Tumgik
#The wolf and the princess Masterlist
kaciidubs · 4 months
Text
Unexpected Alpha | Spooktober 2023
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
@sweetracha asked: Chan has been hiding his werewolf side from reader for awhile now but being caught up with work he forgot to check the moon cycles. Cue reader finding out about his other side. Now Channie has always been the confident dom in the relationship so you thought no different when he turned wolf. You were so...so...so wrong
❣ Summary: When an overworked Chris forgets about his rut, you're quick to help him through it. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 4.89k ❣ Warnings: Hybrid! AU, Werewolf! Chris, he has a big dick, smut, comfort, slight angst, praise, begging, riding, creampies, Dom/Sub dynamics, slight Switch! Chris, implied multiple rounds ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Chris, Channie, Baby, Alpha [once], and Darling, Reader is referred to as Baby, Princess, Good Girl, and Love, lightly edited ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist ❣ Spooktober 2023
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Chris was always on top of everything, it was one of the things he prided himself on when it came to his life; he kept track of schedules and deadlines, he made sure everyone was clear on instructions and plans, and he managed healthy routines - outside of his sleep schedule. 
He made sure everything was perfect and went according to the plan carefully crafted in his head, and not just for his sake - but for yours.
It had been a while since the world was introduced to nearly half of its population being some sort of shifter - hell, the industry was wonderfully saturated with shifters and shifter supporters itself - but things were different when it came to you.
You knew he was a shifter, he’d let you know that since the beginning - he just didn’t let you know what type of shifter he was; and, no, it wasn’t because he wanted to lie to you, far from it.
He was trying to protect you.
It was always speculation on what type of shifter he was amongst the fans, majority of them settling on a dog type of some sort - some even going so far as picking breeds - and they weren’t wrong in a sense, but they definitely weren’t in the right vein.
He was a wolf shifter; a werewolf for the sake of lesser words - an alpha to be exact, and though they weren’t the rarest of shifters, they weren’t regarded in the highest of honors when it came to the general media and in the same breath they were often fetishized to fit a specific stereotype.
Chris swore he would tell you when the time was right - he knew you were one of the biggest supporters when it came to all shifters - but his fear of your reaction always held him back; his fear of losing you over something he’d seen so many people before him get ridiculed for making the confession die on his tongue.
So, fate took matters in their own hands.
He knew something was wrong when he woke up with a start, an all too familiar heat blanketing his barely clothed body and coating him in a thin sheen of sweat, his senses dialed to ten as he took in the way the fan in the corner spread your scent around the bedroom; cinnamon and pound cake with an undercut of strawberries.
A low rumble vibrated through his chest, and he was close to chalking it up to a random heat spike until a flash of pain struck through his abdomen, a sharp hiss passing through clenched teeth as he tried his best not to wake you.
No… This wasn't- Could it?
Scooting his body away from the loose spooning position you both were in, he rolled onto his back and stretched his arm out in search of his phone on the nightstand. Feeling the sleek device against his fingers, he grabbed it and wasted no time in unlocking it with his fingerprint; squinting against the brightness in search for his calendar.
His worst fear was confirmed at the sight of a little red bubble highlighting the current day, the single letter ‘R’ reminding him of the one thing that managed to slip his mind among all the hustle and bustle of his life.
His rut was starting.
“Fuck… Fuck!” He whispered, eyes flicking to the time before turning off his phone and returning it back to its charging block.
He always had a plan when it came to his rut; he would stay at the dorm under the guise of saving time on transportation for early schedules, lock himself in his room, and do everything in his power to quell the almost insatiable urge to claim and breed - more specifically, claim and breed you.
However, his schedules lately have been drowning him to no end in work, recordings, practices, and preparing for their next comeback - always ending the day with him slugging his way through a shower and ultimately passing out in bed next to your already sleeping form.
There was no way he could justify a 1:43 AM trip to the dorms, if he had to stay at the dorms he’d be there straight from the JYP building, and if there were an emergency then he’d get a call that would wake both you and him.
Should he just risk it? Lie to you yet again and leave you in your shared bed alone?
His stomach turned at the thought, a displeased growl emanating from his throat.
“Channie?”
He could feel his heart - and dick - jump at the sound of your sleep laced voice, sharp eyes watching in the dark as you shuffled around to face him; even with a puffy face and barely open eyes, you were the most beautiful person he’d ever seen.
“‘S everything okay? The kids alright?”
His breath caught, mind running too wild for his own good - kids, you were so caring, so selfless, nurturing, he could give you his kids, he could give you his pups.
“Chris?” You blinked at him, confusion threading through your voice as you reached your hand out to touch him, “Are you-”
His hand shot out to grab you by the wrist, grip tightening in the smallest of ways as he kept you from coming any closer.
“Don’t.” He gritted, willing himself to ignore the feeling of your pulse beneath his fingertips - a slight jump, a hint of worry, a spike of fear spicing your scent. “I- I’m sorry, baby, but I - I need to leave.”
Lips drawn into a frown, your eyebrows creased softly, “You need to- why? What’s going on?”
“Nothing’s going on, love-”
“Then why do you have to leave? Is it one of the boys?”
“No, they’re fine-”
“So what is it? What aren’t you telling me?”
The broken sound in your voice was making his head spin, every instinct within him urging him to comfort you, to make you feel better - he could make you feel better, you could make him feel better.
“Christopher,” you started, sitting up enough to prop yourself up with your left hand, gazing down at him with soft eyes, “tell me what’s going on, baby, please, let me help you.”
Caring, understanding, open and willing, you’d shown him time and time again that you weren’t scared of them, you weren’t scared of him - so why did he keep telling himself to push you away? 
Why did he never realize that hiding from you was doing the exact opposite to what he was trying to do?
Blinking hard, he let go of your wrist in favor of pressing his hand to his face, the faint hint of strawberries simultaneously calming him and sending him into a mental spiral.
“I… I’m- It’s my rut, and I-” Dragging his hand across his face, he let it fall to the small space between the both of you, staring defeatedly at the ceiling above, “I don’t want to put that pressure onto you, I don’t trust myself to be around you.”
There was a beat of silence, he couldn’t bring himself to look at you, scared of what expression you could have been holding - that is, until he felt the bed shift and a familiar weight settle itself around his hips, just barely hovering above his lap.
His eyes snapped to yours, hands instinctively finding their home on your hips, hidden underneath the familiar cotton of his t-shirt. “Baby-”
“Chris,” your voice was firm, almost challenging as your hands slid to cover his, “I don’t want you to keep hiding yourself from me.” Feeling his body tense, you nodded softly, “Yeah - I figured out why you always went to the dorms for days on end, and I thought you’d come to me when you were ready but you didn’t.”
He could feel the disappointment radiating off of you, tinging the sweet aroma he knew and loved - he had royally fucked up.
“Princess, I’m sorry - I’m so, so sorry, I really didn’t mean to-”
“I know, baby, you meant well and I love you for that - you’re so selfless it makes me want to punch you sometimes.” A light laugh rolled past your lips and you felt him slightly deflate underneath you, relaxing just a bit, “So, to make up for it, you’re going to let me be selfish and let me help you from now on.”
He went to open his mouth in retaliation but you beat him to the punch, lowering yourself onto his lap fully, nestling his clothed cock against your equally clothed cunt, the warmth barely hidden behind the cotton short circuiting his brain.
“You will let me help you, because you and I both know this pussy is leagues better than whatever you’d be using at the dorm.”
“M-My hand,” he gritted, chest heaving with deep breaths as he tried to ignore the pulsing coming from you or him or both.
“Just your hand?” You mused, tilting your head slightly.
“That’s all I’m admitting right now.” Licking his lips, he paused for a second, “Well, not all - there’s one other thing…” Watching as you nodded for him to continue, he let out a slow breath, “I’m not a dog.”
Your eyebrows furrowed, “I… I never called you a d-”
“I’m a wolf.”
“Oh.”
Okay, that throb definitely came from you.
“An alpha.”
“Oh.”
The spike in your scent nearly made him lightheaded, the headiness of your arousal further thickening the already addicting smell, “A-And I promise I’ll be gentle, but if it’s too much-”
“Safeword.” You finished for him, the conversation mirroring one you’ve both had before, “I promise I’ll let you know - now, can I help you?”
Chris wasn’t sure how he was able to contain himself as long as he was with you on top of him, looking down at him with so much warmth, understanding, acceptance - that would’ve been enough to get him through the next few days alone.
Well, in theory, at least.
Nodding to your question, he watched as your lips pulled into a soft smile before your hands moved to tug at your shirt, “Help me take this off?”
He didn’t need to be told twice as his hands moved down to the hem that was pooled around your hips, fingers hooking underneath and dragging along your sides as he slowly slid the fabric up your torso,
Meeting him halfway, you pulled the shirt off the rest of the way, throwing it to some dark reach of the bedroom to be found at a later time, hopefully.
A slow hiss escaped him, large hands running across your sides and up your stomach, blazing a trail to cup your breasts in his palms. “Fuck me…”
“That’s what I’m trying to do,” you teased, arching into the warmth of his hands, “I thought you’d be absolutely ravaging me by now, mister wolf.”
He scoffed out a laugh, peering up at you with inquisitive eyes, “You want me to?”
“Helping you includes letting you use me however you need, so; please, Chris, use me.”
His body shivered underneath you, and before you knew it your nipples were subject to the slightly cold air of the room yet again - budding quickly in the change of temperature as his hands flew to your panties.
“Up.” He murmured, low tone bordering on a growl.
Heeding his command, you pushed yourself up onto your knees, just for a harsh tearing sound to reach your ears and bring your slightly dazed attention to your panties - or rather, the remains of your panties. He quickly tore a line down the other side before tugging it from underneath you, the sorry excuse for underwear nothing more than an ‘H’ shaped cloth before being flung into the darkness.
“Babe!”
“I’ll buy you more, whatever you want, whenever you want,” he huffed nonchalantly, bringing his right hand to your face, tapping his finger against your pouted bottom lip, “now, open.”
Choosing to save your faux sadness for another time, you parted your lips and brought two of his fingers into your mouth, tongue immediately swirling around the digits as you sucked lightly.
His eyes fluttered, dick painfully and pitifully straining against his boxer briefs, eagerly recalling the way that same tongue felt against his length - tomorrow, for sure.
Pulling his fingers from your mouth with a soft pop, he brought his hand back down between your parted legs, ghosting against your outer lips, “Tell me if it’s too much.”
You nodded reassuringly, “Promise.”
With your confirmation, he dipped his fingers between your lips, collecting your arousal on his spit-slicked digits before pressing them against your slit, slowly sinking them in all the way to his knuckles.
A low moan fell from your lips as his fingers stretched you open, head lolling back with bated breaths while your thighs slightly shook from holding yourself up, “C-Can’t you go faster? We’ve had sex before, baby, I know what you feel like.”
“Ruts are… It’s different than how things normally are,” he murmured, setting a thorough pace of curling his fingers with fluid motions of his wrist, “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Patience was never your friend, especially when it came to having your boyfriend in the best way imaginable, and you huffed in disdain. “You won’t- ah, hurt me, I’m wet enough, you can feel it, you know I am!”
He growled your name through gritted teeth, noting the way your walls clenched around  his fingers in response, “I know you’re excited, but I know how this works - I’m not fucking you until I know you’re ready.”
He was right, you knew he was, but you were desperate - you needed this as much as he did and maybe he was aware of that, too. Maybe he knew how much you missed him, wholly and truly as you watched him slowly get taken over by work and worry.
Sparing him the rest of your needy insistence, you adjusted yourself to lean over him, resting your bare chest against his while laying your cheek against his pillow; inadvertently opening yourself up more for his fingers to work through.
“Good girl,” Chris cooed, his free hand cupping the outside of your thigh, “it’ll be quick, I swear.”
If there was one thing to know about Chris, it was that he kept his promises, and somewhere between the hums of praise against your ear and the well timed strokes of his fingers, you found yourself three fingers deep and on the cusp of an orgasm.
“Channie, please,” you panted against his pillowcase, head spinning and ears picking up on the wet sound of his fingers dutifully working you toward your high, “wanna- fuck- wanna come on your dick, please? Please, baby, can I?”
“Love, I…” The attempt of formulating an excuse died on his tongue - you were ready, he could feel it in more ways than one, the evidence dripping down the palm of his hand.
Pushing yourself to your forearms, you hovered over his body with all the strength you could muster, gazing down at him with lust fogged eyes. “I-I told you, if it was too much I’d let you know, remember? Chris, please,” dipping your head down, your lips pressed against his plump pair in what you could only express as hopeless desperation, “this is too much, I want you in me, now.”
A shaky breath fell from his lips as his fingers stilled, willing himself to focus on the pressure of your forehead against his while your words did everything in their power to rouse his instincts.
You were ready, you wanted him - he needed you.
The next thing you registered was the long, slow drag of his fingers out of your pussy, the way your walls clenched around nothing almost enough to make you beg for him to go back to fingering you; that is, if it weren’t for the feeling of his forearms brushing against the inside of your thighs.
It was a short struggle of working his boxer briefs down his thighs with you still on top of him, but he persevered and soon they were shuffled down his legs and kicked off the side of the bed, leaving you both fully naked under the cool light of the moon streaming through the window.
You wasted no time in sitting up fully yet again, reaching behind you to take his dick in your hand and running the smooth tip along your dripping folds.
“Baby, hold- oh, fuck-” Chris’ hands flew to your hips as you began sinking down on him, his mind going blank at the feeling of your all-too-tight walls hugging every inch of his girth.
“S-So big,” you gasped, eyebrows pinching as you sunk further, “it feels- jesus christ, it feels bigger - oh my god-”
“I told you, everything’s different when I’m in rut - everything.” Hissing out a short breath, he blinked away the haze and watched your face, “Don’t rush yourself, take it slow - and if it hurts-”
“-safeword, I know, baby, just-” Sucking in a breath, you steeled your nerves before releasing it in a slow exhale, relaxing your muscles as best as you could, “I know you trust me, but I need you to trust yourself, okay?”
Blinking up at you, he let your words settle in his head - he trusted you beyond a shadow of a doubt, no questions asked, but now he needed to show himself that same level of love.
So, he did; relaxing against the bed to witness you gently fuck yourself with the half of his length currently inside of you, your hands played against his chest for further support.
With each inch slid out came a new inch that slid in, airy moans floating past your lips as you felt your walls flutter to accompany the new stretch until you were sat in his lap and twitching at the promise of your first orgasm.
“Good girl, look at you - fuck, you’re taking me so well.”
This was better than anything he could’ve dreamt of; the way your nails dug into his chest, your head bowed as you tried composing yourself as best you could, all while your pussy hugged him in a way that made his hormonal mind spin.
“B-Big.” You gasped out, involuntarily clenching your walls with a sharp inhale, “So big, Channie.”
Truly you meant to say more, you wanted to talk about how perfect he was and how good he felt, but your brain was set on how immensely full you were and how the stretch was unlike anything you’ve ever felt despite how big he normally was to begin with.
“I told you,” he taunted in a sing-song voice, shifting his hips upwards and earning a high pitched mewl from you in return, “but you wanted to prove yourself, wanted to help your wolf, didn’t you?”
“Y-Yes,” nodding mindlessly, you locked your eyes with his own, watery and blown out with lust, “wanna help you - want you to use me, baby.”
His breath caught, hands flexing against the flesh of your thighs as he fought back the urge to make do on your words - not yet.
“Use me first, love.” Sliding his hands up to your hips, Chris held you tight, “Come for me, then I’ll show you how thankful I am for you, yeah?”
You nodded once more before shifting your pressure onto your calves and his chest, rising halfway off of his cock to sink back in a slow rhythm - though, even that simple motion had a breathless whimper falling from your lips. After another test bounce, you picked up the pace and rode him with as much vigor as you could muster; his grip on you guiding and assisting your motions in the process.
Ragged pants and moans filled the room, though most of the sounds came from you as you fought against the fiery licks of your orgasm at your heels, wanting to ride him as close to completion as you possibly could - not that you fared any better with him any other time.
“I can feel you clenching, baby,” he grunted, bucking his hips up at your next fall, “gonna come for me? Are you gonna come for me, princess?”
“Mhm- ‘M close,” your body felt like it was on fire, thighs burning with exertion through each rise and fall that brought you closer and closer to that sweet release. “Please, please, Chris, I’m so close.”
On instinct, he brought his right hand up from its place on your hip and pressed his thumb to your bottom lip, watching as you graciously parted your lips to lick at the pad before he brought it back down to the apex of your thighs; spreading your lower lips to press his slick thumb against your clit.
It only took a few well timed flicks for you to stutter in your riding, freezing in his lap as your pussy fluttered and clenched sporadically; clipped breaths and broken moans of his name filling the air.
“Ah, C-Chris- Chris!”
The way your nails dug into his chest should’ve hurt - there would undoubtedly be marks left behind in the morning - but the only thing running through his mind was the way you looked practically vibrating in his hold, your scent further flooding his senses as the warmth of your cum further slickened his cock.
You barely had the chance to fully come down from your high when you felt a shift - then, you were falling, your back landing on the mattress and a pillow cushioning the back of your head; you were on your back now, and hovering above you was your massive, borderline feral, boyfriend.
“Did so good for me,” he purred, hands sliding up your stomach to your breasts, then down again to your thighs and the backs of your knees, “such a good girl, my good girl - mine.”
A shiver ran down your spine, your pussy clenching around his length that was, surprisingly, still inside of you despite the change of positions.
“So perfect - can’t even believe you’re real sometimes.” He raised your legs up and slightly outward, eyes set in a firm gaze where you were still connected, “You deserve so much, ‘m gonna give you everything - anything you want, it’s yours.”
“You.” Breathless and starry-eyed, you spoke up once more, “I just want you, please, Chr- Please, alpha.”
The speed at which his eyes met yours would’ve made you think you said something horrendously wrong, but when all you saw was a shadow of dominance further darkening his lust blown irises, you knew your words coaxed something free.
“You want me?” His tone was low, velvety, though the grip on the backs of your knees tightened and, without warning, he bucked his hips forward to sheath a lingering inch or so back inside of you, “Then take me, princess.”
If anything, his words were a warning for what was soon to come as you were held spread open for his viewing pleasure; the sound of the mattress squeaking becoming a background tempo to the rhythmic slapping of his thighs to the bottom of your ass - fast and deep, each thrust slowly inching your body up the bed as he easily followed.
Your hand pressed against the headboard, anchoring you in place before the top of your head could meet the wood, while the other wrapped around his forearm and held on for dear life - the only thing leaving your mouth being short moans and a chorus of ‘ah, ah, ah’s.
“I’ll give you everything,” Chris huffed breathlessly, his heated gaze traveling up your body before landing on your face, “all of me - my love, my knot, my cum-” A shudder ran through his body, his thrusts growing faster, “-every last drop, just like you want, yeah?”
The closest thing to a confirmation you could offer was a rapid nod of your head, eyes rolling as the fat head of his cock brushed against a spot that had you seeing stars.
“Words, baby - tell me.”
“Yes!” You cried out, tears of pleasure pricking your eyes as your second orgasm reared its head, “W-Want it- Want your knot! Need you to- F-Fuck, need you to fill me, please!”
Suddenly, you were dragged from the top of the bed toward the middle with ease, the presence of his hands behind your knees now changing to him locking your legs around his hips and propping himself up above you on his forearms.
“I’ll knot you so well, baby,” his nose brushed against yours, lips ghosting with each hushed word, “give you everything I have - I’ll make sure it sticks, you just need to take it.”
You panted pleas and promises against his lips, your arms locking around his shoulders as a hand found its way to his hair, while the other splayed across the top of his back - too far gone to fully consider the words he was saying, you just needed him.
“You can take it, you can take it.” He murmured softly, a stark contrast to the frantic thrusts currently shaking your body, “I know you can take it, right? It’ll fit, I’ll make it fit.”
A sudden grind of his hips had you flying over the edge of your second orgasm unexpectedly, barely managing a sharp moan as your back arched off of the bed as best it could with him caging you in.
Chris shivered, driving into you with short, sharp ruts as his orgasm finally began to show, the anticipation making him pant heavily above you while his eyes scanned your blissed out face; your body thrumming with the aftershocks of your high.
“C-Channie.” You whimpered, eyebrows pinching as a new presence made itself known in your abdomen, “Channie, w-what-”
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he soothed instantly, though his pace remained unchanged, “‘m almost there, princess, I just need-” A pained grunt escaped him, the beginnings of his knot starting to grow, “I need you to take it for me- Please, please, baby, take it, take me, okay? You can do it, you can.”
The increasing stretch made you keen, your nails now digging into his back in an attempt to counteract the pain, “It’s- It’s too much, baby - oh my god.” Despite your feigned protests, you found yourself locking your legs around his hips, your body more than willing to cross this next hurdle.
Each pull out became shallower and shallower, his knot slowly getting caught in your walls.
“Please, please, please, please, please.” He chanted desperately, his right hand fisting the crumpled sheets underneath you, “It can fit, it’ll fit - just a little more, princess, just a little-” The next thrust forward finally locked him in place, his knot fully surrounded by your tight walls, “Fuck! T-Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
You shook underneath him, nonsensical babbles leaving your mouth as tears of pure pleasure streaked their way down your face, “I-I- C-Come, Channie, come- ‘S big, big-”
“I-I’m gonna,” Chris heaved above you, breath rugged and short, sweat dripping down his temples, “‘m gonna come, baby- I’m gonna- Fuck, fuck, fuck-”
His voice tapered off into a high pitched whine, followed by a groan as his cock throbbed inside of you, flooding your poor cunt with wave after wave of cum.
At some point you must’ve blacked out, because when you came to he was no longer gasping for air, however the ache between your legs was still very present - though, it wasn’t uncommon for him to stay inside of you after a creampie.
“Baby? Princess? Are you okay? What’s your color?”
Smiling dazedly, you hummed happily with a soft sigh, “Green, so green.”
You went to stretch your legs when a short tug stopped you in your tracks, Chris groaning above you with a sharp breath, “Don’t- Don’t move, baby.”
Running back the last few moments of consciousness, you were quickly and graciously reminded of your new predicament - though, said memory caused more harm than good, as your walls fluttered involuntarily at the spicy recollection of events.
“Baby.”
“I’m sorry!” You pouted at him, hanging your hands from his wide shoulders, “I can’t help it, it was hot.”
Chris scoffed out a chuckle, “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself, but we’re gonna be stuck like this for a little bit until my knot goes down, okay?”
Nodding, you gave him a soft tug, smiling as he dropped his weight to lay on top of you before tucking his head in the crook of your neck, littering butterfly kisses to the undoubtedly damp skin there.
“You did such a great job, baby,” he murmured softly, nosing at the underside of your jaw, “I’m so proud of you, and… Thank you for wanting to help me through this - seriously, you didn’t have to and I just… I love you so, so much.”
“I love you too, darling,” you scratched your nails against his scalp gently, a soft hum vibrating through his chest, “just remember that I’m here for you no matter what - when I say I love you, that means all of you.” Accepting his sign of understanding as him raising slightly to catch your lips in a slow kiss, you gave him a tired smile, “Now, let me take a quick nap, because you and I both know there’s more where that came from.”
“Yeah… You’re in for a long night, princess.”
Tumblr media
✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @goblinracha, @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @j-onedrabbles, @happilydeepestwonderland, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @sometimesleeknows, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @broken-glowsticks, @s00buwu, @dancerachaslut, @junglyric, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89, @main-character0, @vampcharxter, @ddyskz, @prettymiye0n, @bbgnyx, @ivyisnotokay
✧. ┊Kinktober only: @selicua
✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!
1K notes · View notes
fairysluna · 3 months
Note
HERE AGAIN
43. “Go on ride my thigh.” WITH HARWIN
knight in shining armor.
When the Red Keep is attacked, Ser Harwin is the one in charge of your protection. Spending the night by your side, he finds it hard to keep his emotions under control.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
MASTERLIST
PAIRING — Harwin Strong x Targ!Fem!Reader.
TAGS — fluff (a bit too much, I'm sorryy), smut —thigh riding, nipple play, oral fixation, praise, virgin!reader, dirty talk—, sexual tension, descriptions of nudity, mentions of blood and violence, murder. If something is missing let me know!!
AUTHOR'S NOTE — small context: here the dance of the dragons doesn't happen, Rhaenyra never fucked Harwin and the greens and blacks are a lovey dovey family. Long live fanfiction for this. A big, big thank you to @bucknastysbabe for beta reading this!! Ilysm!!🤍
My baby bel, i think i put a bit too much fluff into the mix while writing this, but i hope you like it and enjoy it. Ilyy🤍
WORD COUNT — 3.6k
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤenglish is not my first language.
Tumblr media
A thunderous sound woke you up from your peaceful slumber. By looking around in the darkness of your chambers, you could tell something was wrong; a strange atmosphere appeared in the air, something odd that brought an inexplicable chill in your spine. You arose from your bed, walking barefooted towards the nearest window and peeking outside - the cold wind that entered the room sent shivers through your body, causing goosebumps to arise across your skin. It had to be the hour of the Wolf, you could barely see a thing.
There was a group of guards marching towards the entrance of the Red Keep; you heard them bellow, but you were not able to make sense of their words. They ran from one side to another, picking up their swords and shields, giving commands to one another. You grew curious to know the reason behind such a fuss and the answer came quicker than you expected. While you were observing a knight standing beside the arsenal and keeping guard on the perimeter, another man silently approached him- wearing all black, camouflaging in the darkness of the night.
A small part of you told you to look away, but you stood there - eyes fixed on the guard. Curiosity killed the cat.
Out of the blue, the black-clad specter reached for the knight, and before you could discern what the man had done to him, you saw red flooding out under the moonlight - staining his prestigious white cloak. You froze in your place as you saw the guard falling to his knees before his entire body reached the dirt on the floor. The air escaped from your lungs as you witnessed such a gruesome scene, feeling your heart beating frantically in reaction.
It only became worse once the unknown man looked up, right at your window. Right at you, steely eyes glinting.
Immediately, you took a few steps back - your hand covering your mouth and muffling a squeal as soon as you realized what had happened. Chills traveled around your body, and before you realized, your cheeks were soaking with tears of horror and fear. It was suddenly hard to breathe, your chest feeling heavy and tight. That man saw you, he would certainly come after you now.
Your feet kept moving, eyes fixed in the window as you walked backwards, as far as possible from that frightening scene. In that moment, you felt your back hit something cold and hard before two strong arms wrapped around your body and squeezed you between them. You yelped, screaming hysterically with the thought that it will be your turn now - squirming desperately as you tried to be freed from the arms of the person who was holding you down.
Then you heard his voice.
“Princess, it's me!” The familiar voice exclaimed, loosening the grip around your body and allowing you to turn around to see him. He removed his helmet, throwing it onto the floor. “It's me, my sweet princess,” he repeated, this time more calm and with a soothing tone in his timbre. He placed his big, calloused hand on your cheek.
The relief washed over you as you saw your beautiful knight in shining armor standing before you, tense shoulders instantly relaxing as you locked your lilac eyes with his deep brown ones. His gaze was soft, but it still showed signs of his preoccupation for you. His thumb brushed against your skin, wiping the tears that had fallen down your face. You leaned towards his touch and he sighed.
“You're safe with me,” Ser Harwin murmured. “Everything will be okay…” His impressive frame towered over your smaller one; you had to look up at him as your hand wrapped around his wrist.
Harwin was taken aback once he felt your trembling arms wrapping around his armor. You hung from his neck as he picked you up from the floor. One of his hands held your waist, while the other went to your nape - keeping you close to him. The coldness of the metal was pressing against your cheek, and you closed your eyes - silently crying against his shoulder. Your heart fluttered inside your chest once he tightened his grip around your body; you felt safe in his arms.
“Shh… it's fine,” he cooed against your ear. His lips pressed against your head. “No one will hurt you if I'm with you, princess. No one will harm you.”
“What happened? What's going on?” you asked between sobs.
“Some miscreants managed to go through the gates, they're now being secured in the black cells. They’re trying to find those who are inside the Keep,” he explained while he slowly put you back on your feet - a soft whine involuntarily left your lips once you stopped feeling his warmth. “I've come as soon as I heard.”
“Is my family safe? My mother, my siblings? Rhaenyra and the children?”
“They are all being guarded by members of the king's guard,” Harwin replied.
You nodded before you took a look around his face, as if you were trying to search for some wound - just in case he needed your help. “Are you hurt?” A little smile appeared on his handsome face once he noticed your worry. “Did- did they hurt you?”
“No,” he answered. “And you shall not worry about me, princess…”
You pressed your lips in a thin line before murmuring - a bit embarrassed, “you know I'll always worry about you.”
Harwin paused to take a look at you; his heart beating fast with the mere sight of you, feeling like a green boy whenever you were around, staring up at him with those pretty, sparkling eyes of yours. So beautiful, so precious. It was no secret between you two that your feelings had flourished like roses in Spring. Yet, even when the deep affections were obviously mutual, both of you were scared to act on it. It was forbidden, and - somehow - that made it even more tempting for both. How scandalous, King Viserys daughter has the Hand’s son as a paramour.
“Mayhaps your royal highness should go back to sleep,” Harwin suggested. “On the morrow all this would be just a faint memory.”
“I don't think I will be able to do it,” you told him, taking a step back and wiping your tears away. “I lost all my sleep with what I've just seen…it was awful, terrible…”
Harwin approached you again as he noticed your despair - your voice breaking in the middle of your words and your eyes glistening once again by a layer of new tears. He cupped your face, brushing his thumbs against your cheeks.
“It's okay, my sweet angel,” he murmured, pressing his forehead against yours - you closed your eyes. His closeness made your heart beat faster, and the syrupy way the name that came out of his plump lips almost caused you to sigh. “Come here, let's sit down for a second, alright?” Harwin motioned.
Obediently, you grabbed his hand as he guided you through your room, finding a comfortable spot in the large settee right in the middle of your chambers. Once Harwin turned around, he finally noticed what you were wearing; a thin see through nightgown. His eyebrows twitched and mouth went dry. He knew that the right thing was to look away, give the privacy you needed - yet he couldn't manage to take his eyes off of you, his lovely princess. He followed a path from your face, going downwards towards your neck and collarbones - he even imagined how they would look with small marks from his lips printed on them. He continued shamelessly eyeing you, finding your breasts; he felt his throat getting dry once he noticed your pebbled nipples peeking through the white fabric of your nightgown. His mouth watered, resisting the urge to think how they would feel against his tongue. Unexpectedly, he felt his pants getting tighter.
That's when he knew that enough was enough. You were a princess; his princess. You deserve the utmost respect. He couldn't allow himself to think of you in that way, especially on a night like this one.
