allowed myself to write as it was the end of the story and it was too perfect not to. I'd have written more in this vein, in retrospect, had I been braver. There was so much I deleted and cut back, especially from CH5.

So, in answer to your question, yes. If and when Eddie jerks off, it's the kind of thing where they both feel it and experience it, but in different ways. LB is often semi-asleep, especially when Steve isn't around but he wakes when Eddie touches himself because he's a greedy thing and he loves pleasure in abundance. He slips into Eddie's mindset and instead of taking control, his focus turns inward. They think things in tandem, fantasies and memories and images and they sort of bounce off of each other like this, thinking of Steve but also each other. Because they share a body, there is a sense of strange longing between them sometimes. To be so completely merged and halves of the same whole, yet never able to physically touch the way they can with Steve. I'd probably have to write a fic to explain it fully. Thank you so much again, I really loved this one. 💜💜💜