Harwin cleared his throat, sitting down on the couch and tapping the empty spot by his side - once again, you obeyed. Your body curled by his side, clinging into his armor, laying your head on his chest as his arm went around your shoulder to keep you close. You squirmed a bit, trying to make sense of the feeling between your legs - the one that grew more intense once you noticed the desire on his eyes.
“Close your eyes, try to rest. I'll be here when you wake up,” he promised.
You nodded, making yourself comfortable and doing what he told you to do - and you really tried, yet it seemed impossible for you to take that horrid image off your mind. Your whole body would tremble with the thought of being murdered in the same way. Each time you would close your eyes, that was all you could see. It was torturous, a bone chilling fear that didn't let you rest.
That scarlet blood seeping down white cloth played over and over again in your racing mind.
Before you noticed, you were sobbing again. Harwin, chivalrous as always, grabbed your quivering body and placed you on his lap, rocking your body from side to side as a desperate attempt to try and calm you down. It wounded him to see you like this, so scared and defenseless - he even wondered what he could do to make your anguish go away.
“He saw me… he'll come and try to- to kill me!” you whined - your lower lip shaking uncontrollably. “I cannot- I cannot stop thinking about it all.”
Growing up as a princess left you inside a bubble. Behind the thick walls of the castle you never had to watch or see something as such - the evilness of people. Harwin has always told you that you had a pure heart and soul, always oblivious to the wrongdoings of the people. You never knew how cruel people truly were, and now that you saw it you couldn't stop thinking about it.
“Nothing will happen to you, not if I'm here,” Harwin softly whispered. “I will always protect you, my precious angel.”
But then he thought of his words again; he might protect you from the enemies, from the dangers of the world, but how was he supposed to protect you from the torment that was caused by your own mind? How could he possibly make you forget about it?
He knew the answer, but he knew it was wrong. Terribly wrong.
“Come here.” Harwin invited you to sit on his lap. In any other occasion you would doubt a bit before assenting to do it, but in that moment all you wanted was to feel safe, to feel him against you as he got rid of all your fears with his mere presence - you couldn't resist.
His hands grabbed your hips as he lifted you up and motioned you until you were sitting on top of him - your arms around his broad body as you laid on his shoulder. His hands went to your head, his fingertips softly caressing your scalp while he soothed you again.
For him, it was quite hard to ignore the fact that the only thing in the middle of your nudity was a thin piece of fabric that did nothing to hide your body. He could see it, but you could feel it. At first you just sighed - the coldness of the metal covering his thigh would touch the heat between your legs, which was growing more intense with every passing second. You shivered, holding back a gasp when you accidentally moved your hips.
Out of the sudden, a thunderous sound similar to the one that woke you up was heard again. Your body jumped due to the shock, and your eyes widened with terror.
“Harwin…” you mumbled his name, almost as if you were begging him to make it stop, even when you knew he couldn't do anything more than stay by your side.
“Look at me, Princess,” he replied, his voice becoming slightly raspy as his big hands went to your hips. You felt how he started to pull your nightgown upwards - he had given up his hesitation to do this, defiling the pure little angel. How your doe-eyes and small body contrasted against his large frame, Strong was ensnared. The knight no longer fought against the carnal urges. He needed to take your mind elsewhere, and this was the only way he could think of. You tried to look down as he kept pulling the only layer of clothes that would cover your body - the only thing that separated your warmth from the coldness of the metal on his thigh, and he grabbed your chin, forcing you to keep your eyes on him. “Don't look away from me, angel…”
You obeyed, slightly parting your lips as the fabric brushed against your flesh, and once your cunt was laying naked on top of his leg, you felt a shiver running down your spine. Harwin’s honeyed gaze did not tear from your face at any moment, reluctant to see your most vulnerable places. He felt unworthy of it. He wasn't going to see you, he wasn't going to touch your vulnerable petals - he was just going to let you use him as you please.
“Ser Harwin…” you repeated his name in a gasp as his hands moved your hips on top of him. Gentle movements at first, just to see how you would react; that's when you moaned, feeling metal rubbing directly against your clit. It felt odd, but extremely good.
“Don't stress your mind any further,” he whispered, almost feeling breathless. “Forget about everything, just focus on what you feel…”
With your eyes closed, you placed your hands on his shoulder in order to find some stability when he slightly quickened the pace. The whimper that left your lips would be carved in Harwin’s mind forever, haunting his nights and increasing his need for you. You were there, in front of him looking so angelic, yet so sinful - he was tightening his grip on your hips, digging his fingertips on your flesh as a desperate attempt to hold back; the urge to rip that nightgown was almost unbearable. He needed to touch you, even when it was awfully wrong to do so.
One of his hands left your hip, moving upwards until it cupped your face. Your cheeks were burning beneath his touch, too flustered and shy to hold his haze for too long. You weren't stupid, you knew what was going on and you knew what it meant, yet it was hard for you to care when it felt this good.
Involuntarily, you started to move your hips on your own, growing needy and aching to feel more of him. You longed for his hands on your skin, touching every inch of you until his scent was spread all over your body - yet, he denied you of that, too scared of not being able to stop if he got to fondle your curves.
“Does it feel good?” he asked, his voice so deep and husky, almost making you purr like a kitten between his arms.
“S’good…” you whined in response, mouth agape and letting gasps fall from your lips.
Harwin shifted his position, trying to find some comfortable posture that would make him forget about the ache inside his breeches. He laid back on the settee, spreading his legs and letting you place your hands on his chest. You soon started to move your hips again, moaning his name.
“Fucking hell…” he groaned, now getting a full view of your body. “Go on, ride my thigh…” Those words slipped his lips before he was able to stop them. He felt ashamed, but you loved to hear them, driving your pace harder in reaction.
Your eyes opened and you found Harwin looking up at you as you used him for your own pleasure. He sat there, your weeping cunt coating his armor with your slick as you rubbed yourself on him; you quickly noticed how hard it was for him not to look down - not to look at the sinful view of your swollen bud brushing against him. Instead, his eyes remained on your face, lost in your glossy eyes and swollen lips. He was bewitched with the way your face would express the pleasure you were feeling; Blessed may be the gods for giving him the opportunity to see you like that.
His thumb moved closer to your lips, and you were quick to trap it inside your mouth, sucking and nibbling at it while your movements became more intense. Harwin couldn't resist, and he moaned once he felt your tongue swirling around his digit, imagining how that very same tongue would feel on his cock.
“This feels better than your pillow, doesn't it?” He suddenly groaned. On any other occasion, he would be too ashamed to mention that - the fact that he has heard you pleasuring yourself, yet he couldn't help it… the words slipped out of his mouth before he was able to hold them back. “Do you think of me when you do it?” He asked, almost begging to admit it, longing to hear you say it.
Though you were in no position to speak - too overwhelmed already, you manage to mumble a positive answer, humming as you nodded. A little smirk appeared on the knight's face, making him look even more charming than he already was. You felt your body melt in his arms.
With the motion of your body becoming more intense - faster, your nightgown slowly started to fall down your body, exposing your pebbled nipples to the hungry haze of the man beneath you. The struggle inside his mind was killing him, he wasn't supposed to touch you yet his body craved for it. His mouth watered at the sight while you kept moaning around his finger.
“Touch yourself for me, my angel,” he murmured, as if that would cease his cravings.
He removed his hand from your face, grabbing your wrist and relocating it to your breasts. You moaned at your own touch as you pulled your nipples and played with your own flesh. You leaned forward then, pressing your forehead against his, open-mouthed as you gasped when he grabbed your hips to control your movements once again. Harwin closed his eyes, groaning when you whined and mewled.
You sounded so beautiful.
“Come on, my princess,” he breathlessly said. His lips were merely a few inches away from yours. He fought the urge to devour your swollen lips. “Fucking hell… my angel, keep rubbing your sweet pussy against me. It feels so good, doesn't it? Bet you can’t think of anything else…”
“Harwin, I- I feel…”
“Sh… just let go. Fuck yourself on me, use me as you please. Let me help you empty that pretty head of yours.”
Harwin gave one last look at your trembling body before he started to bounce his leg, thick thigh adding more stimulation that almost made you scream. It was too much - the possessive grip around your hips was making it hard for you to think about anything else. You fantasized about him, about his hands, about his mouth… you longed for his touch, to feel huge calloused hands on your silken skin. You wondered how it would feel to have him inside of you, to let him defile your body. You wanted it so bad.
The thoughts soon started to push you over the edge. The metal covering Harwin’s thigh was soaked with your slick, it was slippery enough to fasten your movements until you couldn't hold it any longer. Your body weight fell forward, your hips twitching as your release oozed out of your weeping cunt, his name falling from your lips like a chant - as a way to thank him. Harwin felt his cock aching underneath his trousers, painfully hard, too damn close to coming undone.
“So good, my beautiful princess…” he whispered as he caressed your hair. His touch burning against now sensitive skin. “Bet you're not thinking about that bad man anymore, are you?”
You could only whine in response. Tired, overstimulated, and sleepy.
“Let's get you to bed now, shall we?”
Harwin grabbed your waist, lifting you up effortlessly as you leaned on his shoulders. Ever the gentleman, he fixed your gown and covered your nudity as he took you to the bed. He placed you delicately over the soft mattress and you hummed when he wrapped your trembling body on the silk sheets.
He leaned back then, but you grabbed his hand before he could go further away. “Please, don't,” you mumbled, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “Stay with me… Lay here.”
“My princess-”
“Please.”
And he couldn't say no.
You heard how he started to get rid of his armor, slowly detaching the pieces of metal from his body until there were just thin layers of clothes covering his body. He cautiously laid behind you - not wanting you to feel the hardness under his trousers, yet you grabbed his hand and forced him to wrap his limbs around your body, feeling the need to have him as close as possible.
Silence fell on the room, just hearing his calm breathing as he closed his eyes and smelled the sweet perfume lingering in your hair. But then, you spoke again.
“Ser Harwin?” you uttered his name so delicately it almost felt like a caress.
“Yes?”
There was a small pause, a moment of doubt. You continued regardless.
“I… I think I might be in love with you.”
Harwin's heart skipped a beat on his chest, and a smile appeared on his face. He felt a joy that he had never felt before.
“Princess?” Now it was him calling your name.
“Yes, sir?”
“I am in love with you.”
Tumblr media
TAGS — @islandfantasydream
follow @by-fairysluna for updates!
917 notes · View notes
kwanisms · 6 months
Text
More Than Just Friends — b.chris
Tumblr media
» stray kids masterlist «
➮ werewolf!Chris × f!Reader wc: 7.4k summary: Chris is a werewolf. His best friend is well aware of this. But what she doesn’t know is that during his heat, he often pictures pinning her down and breeding her. When she comes back home the day before his cycle is due to start, Chris finds it hard to not give into his urges when he smells she’s ovulating. genres/themes/au: fluff, smut; supernatural and lycanthropic themes, f2l (gasp and they were roommates); non idol au, werewolf au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, alcohol consumption, Chris struggles with his horny thoughts and controlling his urges but can you blame the poor guy? Being in heat probably sucks when you aren’t getting laid 💀, sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! special taglist: @yoonguurt , @anyamaris , @wooyoungqueen , @kpop-stories-21 , @xsweetelegantdiasterx , @kookthief , @stardragongalaxy , @millennial-fangirl , @blankdyean , @imwithurmother , @bangchans-angel , @oreoqueen , @yjeonginlvr , @zdgx1 , @shuxsoo , @s00buwu , @queenmea604 , @pochaccomin , @katsukis1wife , @linos-catnip , @wh0r3mir4 Join the taglist! »» Closes tomorrow (30th) at 23:00 CST Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL NOT BE ADDED.
a/n: this was written partially for myself but also for my bestie, Sky. So you're welcome, bestie ily. We're nearing the end of this series so I'll take this time to announce that once I wrap up with Kinktober, the Tales from Camp Holiday Special will start back up with Jun and Vernon's part. If you’d like to sign up for the taglist, you can do so here. If you haven't read the first two installments, you can find those here. And if you have no idea what I'm talking about and read for SVT, you can read the OG Tales from Camp here! Thank you so much for reading and if you liked it, please consider supporting me on kofi (link on my pinned post) and reblogging or commenting! As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.
Tumblr media
smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), unprotected sex (he’s a werewolf and he’s been dreaming about breeding his best friend. You don’t do that tho. You use protection), oral (both receiving), brat taming (f receiving), breeding, heat cycles, daddy kink, dom!Chris, sub!Reader, use of pet names (baby, babygirl, princess, etc), Chris is a very whipped man and loves Y/N very much. If I've missed anything, please let me know!
dialogue prompt: ❛ We’re not just friends and you fucking know it ❜
═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════
Chris is normally a very patient man. He never rushes things, always preferring to take his time in everything he does. He’s always been able to keep his cool, even when things get… a little hairy. As a werewolf, he’s gotten pretty good at controlling his urges as well.
Chris can recall the exact moment everything changed. He can trace his werewolf lineage back to the Joseon period. He is descended from werewolves. There was no camping trip or fateful night where he was stalked and bitten or mauled by some wolf-man beast. 
He was born with his condition, the bloodline being passed down from father to son. The women in the family carried the gene but it was only dominant in males. Only males experienced the Change. Chris was around 11 or 12 when it first happened. He was sitting with some friends, playing video games in the basement when it happened.
He remembered the fever, the sweating, his vision blurring, and then everything went black. When he came to, it was the next morning and he was lying in bed, a cool towel on his forehead and the sun creeping into the room via his window. His mother, who had come to check on him and found him awake, called his father in and the both of them sat down and explained to Chris what was going on.
He was a werewolf. Of course, Chris didn’t understand but as the days turned into weeks, he started to notice the Change even more. His first full moon was approaching and he needed to prepare himself. He started to crave raw meat which his mother was able to provide in the form of rare steak. Chris had never eaten his steaks rare before that point.
Most of the changes were subtle and manageable. The big one was unavoidable. Chris’ first transformation was excruciating but he somehow managed to make it through to the morning and his father told him he had a month to recuperate before it happened again. Chris had hoped that was the end of the surprises but as he got closer to his second full moon, the heat started.
His father had mentioned it but the effects still caught him off guard. He was still only in the beginning stages of puberty so Chris still had a lot to learn about his own anatomy as well as his wolf side. His father assured him everything he was feeling was normal. Every male in the family had gone through this at some point in their lives.
As Chris got older, he was able to manage the changes but the one he still couldn’t seem to overcome other than his transformations was the heat. The intense arousal that seemed to take over all other senses. From sunup to sundown the entire week before his transformations. The urge to fuck anything with a pulse that smelled even remotely attractive.
It was agonizing.
It was worse when he started dating. Once a month, he had to close himself off from his girlfriend for a week. Most of his relationships ended because his partner couldn’t understand and how was he supposed to explain it? How could he explain that he was a werewolf? They’d laugh at him and call him crazy. No one other than his family would understand.
Or so he thought.
Chris was in college when he met you his sophomore year in his economics class. You’d come to class only a moment before the bell rang and despite plenty of seats to choose from, you picked the one next to him. Chris had tried to focus on the lecture but your perfume was enticing. He was close to his heat that day and having such a warm body that smelled as alluring as you did was a horrible combination for him.
He had missed a week of classes after that, emailing his professor who was all too aware of Chris’ nature and understood. Chris’ heat was more intense than any he’d experienced before and he couldn’t keep images of you, the sweet girl who sat next to him once, out of his mind. He hated himself for fantasizing about you, when he didn’t even know your name.
When he returned to class, you were there, in the same spot you’d been before. Chris took his seat in a different spot in an effort to avoid having to look at you for the week’s worth of shame he felt. After the lecture, Chris had hurried out of class to make way to the fitness center for his break between classes until he felt a gentle hand on his arm.
Turning around, he was met with the sight of your smiling face and enchanting scent. ‘Fuck.’
You explained how you noticed he was gone and took notes for him just in case he was sick and then proceeded to hand over a folder full of detailed notes from lectures for the entire week he missed. To say he was shocked was an understatement. Here was a girl who didn’t know his name and she managed to take not only her own notes and complete her own assignments but she took time out of each day to copy her own notes to give to him.
Who did that? Chris was a flabbergasted mess, blushing profusely as he tried to decline your more than generous offer but you didn’t take no for an answer. It was the start of something Chris would come to cherish more than anything else. An unlikely friendship.
Sophomore year at university ended and summer break came. Chris went home to visit his family but kept in touch with you. He wasn’t sure if things would remain the same come junior year but he was pleasantly surprised to walk into his first class of the semester to find you already seated towards the back and pulling out your laptop.
That year was full of study dates at the student cafe, attending football games and cheering for the other team since your university’s team sucked. The holidays brought with it snow and Chris decided to invite you to spend Christmas with his family after he learned yours was going overseas until after the New Year. The drive to Chris’ family home proved difficult as it was only a few days before his heat.
That was the year the truth came out. Chris finally told you everything. He was ashamed but you surprised him even more by accepting him and reminding him that there are some things he can’t control. Chris knew right then that you were going to be a constant in his life. He leaned more on you after that, feeling grateful for the little things you did for him.
Your bond and friendship was made stronger for it.
After graduating, Chris landed a job in the city and was excited when you said you’d be joining him. You both went apartment hunting, agreeing that sharing an apartment was more cost effective than getting two separate places. You both found the perfect one close to both your jobs and quickly settled into a routine. The real challenge came when Chris’ first heat rolled around.
He had a much harder time controlling his urges when you were constantly around and so for the first year, you would spend a week in a hotel but soon that proved to be more than your budget would allow. You were lucky to meet someone at work, a female coworker who understood more than anyone else since her own brother was also a werewolf and she had the room to let you stay for a week.
This had been your routine for the last three years.
“You got everything?” Chris called as you carried your bags out of your room and into the living room where he was sitting on the couch, playing a racing game, his headset resting around his neck. “Yeah,” you replied breathlessly. Chris paused the game and tilted his head back to look at you standing behind him. “You sure?” he asked.
It wasn’t unlike you to forget things and Chris knew this. There were more than a handful of times you’d left for work only to return a few minutes later because you forgot something. It was an endearing trait you had and Chris liked to tease you about it.
“Yes, dad,” you jokingly said, tousling his dark curls. The nickname was meant to be mocking and joking but it always made something stir in his stomach when you said it. Chris would never admit it, even if you were his best friend, but the thought of you calling him daddy lingered in his mind, even long after his heat had passed.
Likewise, you’d never admit it to him but you often thought about adding the extra syllable to the name, if only to see his reaction. Chris wasn’t aware of it but you knew all about his… inclination towards the title. He’d let it slip one night while you were drinking at home, celebrating a promotion with a couple bottles of wine.
[flashback]
“It’s not that bad!” you said in protest as Chris laughed harder, cheeks red from both the action and from the alcohol. “Honestly?” he asked, his laughter subsiding for only a moment. You nodded, your own cheeks warm. “Then it’s not really a degradation kink, is it?” Chris asked.
“It is! But it also feeds into my praise kink,” you said, your filter long gone as you raised your half empty bottle of wine to your lips. It was your second one and both you and Chris had agreed to forego the glasses, opting to drink straight from the bottles.
Chris’ laughter started up again. “Praise kink? Like ‘ oh wow, good job sucking dick?’” he asked through laughs. You narrowed your eyes. “No,” you retorted. “It’s more like ‘you’re doing so well,’ or ‘you take me so well,’” you explained. Chris cocked his head. “So if I were to call you a ‘good little slut’ that would do it for you?”
His question was meant to be curious but you couldn’t control the way your walls clenched around nothing. ‘Shit,’ you thought to yourself as you felt your core heat up, knowing it wasn’t entirely the alcohol’s fault.
There was no denying that your best friend was hot. He’d been hitting the gym since before you met and had probably one of the best bodies you’d ever seen. He was insanely attractive with his strong biceps, muscular thighs and well formed ass. The term cake didn’t even begin to cover it with Chris.
Not to mention those dark curls and dimples that had you weak the moment you met him all those years ago in college. You’d been smitten with him long before even learning his name. And as time went on, you just fell deeper and deeper in love with your best friend.
You couldn’t help it. He was everything you wanted in a man. He ticked every box on your list. He was attractive, funny, smart, kind, and he made you feel safe and secure. He gave the best hugs and he was the clingiest person you’d ever met but you wouldn’t change a single thing about him. Not even the werewolf side of him and the heat that kicked you out once a week.
“Yeah,” you said finally, grabbing the bottle of wine from him and taking a swig. Chris chuckled, shaking his head. “Ah, it’s not that bad,” he replied. “I like being called daddy so, who’s the real weirdo here?”
You froze mid sip, swallowing the wine thickly before your eyes settled on Chris who glanced back at you. “Daddy? Really?” you asked softly. He nodded as he reached for the bottle which you handed to him without a second thought. “Yeah. Weird, right?” he asked before taking a sip.
You leaned in, one hand resting on the back of the couch as you looked up into his face.
“Oh not at all,” you started as he brought the bottle down, resting it on his thigh. “Daddy.”
Chris’ eyes snapped up to meet yours, darkening slightly when he noticed the smirk on your face. The two of you stared at one another before he shook his head. “Don’t play with me,” he said, his voice thick. 
“You’re playing with fire.”
[present day]
The topic changed quickly after that and the next morning you woke with a headache and the knowledge that your best friend had a daddy kink. He of course didn’t remember a thing. Not the sultry stare off or how you almost made the mistake of kissing him that night.
“When are you leaving?” Chris asked, pulling you from your thoughts of the past. He’d taken your hand from his hair and was inspecting your palm, gently running the tips of his fingers over your skin. Something that normally calmed you down but with the memory fresh in your mind, it was having another effect on you entirely.
“Kara should be here soon,” you replied, gently pulling your hand from his grip and picking up your bags to move them towards the door. Chris said nothing, instead looking at the tv. 
He’d never admit it but he had half a mind to ask you not to go. To instead ask you to stay but he knew if you stayed, he’d be unable to control his urges. 
For the last year, he’d been having very intense fantasies about pinning you against the nearest surface and fucking you. Even worse, he had vivid fantasies of breeding you. About fucking you raw, knotting your warm cunt, and filling it with his hot cum.
The thought of his cock buried deep inside your walls as he emptied his balls and then his cock swelling so none of it could escape occupied his mind most of the time when his heat approached. The wolf in him wanted nothing more than to breed you, turn you into his little cum dumpster and pump you full of his cum, hoping it would take and get you pregnant.
Chris knew it was his animalistic instincts, wanting to mate and continue the bloodline. He’d been able to control these urges for the most part. He still masturbated to the thought of breeding you, hiding his shame for a few days. He knew it was wrong to fantasize about you like that but he also knew he couldn’t control what the wolf thought but he could control what he did physically.
“Now you’re sure you have everything?” he asked. You nodded, looking down at your bags. “I’m sure,” you replied. A buzzing interrupted you and you gave your roommate a sheepish smile, moving to answer the intercom. “Come on up,” you said, pressing the button when Kara identified herself.
Chris got up and walked over to the door. It only took a couple minutes for Kara to reach the door, knocking when she did. You opened it and smiled at her, having just finished putting your shoes on. “Hey,” you greeted your coworker who smiled back.
“All ready?” Kara asked. Chris watched as you nodded and started to lift your bags. Kara taking a couple of them. “I’ll see you in about a week,” you said, turning to Chris who stepped down into the entry, hands in his pockets. 
“There’s leftovers in the fridge, just reheat them. Do not cook,” you instructed and Chris rolled his eyes. “You act like I can’t cook,” he mused and you raised your brows. “Have you eaten anything you’ve ever made?” you asked, jokingly. Chris nudged you playfully.
“Make sure to drink water and please do not destroy anything,” you said, holding your hands together in a silent prayer. Chris rolled his eyes, pulling his hands from his pockets and pulled you into a hug, burying his face in your shoulder. “I’ll be fine,” he muttered.
Chris inhaled slowly. He loved the scent of your perfume. It was a scent he’d grown very fond of. His arms tightened around you. He didn’t want to let go. He didn’t want you to leave. He wanted you to stay but you both knew if you did, he might not be able to control himself.
“See you in a week,” you said softly, giving him a small squeeze. Chris reluctantly let go of you, forcing a smile when you pulled back to look at him. “Take care of her,” he said to Kara who sent him a sympathetic smile. “Of course,” she answered. “You take care of yourself too,” she added.
You grabbed the last bag, slinging it over your shoulder and looked back at Chris one last time, giving him an apologetic smile. He waved as you crossed the threshold into the hall and just like that you were gone for a week.
Another week of an empty apartment. Another week of hell without you.
Chris returned to his game, his heart not really in it as he half-assed his way through the campaign before logging off and shutting the tv down. He went to his room to try and get some work done but found that he couldn’t focus.
He was getting restless and he knew one of two things that could help.
He changed into some of his workout gear, grabbing his headphones, phone, and water bottle, and exited the apartment to head to the building’s gym. He usually could push through an hour workout and it usually managed to take the edge off.
He followed his usual routine, stretching, some light cardio followed by weights and then a walk to cool down. As he was on his walk, the door to the gym opened and another tenant came in. Chris had seen her before. She lived on the fourteenth floor. She had recently changed her hair from blonde to a medium brown with highlights. She had her hair pulled up into a ponytail and was dressed in a black sports bra and black leggings.
She looked up to where Chris was, smiling shyly at him as she made her way over to one of the bicycle machines. Chris returned the smile and looked down at the machine controls. He had about ten minutes left on his walk and then he could hit the showers and head back to his apartment and it would be dinner time.
He tried not to notice the scent of the other tenant’s perfume or the way he could smell  sweat starting to permeate the air. He closed his eyes, keeping his hands on the rails as he walked, willing time to move faster. ‘Eight minutes,’ he told himself, peeking at the timer.
He looked up and made eye contact with the woman who had gotten off the bicycle to fill her bottle. She was looking directly at him and Chris couldn’t control the way his body reacted. Heat radiated throughout his body, settling in the pit of his stomach, his dick twitching in his pants.
‘Come on,’ he scolded himself. ‘She’s looking at you. It’s not like she’s flirting. Calm the fuck down.’
Chris looked back up, finding she was still staring at him. ‘Shit.’ He glanced at the timer and saw he had five minutes left. ‘Fuck this. I’m done anyway,’ he told himself as he pushed the stop button. He couldn’t risk popping a boner in the gym simply because a woman looked at him.
He’d shower back at the apartment.
He sprayed a paper towel and quickly wiped down the machine before grabbing his things and heading for the door. He pushed open the door and exited quickly, heading to the elevator and pressing the call button. He waited, shifting from one foot to the other.
He could hear footsteps, and silently prayed for the elevator to arrive sooner. He let out a breath he forgot he was holding as the doors dinged and opened. He stepped into the small room, waving his card over the reader and pressing the button for his floor.
As the doors started to close, a hand shot out to stop them and Chris internally cursed as the woman stepped onto the elevator. He forced a smile, moving into the corner as she waved her card, pressing the button for the fourteenth floor.
The door slowly slid shut, closing them both in and Chris stared at the counter above the doors, ignoring the woman completely. Her floor would come before his. He just had to be patient.
“Hey,” a soft voice said and Chris knew she was speaking to him. He turned his head to find her looking at him. “Hi,” he replied. “I’ve seen you around a few times,” she said, a smile spreading across her face. Chris nodded. “I’ve lived here for a few years,” he admitted.
‘Come on, come on,’ he thought impatiently as the counter continued to rise. “I’m new to the area,” she said suddenly. “Are you from around here?” she asked. Chris nodded wordlessly, keeping his gaze on the numbers over the elevator doors.
“Maybe you could show me around some time,” she offered, moving closer. ‘Fuck,’ he cursed mentally. She was close enough that he could smell the arousal wafting off her. ‘No, no, no,’ he told himself. The moment her hand touched his arm, Chris jumped just as the doors opened on the thirteenth floor.
‘Fuck this’ he thought and pushed past as someone else stepped onto the elevator and he walked down the hall, heading for the stairwell. He’d rather walk than be trapped in a steel box with a horny woman this close to his heat.
Once he finally reached his floor, he made sure the floor was deserted as he headed for the door, letting himself in. He could breathe easily as he kicked his shoes off and headed past the kitchen, dropping his  water bottle on the counter as he headed for his room.
He stripped and got into the shower, turning the water on, letting the stream heat up and wash his body. Once he was done showering, he got out, dressed and sat down at his computer, putting his headset on and turning on some music and getting a headstart on some work.
When his stomach growled, he cursed, pulling his headphones off and got up, exiting his room and making his way into the kitchen. He grabbed one of the glass containers from the fridge and pulled it out to inspect it. ‘Lasagna,’ he noted with a smile as he took the lid off and scooped the contents out onto a plate to heat it up.
Once the food was hot, he carefully pulled the plate out and took a seat at the kitchen counter, grabbing a fork as he did and started to eat. He was eternally grateful for you, making food for him when you left for a week. It wasn’t that he couldn’t cook, he could. He just preferred it when you did.
As he chewed, he wondered what you were up to with Kara. Were you eating dinner as well?
“I can’t believe he still thinks you’re a lesbian,” Kara said, giggling as you took a sip of your wine. “I’ve told him numerous times I’m not,” you replied. “I don’t understand why he still thinks that.”
Kara shook her head. “Who knows,” she replied, glancing down at her empty glass. “Oh, time for a refill!”
She got up, waiting for you to down the rest of your wine and took your empty glass to the kitchen to refill them both. The two of you had ordered pizza, neither one of you wanted to cook, especially after you had cooked an entire week's worth of meals for Chris.
“What do you think Chris is up to?” Kara asked, pulling you out of your thoughts. “Oh, he’s probably playing video games,” you replied as Kara poured your favorite wine into your glass and placed the bottle back in the fridge. She walked back over with both glasses, handing yours over as she took a seat.
“So,” she started, taking a sip of her wine. “Let me see this presentation,” she added and you set your glass down, rushing over to your laptop bag and pulling it out, moving back to sit on the couch, setting your laptop on the coffee table.
Kara continued sipping on her wine as you opened your laptop and logged on. You signed into and pulled up the presentation powerpoint you’d been working on all week for Monday’s meeting. It wasn’t anything fancy but you were pretty proud of it.
Kara looked over it, complimenting your skills and work, making small comments on certain parts. “I really like this,” she said, pointing at one of the slides. “You really made a good point here.” You felt pride swell in your chest until your laptop dinged, a small notification indicating your battery was low.
“I swear, the battery on this thing dies so fast,” you groaned as you got up and headed over to your bag to grab the charger. You unzipped the pocket only to find your charger wasn’t there. “What the…” you trailed off, starting to check all the pockets of your laptop bag but no charger in sight.
“What’s wrong?” Kara asked. “I can’t find my charger,” you replied. “Did you bring it?” Kara asked, getting up from her seat and walking over. “I thought I did,” you replied, feeling annoyed and angry with yourself for forgetting when Chris had asked you multiple times if you had everything.
“You can use mine,” Kara said but you shook your head. “You have a Macbook,” you reminded her. “This is an HP.” Kara swore under her breath. “I gotta go back home,” you said softly. Kara looked up at you. “Are you sure?” she asked. You nodded.
“I need that charger,” you answered. “Especially if I’m gonna be here for a week.” Kara nodded and got up. “I’ll drive you,” she said and you shook your head. “You’ve had like a whole bottle,” you reminded her. “I’ve only had a glass. I’ll drive. You stay here. I’m just gonna run back and get it and then I’ll be back.” Kara nodded as she grabbed her keys and handed them to you.
“Be careful,” she said as you grabbed your purse, making sure you had your phone. You headed to the door, slipping your shoes and coat on. “I’ll be back in a bit,” you called and exited her apartment, making your way to the elevator and pushing the button.
You fished your phone out of your purse, opened Chris’ message thread and sent him a text.
You: i did what i said i wouldn’t. I forgot my laptop charger 💀
You: i’m on my way back to get it.
You: i’ll be quick. Just in and out
Placing your phone back in your purse, you stepped onto the elevator, pushing the button for the garage and waited as the doors shut and the lift descended, heading for the basement. You found Kara’s car, unlocking it and getting in.
The drive to your apartment didn’t take long and you pulled into the designated parking space in your garage, parking and shutting off the engine. You got out, leaving your purse in the car and locking it. ‘In and out, Y/N,’ you reminded yourself as you headed for the elevator.
The ride up to your floor was quiet, the sun had set and most people were already out enjoying the Friday nightlife. The elevator dinged, doors opening as it arrived on your floor and you stepped off the lift, heading for your apartment door.
You unlocked it, letting yourself in. You expected to see Chris but didn’t see him perched on the couch playing games. ‘Maybe he’s in his room,’ you told yourself as you walked through the apartment and to your room.
Turning on the light, you saw the culprit lying innocently on your desk and you glared at it, walking over to grab it and headed towards the door. As you exited your room, you heard Chris call out.
You turned the knob and looked into his room. “I thought I heard you, he said with a chuckle. “I sent you a text,” you answered, peering into his room. He was sitting at his computer, headphones hanging around his neck as he finished whatever he was working on.
“Forget something?” he asked, sounding amused at your forgetfulness. You nodded. “Yeah,” you replied. “I forgot my laptop charger,” you answered. Chris turned to look at you. “It’s always something,” he joked and you smiled sheepishly.
“Sorry,” you said, chuckling. “I’d forget my head if it wasn’t attached.” Chris smiled as he removed his headphones from around his neck, looking over at you. “It’s fine,” he said softly, moving to get up. You pushed the door open further as he approached you. “Do you need anything before I leave?” you asked.
Chris opened his mouth to respond but a sudden strong smell hit him. It was like someone had opened a bottle of vanilla extract and placed it under his nose. He knew that smell all too well. It made every nerve in his body burn. It made his pupils enlarge, his throat burn, and an intense heat form in the pit of his stomach. Lust and desire burned, the line blurring into the primal need to mate.
You hadn’t been careful enough. Neither of you had but then again this had never happened before. How didn't this come up? How hadn’t this happened before? Three years living together and this had never, ever happened? Either you were very lucky or you were always away when it happened.
Chris’ fingers curled into his palm, knuckles turning white as his nails dug into his skin in an attempt to ground himself but what normally worked had never been tested in this situation before.
Chris was about to start his heat and you… you were ovulating.
You watched as your best friend froze. “Chris?” you asked softly. You were surprised when he looked at you, his eyes darkening. “You need to leave,” he said, his voice low and dangerously so. “Chris? What’s wrong?” you asked, taking a step forward.
“Don’t!” your best friend growled. You froze, eyes widening. He’d never spoken to you like that before. “Chris you’re starting to worry me, what’s wr—” before you could finish your question, your best friend had closed the distance and grabbed you, pinning you against the wall next to the door.
“Chris!” you gasped, hands moving to his shoulders, gripping his shirt. “What’s gotten into you?”
His heat was close but it wasn’t supposed to start yet. He’d always been good about controlling his urges so what was different this time?
“I’m sorry,” Chris said softly, his head drooping as he struggled against his own urges. “This has never happened before.” You tried to push him away but he was much stronger than you were. “Why are you acting like this? You’ve always had a hold of yourself,” you continued. “You’re ovulating,” Chris interrupted. Your eyes widened.
“H-how did you know?”
Chris chuckled dryly. “I can smell it,” he answered. One of his hands moved up to your cheek as he raised his head. “I can smell it and it’s driving me crazy,” he continued. You felt one of his knees wedge between your thighs, pressing against your core. “It’s making me want to do things to you.”
You felt a shiver run up your spine. ‘Do things? What kind of things?’
“L-like what?” you whispered, swallowing thickly.
Chris leaned in, nuzzling against your cheek as his lips ghosted over your skin, stopping near your ear. “Would you be mad if I said exactly what I wanted to do to you?” he asked softly. You shook your head. Though you wouldn’t say it, you welcomed it, wondering just what was going on in his head.
“Tell me,” you replied.
You felt Chris nuzzle into your neck, sniffing eagerly. “I want to rip those cute lace panties of yours and stuff that sweet little pussy with my cock.” As if punctuating his words, Chris leaned in, pressing his thigh more firmly against your core.
You let out an involuntary whimper, causing him to groan in your ear. “I want to…” he trailed off. “No, I need to pin you down on the bed,” he said, making you gasp as he pressed his thigh even harder against you. 
“Pin you down and fuck you until I fill you with so much cum. I need to breed you.,” he continued, lips ghosting over your skin. “Breed you like you’re the one in heat.” You let out another gasp, feeling one of his hands move to grab your ass, sneaking under your skirt.
“And of course you had to wear a skirt, didn’t you?” he growled. “I bet you knew it would drive me crazy. That I’d be able to smell everything.” You moaned into his ear as his hand continued to knead your ass, nails digging into your flesh 
“I’ll bet you planned this, didn’t you? I bet your laptop charger isn’t even here,” he scoffed as if it wasn’t lying on the floor in the hallway where you’d dropped it. “Chris,” you whined, moaning as his fingers dug into the flesh of your ass. “Oh shit,” he groaned.
“Say my name like that again,” he dared you. “Say that again, baby. Moan my name and I’ll take you right now.”
A thick silence fell over the two of you as Chris pulled back, eyes searching your face, neither one speaking nor making a move until you finally cleared your throat and spoke. “Chris, we can’t,” you started, looking between his eyes. “W-we’re friends,” you added, letting out a yelp as Chris quickly backed up to create enough space to turn you around to face the wall before pinning you against it, pressing his erection into your back.
“You feel that?” he asked, grinding against you. “You feel what you do to me? What you’ve been doing to me since that first day in economics?” he asked. “I’ve wanted you ever since you sat next to me. Wanted to fuck you raw and pump you full.”
“We’re not just friends and you fucking know it,” he growled in your ear. Moaning, you pushed back against him, earning another deep growl.
“Don’t play with me,” he snapped. “I’m not playing…” you trailed off. “Daddy.” The name caused a chain reaction. Chris wrapped an arm around your waist from behind, lifting you easily and carrying you over to his bed where he deposited you face down.
You tried to turn over but he was quick to stop you, pushing your skirt up to expose your lace covered core. He quickly grabbed the material and tugged, ripping it easily. “Chris!” you gasped but the next second you were crying out as he landed a slap to your ass.
“Don’t speak until I tell you to,” he growled. You felt his fingers glide up and down your slit, gathering your arousal before pushing into your cunt. You let out a groan as he started to slowly pump his fingers before removing them. “Chest to the bed,” Chris instructed. “But keep your ass up.”
You did as he said, lowering your shoulders until your chest rested against the mattress. In that time, Chris removed his hat, tossing it aside as he knelt on the mattress behind you, hands grabbing your hips. He leaned closer, taking a deep inhale. “Fuck, I’m gonna ruin this pussy,” he growled. His tongue ran along your slit, from your clit up and back down, toying with the bundle of nerves, his nose bumping against your entrance.
Your fingers dug into the sheets as you moaned, pushing back against his face. Chris pulled back delivering a sharp smack to your thigh. “Hold still,” he barked. “Do that again and I’ll fuck your hole and not let you cum.”
You whined, wiggling your hips in a silent plea for more. Chris pushed you onto your side before flipping you onto your back, grabbing your hips and pulling your core to his face, burying it in your pussy, tongue ravishing your clit. Your thighs tried closing but Chris wrapped his arms around your thighs, holding them open as he licked at and sucked on your clit, drawing you closer to your climax.
“Shit, Chris!” you gasped, your hand moving to comb through his curls.
“M’gonna cum.”
Chris didn’t relent, flicking his tongue against your clit until you came undone under him, crying out as your orgasm crashed over you. You tried to shy away from his mouth but he held you still, never stopping as he drew you to another orgasm.
As you came down from the second, he finally let go of your thighs, pulling back to wipe his chin and taking ahold of the collar of his shirt and yanking it off over his head, tossing it aside. “I want you to ride my tongue but it’ll have to wait,” he said in a husky voice as his hands moved to undo his jeans, unbuckling but not removing his belt before unbuttoning and pulling down the zipper of his pants.
“Come here,” he said, holding out his hand and pulling you up when you took it. “Open your mouth,” he added as he pushed his jeans down around his thighs. You did as he asked, keeping your gaze on his face as he pulled his erection free from the confines of his underwear.
“Keep your mouth open for me,” he added, taking his cock in his hand, giving himself a couple strokes before guiding the tip past your lips, the weight heavy on your tongue. His free hand moved to your hair, taking a fistful and guiding your head. “Get to work, baby girl,” he murmured.
“Show daddy how you use your mouth.”
Your scalp stung, eyes watered and your throat hurt by the time Chris finally pulled your mouth off him. He’d forced his cock down your throat more than once and even fucked your throat a few times, making you gag. What little makeup you had on was ruined, tear stained cheeks and swollen lips but to Chris you were stunning.
“Lay back for me,” he ordered, discarding his pants and underwear, watching as you pulled your top off and threw it aside, scooting into the middle of his bed. Chris crawled over you, taking your lips in a searing kiss as his hands pushed your knees apart to accommodate him.
Your hands moved to his hair as he guided the head of his cock to your dripping entrance, pulling back just enough to make eye contact. “I want to watch your face as I enter you,” he growled. “Watch your eyes roll back into your head as I fill you with my cock.”
You moaned loudly as he pushed into you, stretching your cunt with his girth, inch by inch until he was buried inside your walls, groaning about the warmth and how tight you felt. It was taking all his strength to not start slamming into you immediately.
“I’m gonna give you a few minutes to adjust and then I’m gonna hold you down against this mattress and fuck you until you cum,” he gave you a shallow thrust, enjoying the gasp that escaped you. “And then I’m going to flip you over, ass up and fuck you until I cum and fill this pussy. You understand me?”
You nodded silently but that wasn’t good enough for him. Chris grabbed your face. “When I ask you a question, you answer me with your words. Don’t make me say it again.”
“Yes,” you answered quickly. “Yes, what?” he asked, tilting his head. “Yes, daddy,” you whispered. Chris let go and smirked down at you. “Good girl.”
No sooner than the words left his lips, his hands were on your hips, holding them in place as he started to pull out and snap his hips against yours, driving his cock into your cunt repeatedly. Your thighs tightened around his waist, prompting him to growl and halt his movements.
You were about to ask what the problem was when he took your ankles and placed your legs over his shoulders. The new position allowed you to feel more, moaning louder when he pounded into you harder. “Oh holy shit,” you gasped, feeling the head of his cock hit the soft gummy spot that had you seeing stars.
“Right there?” he asked, angling his hips and hitting the same spot, making you cry out.
He repeatedly hit the same spot over and over, moving his hand to rub circles against your clit with his thumb. “That’s it princess,” he huffed. “Cum all over daddy’s cock.” You let out a mewl, walls fluttering as you came. One of your hands moved to grab Chris’ wrist, trying to ground yourself as the aftershocks of your orgasm rolled over you.
With each pass over your clit with his thumb, Chris watched your body seize up and chuckled before pulling his cock from your abused hole.
He quickly turned you over, pulling your hips up and taking himself in his hand, stroking a couple times before pushing back into you. This position allowed for all of his cock to fit inside you, making you moan into the sheets, fingers curling into the fabric.
Chris took your hips in his hands, pulling out and snapping forward, his hips hitting your ass with each thrust. He set a relentless and merciless pace, grunting with effort as he slammed into you. The sheets muffled your cries and screams of pleasure as he allowed his animalistic urges to take over.
‘Breed. Breed. Breed,’ the beast in his mind said. Chris let out a low groan, almost like a growl as he pounded into you. Leaning over your back, he slammed his hips into you, burying his cock deep inside your walls before he started to roll his hips, earning a deep moan from you.
“Once I’m done with you,” he panted. “You aren’t going anywhere. You’ll stay here and I’m going to fuck you raw every night. Pump you full of cum and breed you. Fill you with so much cum it’ll have to take. Fuck you until I get you pregnant and then you’ll be mine.”
You moaned, walls clenching around his cock. You felt his hand in your hair, fingers curling into a fist before he pulled back, lifting your face from the sheets and allowing your moans to fill the room. “You want that, baby? You want daddy to turn you into his little breeding bitch?”
“Oh fuck, daddy yes!” you whimpered. “Please fill me!” Chris growled, letting go of your hair and moving his hand to your shoulder, pinning your chest down. You turned your head to the side, each thrust drawing a whimper from you.
“Daddy’s gonna fill you baby girl, cum inside you until it spills out and then I’ll just push it all back in,” he grunted. “Don’t want to waste a single drop.” Your hand moved to grab the wrist of his hand that was pressed against the mattress near your head.
“That’s right,” he groaned. “You’re mine. All mine and no one else’s.” You lifted your head, managing to turn and make eye contact with him. “I’ve always been yours, daddy,” you breathed. Chris growled, pressing his chest against your back and sinking his teeth into your shoulder.
You moaned, walls clenching around his cock as he rammed into you over and over. He lifted his head, lips close to your ear. “Mine,” he growled. “Mine, mine, mine!”
You pushed back to meet his thrusts and screamed as he slammed into you one last time, groaning into your ear as he came, releasing thick strands of hot cum into your cunt. You moaned as more and more cum spilled into your pussy. You had never known a man to have that much cum but then again, Chris wasn’t an ordinary man.
At the same time he was emptying his load into you, his cock started to swell inside, lodging itself in your walls. “Chris,” you whimpered. “What’s—” You heard him shush you, pressing kisses to your shoulder. “It’s okay,” he said reassuringly. “It’s normal. It’s my body’s way of ensuring it takes.”
“Ensuring what takes?”
Chris chuckled, his lips ghosting over your skin. “Ensuring my cum gets you pregnant,” he answered. You let out an uneasy chuckle. “And if it doesn’t take?” you replied. Chris hummed and pressed several more kisses against your shoulder before leaning in to whisper in your ear.
“I guess we’ll just have to keep trying then.”
Tumblr media Tumblr media
ⓘ Graphics made by me. Content and support banners made using a template by cafekitsune. I do not allow reposts, translations, or continuations of my works. All writing and graphics are ©️ kwanisms.
2K notes · View notes
sapphire-writes · 1 year
Text
Playing with Fire
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader x Aegon II Targaryen
summary: You travel to the capital, as Prince Aegon intends to take a wife at the command of the King. Much to your surprise, more than one Targaryen prince catches your eye.
warnings: none for this part other than some sensual themes
word count: 4k
A/N: as Katherine Pierce once said, "it's okay to love them both😏"
masterlist
Tumblr media
King Viserys announced a ball, to be held within the Red Keep, crafted for his eldest son Aegon to choose a bride. Maidens traveled from all corners of the seven kingdoms and beyond, to attend and vie for Prince Aegon’s affections. You were to be no exception, much to your displeasure. 
Your family had carted you off to the capital, though you put up quite a fight. You did not wish to marry yet, let alone marry Prince Aegon. You had heard nothing but promiscuous rumors about him from ladies returning from their times in the capital. 
Nearly all returned with a story about Prince Aegon; stealing to their rooms in the night or pulling them to darkened corridors only for them to leave with lips bruised from kissing and ruffled skirts. The prince was said to be quite lustful and gluttonous. 
You would listen, eyes wide, as they recalled their stories with blushing cheeks and girlish giggles. One lady even showed the lovebites Prince Aegon had adorned her neck with, pushing back her hair and revealing the purple bruises that had just begun to fade to a deep jade color. 
Prince Aegon was reminiscent of a wolf in your mind, or perhaps a dragon like that of his house sigil. An all-powerful creature who devoured whomever he desired. 
Alas, as the only daughter of your family, it was time for you to find a husband. A prince was too enticing of an offer for your family to keep you at home. You simply would have to avoid Prince Aegon and hope he would not take a liking to you. You figured it should be easy enough to do, he would surely be preoccupied with the dozens of ladies who had come for him.
Still, the night of the ball you found yourself clinging to the corners of the room. Your mother had traveled to the capital with you and was eager to present you to the dragon prince. She had a new gown tailored for you, the soft pink color of a rose from the Reach. Your hair was done in an elaborate style, with silver pins that shone like stars in the candlelight. You slouched into the crowd, spotting her looking for you. 
“Seven hells,” you murmured to yourself, ducking behind a servant carrying a tray of empty goblets. You can hear her voice above the music, calling your name. The serving girl gives you a startled look and you smile at her, apologetically.
You moved swiftly to avoid her, taking cover behind Cassandra Baratheon who is eagerly looking for Aegon. She glances down at you, blue eyes narrowing. She looks breathtakingly beautiful, clad in a sapphire-colored gown that matches her eyes, and makes her pale skin luminescent. Her dark hair is pulled back from her face, spilling down her back. Cassandra has come dressed the part of a princess. 
“What are you doing?” she asks, nose wrinkling. She waves the fan she holds, the fabric matching that of her gown. She barely acknowledges your presence, long neck craning over the crowd hunting for Prince Aegon. 
“Hiding,” you hiss, looking around nervously. Cassandra rolls her eyes folding her fan and whacking you with it on the arm. 
“Ouch!” you yelp, swatting at her. 
“Get away from me!” she scolds, “you shall make me look foolish!”
You make a face at the Baratheon, sticking out your tongue, before dashing to the opposite side of the room. You had briefly resided in Storm’s End when you were a child, as a ward to the Baratheons. Needless to say, you and Cassandra did not get along well. 
You heard your mother’s call once more and panicked, as the crowd began to part. Glancing to your left, you spotted a long table covered with food for grazing guests. The tablecloth was long and dusted against the floor. In your panic you dropped to your knees, and climbed under the table, fixing the tablecloth behind you. 
You exhaled a deep breath as you pushed yourself back, sitting completely under the table. You could hear the crowd around you, but you were hidden. Well, almost. In your haste your slipper had come off, and it lay sticking halfway out from under the table. 
Your eyes widened as you reached for it before it was pulled from your sight. Lifting the table cloth you stuck your head out to address the thief. 
Prince Aemond stood inspecting your slipper, brows furrowed in confusion. He looked very regal, in an outfit such a deep, rich green it almost appeared black. Gold trimmed the cuffs of his sleeves, and down the front of his shirt. You were admiring him until his violet eye met yours.
You had heard of the accident that happened to Aemond when he was a boy but you had never met him. A deep scar marred half his face before disappearing underneath an eyepatch and reappearing through his brow. Aemond’s face twisted in confusion as he looked down at you. 
“What are you doing, my lady?” he asked, voice stiff but polite. He spoke as though he could not be bothered by your foolishness. 
“Please, my prince,” you said in a hushed whisper, reaching for your shoe. Aemond did not move, still perplexed. You could hear your mother’s voice, as she chatted, followed by Cassandra Baratheon’s irritating call. 
“Why are you under- ooof!” 
Aemond was not someone who was easily surprised. But surprise him you did. Without thinking you slammed your hand into the hard muscles of his stomach, grabbing his shirt. The prince doubled over and you pulled him under the table with you. 
Aemond looked at you incredulously, shocked that he was overpowered by a maiden.
“I do apologize, my prince,” you said in earnest, hoping he would spare you his fury. You wore a desperate expression on your face, your eyes pleading. People had lost their hands entirely for putting them upon royalty, and you were rather fond of your extremities. You continue to stare at him, eyes wide, as you are crouched on your knees. 
Aemond had no idea who you were, other than some noble lady. His lips parted as he watched you, his hand still holding your slipper. Your eyes dropped to it. 
“May I have my shoe?” you asked, and Aemond jerked his head in a nod, but did not return your slipper. He felt very confused with the entirety of the situation. Aemond was not used to such tomfoolery. 
“My lady,” he began, “why are you hiding under a table?”
You wet your lips, eyes still nervous. You swallow before answering, still nervous that the prince may drag you by your hair to the nearest black cell. 
“I am hiding.”
“That is obvious,” he said, the corners of his mouth turning upwards, “from whom?”
“My mother,” you say, flinching as a shadow moves past, “she wishes to introduce me to Prince Aegon.”
Aemond hums, tucking a knee towards his chest and resting his arm atop it. He does not need further explanation. His eye roams over your form, over the dress you wear, and the layer of sweat that coats your forehead and throat from your antics. Your hairstyle is disheveled, several pins seem to be out of place, but the ones that remain sparkle in the light that sneaks through the tablecloth. 
You meet his eye and feel your cheeks turn red at his attention. He is devilishly handsome, with his silky, long silver hair and purple eye that seems to peer into your soul. The eyepatch and scar only make him seem more dangerous, causing your palms to sweat nervously. 
“I apologize, it was rather rude to involve you,” you tell him, glancing towards the floor.
Aemond chuckles, the sound coming from deep in his chest. You smile weakly at the sound, having not expected it. 
“This is the most interesting thing that has occurred all evening,” he assures you, “unless, of course, you count Lady Tyrell’s gown mishap.”
He watches your eyes widen and mouth open at his shared gossip. Aemond smiles, happy to have engaged you. He watches as the nervousness begins to fall from your face, and your shoulders relax. 
“What happened?” you ask, brows lifting in curiosity. 
“One of her sleeves caught on Lord Manderly’s broach, and tore,” he tells you, watching you cover your mouth to stifle your giggles. 
“Disasterous indeed,” you snicker and Aemond feels his lips tug into a smile. You laugh once more at the thought. A moment goes by, the pair of you sitting in silence. 
“You are free to leave my prince,” you tell him, “I do not mean to hold you, hostage.” 
“It is quite alight,” he says, earnestly, “I am enjoying the distraction.”
Aemond found this whole affair a slap in the face. Aegon was not interested in marriage, nor was he suited for it. He would rather indulge with any lady, servant, or whore he could get his hands on. 
Yet their father insisted on this spectacle for Aegon to take a wife. If he did fail to do so, Aemond knew the small council was plotting for Aegon to marry their sister Helaena. Aemond did not know which plan he hated more. 
A hand reached the edge of the tablecloth and your mother’s face became visible. Behind her stood a smirking Cassandra Baratheon. 
“Y/N,” your mother hissed, pulling you from under the table. Embarrassment was evident in her voice and you hung your head as she scolded you. 
“There, I told you Lady (Y/L/N),” Cassandra said, in a nasally voice. You scowled at her, as her face twisted in confusion as Aemond exited the table behind you. He stands holding his arms crossed behind his back. You did not realize how tall he was, he towers above you. 
“She behaves like a child,” Cassandra snaps, a shrewd smile on her lips. 
“You are a horrible cow, Cass,” you hiss at her, causing her to sneer. The look fades as she takes in Prince Aemond behind you and she bats her lashes, fanning herself. 
“Oh, my,” your mother said, looking towards Prince Aemond, “your grace.”
She begins to curtsey but Aemond waves her off.
“No need, my lady,” he told her, offering you both a smile, “I was just delighted by your daughter’s company.” Aemond holds your slipper out to show your mother. You glance towards the floor, your bare foot hidden under your skirts. 
“The lady simply lost her slipper, it rolled under the table you see,” he lies to your mother, who nods at his words. A starstruck expression is plastered on her face as she gazes up at the handsome prince. A dreamy smile plays on her mouth. 
You purse your lips, fighting a smile that threatened to appear. Aemond turned to you then, violet eye gleaming, as though acknowledging the secret he kept for you.  
“May I?” he asked, gesturing towards your foot. You nodded and he knelt before you. Aemond curled his hand around your ankle, lifting your foot from the floor and helping you inside your slipper. 
“There,” he said, looking up at you, “no harm done.”
You hear Cassandra scoff behind you, but your mother looks pleased. 
“Thank you, my prince,” you tell Aemond, as he stands. You feel fluttering in your stomach as he holds your gaze. Your ankle tingles where his hand has been.
“I do hope we run into each other again, during your stay in the capital,” he tells you.
“I should like that, very much, my prince.”
“Aemond,” he insists. 
“Aemond,” you say, enjoying the sound of his name on your tongue, with no titles attached. You smile tentatively as his name lingers in the space between you. 
Aemond bids your mother farewell and departs toward the other side of the room. Your mother locks her hand around your arm. 
“That is not the prince we came for,” she scolds, but you can tell Aemond still has her flustered. Her face is flushed, as though she is remembering her youth. She fans herself with a gloved hand. 
“You are blushing, mother,” you tease and she shoos you away, “where is Prince Aegon then?”
You glance around the room, and the only other silver-crowned head you spot is that of Princess Helaena who is engaged in a dance with her grandsire. Your mother instructed you earlier to befriend the princess, something she would surely remind you to do on the morrow as well. 
“You are too late,” Cassandra calls, fanning herself once more. You roll your eyes at her eavesdropping. Ever the nosy gossip, Cassandra is. 
“The prince has left for the night. I assume he found someone to entertain him,” Cassandra says, feigning that this does not bother her. You see through her though; Cassandra believes she is already married to Aegon in her mind. 
You flush at her words. Targaryens seem to have insatiable appetites. You bring your gaze back to your mother who frowns. 
“Do you hear how she talks of him?” you ask, “do you truly wish a man like that for me?”
Your mother scoffs at your concerns. 
“He would give you a dozen children then, several grandchildren for me,” she says, patting your arm. Your eyes widen in horror at the thought. Your mother has no qualms with you marrying a lecherous man, then. She sees your expression and gives you a look of a mother’s aggravation. 
“Do not look at me like that,” she tells you, “you need not be scared of the marriage bed.”
“Easy for you to say,” you tell her, sighing, “you are not a maiden.”
“I was once,” she says, tone hardening, “when the time is right, I shall tell you all you need know. It need not be frightening.” 
You remember the bruises on the lady’s neck and know your mother must be lying to you. How could they be born of something pleasurable? 
“May I go to bed, now that the prince is gone?” you ask and your mother sighs, before shaking her head. 
“I have been without your company all evening, you shall stay a while longer.”
You stay much longer than you intend, getting lost in gossip with your mother and other lords and ladies of court. You are even able to introduce yourself to Princess Helaena, who captures your attention with her latest fascination with an insect found on the islands of the Jade Sea. She had been reading about it, and her eyes lit up when talking about it.  
The hour is late when your mother leaves you to retire to the guest chambers you share. You linger behind to hear Lord Beesbury finish a tale. You find yourself wandering the Red Keep, searching for your chambers. 
You pass by several goldcloaks who murmur to you, politely. You yawn, as you turn a corner, walking down a corridor lit by recently revived torches. The servants of the Keep must have been told to refresh them with all the late running festivities. 
A noise catches your attention; the squeaking hinge of a door being opened followed by a giggle. The shape of a lady appears, her green dress sparkling in the light. She has red hair, and you recognize her but cannot recall her name. Your eyes widen as she smiles, hand outstretched behind her, holding onto someone. 
She pulls her partner towards her, and your eyes nearly pop out of your skull. The silver hair is unmistakable. His hair is shorter than his brother, though he wears a similar outfit to that of Aemond. His shirt is untucked and you notice the laces of the lady’s corset are loose, as though restrung in haste. Prince Aegon grins as he reaches to cup the lady’s cheeks, covering her lips in a passionate kiss. 
You stand frozen and unnoticed by the pair, entranced by their embrace. The lady makes a whimpering noise as Aegon’s hand slips down her throat, the other holding her waist against him. He removes his lips from hers, only to bring them to the side of her throat. Your lips part as you watch him kiss her neck as though it were her lips. The lady seems to enjoy this, tangling her hands in his short locks.
You are so hypnotized by Aegon’s actions, you don’t notice when the lady’s eyes open to a half-lidded stare. Her eyes widen as notices you observing them. The lady shrieks, pushing Aegon away from her. 
“What?” he grumbles, as the lady smoothes her skirt, fleeing the scene with a reddened face. Aegon watches as she rushes by you, his violet eyes meeting yours. 
Your eyes are wide, lips parted in shock, and you feel as though your feet are rooted to where you stand. Though your mind is telling you to run away, following the fleeing lady, you stare at the prince. Aegon stands shorter than his brother, his shoulders slouched in a carefree manner. His hair is wavy, the strands ending near his jaw. Like his brother, he is painfully handsome. A curse all Targaryens seem to bear. 
Aegon wets his lips, which are a shining feature of his face. Reddened and plumped from kissing, begging to be kissed again. It is as though the gods molded them for kissing and kissing alone. Aegon’s mouth opens, and his brows come together, as he takes a lazy step toward you. 
“I do not know you,” he says, his lips downturned into a pout. You swallow hard.
“I am Lady Y/N, my prince,” you tell him, clasping your hands in front of you, trying to stop them from fiddling nervously. 
“Lady Y/N,” he says your name slowly, as though tasting it. “I did not see you at the ball.”
“I was there, my prince,” you tell him, knowing your efforts of avoiding him were in vain, “it appears I did not make an impression.”
His lips turn into a smile, revealing a row of shiny white teeth. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip drawing your eyes toward his mouth.
“I should bid you goodnight, my prince,” you say urgently, turning to leave. 
“Wait!” he calls, a quickens his steps until coming to face you. 
His eyes narrow, a smile still playing on his face.
“How did I not see you?” he asks, “I always remember a pretty face.”
You feel your face flush. No matter how much he frightens you, flirtation with a prince is not something you are used to. 
“I do not know, my prince,” you tell him, flustered by his compliment. 
He sinks his teeth into his lower lip as though enjoying how you squirm beneath his gaze. 
“Come have a drink with me,” he offers, “and we can review your evening, and why we did not make each other’s acquaintance.”
Insatiable indeed. The prince was just with a maiden, and yet here he stands, planning his next course. He holds out a hand to you, a glimmer of mischief in his eye. You can picture the ladies who stood in your shoes before you, who said yes to him. Who indulged him in the pleasures of the known world. You could do so too if you so desired. His voice is inviting, a sensual caress. 
“May I speak freely, my prince?” you ask and he nods, curiously.
“I am quite frightened.”
Aegon’s head snaps back at that. 
“Frightened?” 
You nod. 
He takes a step back from you, hands held out in surrender. 
“There is no need to be frightened, my lady,” he tells you, “I wish you no harm, only the pleasure of your company.”
Your breath comes out shakily. 
“I do not wish you to bed me,” you tell him, rushing out the words, “I do not wish you to take my maidenhead.”
Aegon’s eyes go wide as saucers and he releases a laugh, before shushing you. 
“My lady, we are in a corridor,” he says, looking around as though you’ve made a foolish assumption. Your mouth opens and closes like a fish. 
“I have heard stories,” you tell him and he frowns, though there is amusement in his eyes. 
“Oh, you have?” 
“Yes,” you say, growing annoyed with him, “that you lure helpless maidens into your bed, OR any place that suits you.” You gesture to the corridor you stand in. A bed, a wall, probably on dragonback. It likely did not matter.
Aegon laughs again, a pink blush dusting his cheeks. No one has spoken to him of his reputation so directly before, outside of the members of his family. 
“How lustful of me,” he says, a grin stretching from ear to ear, “you paint me as such a wanton creature Lady Y/N.”
You raise your brows. Aegon stands before you, unashamed. It must be so easy for a prince, to be a man in this world. He is so relaxed with the conversation about his promiscuity. 
“You just had a lady in your company,” you accuse, “and now you look at me like that?”
“Like what?” he asks, leaning against the stone wall, as though the conversation was entirely natural to him. You laugh, breaking his gaze, before looking at him once more. He raises a brow, eyes still half lidded, intrigued. 
“As though you are a man starving, who has happened upon a feast,” you say, laughing at the ridiculousness of it gesturing to the space between you.  
Aegon gives you a once-over with his eyes before answering. A tingle rolls down your spine as his eyes take in every inch of you. You feel naked under his gaze. 
“Perhaps I am famished,” he tells you, and your entire body feels like it is on fire. He is very good at this, and you suddenly realize what makes women want to crawl into bed with him. If this is anything like what pleasure awaits the marriage bed, perhaps your mother was right. 
Aegon wets his lips when you do not answer, tilting his head against the wall, and exposing his neck to you. You watch the apple of his throat bob up and down and have a sudden urge to place a kiss on it. You roll your shoulders back, steadying yourself.
“Yes well,” you stutter, trying to find words, “perhaps there are leftovers from the feast.”
“Are you in the capital long?’ he asks suddenly changing the subject. You blink, the room suddenly seeming uncomfortably warm. 
“Yes, my prince, at least-”
“Good,” he interrupts, pushing off the wall and walking towards you. He comes to stand face to face with you, so close you can feel the heat radiating from his body, smell the sweet wine on his breath from the feast and something else; something rich and smoky that makes you want to bury your face in his chest and inhale. 
“I shall have that drink with you,” he says, eyes locked on yours until the final word he speaks. Only then does he drop his eyes to your parted lips, before bringing them back to your eyes. He flashes you a smile, before continuing his leave in the direction you came. 
“Goodnight, Y/N,” he calls and you turn, confused by his exit. There was something in the air between you that promised something more. The tension gnawing at you. Aegon has begun walking backward slowly, so he could face you, a smirk on his lips, as he takes in your expression. You feel your thoughts are not safe around him. 
“Goodnight, my prince,” you manage to choke out, head spinning from the interaction. 
“Aegon,” he insists.
“Aegon,” you repeat and he tilts his head back, as though enjoying hearing you speak his name. 
Then he turns on his heel and is gone. 
When you finally make it to your chambers, the sky has begun to lighten with the promise of imminent sunrise. You lay in bed, thoughts racing and heart pounding. Your dreams are restless, filled with dragon princes with silver hair and lavender eyes.
4K notes · View notes
chaedomi · 3 months
Text
THE CROWN PRINCESS
Tumblr media
SUMMARY . after visiting her mother, lyrica finds herself learning about the mysterious crown princess who resides inside the sun palace.
CHARACTERS . LYRICA NARA TAKAR / BRINNE SOL
WARNINGS . YANDERE, female child reader, platonic, ooc (if i missed any, kindly alert me)
WORDCOUNT . 2.9k+ / MASTERLIST.
LETTERS . i'd like to make it known that this fanfiction was inspired by lyomeii's works ─ ( one / two ) yeah, i do plan to make this into a little platonic yandere series. and since this is a little introduction to it all, there won't be as much action in this compared to others that (hopefully) will come. 'breanna' is a character made by me on the spot. oh, God, this is so bad
Tumblr media
LYRICA WAS having the best day of her life. Her mother had just bestowed upon her something truly precious—a silver coin, unparalleled to all the riches that could be offered. Honestly, when she lost the first silver coin she had earned back in the slums, she felt a sense of disappointment. That coin had been her pride, marked and stained with all the times she held it, dreaming of a better future. She never aspired to acquire another, as it couldn't compare to the first one she had cherished for so long. But, who cared? Even if it wasn't the same coin, it was still a silver coin—her precious silver coin.
"Ah... Huh...?" Lyrica's footsteps halted as something interesting captured her attention. The Black Dragon Chamber next door was The Crown Prince's room, and right next to it was another door—the entrance to The Crown Princess's chambers. It occurred to Lyrica that she had never laid eyes on The Crown Princess before. The Crown Princess hadn't even been present at her mother's and His Majesty's wedding!
Lyrica lifted her gaze to examine the sign above the chamber door. Said signs depicted the theme of the chambers and, by extension, identified the type of dragon associated with The Crown Princess.
However, instead of the expected dragon imagery, there was what Lyrica recognized as a constellation.
"Oh my," Brinne spoke beside Lyrica, causing the little girl to startle, as the voice was unexpected. "It seems that Your Highness has stumbled across something very interesting. Would you like me to explain, Your Highness?"
"Huh...?" Lyrica blinked at her servant before finally catching on. "O... Oh, yes, please!"
Brinne laughed in response to Lyrica's enthusiasm. "Recall when I mentioned that His Majesty and House Takar trace their lineage to dragons? I also explained that House Wolfe descends from wolves, and House Sandar's ancestry is tied to a colossal snake as thick as a tree."
Brinne’s eyelids fluttered open, and Lyrica could see for herself the fondness swirling in her amethyst-hued eyes.  Lyrica's curiosity deepened even more as a result of this reaction. Minor details about The Crown Princess's existence are known, yet she already fascinates Lyrica. In the 'White Dragon Chamber,' Lyrica remembers the information Brinne shared with her. The Founder of the prosperous Takar Nation was a dragon, leading to the Imperial Family (comprising Takars) being named after these mythical creatures.
So, why is it that you, The Crown Princess, aren't named after a dragon? Your hand was given to The Crown Prince, which rightfully places you within the Imperial Family. However, you carry the identity of something different—a star, or more precisely, a constellation of stars known as Pollux.
Lyrica resisted the urge to ask, concerned about overwhelming Brinne with questions she might not have answers to. However, the more she thought, the more she wanted answers. Despite the unsettling tales she had heard about The Emperor, her stepfather had proven to be benevolent. It wasn't as if The Emperor despised you otherwise, he wouldn't have permitted you to reside in The Sun Palace and ''''marry'''' The Crown Prince. So, why...?
Lyrica bit her lip and groaned, ultimately yielding to her curiosity. "The Family Crest of High-Ranking Nobles symbolizes their ancestry. However, considering House (L.N) bears the crest of a star, does that suggest that The Crown Princess is descended from a star?" Brinne tilted her head and beamed, satisfied with Lyrica's analysis. "Exactly!"
Although Brinne appeared content, Lyrica felt the opposite, her eyebrows furrowing in dissatisfaction. "But... I thought all Takars were named after dragons. What about The Crown Princess?" It's only at that moment that Brinne understands the confusion of The Young Princess. Brinne's smile widened further, momentarily causing Lyrica to worry about the strain on her jaw muscles.
"It's as you mentioned, Your Highness. All Takars, even those married into The Imperial Family, bear dragon names. But, The Crown Princess is only engaged to His Highness.” Brinne replied, a sly smirk gracing her stunning features. Lyrica's expression faltered as she processed her servant's words. “Your Highness, let me make it known that His Majesty deeply admires House (L.N), especially The Crown Princess."
As the realization dawned on her, Lyrica almost jumped in surprise. Tolerance and respect were one thing, but admiration? Another question was… why did Brinne tell her all of this when she had first moved into her chambers? Did she forget…?
Brinne giggled at Lyrica’s reaction. "With admiration comes a deep bond. As we know, His Majesty cannot rule forever, nor will it be advised for his nephew to rule alone. And so, because His Majesty trusts no one as he trusts House (L.N), he decided that one of them shall ascend to the throne alongside his nephew. Despite the many good suitors House (L.N) had to offer, The Crown Princess was chosen as she not only captured him with her abilities but her personality as well."
“Of course, to be a Crown Princess, you need to marry The Crown Prince first. However, His Majesty’s instructions to address Her Highness as such regardless is a way of showcasing her permanent ascension.”
Lyrica's eyebrows rose at the revelation. Well, now it makes sense why you weren’t identified as a dragon. Forget what she said about the marriage thing too. "But wait! Even if The Crown Princess didn’t receive that privilege, would she still be considered important, perhaps more so than High-Ranking Nobles?"
Brinne hummed in thought. “She would still be considered as a High-Ranking Noble even if she and those in House (L.N) hold more privileges than the others in the same noble class. …It’s all because of His Majesty’s orders. Everything is. You are aware of how absolute His Majesty’s orders are, right? If His Majesty commands people to act like animals, they will do just that. If His Majesty says to idolize an object, they will do just that! Even more so if His Majesty orders his people to respect House (L.N) just as they respect House Takar, they will do just that. It doesn’t matter if people are pleased with the arrangements or not. ...His Majesty’s reason for doing so all aligns with the shared history of House Takar and House (L.N).”
Lyrica became intrigued by that bit of information. "Shared history?" She leaned in, eager to learn more. "Can you tell me more, Brinne?" Unfortunately, Brinne responded with an apologetic smile, disappointing Lyrica.
"Regrettably, that's the extent of my knowledge regarding the relationship between House (L.N) and House Takar. It's a limit for anyone," Brinne's lips tightened. "The narrative unfolds after the nation's expansion and the allegiance of House Sandar and House Wolfe, undoubtedly including the deeds of House (L.N) that earned His Majesty's favor."
"However, crucial details of this significant historical period somehow vanished. Consequently, over time, people began crafting theories about how House (L.N) and House Takar evolved into their current relationship. Some theories were logical, while others were entirely nonsensical. And, of course, some seized the opportunity for profit, as seen in the widely popular children's fairytale, 'The Dragon Who Fell In Love With A Star.' You must have heard of it, haven't you?"
Lyrica recalled hearing a similar story in the slums, never imagining its connection to something so crucial. "That's incredible!" she exclaimed.
"Despite these theories, none have been confirmed. House (L.N) and House Takar are the only ones capable of such confirmation. However, His Majesty has maintained silence on the matter, and House (L.N) feels compelled to align with his decision."
"Yet, certain aspects remain clear. Regardless of factual evidence, His Majesty holds House (L.N) in high regard. Thus, we are to treat them with respect, just as we will respect House Takar. Whether others agree or disagree is unimportant."
“Either way, the latter is not a concern,” Brinne continued. “Everyone in this nation is fond of House (L.N), or in this case, The Crown Princess.”
Lyrica cocked her head to the side. “Even you?”
"Yes, Your Highness! Why wouldn't I?" Brinne laughed. "Allow me to explain how House (L.N) operates. As we are aware, High-Ranking Nobles align themselves with the symbols on their crests. Given that House (L.N) traces its lineage to a star... it's worth noting that House (L.N) is the largest Noble Family in the nation. This serves as a symbolic representation of the countless stars that adorn the sky."
"B-Billions!?" Lyrica stammered, staring at Brinne with widened eyes.
"Oh, dear." Brinne covered her mouth. "Your Highness, House (L.N) doesn't quite literally have billions. However, like certain traits are inherent to specific Noble Families, having large kin is one characteristic of House (L.N). So, fear not, Your Highness; having a small family circle is normal. House (L.N) just happens to multiply at a very alarming rate... to the extent that they are scattered throughout all corners of the nation."
"Due to their extensive family, House (L.N) has implemented a system within their household to maintain order. Drawing inspiration from astrology, where eighty-eight constellations are recognized, House (L.N) has structured itself into eighty-eight classes, each with varying levels of power and status. However, within these eighty-eight classes, there exist twelve classes that house the highest positions. I find myself intrigued by the method they use to organize it all..."
"But, moving on!" Brinne placed her hands on her knees. "Your Highness, are you familiar with the twelve constellations of the universe?"
"Yes! Glendelyn taught me about them! It's uh... Aries, Taurus, Gemini, Cancer, Leo, Virgo, Libra, Scorpio, Sagittarius, Capricorn, Aquarius, and Pisces... right!?" Lyrica grinned, pleased with herself for recalling both the names and pronunciation.
"And those would be the twelve classes of House (L.N) with the highest status and power! The Crown Princess oversees Class Gemini of House (L.N), in part. As we know, Gemini is a twin star encompassing both Pollux and Castor. Therefore, Gemini is responsible for two individuals, with The Crown Princess having authority over Pollux."
Brinne's eyes crinkled with amusement. "It makes me wonder... if House (L.N)'s class sorting is also influenced by personality traits..."
"What makes you think that...?" Lyrica inquired, tilting her head to the side.
"Pollux means 'very sweet' or 'fit for royalty.' And when compared to both Castor and Pollux, Pollux is the brighter star of the two." Brinne giggled. "'Fit for royalty'... truly describes The Crown Princess! The Crown Princess can also be characterized as... bright and pure. Undoubtedly, she possesses the most beautiful soul in the entire nation."
In Lyrica's thoughts, she argues that her mother is the most beautiful soul of all!
"Generous, selfless, and loving. The Crown Princess consistently treats everyone impartially and respectfully, ignoring class or personality. When she had more freedom before getting engaged, The Crown Princess frequently visited the lower class, playing with the little children there. She gave them gifts, food, and clothes, disregarding the opinions of those in the Noble Status," Brinne explained.
"Now, with increased power, The Crown Princess has expressed her intent to enhance the quality of life for the lower class. His Majesty has already given his approval, leaving the timing of the project's initiation to The Crown Princess." Brinne hummed. "In summary, The Crown Princess is admired not just for her history and status. It's her demeanor and how she treats others, whether good or evil, that truly highlights her charm."
By now, Lyrica's eyes were gleaming. "She does sound amazing..." As someone who had previously lived in the slums, hearing about how The Crown Princess cared so tenderly for her fellow people deeply touched Lyrica. Typically, individuals of higher status tended to be snobbish and avoided those from lower classes, using harsh and insulting labels. Lyrica was all too familiar with that. However, there were exceptions—The Crown Princess, who cared for them despite their backgrounds, striving to improve their lives! Lyrica's thoughts began to wander, imagining what her life might have been like if she had encountered The Crown Princess in the past.
The only issue in her thoughts was, "Brinne, how exactly does The Crown Princess look?"
"Hmm... Let me think about how I can describe this. Your Highness, when you gaze at the stars at night, what's the first thing that comes to your mind?" Brinne inquired.
"Well, I always think about how beautiful the stars look tonight," Lyrica responded promptly.
“It’s the same for House (L.N). They possess a certain essence that makes them shine, glitter, and sparkle. The Crown Princess is no exception. She has gorgeous (h.c) hair that sparkles under the sunlight, and (s.c) skin that glows with the moonlight. However, what truly sets The Crown Princess apart within her House is her eyes. Those eyes of hers... are the physical embodiment of her lineage. With (e.c) eyes that sparkle like fine jewels, she carries the entire universe in them."
Lyrica's jaw dropped in amazement. "Is that another form of symbolism...?"
Brinne shook her head. "This time, it's quite literal." Seeing Lyrica's face scrunch up in suspicion, Brinne resisted the urge to giggle. "Oh my, Your Highness. I assure you, I'm not making fun of you for thinking House (L.N) consisted of billions of members. I don't blame you for being skeptical. Eyes resembling the universe? It does sound far-fetched, especially when no one else is known for having such a trait. But, it is the truth."
Lyrica pouted, fiddling with her clothes. "All of this talk just makes me want to meet The Crown Princess!"
"Huhu~ I'm certain The Crown Princess would have loved to meet you too, Your Highness. Unfortunately, current circumstances just won't allow her to do so. With The Crown Prince currently absent, The Crown Princess has temporarily taken over his responsibilities, attending to any work that needs to be accomplished in his stead."
"I can recall a day when The Crown Princess looked like a disaster, seconds away from collapsing onto the ground," Brinne shivered. "As much work as it may be, it's what needs to be done. Again, The Crown Prince and The Crown Princess are destined to ascend to the throne one day, signifying the future management of the nation. Thus, they must demonstrate their capabilities to the people, and most importantly, His Majesty."
“Oh!” Lyrica blinked.
“Hmm… Now, I’m not sure, but, come to think of it, you should be able to see The Crown Princess soon, Your Highness.” Brinne added.
“Oh!?” Lyrica exclaimed in a louder tone.
“His Highness should be returning from his feudal territory very soon. And once he does, Her Highness should be able to take a breather from her piles of work.”
Lyrica fell silent, staring at Brinne with a soft expression. Lyrica then smiled fondly, clasping her hands together. “I know The Crown Princess isn’t fully inside the family as yet… Even so, she would be my cousin. But, still… The Crown Princess… would be some form of big sister, right…?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“YOUR HIGHNESS! I come to you with great news! His Highness should be returning soon!” Gracefully entering the 'Constellation Pollux Chamber,' a maid carrying a golden tray of food and treats hastened toward you, seated upright in your bed, gazing at the scenery beyond your window.
Turning your attention forward, you stared at your maid with widened eyes. "Is that so?" Your surprise quickly morphed into happiness, a smile spreading across your lips as you interlaced your fingers. A flowery aura surrounded you, and your excitement was visible. "That is good news! How long has it been since Atil was gone...? Six months?"
"Precisely," your maid, Breanna, hummed, gently placing the tray on your bed tray table, which you wasted no time digging into. "I can tell that you have many ideas running through your head, Your Highness. I, too, would want to greet someone I cherish with a warm welcome after not seeing them for so long."
"For Atil...? Erm... No, that's not why I'm so excited... I'm excited because I won't have to work as hard as I did anymore!" You beamed without shame. "Ugh, it was torturous... Left, right, and center, it was just piles of paper. Any more, and I would have begun to see the pearly white gates of heaven..."
"Oh, my, is that all? His Highness would be upset if he heard that's the only reason you missed his presence," Breanna giggled.
"...Seriously...?"
"And then there are your new family members, Your Highness."
You paused, fingers clasped around the handle of your spoon. Slowly, you lifted your head to meet your maid's gaze, (e.c) eyes locking with amethyst eyes. "Yes, I have heard about the news. How His Majesty has taken a commoner as his bride, and her child as his daughter."
Your smile widened, lips encased around the tip of the spoon. As if nature were in sync with you, the sunlight cast an ethereal glow on your frame, making you appear more enchanting. Even your maid, who wore a sly smirk seconds prior, jaw slackened, staring at you in awe.
"It's a shame I am unable to do anything at the moment. I can't express just how eager I am to meet them. But one thing's for sure... I already see them as family."
In your eyes was the universe. Stars served as pupils, they glowed with endless glee and anticipation.
Tumblr media
©chaedomi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of the works published.
613 notes · View notes
yanderenightmare · 4 months
Text
BAKUGOU KATSUKI MASTERLIST
Ranging from my top Bakugou post to posts with notes above 1k.
Tumblr media
Boss ! Bakugo going yandere for his helpful assistant:
WANTS & NEEDS ♡6.6k
Yandere captor ! Bakugou punishes darling for a crime she didn’t commit and then regrets it:
WRONGLY PUNISHED ♡5.8k
FOLLOW-UP ASK ♡2.2k
Darling uses sex as a coping mechanism:
DARLING INITIATING SEX ♡4.8k
Hero ! Bakugou x Villain ! Deku x childhood friend ! darling:
RENUNION ♡3.7k
Cock descriptions:
COCK ♡3.7k
What BNHA ! yandere is the scariest:
SCARY YANDERE ♡3.5k
Bully ! Bakugou creeps on his quirkless study partner:
STUDY-SESSIONS ♡3.3k
Bully ! Bakugo is scary and pushy and delusional:
BAD GUY ♡3k
Fuckfriend ! Bakugou turned yandere:
BORING ♡2.8k
Alpha ! Bakugou figures out why he bullies Omega reader:
LESSON ♡2.8k
HEAT ♡1.3k
Bully ! Bakugo series. He harasses the reader into a relationship:
SEVEN MINUTES IN HELL ♡2.7k
TRUST ME ♡2.1k
Boyfriend ! Bakugou headcanons:
BOYFRIEND ! KATSUKI ♡2.7k
Poly ! KiriBaku bullies cute darling:
BAD INFLUENCE ♡2.6k
Poly ! BakuDekuTodo x darling thirsts:
BAKUDEKUTODO X DARLING ♡2.6k
BAKUDEKUTODO X DARLING ♡1.3k
POLY ♡1.6k
Prince ! Bakugou x maid ! dalring:
PRINCE x MAID ♡2.6k
Imagines of what happens when the darling tries to deny the BNHA ! yanderes intimacy and sex:
BAKUGOU ♡2.4k
Bully ! Bakugo x poor ! darling:
IN CASE OF FIRE: PUSH ALARM ♡1.4k
IN THE TRAILER ♡2.3k
FOLLOW-UP ASK
Barbarian King ! Bakugo arranged marriage with princess ! darling:
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST ♡2.3k
Yandere captor ! Bakugou reacting to pregnant darling:
PREGNANT DARLINGS ♡2.3k
Overworked and touch-starved Prohero ! Bakugou x girlfriend ! darling:
ONE MORE TIME? ♡2.2k
Yandere captor ! Bakugou with a darling who enjoys being his darling:
DARLING ENJOYS BEING A DARLING ♡2k
Bakugou and darling's sexual role-play dynamic:
ROLE-PLAY DYNAMICS ♡1.9k
Yandere captor ! Bakugo x pet ! darling:
PET ! DARLING IN HEAT ♡1.8k
AFTERMATH OF PET ! DARLING IN HEAT ♡1.5k
BRATTY PET-DARLING ♡1.1k
Yandere captor ! Bakugou x darling with early Stockholm syndrome:
EARLY STOCKHOLM SYNDROME ♡1.7k
Yandere captor ! Bakugou wants captive darling to be willing:
WILLINGLY OR NOT ♡1.7k
Poly Proheroes ! BakuDeku blackmails criminal ! darling:
STREET SCUM ♡1.7k
Bully ! Bakugou redemption, being charming with darling and asking her out:
GIRLFRIEND ♡1.6k
Sheriff ! Bakugou harasses backpacking tourist:
HIS TOWN, HIS RULES ♡1.6k
Yandere captor ! Bakugou's need for intimacy:
INTIMATE ACTIVITIES ♡1.6k
Bakugou having a breeding kink for his crush:
BREEDING KINK ♡1.6k
Yandere captor ! Bakugou cleaning darling’s cuts after she tries killing herself:
CUTS & BANDAGES ♡1.6k
Childhood friend Bakugou and you have been stuck in a toxic relationship forever:
NO ONE ELSE ♡1.6k
Pro Hero ! Bakugou regrets not making you his before it was too late:
MISERABLE ♡1.5k
Bakugou's type:
SUBMISSIVE DARLING ♡1.5k
Alpha ! Bakugou mating his terrified Omega ! darling:
Five Steps for Alphas Mating Omegas ♡1.5k 
Prohero ! Bakugou going yandere for childhood friend ! spy ! darling:
EMPTY SHELLS ♡1.5k
Poly wolf-boys ! BakuDeku with a bunny ! darling in heat:
HEATED ♡1.5k
Daddy ! Bakugou punishes his darling for not following her strict schedule:
RULEBREAK ♡1.5k
Yandere captor ! Bakugou x clumsy ! darling:
CLUMSY DARLING ♡1.5k
How yandere captor ! Bakugou punishes his darling:
PUNISHMENTS ♡1.4k
Sadistic yandere Bakugou chases you down after you escape:
BEAR-TRAP ♡1.4k
Poly ! KiriBaku are a toxic duo for poor captive ! darling:
BAD COP/GOOD COP ♡1.4k
Alpha ! Bakugou finally finding his rebel ! Omega ! mate:
MUD ♡1.3k
Prohero ! Bakugou lusting over his equally successful childhood friend:
PROFESSIONAL ♡1.3k
Yandere captor Bakugou with a depressive darling:
MELANCHOLIA ♡1.2k
Incel ! Bakugou kidnaps reader to be his sex-puppet:
TOUCH ♡1.2k
Bakugou smut alphabet:
NSFW ABCs ♡1.2k
Bakugo frustrate with his affection over this clueless moron:
SCARY LOVE ♡1.1k
Bakugou's darling puts on his hero costume:
PLAYING DRESS-UP ♡1.1k
Yandere captor Bakugou's likes cooking with his darling:
HOBBIES ♡1.1k
Yandere captor Bakugou's sleeping habits:
SLEEPING HABITS ♡1.1k
Bully ! Bakugou being heartbroken and desperately in love with you:
HEARTBROKEN ♡1.1k
Yandere captor Bakugou spanking reader:
DADDY'S GIRL ♡1.1k
Yandere captor Bakugou with tiny darling:
PUFF ♡1.1k
How Bakugou became yandere for his darling:
YANDERE BEGINNINGS ♡1.1K
Hermit forest-dweller ! Bakugou takes lost hiker ! darling captive:
HERMIT ♡1k
BNHA genderbender:
FEM ♡1k
Bakugou teaches you how to cum:
STRUGGLE ♡1k
Bully Bakugou kidnaps you during the purge:
THE PURGE ♡1k
Parole officer Bakugou accepts your bride:
OUR LITTLE SECRET ♡1k
Yandere captor Bakugou infantilizes darling:
DADDY'S BABY ♡1k
Captive reader rebels against yandere captor Bakugou:
GONE WRONG ♡1k
The Torodoki family makes use of their quirkless daughter - with friends:
FAMILY FUN ♡1k
What type of hybrid he is:
HYBRID ♡1k
Sad and lonely stalker Bakugou:
DRIVEN MAD ♡1k
Tumblr media
Similar posts can be found in the following:
INSERT MASTERLIST
710 notes · View notes
ebbaskz · 4 months
Text
reacting to bf!skz sbs gayo daejeon outfits (2)
Tumblr media
masterlist
pairing : skz x reader (chan, changbin, seungmin, jeongin)
content : very suggestive and very horny, down bad y/n but also very down bad skz, usage of wolf jokes and breeding in chans, thigh riding in changbins, pillow princess!reader in seungmins, 18+
ss count : 2 per member
minho, hyunjin, jisung, felix here
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
a/n : hello! happy belated new year lovers!! hope 2024 is a great year (which it should be with the skz tour...). heres the second part of this little prompt. ill be picking back up fangirl and the accident series soon. sorry for always vanishing for a few days, my life is just a little hectic. hope this was enjoyable and have a good day/night pooks! - eb
941 notes · View notes
f10werfae · 1 year
Text
Mi Princesa
Tumblr media
pairing: Sugar Daddy!Pedro Pascal x Pregnant!Reader
summary: Some morning loving with Pedro Pascal and his very pregnant wife, and maybe a little spice in the shower (DILF Warning ) Disclaimer 18+
likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated🫶
Full Masterlist, Pedro Pascal Masterlist
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
“Good morning mi princesa, and good morning mi amor” Pedro whispered bending down to kiss his wife’s 6 month bump, the coldness of his wedding ring making her flinch. “Baby, ya woke her up” She whined feeling the small fluttery kicks erupt at the tip of her stomach, her eyes still closed but her lips already aiming for Pedro’s, giving him one hell of a wet kiss. “I’m sorry baby, daddy wanted to talk to his princesa” He whispered gruffly, one of his hands sneaking up her sleep shirt to cup and squeeze at one of her swollen breasts, massaging it softly.
“Eh? What about your other princesa?” Y/n winked biting her lip, softly moaning at the feeling of his cold hands on her tits, he was always so gentle with her; almost as if she was made of glass. “Mm can’t forget about her, but you’ve been upgraded baby, tú eres mi reina”
“Hmm sounds sexy what does it mean?” Tracing the side of his face she felt his hand fall back down to her rounded stomach, a habit he had picked up over the past few weeks, along with the belly kisses and telling his baby-girl stories. “Means you’re my reina, my queen, and this little girl, is our princesa”
“God could you get any sweeter, sexier and even more handsome Pedro” She squealed using her energy to hoist herself up to straddle him, even with her stomach in the way, she leant down as best as possible to pepper kisses all over his neck; giggling once she felt his hand on her ass, softly drumming against it with his hand. “Oh shit, I may have peed a little” She said suddenly sitting up, knowing damn well how much her precious princess loves using her bladder as a cushion, sending her to the toilet multiple times an hour.
“Did I ever tell you how much I love your waddle?” Pedro whistled watching her speed waddle into the toilet, a hand on the small of her back as she sent a glare his way, sticking her tongue out at him. “ah baby don’t get like that with me, I can’t stand it when mi reina gives me that face” Pedro sighed springing himself out of the cotton sheets, following his wife like a cute little puppy, just watching her wash her hands and brush her teeth. “Stop giving me those eyes, Mr Pascal” She warned spitting out the rest of her water, reaching behind him to pull on the water heater,
“What eyes Mrs. Pascal? The eyes you fell in love with? The eyes you look into while-“
“Yes yes, those eyes, now help me” She smiled widely holding both hands up in the air, watching on as Pedro pulled his shirt off her body, hearing him wolf whistle once he saw her nude body; acting as if they hadn’t been going at it like rabbits due to her raging hormones. “Come on daddy, don’t ya wanna shower with the mommy?” She smirked slowly stepping into the shower, her hands rubbing over her stomach as she tilted her head cutely, knowing damn well what it did to her sugar daddy husband.
“Mierda, the things you do to me woman” He groaned quickly ridding himself of his shorts and t-shirt, his arms instinctively wrapping around her waist to bring her side flush against his chest, the gruff of his facial hair softly scratching against the top of her head. He could practically feel the heat coming from her wet centre the more he felt up her wet body, taking his sweet time to kiss and grab at all his favourite spots (which was basically everywhere) Taking his time to kiss at her breasts, her stomach, her arms, even bending down to kiss at her thighs.
“Please Pedro, you know what you’re doing, s’not fair” She sighed stomping her foot lightly, furrowing her brows as his tongue licked stripes up her neck and into her mouth; causing her to moan into his hot wet open mouth. “I need you daddy, please” She whined using the nickname that started their relationship in the first place, on that dodgy sugar baby site. Her hand leading his down to her already swollen clit, directing his fingers to rub slow soft circles on her button.
“I’ve got you mi vida, got to help my princesa’s mama, mi reina” He whispered kissing her lips then her cheek, his fingers moving at a steady pace as he felt her grasp onto his forearms for balance, her forehead leaning against his chest.
“I-i’m close baby, so so close” She whispered kissing his pec, gasping when she felt his fingers sort through her holds, swiftly inserting a finger into her snug hole; with one finger at her clit simultaneously. “Let go for me mama, i’m right here, let go for me gorgeous girl” He sighed against her temple, feeling her clench onto one of his fingers as she shook against him; her legs slightly trembling. “Good girl baby, feel and taste you so good” Rubbing her folds gently to let her ride her high, he slowly removed his hands, licking them clean as he looked into her eyes.
“You’re crazy Pedro, but I love you so much for it” She breathed out, clearly out of breath, her body fully leaning onto his for support; before wincing again when she felt an extra strong kick being delivered to her ribs, her little girl was finally awake again. Pedro’s hands immediately rushing to her stomach, shushing his little baby at the same time, he was in awe at her sheer strength. His lips meeting the stretch marks on his wife’s belly, his eyes marvelled in awe at how beautifully they were spread on her skin, the marks telling a story of how she was carrying his baby, their baby. Their princesa
“mi princesa, no le hagas daño a tu madre, she takes such good care of you, making sure you’re safe and healthy in her amazing beautiful body. Take care inside there okay? You can kick papa all you want when we meet you, but for now stay calm mi princess, te amo mucho”
———
no le hagas daño a tu madre = Don’t hurt your mother
PSA: This was so cute to write I loved it so much🫶 So I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it :)
*All Spanish came from online as i’m not fluent, if something needs corrected please let me know :)*
See you guys at the next update 🫶
2K notes · View notes
euphoricfilter · 1 year
Note
im in LOVE w your yandere ddlg fics… can i request one w namjoon? 🫣🫣 i feel like he fits the ddlg concept so well ugh
𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦:
Tumblr media
pairing: yandere! namjoon x f. reader
genre: fluff || smut || non-idol au || established relationship au ||
summary: if namjoon’s life were a book, he thinks the day his eyes set on you, it had been the start of a fairytale. where he is the prince, and you, his princess.
word count: 5.5k
tags/ warnings: disgusting amounts of fluff, buff bf namjoon, reader is definitely an ipad baby, she’s also very very spoiled, and very very shy, ddlg themes, non-sexual dom joon, descriptions of murder, a few references to literature, smut in the forms of: unprotected sex (this is fiction, don’t be stupid), dom! namjoon, sub! reader, he’s girthy, size kink, cockwarming, belly bulge, dick riding, female masturbation, fingering, oral (f. receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, lots of praise, and she’s a bit of a pillow princess, aftercare
notes: i agree!! he fits this concept so well!! and thank you for reading my other works babes! and here i present my last post of 2022! if there are mistakes, no there aren’t you didn’t see anything
request rules can be found here || my masterlist
✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯
You were Namjoon’s fairytale dream. A distressed princess locked in the wicked witch’s tower— that was this corrupt world that the two of you lived in.
Him, your knight in shining armour, sweeping you off your feet and dressing you in pretty dresses and jewels just like a true princess.
Truthfully Namjoon liked the classics better, words articulated like poetry and feelings forever carved into paper with ink. Little pieces of each author weaved into each book they’d ever written, secrets between pages and fantasies hidden behind flowery words. Hours upon hours of knowledge stacked up in Namjoon’s mind, useless little things that no one had ever cared to ask him about.
Perhaps romance novels were his guilty pleasure. That sickly feeling you get, reading about two people so in love that you have to sit back and realise that your own life is nothing more than a slow burn. Where truly, you’re the side character that is left and forgotten, watching the people around you— the main cast of the story, fall in love and find their god-awful happiness that you can only dream of.
You see, Namjoon had learnt how patience was a virtue. He’d waited year and years for that love story, for the perfect, pure, unadulterated adoration for another human, like in all those romance novels.
Countless flings and unexplainable anger from all the women who had shattered his heart over and over again had led him to you. Had steered him towards the right path. Perhaps like the yellow brick road, him being Dorothy and you, Emerald City. His final destination.
You’d always been awfully shy. Something Namjoon completely adored about you. Something he knew you were a little insecure about; among other things.
His remedy to your doubt, fucking you until all you knew was his and your names. Fucked so dumb you could only cry, clinging onto him like he weren’t the wolf and you weren’t little red, pure white dove chomped and chewed in his jaws like Carol Ann Duffey had described— you locked in his claws as he ripped away at tattered old clothing.
Past relationships had ended on bad terms for you, similar to himself, because it seemed no one had ever taken the time to read into you properly. Hadn’t taken the time to map out your story on paper and analyze you; the perfect specimen, the apple of his eye, a goddess among humans and his pretty little princess.
So soft and so pretty. Something a little sick, twisted, in his mind that he’d been able to lock you away in a cage like a bird, delicate little wings snapped in two where escape was impossible; thoughts of a life without him nothing more than a breathy whisper in the wind.
“Which one do you want today, sweetheart?” Namjoon’s arm laces around your shoulder, tugging you closer into his side. Your Mary Janes tapping gently against the tile floor.
You peer into the display case, fingers tightly clasped around the sleeve of his hoodie; an anchor for your fraying feelings, anxiety creeping up your spine.
He doesn’t rush you, simply raising an eyebrow at the worker behind the counter who gets angsty at your thoughtful pondering. Line of customers slowly building behind the two of you; and Namjoon can hear a few impatient mutters.
“Strawberry, please” you fall back into his side, weight solely dependent on Namjoon holding you up.
Your boyfriend turns his attention back towards the barista, fingers carding through your hair.
“One americano, a hot chocolate and one of the strawberry cakes, thank you” he turns his attention back to you; watching as you rock and forth on your heels.
“Why don’t you go and pick a table out for us, darling?”
You hum, fingers tugging at his sleeve mindlessly once more before you’re scampering towards a table by the window.
Namjoon feels his cock twitch in his pants as you bend over the table slightly, collecting the discarded straw wrappers that had been left on the table; and he watches your skirt raise a little up your thighs, supple skin taunting him.
He doesn’t bother with whatever the barista tells him, pushing his card across the counter as he watches you; legs bouncing anxiously as you grip the hem of your shirt, finally taking a seat.
He waves at you as he waits at the end of the counter, the scent of freshly brewed coffee thick in the air and Namjoon worries about the impeding headache you’re sure to have.
“Here you go, pretty” he places the tray in the middle of the table, tutting when you go to grab your mug of hot chocolate. You simply fall back into your chair, eyes trained on Namjoon’s hand as he places your drink before you.
“Thank you” you smile up at him as he pulls out the chair beside you.
“You’re welcome” he coos, dragging your chair closer to his own, his neck craning to kiss your temple.
Your smile is shy though your attention is quickly snatched by his fingers that dig around the pocket of his hoodie.
He pushes his phone to your side of the table, hand laying heavy on the back of your neck as you pick it up.
“I’m gonna get a new high score” you tell your boyfriend, turning to give him a determined smile as your tap tap tile game loads.
“Yeah?” he asks, eye smile so pretty you get lost looking at him for a moment. Only snapping out of your own little reverie when he blows on your hot chocolate. “Drink up” he reminds you.
You nod, delicate fingers picking your mug up by the handle, and you watch as Namjoon brings his own coffee to his lips for a taste.
“Good?”
You nod, “Good”
Namjoon’s thumb continues to brush over the back of your neck as you hunch over the table, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as you load up one of the songs of your game.
Your mouth falls open when Namjoon’s fingers dig into the back of your hair, tugging your head back.
He watches as your lips close around the forkful of cake he feeds you, endeared smile on his face as a little bit of the cream clings to the corners of your lips. You don’t seem to take much notice as his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, eyes glued to the screen of his phone.
Your lips part after swallowing, tongue peeking out to lick at the pad of Namjoon’s thumb before he’s slipping it into your mouth.
“Yummy?” he asks, and you fall back into your chair— game suddenly long forgotten as Namjoon’s thumb lays heavy on your tongue.
You nod, fingers itching for the fork. Your boyfriend simply tuts, “Let me do that for you” his thumb slips out of your mouth, soon replaced with another large forkful of strawberries and cream.
✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯
Namjoon’s attention is quickly snatched from his laptop when he hears a gentle knock on the door of his home office.
You always seemed to count a few seconds before you opened the door, always mindful that he was often busy; even if he’d made it clear that he was never too busy for you.
“What’s wrong, darling?” he closes his laptop, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.
“You’re not in bed” you whisper, still lingering in the doorway. Frilly-socked feet shuffling anxiously against the carpet.
Namjoon thinks you look like a dream, eyes heavy with lingering sleep, thin strap of your silk nightdress slipping off your shoulder as you curl in on yourself. Always ever so shy, even after years together.
He’d taken his time pampering you that evening. An hour spent in the bath where’d he’d lathered your body in thick suds of soap, sweet smelling like roses that had sat in the summer sun all afternoon, skin warm like petals that had basked in the golden rays of light. Silent promises of a love that will last forever, until he takes his last breath, until the world ceases to exist and his love can longer be— traced under light fingertips that knew your body better than you ever would.
You squirmed as he’d rubbed lotion into every inch of skin your body had to offer— body his temple, your soul his goddess that he worshiped like you were his only purpose in life. Each breath he took, every step he’d continue to take, everything for you.
You’d laid spread across his lap as he’d worked any knots out of your back before dressing you up pretty for bed. Flimsy silk nightdress tickling your skin, brushing against bare thighs, where Namjoon’s hands had the freedom to roam your body until you’d been giggling at him to stop.
His favorite pastime, brushing your hair before bed; his hands those of Rumplestiltskin, each strand treated like intricately created golden thread, gentle as he tugs each knot until perfect.
He’d been there when you’d fallen asleep, bones jelly after he’d fingered you to an orgasm and mind nothing more than cotton candy softness as you’d tugged your precious little bunny to your chest. A gift he’d given you your first date together; and although you claimed you never had favorites , it was always his bunny that remained in your arms as you slept.
And truly he thought tonight he would finish up the last of the project he’d been given, the rest of the week yours; his time cupped in your hands to use however you pleased. The smile you were sure to give him each day after work, worth the pain of a single one nighter.
“I have some work to finish up, why don’t you go lay down, and I’ll be there in a little while” he tilts his head, gentle smile toying at the corners of his lips.
Your lips mould into a pout, “No” you shake your head, voice pulling out a little whiny “You have to come with me, Joonie. Right now”
“But I’m busy, darling” he coos, rolling his chair away from his desk. Legs falling open and he wonders how long it’ll take you to crawl into his lap.
He watches you thrown yourself to the floor, falling to your knees with a dull thump, and he worries they’ll bruise. You don’t seem to care, too pre-occupied with the start of your bubbling tantrum to care about any future injuries; you’ll be sure to milk all of your boyfriend’s sympathy when you he patches you up later. Crying until he’s kissing it all better, and maybe he’ll buy you a gift for being so brave.
He’d seen you scrolling through a few shops online earlier in the day before dinner, rosy-red blush painting your cheeks at a few items you’d hopefully saved.
You hiccup, stuffed bunny clung to your chest as you shake your head. “No, no” you sniffle, “You have to come now” your legs kick a little underneath you.
It was no secret that Namjoon liked to spoil you. Truthfully, he didn’t see the issue— what else was he supposed to do when housing a little princess? If you wanted something then who was he to say no?
Especially when you looked up at him through wet lashes, tears clinging to your cheeks like freshly fallen rain would the petal of a flower.
“Don’t cry” he frowns, heart clenching at the utter distraught on your face; cheeks glazed in saline tears and eyes watery, another miserable cry ready to slip past your lips. “Come here, my precious little baby”
The sob you let out is pitiful, bunny’s fluffy little paw held so tight in your hand as you push yourself to stand. Floppy ears soaking up your tears as you wipe your cheeks.
Namjoon’s hand’s curl under your thighs as you push yourself into his lap, a new wave of tears spilling down your cheeks.
“oh dolly” he croons, “You’ve been fussy all day, haven’t you? What’s wrong?”
Your arms wrap around his neck, face tucked tightly into his shoulder as you choke on another sob. Bunny tucked between your chests.
His thumb is gentle as it brushes over the top of your thighs.
“Tell me what happened” he rests his cheek against the top of your head, mean little smile pulling at his cheeks as your sobs fizzle to little hiccups.
“Work” you whisper, fingers threading into his hair, tugging rhythmically as you mouth at his neck.
“What happened at work?”
You whine, pushing your body flush against Namjoon’s. His hands wander, grabbing your ass as you rock forwards; bare pussy brushing over his pyjama pants.
“There’s a— there’s a new guy” your hips falter and Namjoon holds in a groan as your weight settles right over his cock.
Namjoon hums, “What about him?”
“He—“ a breathy moan drips off your tongue as his fingers dig into the meat of your ass.
“He what, darling? I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong” he murmurs, fingers mean as he tugs your face away from his neck by the back of your hair.
Your mouth falls open, and Namjoon watches your eyes glaze over, though this time it’s not tears; and he wonders if you can see how ruined you look in the reflection of his glasses.
“Tell me” your thighs clenching at his tone.
You whimper, “He said a bad word, can’t say it”
Namjoon’s head tips backwards, “Go ahead and say it, baby. I won’t get mad”
“Promise?”
He smiles, endeared “Promise”
“He asked me on a date” your fingers grasp onto the neckline of his shirt, and your boyfriend hums, “I said no, because I have a boyfriend”
“And?”
He watches as your bottom lip quivers, breath hitching in your throat. “Said you didn’t need to know, could be a quick fuck in the back room”
Namjoon’s jaw ticks, “What’s his name?” his fingers skim over your jaw, your hips jutting forward. “Name, darling”
“Jimin” you breathe, “Told Nana, and she said she’d talk to him”
“Yeah?” Namjoon hums, “I’ll sort him out, okay?”
“Okay” you nod.
“Well done for telling me, darling” he smiles, an attempt to ease any lingering anxiety you had. The last thing he wanted was for you to hate work when you enjoyed it so much.
Your hips rut forwards, Namjoon pulling your nightdress up around your hips, watching as your bare cunt drags over his slowly hardening cock.
You lean forwards, lips brushing over Namjoon’s jaw as his hands guide your hips. You moan as the head of his cock brushes over your clit.
“Feel good, darling?” Namjoon’s breathing is heavy, one of his arms tucking under your thighs as he hoists you further up his chest, his free hand tugging his pants down.
Your hand travels between your bodies, tips of your fingers brushing over Namjoon’s slit, precum oozing out the tip as your hand runs down his length.
“Up you get” he helps you, head of his cock running through your slit as you roll your hips forwards.
You bite down on your bottom lip, watery whines bubbling up your throat with each nudge of your boyfriend’s cock running over your clit. Arousal seeps past your folds down Namjoon’s length.
You hold his cock against your cunt, Namjoon’s fingers digging into your hips, sure to leave bruises, but you didn’t seem to care all that much as your hips roll forward.
“Inside Joonie” you whine, tongue laving over the skin of his neck.
Namjoon takes a hold of the base of his cock, and you use his shoulders as leverage, chair wobbling under your joint weight as you line up his cockhead with your hole.
Your fingers run through your folds, wetness soaking your fingers as you circle your clit gently, Namjoon helping you as the tip of his cock brushes over your hole. And you let out an involuntary whine as the stimulation.
Your arms wrap around Namjoon’s neck, head of his cock splitting you open as you ease yourself down an inch before you’re pulling off slowly.
“Your pretty little pussy is so small” Namjoon groans. Flared cockhead pulling your pussy taught as you try and ease down lower.
You breath gets stuck in your throat, Namjoon’s fingers gently thumbing at your clit as you clench around his length. Slowly starting to stuff each agonizing inch into your cunt.
You whine as you reach the hilt, hips rutting forward messily. You moan at the lick of please that wracks through your body with each slow drag of Namjoon’s thick cock against your walls.
Namjoon pulls your face away from hiding by the back of your neck, tugging you until your lips mould into one, tongue pushed into your mouth, fresh minty toothpaste coating his tastebuds.
You start to bounce in his lap, childish impatience starting to take over as you chase after an orgasm. Always a little greedy when it came to your own pleasure, using Namjoon to get yourself off before you ever allow him to chase his own release.
“That’s it” he moans, unabashed in his arousal.
Namjoon uses his legs as an anchor, holding the two of you in place, ensuring the chair doesn’t tip over as the back of your thighs slap against the top of his own.
You moan as his thumb continues to brush over your clit, a ring of your arousal gathered at the base of his cock with each jittery raise of your hips.
“Doing so well for me” Namjoon groans, “Always such a good girl, yeah?”
“Mhmm” you nod, bunny tumbling to the floor. Long forgotten as you feel the precipice of your pleasure slowly boiling away in your stomach.
“Gonna cum for me?”
Your thighs shake at that, deep groan of pleasure shooting straight to your cunt as you continue to ride Namjoon like it were the last time.
“Go on, cum for me”
Namjoon’s hands find themselves perched under your ass, aiding you as your legs start to grow tired. Muscles in his arms bulging as he drags you up and down his length.
“So small, could use you as my own little fleshlight. You’d like that wouldn’t you?” he groans, mirth swimming in his eyes.
Meanly, Namjoon pinches your clit and that’s all it takes for searing hot pleasure to wash over your body, thighs shaking at your release.
You hiccup another sob at the burning arousal as Namjoon continues to ram his cock back up inside you, thick rivulets of your slick coating his balls as he chases his own release.
“Too much” you cry, hands wrapping around his wrists as his fingers dig into your hips.
“I’m close, hold on for me” Namjoon’s head tips back.
Namjoon can feel your pussy as it pulsates around his length; you let out something akin to a squeak as you feel his cock twitch.
Mouth falling open in a silent moan as his warm cum paints your insides white.
You raise up on shaky legs, tip of his cock left nestled between your walls before you’re falling back down on his length; cum pushed deep inside of you.
“Oh my baby” he coos, fingers gentle as they brush through your hair, “Sleepy?”
You nod, words fizzling out on your tongue as you yawn.
Your cunt continues to clench around his cock, even as you fall asleep on his chest.
✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯
The bell above the door is obnoxious in announcing Namjoon’s arrival.
‘Pages of Love’ the little bookshop you worked at.
He would have gotten you to quit the shitty little job by now if it didn’t hold such significance in your relationship. He’d first met you here, had dates here, and it made you so happy that Namjoon couldn’t bare to see the sad pout that would be sure to form if he ever suggested you left this place behind.
“Namjoon” the old woman behind the counter smiles, waving him over. “I’m sure you’re aware but it’s y/n’s day off”
“Actually, Nana, I’m here for something else” he smiles, expression saddened and the old woman frowns.
“Anything” she nods.
“It’s about Jimin. He doesn’t happen to be working today, does he?”
“He’s on break right now.” She tuts, “Is this about what he said to y/n. I’ve already warned him about it”
“She came home upset” he shakes his head and Nana sighs.
“Poor girl. She’s lucky to have you, Namjoon”
“Thank you” his smile is genuine, though it drops the moment he steps out the door.
And he waits, waits weeks before he decided what he wants to do with the lowly piece of shit that dared suggest you cheat on him.
Waited weeks as he wrote down every sick little fantasy he had about the ways he’d maul his body. Shredding limbs, gutting him alive. Maybe he’d decapitate him and then send his head to his mother, or chop his filthy dick off and make him watch as he fed it to whatever animal is willing to chew on nearly nothing.
Written fantasies weren’t enough. Namjoon’s fingers always itching, always eager to finally wrap around the boy’s lithe throat and make him beg for mercy until his face is red and pride oozing out of his body with his fear.
“I’m gonna be home late tonight, little one” Namjoon tucks your hair behind your ear, gentle smile rivaling your frown.
“Why?” you ask, blinking up at him through your lashes.
“I have a small job I need to take care of”
“Can I help?”
“Nope” he leans down, soft feathery kiss pressed to you cheek before he’s pulling back, standing at full height.
You look up at him, “You can’t go”
“And why not?” he challenges.
“Because” your defense weak and truly Namjoon wishes he could stay.
“I charged your ipad this morning” and your eyes light up.
“Be quick, okay?” you push yourself up on your tippy toes, hands cupping his cheeks as you press a kiss to his lips.
“Promise” he smiles, “Now be a good girl, and don’t cause any trouble”
“I won’t” you wave him off.
✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯
Namjoon isn’t exactly sure what he expects to see when he finally gets home, a quick detour to Seokjin’s house to wash off Jimin’s blood and a change of clothes taking longer than he’d anticipated when his friend had insisted on making them both tea.
He can’t help the groan that bubbles up his throat at the sight of you. Skirt flipped up with three fingers, knuckle deep inside your pretty little pussy as you play a colour by number game on your ipad.
“Fucking hell, darling” he kicks his shoes off, jacket long forgotten on the floor as he crouches down in front of you.
You pull your slick covered fingers out of your cunt, gently circling your clit as you blink down at him.
“Couldn’t wait until I got home?”
“I got bored” you whine, legs falling open wider and Namjoon takes that as his invitation to run his thumb through your slit.
His hands hold your thighs in place as he leans down to press a kiss over your clit, tongue slipping from between his lips to lick over the bundle of nerves.
You hips stutter as his tongue drags across your folds, another wave of arousal seeping out your cunt at the unexpected nudge of his tongue against you hole.
Your fingers tangle into your boyfriend’s hair as he sucks over your clit, fingers teasing your entrance before he’s pushing two fingers inside of you.
“How pretty” he coos, accompanied by a wet squelch. “The prettiest little pussy, it’s a wonder how you fit anything inside of you”
You squirm, finger stuffed into your mouth as you try and hold back an embarrassed moan.
“Not little” you whine, hips chasing Namjoon’s fingers each time he pulls out.
“Oh, but you are” your thighs twitch as his warm breath brushes over your sensitive clit, hours of mindless toying with your cunt bringing you to the brink of an orgasm.
Namjoon kisses over your mound, kisses over your clit, and then kisses over his fingers as they curl up inside of you.
He can’t help the smile that pulls at his cheeks at the guttural moan you let out when he finds that particular spot inside of you.
“Cum for me, darling” his voice breathless, as he starts to scissor his fingers.
All it takes is one mean little nip to your clit and you’re tipping over the edge; legs shaking as they clamp around your boyfriend’s head.
His tongue continues to flick over your clit, fingers nestled deep within your walls as he helps you ride out your high.
“Enough” you whimper, tugging his head away from between your legs.
You squirm at the glossy sheen that covers Namjoon’s chin when he finally pulls away from your pussy.
“Well done” his hands run up and down your trembling thighs, “Think you can take a little more?”
Your eyes flicker down to his cock, heavy in his pants and you nod; tongue wetting your lips.
“My good girl”
Namjoon pulls you to lay across the length of the couch, fingers tugging your blouse over your head as you shuck off your skirt.
You tug messily at the back of your bra, and Namjoon smiles, bending down to help you.
He groans, taking one of your nipples into his mouth as he palms himself through his slacks.
“God, you’re so pretty”
Your squeak when he bites the plush skin, trail of kisses searing as he reaches your neck.
Your hands fumble with his pants, waistband pulled taught as your try and slip your fingers into his underwear.
“Always so impatient, aren’t you?” he coos, “here let me help you”
You pout at the loss of warmth, the loss of his large body completely covering your own; hands grabbing for neck when he sits up on his knees.
Your hips rock upwards, silently begging for any sort of stimulation as you watch Namjoon’s cock spring free, slapping against his stomach.
Your pussy gushes another wave of slick at the sight of your boyfriend with his hand wrapped around his cock, his hands always had been big; swallowing the girth of his cock when your fingers barely wrapped around it.
You can feel the phantom ache in your jaw, countless times he’d shoved his dick into your mouth, splitting it open like he would your cunt with absolutely no mercy.
“You’re staring” though there’s no embarrassment in his tone, eyebrow lifted cocky and lazy smile tugging at your lips.
“Inside, please” you whine, legs falling open enough for him to slot in place.
“Of course, sweetheart”
Your legs tremble in anticipation, eyes squeezing shut as he runs the head through the slit; slicking up his length before he’s pushing at your entrance.
“You sure you can fit me?” you can hear the laugh in his voice, retort on the tip of your tongue only he chooses that moment to nudge the tip of his cock over your clit.
“Joonie” you complain, “please, need you”
And Namjoon watches, lets you, grab onto his length, watching as you rut your hips down until he’s popping inside of you.
Your walls constrict around him, and he’s absolutely fascinated by how such a small pussy is even able to stretch around him.
“Good girl” and he can’t help the moan that follows.
He’s barely thrusting, gentle roll of his hips feeding each inch of his cock into your wet cunt.
You moan like he was ramming into you, always so sensitive, always so responsive to his touch.
“Feel good?” he asks when he finally bottoms out, thighs connected and heartbeats in sync. It’s moments like these Namjoon revels being alive, being one with you. Truly the closest you’ll ever be to one another; and he thinks he finally feels complete when lodged between your sodden walls.
“So deep” you whisper, fingers skimming over your stomach.
Namjoon pulls your legs over his shoulders, bending forwards until you’re almost folded in half.
Your moan is breathless when he gently pulls out, only to snap his hips back into you.
Your hands grasp onto the pillows of the couch as Namjoon picks up his pace, your tits bouncing, and cunt squelching with every brutal thrust into you.
“Fucking hell, you are tiny” Namjoon groans, and you whimper as his hand presses down on your lower stomach.
You dare take a look, hiccup of a moan ripped from your throat as you see it. An outline of his cock right bellow your belly button, head nudging the taught skin with each thrust into you, only for it to disappear as he pulls out.
Your fingers splay over it, cunt convulsing around his length as your feel him move under your skin.
You feel it rising, pussy swollen and worn from your previous orgasm. Namjoon seems to know, he always knows when you’re slowly climbing to the peak of high.
His fingers find clit, tight little circles sending jolts of pure, blissful pleasure through your body, another wave of arousal seeping out your cunt to soak his cock.
“Gonna cum for me?” he moans between eat thrust, “Be a good girl and cum for me”
The cry you let out is near pornographic, knees knocking against the side of Namjoon’s head as he continues to flick at your clit. Pleasure numbing that when you finally reach your high, your mind blanks, a blanket of fluff consuming you as Namjoon continues to jackhammer into your used cunt.
“Doing so well for me. So close. I’m so close” he groans, fingers finally pulling off your clit as your thighs continue to shake.
When you come to, Namjoon’s thrusts are a sloppy, thrusts barely coordinated as he ruts into you.
And your breath hitches at the final twitch of his cock, he pushes as far into you as he can before he’s cumming.
Thick waves of cum filling you up. He groans as you clench around him, walls still spasming from your own release. And he gently rocks into you, an attempt to push his cum as deep into your soiled cunt as possible.
“You did so well, darling” he swallows thickly, back of his hand wiping the sheen of sweat from his forehead.
You whine as he begins to pull out, mixture of both your releases dribbling out of your hole.
Your thighs twitch when Namjoon parts your lips, hole clenching around nothing as you push another wave of his cum out of your pussy. His fingers scoop it up, circling your entrance before he’s pushing them back between your walls.
“What do you think about a bath?” he hums, watching your eyes fall droopy.
You nod, hands blindly grabbing for your boyfriend to pick you up.
He smiles down at you, arms slipping beneath your body to pick you up as he wanders further into the house.
You wriggle around when he flips the light on, eyes stinging a little at the sudden burst of brightness.
“Alright missy” he sits you on the toilet, and you lean your head against his hip as pee, bones too floppy to even think of holding yourself up.
You remain sat on the toilet as he runs a bath, fussy when he picks you up again though it’s easily soothed with a gentle kiss to your lips.
He thinks you fall asleep as he washes your back, gentle as his soapy hands grope your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples and you squirm at that.
Namjoon is endeared when the two of you finally get out the bath, skin soft and sweet smelling, perfect for kisses. And he can’t help the laugh that bubbles up his throat when you kick your pyjamas away, refusing to put them on yourself when his hands were fully capable.
“Oh my little princess” he kisses both your cheeks, “How about some cake for being such a good girl?”
You see, Namjoon had always been a little bit of a liar. Had told so many lies that truly he didn’t know the what was real and what was not anymore. And if he didn’t know then you never would either.
Every little lie he’d told you from the start, every white lie, every left out detail of his life suddenly seemed insignificant when you were tucked under his chin, sleeping so peacefully, a true sleeping beauty.
And maybe he didn’t really like the classics. Maybe his real love of novels were romances, because he’d always be the prince and you’d always be his princess. A perfect fairytale that would always have a happy ending.
Because if anyone dared scribble out the pages, change his plot, then he would simply erase their existence, and the readers of his life would never know the difference.
You belonged to him. You are his as much as he is yours.
Your life his only reason. Your happiness that little spark of good that still resides inside him. And as long as you come home every day with that same pretty little smile on your face, then Namjoon feels no guilt for the countless people that lay dead, long forgotten by the world as they rest six feet under for daring bring you sadness. Because he’d erased them, with no way to wiggle their way back into the story of his life.
Because what was a prince if he couldn’t take care of a villain that would disturb his perfect fairytale ending?
2K notes · View notes
Text
reconnaissance (1/3)
Bucky Barnes x f!reader
Tumblr media
Reader goes on a recon mission with the White Wolf himself, formerly the Winter Soldier, which goes awry.
(a.k.a. you two idiots are clearly in love but don't do anything about it, until circumstances become so heightened that you are forced to)
masterlist ▪︎ word count: <1k
Tumblr media
"Come in, do you copy?"
You keep walking, ignoring Bucky's increasingly grating tone in your earpiece.
"Respond, do you hear me? Meet back at the rendezvous in 2 minutes." Bucky tries again, seemingly deciding that this recon stint is done and dusted. Without even consulting you.
"I know what I'm doing, Buck." You keep up your pace, tailing the man you're supposed to gather intel on. He rounds the corner and unlocks a room, presumably his own office on the base, and disappears inside. "I'll meet you as soon as I'm finished."
"You are finished." Bucky snaps right back. He's only a block away, but he's getting worried that if something were to happen to you, he wouldn't make it on time. "We're only meant to scout the area, assess their operation. Not tail them right inside their fuckin' HQ."
"Woah there, grandpa, watch your language." You smirk, and you can picture him grinding his teeth in frustration. Why is he so worried anyhow? From what you've gathered, this organization is made up of a bunch of blip fanatics who want to restore the world to how Thanos left it. Balanced, sure, as the old shriveled grape said. But also in chaos - with everyone sufferring loss and living listlessly.
These people are insane. And insane is easy to handle, as far as you're concerned. Not one of the big 3 - aliens, androids, and wizards - just pure idiotic nutters.
Bucky has resorted to pacing on the roof of the dilapidated apartment complex he uses as a viewpoint. "Something's not right here. The man you're tailing was never meant to head to their HQ today. I have a feeling they found us out."
"Did they also figure that I would not give a rat's ass about that and - "
"Take the bait?" Bucky interjects.
"No. That I would beat them at their own game. " You whisper irately. You pause when the man comes out of his office and walks away from where you hide. "Wait, I'm going in."
"Don't do anything stupid, doll." Bucky pleads. For a moment, you want to cave in. He no longer sounds bossy, or annoying, like he tends to be on missions where it's just the two of you. He usually tells you to stick to the plan, to stick with him. Like you're incapable of going off on your own. Sure, he has decades more experience, and the effects of a Super Soldier serum to boot, but you wish he would just trust you. But he sounds like he's either desperate to get back home and get this shit over with, or he actually cares that much about you. "Just come back to me. Now. "
"Bucky," you breathe, steadying yourself. "C'mon. This'll be just like that time in Gdansk."
He feels an ounce of relief creeping in. Maybe you're right. "Then I'll be waiting for you, doll. Like always."
Doll. That still sends shivers up your spine. But he doesn't have to know that, does he? You walk up to the office door, and try to make quick work of the lock. "I won't be long. And quit calling me doll."
"What then? Princess?"
"No."
"Sweetheart? Has a nice ring to it." He counters quickly. He must have been sitting on this one for a while.
"Bucky - "
"Yes, darlin'?"
"Alright, that's it. I'm done with this conversation." You warn him, but the colouring on your cheeks betray your tone. Good thing he's not around to call you out on it. The lock gives way, and the door creaks open. "I'm in."
"Damn it." You hear him mumble to himself, seconds later. "Why does she never listen? I think she's actually trying to kill me. Give me a damn heart attack."
"That's likely, isn't it?" You give an unsolicited response. "Considering that you're about 100 years old."
"106, actually." He quips back, pinching the bridge of his nose, tapping his foot, taking deep breaths. He tries everything to calm down and not agonize over you. But nothing works. Bucky doesn't know what he would do if anything were to happen to you.
No. That's not quite right. He doesn't know what he wouldn't do - because he would do anything, kill anyone, just to get you back.
And you just can't seem to grasp that. Though it might have something to do with how he constantly hovers over you like an overprotective older brother, with Sam once remarking how you've got yourself a personal bodyguard. You think that's all it is - Bucky being a nice guy. Bucky watching your back as you would do the same for him. Bucky wanting to keep you in line, so that the missions would go smoothly, especially since he is technically acting as your superior.
You don't see how Bucky's gaze lingers a bit too long on your lips when you relay your mission reports to him. How his hand often finds itself hovering over the small of your back when you walk side by side. You don't know that he observed (not stalked, according to him) how your date played out with that one fellow agent that asked you out. How he tried to find solace in the bottom of a bottle when you invited that agent back to your apartment.
And how he made arrangements to have that agent indefinitely reassigned to Eastern Europe the week after.
The office you enter is encased in shadow, the window shutters all lowered. You're careful not to turn on any switches, so as not to trigger alarms. With steady hands, you raise your Beretta 92FS before you, the accompanying flashlight illuminating the room.
Then you see it. A map of the city pinned to a board covering the east wall.
"Talk to me," Bucky barks in your ear. "What do you see?"
"Jackpot." You can't help but grin. Breaking Bucky's rules pays off after all. This'll show him. "It looks like some blueprint for how they plan to infiltrate the city. Red markings for the areas where they will release the poison in the water supply."
"And how the hell do you know that?"
"Well, boss," you roll your eyes. "probably because there's a note at the bottom of the damn map that says release poison in water supply."
"Oh."
Yeah. Oh.
"Don't take it with you," he starts, but you beat him to it.
"Course I won't. I've already got the whole thing memorized to a tee."
"Get out of there. Now." Bucky emphasizes, and you don't know whether to be touched by how worried he sounds.
"Alright, alright, keep your hair on." Taking one final look at the scene, you head back to the door. But the handle doesn't budge. "That's weird."
At that, Bucky knew something was definitely not right. As if he did not already warn you stay out of there. His blood runs cold, and he springs into action before you can say anything further. Sprinting down the street, he tries to get you to keep talking. "I told you not to do this, doll. I told you."
"I can handle it." But the door stays closed. It doesn't even respond to your exceptional lock-picking skills. You hear a whooshing sound to your right, like a mechanical panel opening. At once, you get into a defensive stance, gun at the ready.
You don't see anything, but you can smell it. It's some kind of gas. A strong sedative, you recall from your training.
"Oh, shit." You mutter. Holding your breath can only keep you safe for so long.
"Goddamnit," Bucky curses while running, not even out of breath, "it's gas, isn't it? I knew it, I just knew it, doll!"
"I'll try the windows." You offer, but quickly find out they're of no use. Sealed shut, like the door.
Bucky's rambling now, desperate. "Should've listened... you should've... stay with me, doll. Stay with me."
You still hear his voice as white spots flood your vision. Dread sinks in as you succumb to the sensation, but you steel yourself. You will get through this. You will.
Especially when you've got Bucky promising, "I'm coming for you, doll. No one is taking you from me."
Tumblr media
(a/n) yes, I've rewatched tfatws again. Which prompted this lil thing. Not that I was not absolutely besotted with our Bucky for a good long time back in the day (still am). Are y'all more for Steve or Bucky? Both would be better ofc, but I've never been able to choose. Let me know! 🤷🏻‍♀️💙
part 2 coming shortly!
339 notes · View notes
sailoryooons · 1 year
Note
Request: Alpha Yoongi x omega reader. Werewolves. Smut and fluff. Dom Yoongi and sub reader. Starting with non-sexual dominance like her kneeling at his feet. Then, kind of a fear/primal chase in the woods as foreplay. Smut. And then aftercare with nesting.
Tumblr media
❀ Pairing: Alpha Werewolf!Yoongi x Omega werewolf! F. reader
❀ Summary: Your alpha wants to go on a hunt through the woods. Who are you to deny him?
❀ Word Count: 8,727
❀ Genre: A/b/o, werewolves, supernatural, established relationship
❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 
❀ Warnings: I have never used the word scent and smells this much in my life please forgive me for I have used it a million times, alpha/omega dynamics, Yoongi chasing through the reader for fun, light predator/prey play, sexually explicit content including unprotected sex (f. receiving), breeding kink, mention of ruts, oral sex (f. receiving) not a lot of foreplay, a ton of being in subspace and hormone drunk, reader is pretty much a pillow princess/borderline free use for Yoongi, a lot of slick and soft dom Yoongi/sub reader, hint at aftercare and nesting
❀ Published: April 11, 2023
❀ A/N: Hi okay so I re-wrote this like three times because every time I did it, I wasn’t getting what I wanted out of filling this request, but I think I finally have something that I am happy with! It went in a little bit of a different place, but I hope that you like it! I am super unused to writing werewolves and a/b/o and I had such a good time dipping my toe in - it’s something I want to write in the future where I have some room to world build and go crazy on word count hehehe. Enjoy!
❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.
Masterlist | Ask | Milestone Event Request Fill |
Trees flash by you as you run, hands pumping at your sides, heart thundering in your chest. A pack of rabbits startle as you run by, bolting into their little dens. The earth is damp beneath your feet, still saturated with morning rain. You almost loose your footing more than once as you spring over a fallen tree, dry-rotted and full of ants.
The pine trees are packed tight, shafts of moonlight painting the forest floor in spotlights of silver as you run. The low-hanging branches catch you on your flight, needles stinging your skin but not drawing blood. Still, you snarl as a branch cracks under your barefoot, sending a sharp pang through your sole. 
You don’t stop, moving blindly toward the south of your territory. You don’t look over your shoulder to see where he is - you don’t need to. Even with a small head start, Yoongi is far faster than you are, and you swear the land changes at his command, putting tangled vines where you don’t remember them being, adding a hole to trip you up as you sprint through the trees. 
Yoongi isn’t magic, of course. He cannot change the lay of the land any more than you can, but he walks among these trees and hills every night. Plus, you’re frantic in your runaway, your human instincts bluring, somewhere between wolf and person. 
Run, little omega, Yoongi had whispered, pupils blown out, scent heady and hypnotizing. You’d only just come through the door to find him standing in the living room on the edge of pre-rut. Run and don’t let me catch you. 
Except Yoongi is going to catch you. You can hear the squirrels in the trees chattering angrily at him as he crashes through the woods behind you. He doesn’t have to be quiet - he is the top of the food chain here, he has nothing to fear. And neither do you, really. You’re a predator too, a wolf born and bred in these woods.
There is only a single thing you are prey to and he is laughing manically behind you as he hunts you down. 
Movement to your right catches your eye. Yoongi’s trying to cut you off, coming from the west of the woods to intercept you as you scramble south. You snarl and change direction, swerving southeast to put distance between the two of you. 
“Ah, come on, omega!” he hollers behind you, voice closer than you expect. You move faster, desperate to outrun him.
This far south of your house is a ravine. You know that if you slide down the side and run east, you’ll end up in Jungkook’s territory. A place your’e definitely not allowed to go, especially right now. You throw caution to the wind anyways, making a line for the ravine, singularly focused on making the slide down. 
You never make it, Yoongi slamming into your side and knocking you off your feet. You scream as you go down hard, but not hard enough to do more than jar your bones. Yoongi takes the brunt of your fall; you pressed against his chest, his back hitting the ground hard before he rolls. 
Gasping for breath, you claw at him, scraping to move from where he has you pinned. He laughs, catching your hands in one fist and slamming them above your head. His grip and the sound of him snarling your name has you snap to attention, going boneless. 
Yoongi is panting heavily against you, filling your space with his scent. Your eyes flutter as your chest heaves, trying to catch your breath. Every inhale has your sense flooding with Yoongi’s scent: pine and sage, edged with something heaver and muskier. 
Alpha near rut. 
It makes your head spine and for a second, your vision of him goes a little blurry. He lets go of your hands but you don’t move. He knows you won’t, pinned under the heavy weight of him as he straddles your waist, sitting on you. 
Blinking the heaviness from your eyes, you look up at him and it feels like the world stops. 
Yoongi’s round face is framed by dark, black hair. It’s a little damp with sweat, clinging to his brow bone. His feline eyes are sharp and wild, pupils dilated with the frenzy of the hunt. A single, dark scar mars his right eye. You used to feel a pang of guilt looking at it, a reminder of what being an alpha had cost him. 
Now, though, you think of it fondly. You’ve traced it hundreds of times with your fingers, know every smooth and knotted surface of the injury. Yoongi is beautiful with and without it, lips glossy as his tongue darts out to wet them.
“You smell so good,” Yoongi growls, leaning down. You hold your breath as he leans toward your neck, nosing the scent gland there. Stars burst behind your eyes and you shiver underneath him, let out a whimper. He laughs, the sound low and scratchy in your ear. “Could smell you all the way from the house.” Yoong’s hands runs down your hips, skirts your thigh, and slips between your legs. He presses his fingers against your jeans. “Could smell this perfect little cunt for miles.”
A high-pitched whine leaves you as Yoongi presses harder, fingers providing the barest amount of friction. The ache between your legs is growing painful, your stomach twisting in arousal in response to the smell of him, the touch of him. An omega responding to their alpha in pre-rut, nearly on the brink of instrictual frenzy. 
Forming coherent thoughts is difficult, especially when you’re mind is in a state that’s more wolf than human. That’s the struggle with werewolves, toeing the line between human and animal. Instinct and choice. Your body does not choose to respond to him on a chemical level, but you don’t mind. It’s Yoongi. Your Yoongi. Your mate. 
“I told you not to get caught.”
You huff, irritation stoking you. He mouths at your throat over your gland, making you nearly pass out. “You’re faster than I am.”
“That isn’t true.”
Yoongi distracts you with a wet, hot lick over your mating mark. You let out a loud moan, not even trying to hide it this time. He laughs as you squirm under him, silenced when he growls your name. “Is that true, omega?” He asks, mouthing at your jaw. You can hardly understand his line of questioning as your thoughts and feelings blur. “Am I really faster than you?”
For a few moments, you don’t respond. Everything feels heightened, the sound of Yoongi’s voice buzzing against the corner of your mouth as he brushes his lips across your skin, not kissing you exactly. You’re hyper-aware of the smell of him, threatening to drive you into madness. Feel the way his hips press to against yours. 
“Omega.” Yoongi’s voice is final. 
“No,” you admit. “You’re not faster than me.” 
“So you let me catch you?” 
“I thought about it.” Yoongi nose bumps yours. Your eyes flutter shut as his mouth barely touches yours and you speak against his lips, “But then I decided I wanted to win.”
“And you were running to Jungkook’s hmm?” You wince and he hums, knowing he’s right. “Bad omega. Little wolves running into another alphas territory while they’re being hunted isn’t a very good idea, huh?”
“Would you have followed?”
“Of course I would. You’re mine. I would follow you into a fucking fire. Little Jungkookie’s territory is nothing.”
It’s a simple declaration, but you know what it means for an alpha to boldly claim he would enter another wolf’s territory, to break a line of demarcation. You can’t help but smile, leaning your head upward to press a kiss to his lips, hungry and tired of running from him. 
Yoongi lets you, though you feel the shape of a smirk through the sweet taste of his mouth, warm against yours. Yoongi sinks his hips heavily against yours and you moan into his mouth, spurring him further. Your hands remain where he left them, outstretched above your head as he licks into you, no longer content to let you kiss him the way you want. 
His kisses consume you. He takes your breath away, hand leaving the apex of your thighs to snake up your front, loosely gripping your throat. You feel dizzy. He doesn’t squeeze, doesn’t do anything but rest his hand at the base of your neck, fingers pressed lightly to the sides of your throat. 
It’s comforting, having him smother you like this. You get lost in the wet tangle of his tongue, your skin burning up from the inside out. He rolls his hips into you, but it’s not enough. You need him, a fire sparking to life that burns hotter than you can manage.
A feverish need comes over you. Yoongi senses the shift. His kisses turn to bites, teething gently at your skin as he works you out of your clothes. You still haven’t moved your hands and when he glances at them, he grins. 
Your eyes are only for him, shrouded in darkness as he pulls your pants down, then your shirt. Your eyes are sharp in the dark, able to see the rippling muscle of his arms and shoulders. The dusty nipples, the swells and planes of his chest and stomach. See the way his gaze is fucked out when he’s barely touched you, shuffling down your legs, hands skimming and grabbing the soft meat of your thighs. 
“Look at you,” he murmurs, eyes dragging from the wet smear down your thighs, to your hands above your head. You whine under his gaze and he grins, feral and sharp. “So obedient for me.”
“You like hands above head until you say so.”
“I do.” Yoongi bows low, grabbing your legs and hiking them over his shoulders. Your world spins, feeling his breath on your cunt as he makes a low sound in his throat. “Fucking wet, just how I like it.” 
Yoongi licks a sloppy path up your pussy and you gasp, head digging back into the grass. It’s almost painful, the need for him pulsing between your legs. He hums, sucking at your clit hungrily. Your toes curl and you hide your face in your arm, the urge to squirm away from the stimulation strong.  
You’re an exposed wire under Yoongi’s tongue as he eats you out, messy and wet. He laps at your hole, eager to taste you, nose pressed against your clit, teasing. You whimper his name, thighs clenching, fisting your hands together as you fight to remain still. It’s nearly impossible, this stillness he’s asked of you. You want to reach down and thread your fingers through his hair, want to dig your nails in and scratch, want to pull him close and shove him away.
The sounds he makes are obscene, alternating between sucking loudly and flicking his tongue against your throbbing clit. It’s pleasure-laced pain. You want him to fuck you, to sink into you as deep as he can until you can’t do anything but take it. But you like this too, the way Yoongi’s tongue works your clenching hole.
A high-pitched keen leaves your mouth. He looks up at you, eyes half-lidded as he sticks his tongue out, making a show of licking your cunt top to bottom. Your tongue is heavy in your mouth as you mumble his name, speech slurred. 
“Hmm?” he asks, grunting against you as he works you closer to an orgasm, which hovers in the distance. He looks up at you again, sees the tears lining your eyes. “You can touch me,” he murmurs, saying the world between lush licks between your folds. “Greedy omega.”
And so what if you are greedy. Yoongi gives you everything you want. He makes a grumble about it, rolling his eyes and sometimes acting like it’s a little inconvenience, but you know he loves it- loves this. Loves letting you get away with things when you ask sweetly.
Yoongi’s hair is silky and a little sweaty as you run your fingers through it, nails scratching at his scalp the way he likes. His moan is muffled against your pussy and you wriggle beneath him. It feels so good, your stomach in knots. Your limbs begin to tingle and you feel that tight, squeezing feeling in your core, clenching hard. 
You squeeze your eyes shut. Dig your nails into Yoongi’s scalp and he growls at the pain. You think your breaking skin, nails turned into claws, limbs shaking as your orgasm tightens and tightens until it feels like you can’t breath, like the world is going to crack in half. 
And then it breaks. Your orgasm floods out of you in a rush, your muscle spasming so hard that you scream. Heels digging into the dirt, fingers tangled in Yoongi’s hair, head whipped to the side, cheek pressed into the ground and eyes squeezed shut so hard you see colors exploded behind your eyelids. 
Heavy-limbed and feeling drunk, you drop your legs open a bit. Yoongi’s hands are on your hips, flipping you over. You don’t have the strength to hold yourself up, hands buckling under you, face pressed to the back of your palms. He says something that you can’t hear, your head still swimming in the clouds. 
Every one of your joints feels melted, unable to lock together to support your weight. It doesn’t matter. Yoongi does it for you, lifting you up so that you’re on your knees, thighs spread wide. Air cools the wet mess on your legs. You realize you’re dripping past your knees. 
Yoongi’s palms feel like fire on your flushed skin. He wraps and arm around your waist, pulling you back to his chest, the other looping under your arm so he can grab your neck firmly. This time, he does squeeze, fingers placed perfectly on the sides of your throat. 
Everything around you feels like cotton candy fuzz, fluffy and sweet. Your head lolls back, resting on his shoulder as his teeth find your shoulder, nipping your skin. Behind you, his cock slides gently between your folds, making you hiss. 
“Gonna fill up this pussy,” Yoongi murmurs. “Gonna fuck you full, yeah?”
You nod your head. “Yeah.” The word slurs on your tongue. “Please, want it.”
“You’re already fucked out from just my mouth, omega.” 
“So?” 
He chuckles darkly. His cockhead catches your clenching hole and you whine, hands going to clutch the arm on your waist and holding your throat. “Have you no decency, hm?”
“No. Yoongi please, it hurts. Please just - please.”
“Shhh.” Yoongi places a warm, wet kiss on your jaw. “I’ve got you. You know I’ve got you?”
Words are too hard, so you nod. Yoongi places another sweet kiss on your cheek before he shuffles and thrusts into you, smooth on the upstroke. You gasp, breath knocked out of you as he slides to the hilt. Yoongi’s cock is thick and though you’re soaked, the stretch is intense, your walls clinging to him in a vice grip.
Behind you, Yoongi curses. His hand tightens, and it gets just a little bit harder to breath. Slowly, he retracts before snapping forward again, stroke slow but hard. He groans, focused on setting a leisurely and smooth pace. Every thrust of his hips makes his cock hit deep, punching the air from your lungs. With his fingers pressing against your throat, it gets harder to take in more air, making you light-headed, the forest spinning. 
It feels so good, this blooming pleasure inside of you. Every time he hits your soft spot just right, you feel closer to madness. Yoongi squeezes your throat tighter. His skin is warm and sweaty, sliding against yours, the friction making your eyes roll back.
Yoongi’s teeth scrape your shoulder. Sink in just a little, not enough to draw blood, but you feel the sting. It’s good, pleasure-laced pain. And then he’s telling you to let go, to come around him. You deny your alpha nothing, eyes fluttering shut as you squeeze tight tight tight. 
“Fuck,” Yoongi snarls. You come so hard he has to stop thrusting, your pussy clenching around him with everything you’ve got. You’re not breathing, air stuck in your lungs, blood rushing in your eyes, stars behind your eyes. “Breathe,” Yoongi pants, letting go of your throat. You suck in a sharp breath of air, flooding your lungs. “That’s it. You can take it, yeah? Can take it til I fill you up?”
“Yes, alpha.”
It’s a mumble of words. You’re not even sure if it comes out right. Yoongi holds you to him, doesn’t mind that you're boneless. Your fingers thread his where his hands grip you, squeezing as your head cradles against his neck. You nose him there, drawing all sorts of feral sounds from him as he chases his orgasm, driven to the edge while you scent him. He comes with a loud sound, maybe your name or something else. You’re not sure. 
Yoongi smells like home. Well - smells like earth and come and sweat and trees and pheremones. But his smell is there, pine and sage. Wild and gentle. Earth and cleansing. You love the smell of him, you have since you met him. 
“Rest.” Yoongi’s voice sounds faraway. “I’ve got you.” 
Weightlessness takes over. You don’t remember moving and you don’t remember Yoongi pulling out of you and picking you up. You’re drunk off his scent, hormones throwing you over the cliff and into a deep lake, where you float aimlessly. Comforted. 
Soft sheets slide against your skin. You turn your face and breathe in, smelling Yoongi everywhere. It’s warm and you smell you too. Rosemary and mint. Your scents linger together, making you feel at home. Loved. Safe. 
Something jostles you a little. You slow-blink an eye open, realizing you’re at home, tucked into the corner of your room you like to use for nesting. Blankets of Yoongi’s are piled eye and there are shirts and hoodies that belong to him. Some shirts that belong to you. Things that remind you of the two of you, that feel like you both. 
Yoongi is tucked behind you, breath puffing against your ear. His eyes are closed when you curve your head to look at him. “Sleep,” he rasps, not opening his eyes. “And thank you for the hunt. I’m not done with you. But I’m tired.” 
You smile and close your eyes, drifting to sleep in the safety of Yoongi’s arms.
1K notes · View notes
misguidedasgardian · 5 months
Text
The Hour of the Wolf (4)
Tumblr media
IV. It is you
MASTERLIST
Summary: Pressures makes wind, earthquakes, and marriages
Pairing: Cregan Stark x Targaryen!Reader
Warnings: Cursing, war, death, mentions of killings, genocide and war, threats,arranged marriage, SPOILERS for ASOIAF, and Fire & Blood, also, might spoil House of the Dragon, 
+18, MINORS DNI
Wordcount: 3.8 k 
Notes: I don;t think this is going to be a love story, this is about politics, and a truly arranged marriage, their relationship will develop of course, but I just wanted to get that out there
Tumblr media
“You have done a great job with her”, Cregan raised his eyes to encounter the mythical Jeyne Arryn, cousin to the late Queen Aemma, keeper of the East, Lady of the Eyrie, they both contemplated you as you sat the Iron Throne and gave audiences
“I have done nothing, it’s all her”, he said severely
“You are good with her, for her”, she said then, looking at him with her piercing blue eyes
“I know what you are implying…”
“She needs a husband”, she said
“You should stay here in court, as her hand when I leave”, he said almost at the same time
“You can’t leave her”
“I have to, I have a child…”
“She needs you, the realm needs you”
“The North needs me, she will be fine”
“You know that is not true, she is still too young to differ allies from foes”
“She will learn”
“At the cost of the realms”, Cregan Stark looked at her severely, but he had met her equal, this woman was not going to back down
“What about my son? What about my people? How is that going to work?”, he asked then
“You can come and go”
“A year at a time”
“Maybe”, she said. The small council had been relentless, just as Jeyne was being 
His name was in that alliance
He pledged to take you to wife, you, in name, regardless of who you had become… you were his betrothed. And it’s not like he gave his word lightly, only, like he said, he need a wife and a lady of Winterfell, he did not want to become the King consort of the Seven Kingdoms, he did not want to take care of you… forever…
But he had taken the capital for you
Yes he promised your mother…
But he had done it for you, an unknown princess, on his mind
He found himself looking straight at you
Like the first time he saw you, he thought, again, you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Since he took the capital, color had returned to your face, you no longer had darkness under your eyes, your cheeks were fuller, you also filled your dresses more, meaning you were eating more, sleeping longer…
You were better
His eyes then trailed over all the faces of the Lords gathered there in the throne room, lickspittles, asskissers, many of them, without honor, just hunger for power and gold
Did he really care for what happens to the people of the other six Kingdoms? Were you really in danger? Kings had been surrounded by traitors all their lives and nothing major had happened…
Well… until Otto fucking Hightower
No, he couldn’t let that happen again
He thought he only wanted to bring justice to the traitors, but it wasn’t true, he cared about what happened
He cared about what happens to you…
The realization made him shift on his feet
He cared about you 
He did not want you to get married to someone who was going to please the small council and take your place eventually, who was going to manipulate you or worse
He didn’t want you married to someone who…
No… he just didn’t want you married to anyone else… that’s it
The bare thought made him shiver
You felt yourself being watched intensely, and found Cregan Stark’s eyes
You felt your cheeks heated, as you looked away like a little girl who had been caught doing something silly 
You were only a young woman, barely turned eight and ten name days
And Cregan was only a young man who had the power of the biggest country in the seven kingdoms and wanted to use it to avenge his Queen
He was himself impulsive, reckless even, maybe the rest saw him like the greatest choice, but he knew the truth
He wasn’t
What if he tipped you off a ledge? What if he sets you off resulting in the destruction of cities and the annihilation of thousands?
And yet…. He was the only one you trusted
Months on the road, maybe years away from you, years away from his home, his child… There must always be a Stark in Winterfell
But when he leaves you to be in Winterfell, he was going to wish he was in King’s Landing, and when he is here, he wishes he could be in Winterfell, he was already missing it, he wanted to see his son, his five year old son, he had left him in good hands, with his loving half sister, and trusted friends and servants… but still
He was so small, he had it when he was so young, the only thing he had left of his dear friend Arra
If he married you… if…
He was going to give you children, his child, second child, was going to sit the Iron Throne one day… and his oldest was going to be Lord of Winterfell
That was… enticing, to say the least
Too good to be true….
Having children with you, a thought that enticed and scared him in equal measure
A child of Ice and Fire, a child who was going to be a Northerner by blood and a dragon rider as well…
He shifted on his feet again
He wanted it
And he could pretend he had a choice all he wanted, but he didn’t… he had signed the pact… the woman… the Queen seated in the Iron Throne…
Was his betrothed
It didn’t have to be two months, a week long boat ride to White harbor and another week on the road and he could be home quickly…
It had to work
Did you want this?
He gave you the service of ending the courts early, and then you abandoned the throne room.
But before he could reach you, he was intercepted by Celtigar
“I need to talk to you”, he said, Cregan only nodded as they walked together to a hallway of the Keep which seemed to be empty
“What is it?” He asked, his patience long gone
“I can marry her”, he said quickly
Cregan stopped in his tracks, and frowned
“You trust me, don’t you?”, he asked when he saw his face
“yes, but…”
“I can get you out of the pact… if she is the one to accept”
He should be relieved, he should have said yes immediately, but the thought of you marrying someone else… he didn’t like it.
Not that he didn’t trust his friend, he did, he was the best choice according to him, the day before he had offered himself, the thing is… he had changed in the last 24 hours… 
He wanted it, you, the seat at your side, the children you were going to give him…
But he wouldn’t even accept it himself, this was deep inside of him, he wanted to protect you, none of those southerners had what it took, only him, he didn’t trust anyone else, not really 
Only him…
“My name is in those papers”, he growled
“But perhaps if I speak to her, began to court her…”
“I’ll talk to her”, he cut him 
“I really think I should be the one…”, with only one look Cregan makes his friend stop speaking. He had just realized what he truly wanted to do, and he did not need to be contradicted now. “You are marrying her, aren’t you?”, he said, a smile sneaking on his friend’s face
“I don’t know yet, I don’t want to pressure her”, Celtigar only hummed
“I want to marry her too”, he said then. Cregan looked at his friend and he understood him, he was challenging him…
“May the best man win her affections then”, Cregan said.
He was not going to lose
And as he walked away Celtigar only smiled, having pushed his friend in the right direction by only pretending to want your hand in marriage
Tumblr media
Cregan had asked Lord Redwyne for help and together they had set you up with young ladies, that shared your age, your ladies in waiting as it were. But instead he found you alone in the Red Keep garden, walking and escorted by one of your white cloaks
“What happened with your ladies in waiting?”, he asked point blank as he approached you, the lack of property, referring to you not as “your grace”, and it made your guard almost wince  
“I send them on their way”, you said simply, leaning in to smell a beautiful flower, barely acknowledging him
“I don’t want you to be lonely”, he said gently, you raised your eyes to look at him 
“yes, I know but they are so… vain… “this lord looked at me”, or “have you seen the dress she was wearing…”, Cregan only smiled condescendingly at you, “and I…”
“You are thinking about the wellness of millions”, he said, “concerned about the future of the entire realm, I understand”
“I understand the need to be distracted for a while, but…”, he only nodded
“I understand”, he said shortly
“Why are you here?”, you asked, nervous, he didn’t understand the change in your dynamic, you had felt confident and calm enough to cry in front of him, but now you were evading his gaze, and shifting in your feet in nerves
In your mind was a bit more clearer
You realized you liked him, you found yourself feeling butterflies in your belly when you saw his handsome face, and you wanted to punch yourself, for being so childish, you were not a young girl in front of her knight in shining armor, you were a Queen now, he was your hand, your advisor, and the head of one of the most important houses on the entire realm.
But you felt your legs shake, and your breath caught in your throat every time you saw him approach you
And every time he was near, you wanted him to stay near you, you felt your chest strangle your heart each time he walked away from you.
Gods this was strange even for you
“I want to ask you something”, he said slowly, you looked at him then, concerned 
“You are leaving”, you said.
You were not an idiot, you knew he had a son, he was the Lord of Winterfell, he needed to rule his home. You couldn’t expect of him to stay here forever 
That took him by surprise
“No”, he said softly
“But you have to go one day, don’t you?”
“That is what I wanted to talk about”, he said softly, your attention was on him then, you tried to pull on those dark feelings that would make you mad at him when he did decided to leave, he could not see that wide-eyed little girl who had a crush on him, not now, and you will not beg when he tells you it was going to be time for him to return home…
“... the marriage offers”, you were lost for a second but that certainly brought you back to attention
“Uh?”, you asked
“You had been offered several hands of many lords over these past few days”
“Did the small council put you up to this?”, you asked, bored
“You need to get married”, he said severely, “we need to make your family strong again, you need to settle your line…”
“I understand”, you said, looking down. You knew he had signed a pact to marry you, but you also did not want to hold him to it, there were different times, it was naive for you to think he was going to hold up his part, he had done enough already 
“A marriage is also an alliance”, he continued, “you need someone who will help you and guide you, but not manipulate you…”
You only nodded
“A strong person, with a powerful family name…”
“If you say Tyland Lannister I swear…”, he chuckled, and shook his head
“No…”, he said. He then stopped all his movements, you felt his gaze on you, so you stopped as well and raised your head and eyes to look at him, “who do you want?”, he asked then
“I’m not sure”, you said, but you did… you wanted him
For the doubt in your mind made him question his own decision. He thought you were going to name him, but you were truly doubtful
You didn’t think he was an option
“I don’t know any of those men”, you said then in a whisper 
“You know some…”, he tried, you looked at him
He felt even guilty for wanting it
He gave in to his deepest desire, of power and lust.
“Yes you are right”, you whispered, looking away from him again, “I just…. need to think this through”, you said with a low voice, you wanted to end this chat
But he didn’t, he needed you to say it
He had heard the small council ask him to, he had heard Lady Jayne Arryn… but he needed to hear it from you.
“There must be someone in your mind”, he said softly, with a gentle, soothing voice
“There was”, you admitted
“Talk to me, I’m your hand”, he continued, “I am here to advice you”
“Until you leave me”, you say then, without thinking, it was barely a whisper
So that’s it, he thought, you resented him for even the mere thought of him abandoning you
“I can come back”, he said then, with a hint of amusement on his voice 
You only hummed, you didn’t believe him, and you were going to feel terribly lost without him, again, alone, like you had been before he saved you…. before he took the city in your name and put you on the throne
He did all of that
There was nobody else you wanted by your side but him
You shared a longing look, a long gaze
What did he want? you asked yourself. He looked like he wanted to listen to you but also to speak, at the same time. You didn’t know what else to say
“What does that mean?”, you asked then. He sighed, loudly
“I signed a pact…”, he said
“Yes, my brother offered my hand in marriage in exchange for your allegiance and your swords”, you said lowly
“No”, he answered back, you looked at him intently, “he asked for my loyalty, he had it already, but he negotiated our union for the simple fact he was scared of something befalling you, he wanted to send you North under my protection to keep you safe from harm, from the war, and from the Greens”
Ah yes, safe from Aemond and Aegon
“That sounds like my brother”, you said, melancholy tainting your voice 
“He wanted to keep you safe”
“In more than one way you had kept your promise”, you assured him, “you took the city, took control…”
“I did”, he said softly, “for you”
“You are going to put a crown in my head”, you said
“In three days”, he said then, “and then you should announced your betrothal”
“I don’t have one”
“You do”, he said finally, his eyes, piercing eyes bore into yours, he dwarfed you in size, and even though he had left his fur cloak behind… he still look big and imposing
“Cregan…”, you called
“Say it”, he encouraged 
“You signed the pact…”, you said.
As you looked at him, you grew angry
What did he want from you? to beg? you didn’t even know. He had signed that past, to marry you one day, and yet, he dodged that part at every turn, he needed to return home, you understood that he had a son, a little boy who needed his father, so why was he here? talking to you in this way? 
“You promised to marry me”, you said softly, he barely nodded, his eyes looking intently at you, “but I understand…”, he frowned then, and you started walking away from him. Letting him standing in the garden
You called in a small council meeting, on your own accord
They were right, you needed to make your family bigger and stronger…
“I called in this meeting because I have to make a demand”, you said firmly, your small council looking amongst each other, Cregan was silent, playing with the dragon eye in front of him
“Tomorrow the Barahteon will present themselves to me, and I want to tell you my intentions so you’ll be prepared”, you said firmly, “It is to my understanding that princess Jahaera, daughter of Aegon the Usurper, is still in Storm’s End…”
“As a guest”, said lord Lannister
“As a hostage”, you said then, “It is to my understanding that she was on her way here, when Aegon was poisoned”, you said softly, “I know because it was discussed at the dinner table in front of me, yet, she is not here, I understand they are trying to keep her safe as some sort of leverage, but…”, you continued, and then you soften your gaze, “I want her here, she is a little girl, a Targaryen, daughter to my lovely aunt Helaena, and she should be with me and Aegon, with family”, you said softly
“Your grace is most graceful”, muttered the Maester, the others murmured their affirmations
“Tomorrow I will demand of the Baratheons to bring little Jahaera back to me, when she is here, we will betrothed her to Aegon, to finally solidify the family and end this madness”, yous aid with a soft smile
Aemond, Aegon, Alicent and Otto are and will burn in hell
But not Helaena and her children
She was an angel, so were the little boys that lost her lives
Jahaera was the only one left, you owe it to Helaena to keep her safe
After the affirmation and support of your small council, you walked towards your little brother’s chambers
He had become so quiet and sad, which was expected, but still, you tried to keep his mind busy, you would put Septas and maesters to teach him and accompany him, at all ours, soon, one of your King’s guards will teach him the art of the sword.
Now you make sure to sit and dine with him
Even though he barely spoke
“Jahaera will come to court soon”, you whispered to him as you served yourself a cup of wine
“Who was Jahaera?”, he asked innocently, of course he didn’t remember 
“Helaena’s child”, you said, “she is your age, you can have fun together”
“Oh”, it's the only thing he said, while continue to have little pieces of bread and meat 
“Maybe one day you can get married”, you said lightly
“When are you getting married?”, he asked then and made you laugh
“Soon, but I don’t know with whom!”, you said as it was a joke, it was sad that it was true
“Marry Cregan”, he said simply
“WHy?”, you asked him, amazed
“I see the way he looks at you”, he said simply
“How does he look at me?”, you asked him
“As papa looked at mama”, he said, and you got quiet
“He has to go back North”, yous aid lightly
“You can command him to stay, you are the Queen”, he said, still not looking at you
“If I only command without listening to reason I’m a Tyrant”, you said softly, “not a queen”
“He wants to stay”, he said
“I don’t know if he does, you know Northerners don’t fare well here in the south”, you joked 
“Command him”, he insisted
“Aren’t you a little tyrant?”, you teased, reaching over the table and tickling his side until he squealed in a laugh
But gods if that made you think…
“He looks at you they way papa looked at mama”
Daemon Targaryen wasn’t much of a communicative man, he didn’t need to speak, it was all in his eyes…
He could make men tremble with just his gaze, he could make his children giggle with a wink, and he could make your mother swoon with that sparkle in his eyes.
Even little Aegon could tell 
Even if the nannies took control over your little brother, you were by his side until he fell asleep, and then you went to your own room
You served yourself a cup of wine, another cup of wine.
“Call in Lord Stark please”, you asked Eryk, and he nodded and went to fulfill your requirement 
It was inappropriate, to say the least, to summon a man to your chambers at this late… but you needn't to worry about such matters… Or you did
Your brother was right, you were a Queen, you had to begin to act like one 
Cregan foud you seated by the fire, in a relaxed stance, with a goblet of wine in your hand
“Your grace”, he greeted, he seemed serious, but you believed you found a glint in his eye… you were started to get to know him and his facial expressions, as cold as they may seem
“My Lord Hand”
“You will summon me and believe me, I will attend to your calling, but I must say, if someone sees me coming into your chambers at the hour of the owl, where we are going to be alone…”
“I’m aware”, you said, smiling at him
“What do you need?”, he asked gently, with a smirk on his lips
“Today in the garden…”, you started, “you mentioned the pact you sign”
“Yes I did”, he said
“Why?”, you asked him
“Why?”, he asked back
“Why would you bring it up?”, you asked again, “it seems that you do not intent to honor it”, he got quiet then, analyzing you
“I meant…”
“There is no one else…”, you said, “it is you”, you looked up at him, your eyes sparkling. He softened his gaze
“Is that a command?”, he asked, amusement in his voice, it was like he was playing a game.
“Marry me”, you said, “honor the pact of Ice and Fire�� you can come back home, on the condition of course that you come back…”
“To you”, he said
“To me”, you agreed. “Everyone will be at ease, well, except for the Hightowers, when you sit at my side in the throne…”, you said, he barely nodded, still smiling 
“I don’t think so…”, he said finally, you stopped all your movements, was he rejecting you? he was not going to marry you? you had to command him, if he refused, you could fall through, you couldn’t make a man marry you… you started feeling ashamed of even summoning him here… you were starting to feel like an idiot
He turned his back to you and went to the small table in the corner and served himself a goblet of wine.
“I think they will feel threatened..”, he continued, you smiled then, taking a breath you didn’t know you were holding, “you and me together…”, he continued, taking a sip, “soon they’ll realize… the dragon and the wolf sat together… and they are all sheep”
You both smiled widely at each other 
Tumblr media Tumblr media
this is the vibe I was going for jajaja
Cregan is... complex... everyone wanted a tougher Cregan, i'm giving a gray one. He has ambitions, and wants power, and he is not indiferent to us, the beautiful young Queen... of what I read about Cregan, it is what I perceive... anyways... hope you like... maybe I moved it a bit too quickly but I want to get to the good part
taglist! ❤️
@lyannesworld @tremendouswolfsaladranch @unlesshouse @mimsie95 @ostricx @amelia262006 @marihoneywk @ahristata @happinessinthebeing @dd122004dd
@lyannesworld @aestmilky @lightdragonrayne @delaynew @mxtokko @stargaryenx @lightdragonrayne @delaynew @mxtokko @good-night-starlight @yentroucnagol @beebeechaos 
349 notes · View notes
morallyinept · 3 months
Text
Rockford & Roses - A Detective Tim Rockford One Shot 🌹
Tumblr media
Summary: Tim's coming home to you on Valentine's night with a heavy heart and secrets that threaten to tear you apart. Can your love for him survive the ghosts of his past that still haunt him? More importantly, are you willing to make room for them in your already strained marriage?
Pairing: Det. Tim Rockford x Wife!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It’s you, bub.)
Word Count: 5k-ish
Scoville Smut Rating: None, it's fluff. Mostly angst. Definite angst. You're safe. Kinda.
Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.
Warnings/Triggers: Alludes to smut, nothing detailed/mentions details of a case involving the murder of a child, nothing too graphic/alcoholism/A N G S T in abundance/some dark themes in the sense that Tim is self-destructing. Tim is very a broken man, poor lamb. Give him a hug, will you?
I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't to your taste, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.
Author’s Note: This story evolved massively from the direction it was going in originally, and I'm actually kinda pleased about that... It's something different from your typical, "schmoozy" Valentine's Day story, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.🌹
MAIN MASTERLIST | TIM ROCKFORD MASTERLIST | FLORA & FAUNA MASTERLIST
Enjoy! 🖤
Tumblr media
Detective Tim Rockford had been sober for almost a year when it all fell apart completely on that terrible night. 
But it wasn’t until the winter was in its latter stages, that he would tip fully over the edge into regular, almost daily, bouts of oblivion to keep himself from falling off the ledge completely.
To keep the nightmares and sense of guilt that he drowned in on a near constant basis at bay. 
He unscrews the cap from the bottle of dark amber liquid he’s craftily been hiding under the seat in his car, and swallows it all back letting it slip down his throat.
Without him giving it permission to, his mind replays over the events from that fateful night, four years ago, and is brought back to the little girl lying at the bottom of the ravine just off of the ridge. 
A call had come in about a missing child on the morning in question, and he and his partner Peter ‘Petey’ Harman went over to the home of the parents to talk to them about it. You know, do the initial questioning; worker bee stuff. Try to suss out if she was a regular runaway or if in fact one of them had stuffed her under the foundations and was crying wolf.
The family home was nice; an average run-of-the-mill house, in an average run-of-the-mill neighbourhood. Tim was presented with a photo of her from her mother and he remembered thinking that he’d missed his chance to be a father, to watch your belly swell and witness the miracle of life forged from your love, and it left a bitter taste. 
She was cute as a button; all brown hair and freckles, and she had this blue, silk princess-dress, with lace collars and cuffs, wearing a gonky smile that was missing a tooth or three. 
‘Find my baby, please Tim.’ Her mother had begged him whilst Harman took down the notes - he was good with that stuff - and Tim promised her that he would - knowing that a detective should never promise that - if it was the last thing he ever did. Not knowing that he would actually make good on that word further down the line. 
Looking again at the picture, he learned it was her favourite dress, her mother had said it through the red eyes that she wore that pretty dress everywhere, and that she turned into the spawn of Satan himself when she tried to get her out of it so it could be cleaned.
It was also the same dress Tim had found her wearing when he discovered her remains.
The search had been dragged out as much as it could be, but there was no trace of her. Leads had been exhausted; those pulled in for questioning were found innocent and their alibis solid.
It was as if Rainie Thompson had vanished off the surface of the planet in a click of a finger.
The search efforts began to die off around the four week point, mostly due to the heavy snow settling in and it pained him to know that everyone was giving up on finding this little girl - a little girl that he was convinced was still alive - she just had to be; he could feel it in his gut.
Some perverted bastard had her and he was determined to make them feed from a tube for their rest of their life when he found them.
Tim was determined to find her, despite his colleagues and even Harman at times, convincing him it was a lost cause. He’d been spending most of his time - including down time - combing the woods, the parks - everywhere and anywhere he could think to try and find her.
Where are you, baby? She consumed him wholly.
She was what kept your husband away from you.
Left you sat at the dining table alone, with an uneaten plate opposite you and a creeping draft settling into your bones. The creaky sounds of the house seemed louder when you were alone, and soon they were your only companion; their creaks soon turning into words of comfort at an absent husband.
Tim left the space in the bed vacant, crease-free and cold beside you. 
Tim’s whole world had come tumbling down when he’d picked Rainie up and cradled her small, cold body to his chest and wailed like he had lost his own beau.
No, baby... no.
He cursed up to the sky, as though having it out with God himself - God, who had allowed this innocent, beautiful child to die.
Tim wasn’t exactly devout or the God-fearing type. He’d been to church only a handful of times in his life; to marry you being the most notable, but after that day he’d especially not been back to a church since.
This is how faith dies in a person; violated and fractured. Altered and hollowed out from the inside and everything pure and good is obliterated by the poisoning fingers of the darkness in the world, wrapping their hands tightly around its neck and simply snapping it in two.
Fuck you, God! Damn you, you son of a bitch! 
She had been thrown down in there like a puppet whose strings had become entangled with themselves; she was six-years-old.
Rainie Thompson was six-years-old and she had a little, blue dress and played Hopscotch and liked drawing pictures of red roses, and eating chocolate ice-cream until her tummy hurt.
Rainie Thompson was the one who killed him. 
Tim cried through the drinking, mourning her like his own and mourning the part of him that was dying with her; a hollow husk of a man soon to be filled by the familiar numbing void that alcohol had to offer.
It would make him forget the horror; forget the depravity, although the nightmares would never relent, he would be certain of that - they never do. 
To date, he hasn’t found the killer and it’s been four years. A one-off, grisly murder that hinted at possible cannibalism, but later was discovered she’d been partly eaten by a wild animal scavenging; it left very little in the way of clues or evidence, because there was very little of her left.
Most of his team concluded it absolutely was an animal of some kind, a cougar happened upon her perhaps, or a bear after she'd wandered off? But Tim did not quite believe that - they didn’t see her. 
It’s changed him, changed something within Tim to see the world for what it is. The band-aid has been ripped off and once you see that shit, you can never unsee it again.
And Tim's seen some pretty fucked up shit in his career.
He closed up, closed off and began unknowingly cementing the spiralling destruction that was to be his life. He’s fifty-eight and has nothing anymore.
Well, that’s not entirely true, he has you.
Despite the distance that has grown between you, evolving from carnal desire to ships passing silently in the night, you remain steadfast in your love for Tim, silently supporting him as he battles the demons that threaten to consume him wholly.
Yet he can’t help but feel that he's condemned you already in some ways. Watching as those demons hold you down and tear pieces from you until, one day, they'll be nothing left. 
The wife of a gritty detective doesn't bode well in a happily ever after.
His decades long career is the reluctant third wheel in your marriage, and at first you admired his dedication; his passion to solving mysteries. Getting excited yourself when he'd use the dining room walls to gather his thought maps, pinning up mug shots, red thread lines linking people and place and circumstance. Weapons of choice like an elaborate game of Clue.
And he'd talk to you about them in those early days, the tamer cases he had. Mugs of coffee and thoughtful kisses exchanged as you offered your opinion and challenged his thinking.
Now it's getting harder not to resent that damn gold badge.
He swigs again at the bottle. It feels good; the warm, numbing sensation flooding through his veins down both his arms and legs. The giddy onslaught of amnesia begins to twinkle around the edges of alert thinking as he slowly succumbs to the light buzz.
He closes his eyes and lets himself teeter on the edge of it, welcoming the calmness like an old friend. 
His first heavy session had led to his first blackout and it had scared him; scared him that he could lose a chunk of time that was unaccounted for out of his life - waking up at home fully clothed in the armchair, sometimes the kitchen floor, knowing he'd driven severely under the influence, and equally amazed and relieved that he hadn’t killed anybody in the process. They would take his badge for that recklessness if they knew. 
No-one knew. Or if they did, they never mentioned it.
But it wasn’t enough to stop him. It got him through the paralysing fear of handling those dark days, which were particularly brutal, and the other fucked up cases he’d had to solve since.
They tell you; tell you that it will be difficult and bad, but you’re never prepared for it.
His father never prepared him for that shit and was right when he said he hadn’t got the cajones to be a police officer all those years ago.
His father headed up the ranks of Chief in a suburban precinct elsewhere and eventually made Commander, like Tim knew he would, probably just to spite him. He also told Tim in no uncertain terms that he wasn’t "Commander material." Hell, he wasn’t even Detective’s material, and for a while, Tim believed sincerely that he was right.
Although, he’s six feet under now, so what the Hell does he know? Shot in the back during a supermarket raid gone awry when he’d popped out to buy a newspaper and a some smokes. Commander John Rockford shot by a drugged up lil’ pipsqueak looking to get cash for his next score - what a legacy! 
His death left a nice, fat pension for his mother who squandered most of it on a gambling addiction that she’d always had looming in the background of his childhood; the root of many a ferocious argument witnessed between his parents when they thought he was tucked up in bed, and he could literally hear the punch from his father’s fist make contact with his mother’s jaw.
But that didn’t stop the fact that his words clung to Tim like a bad shadow most days, even now, long after his theatrical send off like he was a Goddamned hero or something. He wasn’t; he was a mean little asshole with a bad temper and Tim had been glad to see the back of him, too sloshed to remember much of the funeral at all and cutting his no good mother out of his life soon after. 
Tim swigs from the bottle once more, the sting dying out slowly and melting into an alkaline that soon tastes of nothing. It’s all nothing; emptiness and voids that are getting harder to fill. Disassociating himself from his shitty past life; from his first wife and her erratic behaviour, which took him years to figure out, was probably his erratic behaviour that had pushed her away and out of their home for good, not that he’d truly cared to notice.
Work all but consumed him. And he was happy to let it.
Of course, he’d gone to AA; out of town where nobody would know who he was - an upstanding pillar of the community, yeah right - talking about your problems, laying them all out there in front of a bunch of strangers who were just as fucked up as you were, was difficult because, up until that point Tim had never recognised or considered that he had a problem; just a mechanism he relied upon that helped him cope. 
Having to take a moral inventory of himself and dig into the suppressed emotions he was hanging onto, and using them as an excuse to inebriate himself through the day, was hard.
The hardest thing he'd ever done, doubting he was strong enough to climb those twelve steps - and he wasn’t even really sure that he wanted to.
But he did; was sober for a while, until Rainie Thompson obliterated him.
He takes another quick swig after spotting Harman coming out the Gas n’ Guzzle and shoves it back under the seat covertly.
Harman finds Tim sitting as he left him, squeezing the steering wheel inside of his deft hands, over and over, trying to make sense of everything and when exactly the world had become such a terrible and unforgiving place - but is coming up short. 
Gas stations are the most uninspiring places to get a decent cuisine that won’t make you shit ten tons the next day, but it's late; Detective Petey Harman is tired and hungry for just about anything right now, no matter how crappy it would taste or make him feel in twelve hours’ time as it burns through its exit out of his anal passage.
Once back inside the car, Tim scrutinises the large brown paper bag filled to the brim that Petey rifles around in, before pulling out a dire looking sandwich and handing it to his senior. 
“You planning a sleepover with your girly friends or summin’?” Tim questions him.
There are several boxes of microwave pizzas, a bag of extra-large puffy marshmallows, various microwaveable meats in packet sauces that look questionable in their paleness, a jar of chocolate dipping spread and a large bottle of orange and pineapple Cactus Cooler. 
“Nah... No girly friends for me.” Petey says, sombrely. “Weekly shop.”
“Well, watch your damned cholesterol.” Tim tears into the plastic packaging to be met with disappointment the moment he puts the sandwich in his mouth. 
Petey can smell the waft of alcohol lingering in the car but he doesn’t mention it. Just like all the other times he's smelt it coming out of Tim’s mouth when he speaks, making his eyes water.
Petey was not long into being a newbie; a junior ranking officer in the department and up until a year ago or so now, had been making pretty good at busting low-level criminals successfully, to the point that he hadn’t really taken the gig that seriously, thinking at times he was invincible.
So much so that he had his thumbs in his belt loops and his shooter on show proudly like they do in Miami Vice as he and his reluctant mentor Tim, solved bleak mysteries together.
They’d stopped in for a burger break at Lafferty’s Grill on the day of Rainie being reported missing; talking about the pretty waitress giving Petey a lingering smile, and Tim trying to persuade him that he actually had a pair of balls and should use them to go and talk to her.
Instead, Tim was mirthed with disappointment as Petey's cheeks flushed a crimson red as he stared into his laminated menu, tacky with barbecue sauce residue, and tucking said balls firmly inside himself.
Petey had to grow up fast; he knew that the moment he’d heard Tim yelling at him crazily when he’d found the child’s remains whilst they scouted around for her aimlessly one night after Tim was trying for weeks to hold it together.
It was an image that still gave Petey nightmares, and the sounds of Tim sobbing still made his blood run cold when he thought about it, but it was far less frequent now.
He’d been promoted since to Detective, taking the job more seriously and knuckling down; his life coming up roses whilst Tim’s fell out the bottom of his ass. 
Speaking of roses, Tim looks up mid-chew on something that the label assures him is tuna fish, and spots something red and velvety clustered in the window of the gas station.
He spies the date on the radio and sighs out heavily, tossing the sandwich back in the plastic packaging. 
“Shit.” He mutters. 
“You good? I got a BLT if you want that instead?” Petey asks. 
"No. Fuck no. Wait, you gave me the shitty tuna when you had bacon?" Tim frowns.
"Was gonna save it."
With that, Tim exits the car, the driver side door squeaking on his beaten Pontiac and his trench coat billowing in the wind as he makes his way inside the gas station.
The fluorescent lights flicker overhead, casting a harsh glare over the rows of snacks and drinks lining the shelves. His weary eyes fall upon the sad display of the florals. A few wilted roses, their once vibrant petals drooping with neglect, sitting haphazardly in a cheap plastic bucket.
Tim grimaces, knowing they’re far from the bouquet you deserve. 
His mind flashes back to the drawings of roses on Rainie Thompson's bedroom wall and how, for a time, they engulfed him, tracing his fingers over the waxy ridges of their messy circles.
Tim was sitting on her bed, clutching a stuffed bear with a plaid neckerchief that smelled of talc and her mother informed him the bear's name: Tim. Or Timmy. Timmy the Teddy.
He remembers squeezing that damn bear tightly as he took in the surroundings of the little girl's room, trying to work out where she was - where are you, baby? - When he spotted the drawings.
He kept one, pulling it off the wall and folding it neatly into squares until it fit in his wallet. A reminder that she would be with him, crying in his ear for him to bring her back home to her mommy and daddy.
She never stopped crying and wailing in his ear; the pitch growing until he drowned it out with the booze.
He remembers the pictures, full of clumsy scribbles, bulbs of red crayon petals and skinny green stalks. Kind of how the roses look now in the bucket staring out at him; a sad little gift from beyond the grave in their macabre despair. 
He hears it again now, that crying, right beside him. He squeezes his eyes shut, a few moments of forcing it into white noise.
With a resigned sigh, he plucks a handful of the least wilted roses from the bucket and makes his way to the counter. The clerk eyes him curiously as Tim approaches, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of their lips.
Tim ignores the silent judgement, focusing instead on paying for the flowers and grabbing a bottle of wine from the shelf by the counter. The wine selection is vastly limited, but he purchases a bottle of red without giving it much thought and hoping it won't taste like sharp vinegar.
He pays for his thoughtlessness, and hurries back to his car, the weight of his guilt and exhaustion pressing down on him like crushing lead.
“Get out,” he gruffs to Petey as he starts the engine. 
Petey gulps down his sandwich with a splutter. “What?”
“You’re walkin’ home tonight.” Tim announces with eyebrows knitted, and Petey rolls his eyes, fumbling with his shopping and splitting the bag in the process. 
"Aww man. You're kidding me?"
"I gotta get home. You didn't tell me it was fuckin' Valentine's." Tim scowls.
"Big deal. It's just another day." And Tim can hear the bitterness of being single and alone awash in Petey's mouth with stale bread, lettuce and bacon.
"Out." Tim presses.
“Roses won’t cut it this time, Tim.” Petey whines, as Tim reverses before he can even shut the door. 
He’s right. Despite his bumbling ineptitude, Petey’s right - it won’t cut it.
Tim can’t even believe the sight of the wilted roses sitting on the passenger seat, mocking him and reminding him of all of his failings to you. It wasn't always like this, he's sure of it. Somewhere in the recesses of his tempestuous mind, he knows you were happy; he made you happy at some point, right?
He remembers how happy you were when you exchanged vows and gold bands, gorgeous in your little lace smock dress, beaming up at him. Fuck, it seems like a lifetime ago.
Burgers and beers on the bonnet of his car, he had a chevy back then, and watching breathtaking sunsets, and going to the movies when he was off duty.
He would bring you roses then. Fluffy, sumptuous blooms that almost guaranteed him a bigger helping of your cherry pie with the perfect, sweet crust, and extra kisses that led to him detaining you in the sheets, reminding you that you had the right to remain loud, to scream his name when he made you come.
He brought you real roses back then. Not these... weeds.
It’s late, almost midnight which ironically, is the earliest Tim has been home in a long time.
With a deep breath, he gathers the roses in his arms and makes his way to the front door. As he pushes it open and steps into the warmth of your shared home, the scent of your perfume catches his nose making it twitch.
He remembers that scent, like a sucker punch to the jaw. As he inhales deeply, the memories come flooding back, transporting him to a time when life was simpler, when the weight of the world hadn't yet settled upon his broad shoulders.
He can almost feel the warmth of your hand in his, your laughter echoing in his ears like sheet music. The feel of his cock inside your wet tightness as he fucked you into the mattress and you clawed at the expanse of his back leaving red welts on his skin from your nails for days after.
You couldn't get enough of each other once, and now you're barely strangers.
He steps into the deep bellows of the house searching for you, and finds you on the couch, wiping frantically at swollen eyes that have obviously been crying.
And the guilt drowns him instantly, crushing him like a tsunami as he sees you there, small and withered, worse than the roses he dared to bring home to you.
Looking down at them and frowning, Tim is disgusted with himself. He tosses them onto the table wanting to be free of the wretched things.
He longs to spend time with you, his darling wife, but the relentless pursuit of justice consumes every waking moment, pollutes every free thinking thought.
You can only watch from afar as Tim pours himself into the work, and pours himself another glass to compensate for the scars it leaves.
You know he’s haunted by the very vestiges of unsolved cases stacking up on his desk that he never talks to you about anymore. Closes the files of grisly crime scene photos before you have a chance to see them.
He protects you from his work now, but consequently, and unwittingly, protects you from him, too. 
Each night, you would leave a warm meal on the table and wait anxiously for his return, hoping that he’ll come home early to eat with you, your heart heavy with worry and your hair turning whiter in the process.
More often than not, you dine with bitterness and disappointment.
Often, you’d wake in the early hours of the morning to find Tim slumped in his armchair, surrounded by case files; his brow furrowed in comatose concentration, glasses almost fully sliding off the bridge of his nose.
An empty bottle always rusticates beside him on the floor.
You can’t remember the last time Tim slept in your bed with you. The last time he held you in those strong, broad arms of his that you know he has hidden under that trench coat. 
You can't remember the last time Tim made love to you and whispered how beautiful you are in your ear with whimpering grunts as he filled you up. 
Tim is crestfallen as he steps forward, the faint glow of something flickering on the dining table pulls his sight.
A candle, close to being exhumed by the deathly kiss of its barely remaining wick, and unopened boxes of now cold Chinese take-out litter the table. 
“I ordered your favourite. Number seventy-three with a side of nineteen.” You sniff. "I got extra twenty-two because they always give us an odd number."
“Darling, I...” Tim stops, for he knows nothing he can say can absolve this. On the most romantic night of the year, Tim has failed you, yet again. “I’m so sorry-”
“Don’t, Tim” you raise your hand shaking your head despondently. “Just don’t.” 
"I didn't mean to be late. Not tonight.”
A small ghost of a smile evaporates on your lips. “You never mean to be late. Yet you always are.”
“The case-”
“It's not about the case, Tim," you say, your voice foggy with emotion. "It's about us. About the fact that you're always putting everything else before me."
He notes the roses again, bearing witness to his shame; their haggard state mocking him once more and he curses inwardly. 
“I’m so, so sorry,” he approaches as you stand, arms wrapping around yourself and glass cutting tracks down your cheeks. 
“I packed a bag…” You say as his eyes follow yours to a small suitcase in the hall that he didn’t even notice when he came in. passed right by it, oblivious. And he suddenly wonders what else he's been missing all these years, as it registers in his gut.
“No.” Tim states with a croak in his throat. He shakes his head vehemently. "No, darling."
Tim steps forward, the suitcase filling him with terrific dread. "You're leaving me?"
You're surprised that he's surprised.
But you shake your head, tears falling freely now. "I can't do this anymore, Tim," you say, your voice barely a whisper. "I can't keep waiting for you to come home to me. To open up to me and tell me what’s eating at you. I know it's something bad, something terrible. And I want to help, I do, I'm your wife. I want to make it better. But you make it so difficult. You push me away."
“To protect you.” He says with a low voice.
“Who's protecting you, Tim?"
"I don't-"
"I don't know who you are anymore. The man I fell in love with, he's... a ghost.”
“I…” words fail him as you look at him with a deep sadness that will stay etched on the thin fibre of his soul forever. A stain that won't wash out, no matter how much he scrubs.
You were the one. You're his one. And he's fucking losing you.
“Tell me, or I’m leaving... for good.” You warn. "If you ever cared about me at all, you'll tell me what's killing you. Please..."
You shake your head in despair, wiping your eyes harder now, when he doesn’t say anything. Just swallows the lumpy constriction in his throat and stares at you with hollow eyes.
"Goodbye, Tim." You sniffle.
“Rainie Thompson, she loved roses...” Tim mutters thickly as you approach the hall.
You stop, turning to face him.
"Who's Rainie Thompson?" You ask fearing the immediate worst.
You expect him to reveal to you that he's been unfaithful. That's he's not just been putting the hours in solely at work. That he brings roses - roses that are alive - to another woman. He eats her cherry pie now, fucks her into the mattress.
That he drinks because of the guilt of hurting you. But what he says instead alters a part of you that you don't think you'll ever get back.
“They look just how she drew them.” Tim says, his voice breaking, until his face caves in fully, features drowning in the onslaught of emotions, and for the first time you witness this unwavering man crumble completely. 
And it terrifies you. For if he, the strongest man you've ever known, can break like this, what hope is there for you?
You rush to him as he collapses to his knees with a heavy thud, and wraps his arms around your waist, sobbing into the softness of your tummy.
You shush him and stroke your fingers through the greying curls, matted with sweat at the back of his neck. He holds onto you tighter than he’s ever done and you're afraid to let go of him. 
Afraid that he won't ever stop bawling, as he mumbles incoherently and snottily into your abdomen.
Hours pass by, Valentine's Day gone in a blink of an eye, and you listen carefully and woefully as Tim recounts the haunting tale of Rainie Thompson, and how she's slowly killed the man you love.
You sit at the dining table with his thick, gun-calloused hands inside of yours, stroking over the ridges of his knuckles and listening to him swear to you that’ll get help with the drinking.
That he’ll take some leave and the two of you can go to the beach, or the lake, or somewhere where it can just be the two of you for a while.
Away from his cases, away from the horror of it all. Hell, he even mentions early retirement in his pertinent desperation, until you pat his hand gently and ground him with a stroking cup to his grizzled cheek.
You smile lightly as you gather the roses, and try to push aside your cynicism and wonder if you’ll regret not actually leaving tonight. Wonder if all what Tim has fed you is more empty promises when he'll eventually slip back into that expected monotony.
But you can see some swill of sincerity and regret inside the brown muddy pools of Tim’s tired eyes that you've never seen before.
He silently watches you pull the dead outer petals from the roses before placing them in a vase with fresh water. 
“They’re already dead.” He mutters apologetically to you, shaking his head at the sight of them. 
“Some things can come back to life, Tim, with some love.” You smile softly and Tim wants to just die in your arms right now. 
“I don’t deserve you, darling.” Tim says, reaching for you.
He hasn’t yet taken off his trench, and you help it from his shoulders, the smell of worn leather from his holsters greeting you this close.
You've forgotten what he smells like as you inhale deeply. The scent of the leather leads a rugged and slightly musky undertone to his familiar aroma that’s swilled with coffee, cedarwood and sweat underscoring the gritty, primal edge to him. 
You lick your lips as you graze your nose against the warmth of his neck, allowing him to finally crush you close to his broad chest, before the handle of his gun digs you uncomfortably in the breast.
He braces to kiss you, sweeping his lips delicately against yours, but you flinch. A reaction that slashes at Tim’s gut.
“Just hold me tonight, Tim.” You plead to him.
He nods, a solemn heaviness in his eyes as well as on his shoulders. 
“I’ve missed you so much.” He admits.
Hearing him say it offers some vindication, but you know that these wounds need layers of bandages to be changed daily, and not some flimsy band-aids.
"I've missed you too."
“I’m so sorry for pushing you out. I don’t wanna lose you. I can’t. I’ll do whatever it takes. I promise.” He takes your hand and presses it to his mouth, the soft scruff of his facial hair feeling like gossamer, and you'd almost forgotten the feel of that too. “I love you.”
And when he says it, your emotions hiccup out of you and the tears fall again. 
“I love you, Tim,” you whimper. 
He takes you in his arms, those big, strong arms, and leads you upstairs to bed where he makes good on his word and doesn't let go of you all night.
You fall asleep listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat as he rubs your back gently, soothing you into sleep whilst he stays awake well into the night, staring up at the ceiling and trying not to listen to the dark thoughts urging him to finish that whole bottle of cheap wine downstairs. 
He came so close to losing you today, on Valentine’s Day of all days, and he knows he has to do better. For all his faults, you love him and he spends the night pondering on that. Pondering when it was that he last slept in the bed with you, until his eyes fall heavy and he succumbs to a short, stunted sleep.
In the morning, he rises, stiff and aching from laying in the same position all night with you curled tightly in his arms. Amidst his back cracking and feeling stuffy in his slept-in crumpled button up and vest, Tim silently leaves the bedroom, careful not to wake you.
After pissing for what feels like an age, Tim catches sight of his face in the vanity mirror. White-gray stubble spreads across his chin and top lip, and the weary look of a man of the law that’s seen too much and knows too much weighing heavy around his sullen eyes, greets him.
He rummages in the vanity for some Tylenol and pops two in his mouth, swallowing them down without water. He re-shapes his oil slicked hair and tries to avoid the face looking back at him.
It knows all his terrible secrets, and now, so do you. 
In the beginning the alcohol wouldn’t let him remember all the details, but its dropped its guard. The dreams were real; too real and he would find himself reliving the events each time he tried to get some damn shut eye.
He wasn’t supposed to keep seeing these things or to remember - it wasn’t part of the deal. Inebriation was supposed to wipe that shit out, but it'd failed to serve its purpose, instead serving as a beguiling wedge that expanded between you and him. 
After descending the creaky stairs towards the kitchen, Tim passes the dining table en route to make some coffee; his tongue washing around dry, tight gums.
He spies his mobile and checks it out of habit; a message or two from Harman, one about a lead on one of their minor cases, and the other enquiring about his 'night of passion with the Mrs' and if it went well, and Tim simply scoffs. He makes a mental note to kick Harman when he sees him next. Preferably in the balls.
But out of the corner of his eye, Tim notices the vase of dead roses and stops to take in how they're now fully alive.
Overnight, their wilted petals have straightened and regained their vibrant colour, as if infused magically with a newfound vitality. The once drooping stems now stand tall and proud, their green leaves unfurling to reveal a lushness that seems to defy their previous state of neglect. Shades of crimson glow in the stale morning light, their hues deepening and intensifying the longer Tim takes them in.
Tim reaches for one, revelling in the soft velvet as he rubs it delicately between his finger and thumb. His eyes widen in disbelief at the transformation before him. It’s as if the flowers themselves are reaching out to him, a silent reminder of the resilience of your love and the power of forgiveness. 
Some things can come back to life, Tim, with some love.
And Tim swears in that moment he’s never loved you more.
He swallows back a choke as he glances the wedidng photo of you both on the wall. Fuck, you looked so happy and beautiful that day.
Feeling a new sense of budding rejuvenation settling into his tired bones, a tiny bud, but one still seeding nonetheless, he turns towards the kitchen and then freezes, feeling it as his blood runs cold over his skin.
Prickles shoot down the back of his neck as he hears the sound, as clear as day. But it's different this time.
The haunting, yet wonderfully brilliant sound, of a little girl playfully giggling beside him.
Rainie Thompson isn't crying in his ear anymore, and Tim Rockford can't help but smile, closing his eyes as he listens to that sweet melody.
I found you, baby.
Tumblr media
Thank you so much for reading. I'd love to know your thoughts and would appreciate a re-blog so others can enjoy this story too. Thank you! 🖤
MAIN MASTERLIST | TIM ROCKFORD MASTERLIST | FLORA & FAUNA MASTERLIST
219 notes · View notes
1800jjbarnes · 3 months
Text
𝐉𝐉'𝐬 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐏𝐭.𝟏
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Updated : 15th Jan 2024 | Fic Counter : 39
Mature [M] Fluff [F] Romance/Slice of Life [R] Comedy [C] Gore/Thriller [G] Horror [H] Supernatural/Fantasy [S] Others [O]
Masterlist Navigator
Tumblr media
You're My Prey | Wolf Au [R/G/S]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Bunnies shouldn't be wondering on their own. A big bad wolf is stalking the forest, and he will do anything to protect what is his.
Fallen Angel | Demon Au [M/F/S/R]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : James wants to taint you. Bend you. Change you. Until you're nothing but putty in his hands.
Don't | Dom!Au [M]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Rule number one, do not tease your super soldier boyfriend. Rule number two, break rule number one.
Erratic Dreams | Insomnia Trope [M/F]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : James can't handle another sleepless night, especially when he has you sleeping so beautifully next to him.
Late Night | Avenger!Bucky [M]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : When James comes home all wet, you can't help but become wet yourself.
I Need You | Forced Proximity Au [F/A]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Turns out being snowed in with your crush was a blessing in disguise.
Long Night | Dilf!Neighbour!Bucky [M]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : If their was one thing James loved more. It was watching you squirm in pleasure under his touch.
Awake | Wolf Au [M/F]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Bucky's brain can't seem to go to sleep, and what's worse, are cute little noises you keep whimpering in your sleep, keeping him wide awake.
Stay Home | Wolf Au [M/A]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Tonight was supposed to be filled with laughter and memories, but two nobodies had to turn the night upside-down.
Nothing But Disrespect | Wolf Au [M/A]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : You and Bucky have a huge fight just before your heat starts. Now you have to choose; lose the argument and apologise or be a brat and see what happens.
You Only Live Once | Bestfriends Au [M/F]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : He wants to tip you over the edge to finally see if you liked him back. But neither of you could have guessed this would be the outcome.
Act Like It | Dom Bf Au [M]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Maybe you shouldn't have flited with his friends. But then again, you couldn't ask for a better outcome.
Safe | Wolf Au [G/A/F]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : A rat in the pack left the world coming to a stretching halt. And now you have to live another's mark on your skin…
3am Thoughts | Roommate Au [F]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Late night baking leads to popping open some wine and spilling secrets you thought you would take to the grave.
I'll Fuck Away The Pain | Bestfriend Au [M/A/F]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Bucky is sick and tired of you coming to him in tears every time your boyfriend hurts you. His anger has gotten to him so worked up that he wants, No, he needs to prove that all you need is him and him alone.
Yes Sir | Mafia Au [M/A]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Don't piss Bucky off… You might like it too much.
Capability High | Mafia Au [M/A]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : What was one way to prove to your father you weren't a little innocent girl anymore? How about sleep with the enemy?
солдат | Winter Solider Au [M/A]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : He was your families enemy and an enmey of the state, but yet you can't help but melt when his ice-cold metal hand touches you in just the right places.
Lonely King | Royal Au [M/F/A]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : You were the youngest of three princesses, and your parents were being paid off from another kingdom in order to marry the cruel, cold king. But the upside, he doesn't seem so cruel…ish
Stalemate | Pirate Au [M/A]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : You spent months proving who was better on the vast seas. But what neither of you suspected was falling in love at the same time.
One More Time | Boyfriend Au [M]
【Synopsis】 : You let Bucky edge you until you can't take it anymore.
Doomed | Forbidden Love Au [A/F]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Your lives were completely different. Your families hated one another, but you two couldn’t stay away from each other, no matter how hard you tried.
I Think Ive Fallen For You | Mafia Au [M/A/G]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Having a father that's a leader in the mafia leads to an arranged marriage that just might have saved you.
Enchanted Pt.1 | Fantasy Au [M/F/G/A]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : One day, when a far away kingdom gets attacked, a lone brave knight fights to save his homeland. But what happens when death comes knocking and only a small fae could save him.
A Moment To Last Forever | Soft Au [M/F/R]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : When Bucky comes from a long and stressful day, he only wants one thing. You bent over
Dimly Lit Bathroom | Drunk Au [M]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Bucky couldn't keep his hands off you on a regular basis. But when he sees you in such a sexy outfit, he has no choice but to drag you to the nearest bathroom.
Whoops | Mafia Au [G/M/A]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : You wanted to show your hot-headed lover that you could protect yourself. And what better way than to go looking for his number on rival….
Pure Relaxation | Bf Au [M/F/R]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Bucky kept getting lost over and over again. Becoming increasingly more frustrated with the technology in front of him as time passes, it's a good thing you are here to help him cool off.
Pretty Boy | Sub Bucky Au [M/F]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : it's Bucky's turn to know what it feels like to have rope pull and tug on his beautiful skin, and he can't help but whimper at the sheer idea of it.
A ride to last a lifetime | Biker au [M]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Bucky had begged for weeks for you to go for a ride with him. Caving in, you finally realise how pleasurable it is to ride his bike.
Make You Mine | CEO Au [M/F/A]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Bucky can't help but send death glares to any man who tried to have your attention for too long. Too bad you don't belong to him… yet.
God Isn't Here | Bad Boy Au [M/R/A]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Bad Boy Bucky wanted to change for you. Be the better man you deserved, but what if you ended up changing more than him?
Love Lust Has No Bounds | Siren Au [M]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : You were in love with the enemy, and oh, how it was it exciting.
Out Of This World | Avengers Au [M/A/F]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : You were gifted an Asgardian plant from Thor since he knew you loved greenery. Little did anyone know the pollen had some weird side effects when inhaled.
Goddess Among Commoners | Mafia Au [S/F/A]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Overhearing for so-called friends make fun of your "failures" in life made your loving mobboss boyfriend very unhappy. No one makes his Doll cry.
Planet 3564AB | Alien Au [M]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : You're a mercenary, searching for your next job in the galaxy. Little did you know, being stuck in a wasteland planet was about to gift you more than just galactic credits.
My everything | Monster au [M/F/A]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : Rain was pouring, and your heart was aching. You didn't care what the villagers nor that priest thought about him. You love him, and you were going to prove it.
Let me help | Wolf au [M/F]
↳ 【Synopsis】 : You didn't know what it meant to be on heat, let alone know you could even have one since you weren't a wolf. But here you were, and Bucky was going to help you through it.
Creamy | Mob/Daddy Au [M]
↳ 【Synopsis】: After disappointing your totally not possessive boyfriend. You try your hardest to get forgiveness out of him
Tumblr media
© 1800JJBarnes. Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my work in any way, shape, or form.
238 notes · View notes
dreamescapeswriting · 8 months
Text
Stray Kids Reaction || You Get Kidnapped [Mafia Edition]
Tumblr media
⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - September 2023
⤜MASTERLIST
Fem!Reader
TRIGGER WARNING: Violence against reader, mentions blood and kidnapping, mentions of controlling behaviour and toxic tendencies
CHAN:
The rival gang's first mistake was thinking that you weren't going to leave a trail for Chan to find you, leaving your hair here and there, even making your fingers bleed so you could leave your DNA behind. The rival gang's second mistake was underestimating Chan,
"He won't hurt us, he's gone soft ever since he got with her." One of them chuckled loudly as they both stared at you, their backs to the door which was their third mistake and you looked at them.
"Something to say, princess?" One of them asked as you tilted your head at him and smirked a little against the gag that was in your mouth.
"You looking awfully happy for someone-" The first kidnapper couldn't finish his sentence before his cold body hit the ground making the other one jump and reach for his gun.
"I wouldn't," Chan warned him, snapping his fingers as four different men rushed over to your side undid the bindings around your wrists and removed the gag. You stretched a little in the seat before sighing in relief,
"Thanks for that," You smiled standing up and rushing over to your husband, You knew that Chan would stop at nothing to get you back safe so you had no worries when the men had locked you up in some old warehouse.
"I found your clues baby, smart girl," He winks, kissing your cheek before he turns his attention back to the man in front of you who was now shaking like a leaf.
"I was just doing what I was told! He said you wouldn't hurt us," He was cowering as Chan looked at his men and nodded his head in silence. In seconds your kidnapper was bound and gagged the same way you had been and Chan smirked to himself.
"Let's go home,"
"We're just going to leave him here?" You quizzed, glancing at the man who was wriggling around on the seat,
"Let him die slowly," Chan nodded, wrapping his arm around your waist and walking you out of the building. In his eyes, anyone who even thought of hurting you deserved a slow and painful death.
MINHO:
From the moment Minho had seen the note on your pillowcase he'd stopped at nothing to find you, he'd stayed up for what must have been two nights in a row before his body finally forced him to get some rest.
"He shows at last!" Asher cried out when Minho walked into his office to see you sitting in the giant office chair waiting for him. Your face was busted up pretty badly and Minho's blood began to boil, he should have found you sooner he should have done more to get here quicker.
"It took you long enough, poor Yn here was beginning to think you forgot about her. Isn't that right, doll?" As Asher moved his hand toward you, you flinched causing Minho to pull out his gun and cock it back.
"Oft, he's playing the role of the big bad wolf." Asher chuckled snarkily before grabbing you by the back of your neck and standing you up, your legs shaking as you stared at Minho with pleading eyes.
"Do you want to say goodbye to your little girlfriend? Or shall I just kill her in front of you without a goodbye?" Asher tilted his head to the side and you refused to look at your husband anymore, just wanting for this to be over with.
"Six days she's been waiting to be rescued, she's probably begging to be put out of her misery," The gun Asher was holding cocked and placed at the back of your head but he forced your head up to look at Minho, tears rolled down your cheeks silently.
"Bubba..." He whispered at you and your heart jumped, you knew what the code word meant but you tried not to make it known as you looked away from him. The codeword meant that there was a chance of you getting out of this if you were fast enough, you'd trained for months with Minho and his men.
"She can't even look at you, what a shame." Asher laughed throwing you roughly against the desk, This was your chance you threw your arms back knocking the gun to the other side of the office before Minho shot a warning shot into Asher's shoulder. You scrambled away from him and hid behind your husband who wrapped one arm around your waist and kissed the top of your head.
"Do you want him tortured or killed right away?" He directed the question down at you but never looked away from Asher who was grunting while holding his shoulder.
"Kill him, he isn't worth our time or energy." You grumbled before the shot rang out. You clutched onto Minho the second you could and begged him never to let go of you again.
CHANGBIN:
"You're going to regret all of this," You spat out to the two men in your living room, your body felt as though it was aching everywhere and you weren't sure the pain was ever going to stop.
"And who's going to make us regret this? You?" They began laughing at one another before you smirked, spitting blood out onto the floor as you shook your head. It was clear that they had no idea who you were or whose house they were in and you sort of loved that for them,
"Changbin will be back any minute, I'm surprised you even go in actually. Usually, Zach does a much better job of manning the gates," You hissed a little as you shifted uncomfortably in the chair you were strapped to, your eyes glancing at the door as it opened to reveal Zach standing there.
"I normally do, but when my two friends wanted to come inside I couldn't say no." Your heart sank as you thought about your own guard being the cause of all your pain for the last three hours. How long was he just going to let them keep hitting you?
"Change of plans tonight," He told them as you stared at him, your eyes tearing up a little as you realised not only had he betrayed you but also everyone else inside the home.
"Changbin pulled up in the drive, you'll need to take her through the garage while I keep him distracted," Your eyes shot to the window and then at the two men who were now standing either side of you, hooking their arms around yours and dragging you toward the garage door.
"LET ME GO!" You screamed, kicking your feet around but they continued to walk you inside while Changbin stopped at the door to talk to Zach. This was your chance, you quickly threw your head into the side of one of the men before kneeing the other one in the groyne and making a run for the emergency alarm, as soon as it sounded you ran through the doorway.
"CHANGBIN! DON'T TRUST HIM!" You screamed out before a shot rang out, you stopped on the porch to see Zach on the floor, blood dripping from his forehead.
"You okay?" Changbin panicked seeing the state of you, his hands holding onto your face gently as you nodded your head,
"I am now you're home. There's two more in the garage." You snuggled into his chest as he rubbed your lower back, promising never to let anything happen to you again,
HYUNJIN:
"You know, this is kind of all your fault," Bailey told Hyunjin as he stared up at you, your heart thumping rapidly as you looked at your husband.
"If you hadn't been late to your little date, Yn here wouldn't have a bomb strapped to her chest," You licked your lips slowly as you tried to calm yourself down a little, your eyes finding Hyunjins as he tried to calculate a way out of this.
"You should never leave a lady waiting Hyunjin." Bailey was one of Hyunjin's oldest rivals, he'd been after Hyunjin's position in the mafia for a long time and this was his final way of trying to get it. He either took Hyunjin down or he died trying, even if it meant taking you with him.
"Let her go, she's not involved in any of this." Hyunjin pleaded, putting his gun down on the ground and showing that he was unarmed.
"Oh, but she is. Because if she's alive after I kill you, all your men obey her." You flinched a little as you felt Bailey grab your shoulder roughly,
"I had to think of a way you weren't going to be able to stop me, you don't have a bomb-disabling team so this felt like the best bet," Bailey finally let go of you before making his way down to Hyunjin and smirking,
"You had about 40 seconds for a goodbye," A beep sounded on your chest before Bailey ran from the building, and within a matter of seconds Hyunjin was beside you and looking at the clock.
"Hyunjin, go." You begged as he shook his head at you, picking up some scissors and looking at the colours. All of them were the colours that Bailey associated himself with except for one,
"I got this," He promised you, kissing your forehead
"Close your eyes, baby, I love you," He smiled weakly as you nodded at him,
"I love you too," You choked out, shutting your eyes as you waited for something, anything but nothing ever happened. You glanced down at the clock as it stopped moving,
"Take it off slowly and then we run," He told you as you carefully slid out of the chained-up bomb, running for the door just in case it went off. As soon as you were free you saw Bailey in cuffs, Hyunjin grabbed you and checked you over before looking at the cops and nodding for them to take him away.
JISUNG:
Your heart thumped rapidly as you looked up at Jisung, your hands clutching onto your stomach as he pressed down on it roughly. He was looking considerably pale now that you watched him,
"Jisung," You coughed out, a little blood falling from your mouth as he shook his head at you.
"No, don't. You need to save your strength," He told you as he looked around at the men in the room.
"GET A FUCKING AMBULANCE!" He barked out before you whined at him, there was already one on the way but he wasn't listening to anyone, not that you blamed him right now.
"Jisung, they know where your hideouts are, you need to go and protect everything," You knew you were dying, you could feel it with just how cold you were getting and how you could no longer feel the pain of your wound.
"I'm not leaving you." He sniffled a little as you reached your hand out to touch his cheek, blood smearing across his face but he didn't care.
"You have to." You whined out, looking over at some of his men who were already leaving to go and check on the hideouts that Jisung had spotted all over the city,
"No, I don't. No." He shook his head violently at you, there was no way he was just going to leave, not when you needed him the most. God, he was going to kill everyone that was involved in you being taken,
"Jisung, your men are going to die if you don't go."
"No...No! We still have so much to do, we have to make a family," He told you as he smiled, The two of you had been discussing having a baby for a while now and it was time he started putting his money where his mouth was.
"You need to make sure the boys take care of each other, and that they look after you." You reminded him as you licked your lips, trying to hold on for as long as you could.
"Stop saying goodbye!" He yelled out as the ambulance team walked in, they took over as they tried to patch you up,
"Don't say goodbye." He begged you as he tried to hold your hands but they were limp in his as you looked at him, gasping a little for air,
"Don't die on me, please don't die on me! Stay with me! Look at me...L-Look at me, I'm right here and you're going to be fine, oh god, please don't die on me...Please." He cried out, tears streaming down his cheeks as the paramedics shook their heads at him, his men dragging him away from you so that they could work on your wound.
[X]
"That beeping is annoying," You groaned, opening your eyes to see your husband in the chair beside your bed staring at you,
"It's better than you being dead though." He grumbled at you, leaning across and kissing the top of your head. The paramedics ended up being able to save you and after a four-hour-long surgery, you were on the mend properly from the stab wound.
"Did you catch them?" You asked him as he stared down at you.
"All dead. Except the one that stabbed you, figured I'd save him for you." He winks making you laugh before groaning at the pain.
"No laughing, got it." He chuckles before calling for the nurse to come in and check you over.
FELIX:
The second the double doors to the office burst open you knew who was there, you didn't need to be able to see for that. Ever since whoever took you, took you, they'd had you blindfolded with your hands bound behind your back. It was clear that they knew you knew how to fight since they didn't even give you a chance to fight back, choosing to sneak up when you were least expecting it and in a private car park.
"You're in trouble now," You sang out in a chipper mood before your chin was grabbed roughly and you felt the metal of a gun being pressed against your temple. It wasn't the first time your kidnappers had threatened you with a gun but you weren't going to show them fear, just like you hadn't done all day.
"We have your girl Felix! Now isn't the time to be playing games!" The man who was holding your face cried out and you fidgeted a little trying to get him to let go of you but he only tightened his grip making your jaw hurt more.
"Fucking let go of me," You hissed out, licking the man's hand and smirking as he grunted and pulled his hand away from you.
"She's a cocky little bitch, maybe we should just kill her." The man screamed out again,
"I wouldn't, I have men aiming guns at you from every inch of this place," Felix called out, watching you closely to make sure that you were okay. He'd been panicked all day going out of his mind trying to find you, Luckily for him, the men that took you hadn't been that good at covering their tracks.
"How about this?" The blindfold was suddenly ripped from your eyes and you blinked a little trying to get used to the sudden intake of light and your eyes instantly found Felix.
"Lix," You smiled warmly, looking at the man who took you and smirking a little. It was over for him.
"We let this one watch you bleed out before I slowly bleed her out too?" A knife was pulled from your kidnapper's pocket and Felix didn't even flinch, neither did you. Why did he think he could suddenly avoid all of the guns that were quite clearly aimed at him?
"Or..." He leant down toward you, the blade coming into contact with your skin as you let out a loud hiss,
"Don't touch her! Don't look at her, don't even BREATHE in her direction!" Felix screamed out before a shot rang out, The man dropped to the floor and Felix sprinted toward you, looking at your neck.
"He didn't cut deep... J- just a little cut," You hissed as Felix gently touched the small cut in your skin and you looked at him.
"You came for me." You breathed out in relief.
"Always." He whispered to you, kissing your forehead as his men worked around him to make sure the place was clear of anyone else.
SEUNGMIN:
As soon as Seungmin found you he'd been doing nothing but blame himself for everything that happened to you. Contemplating the what ifs and what could have been and it was torture to himself. He'd been on a rampage for days on end trying to find you until he finally tracked down the low-lives that thought they were ever going to be able to get away with what they'd tried to do. As soon as he came home to see you weren't waiting for him he knew there was something wrong, Then there were the phone calls demanding money and other things in exchange for you being brought back alive. All of which Seungmin was doing, whilst tracking them down until he found them in some dingy apartment in the rougher side of town. The sight of the place made him sick but what was worse was seeing you so visibly shaken up, you were terrified and it was enough for him to want to rip their heads off. Usually, he was on the calmer side of things but something snapped inside of him when he found out that you'd been taken and he was no longer the lenient man he was known to be.
"Boss, what shall we do with them?" Seungmin finally tore his eyes away from you and over at the two men who were now on their knees staring at you and Seungmin. The two of them were shaking and begging for their lives but no one was listening, not even when one of them wet themselves the second Seungmin burst through the door,
"Did they touch you?" Seungmin quizzed looking back at you as you looked up at him, it was obvious by the busted lip you were sporting that they'd hit you but it had only been once.
"When they took me," You mumbled a little, reaching out for Seungmin's hand desperate to feel his touch on you and for you to feel close to him once again. It had been four days trapped with the two idiots in front of you, no food and limited water and all you wanted was for your husband to hold onto you.
"Kill them. Slowly." Seugmin ordered, shrugging off his blazer before wrapping it around your shoulders and bringing you closer to him.
"Let's get you home," He whispered, wiping his thumb under your eye to get rid of the tears that were slowly escaping.
JEONGIN:
Jeongin was known for thinking rationally when it came to things in his world but the second you'd been taken it was like his rationality and humanity had gone out of the window someone had flicked a switch inside of him and he was going to stop at nothing in order to get you back. That was why there was a trail of bodies leading toward the men that had taken you, Jeongin was taking no apologies when it came to your safety, anyone that had been involved was a dead man - or woman - walking.
"You finally found us, it took you long enough." Jason cried out as you stared at Jeongin with tears in your eyes. Your arms were chained up while you were being held above the floor so your tip toes were just barely touching the floor and every inch of your body ached.
"What did you do to her?" Jeongin asked as he stepped closer to Jason, your eyes glancing at Jason's hands to see the gun he had waiting for your husband. For the last four days, you'd had to listen to him tell you how he was going to kill your husband, how he hated him and yet he hadn't taken the shot yet.
"Why?" Jason laughed obnoxiously and you stared at Jeongin, your throat too dry to get any kind of warning out that Jason was more dangerous than he seemed.
"So I know what to do to you when I get you back to my place," Jeongin growled out, there was a darkness in his eyes you'd never seen before and you weren't sure if it made you nervous or not.
"Well, we drugged her - of course, but that's what she gets for leaving her drink unattended." He laughed and you cringed a little remembering the day that he took you,
"Then we chained her up to the crane and just had some fun, no food and water will do a lot to a person." Jeongin refused to look at you right now, if he looked at you he would lose his concentration and right now he needed to keep Jason as distracted as he could.
"All of those people that choose to help you, they're all dead now." He announced casually smirking as Jason's eyes widened by a small fraction,
"No..." Jason would have heard long before now. He had people everywhere waiting for him, working for him, it was the plan to take over from Jeongin.
"Yes. A pile of bodies here and there and all because of you." Jeongin stared at Jason,
"You son of a bitch!" He screamed out, the gun turned toward you and you squeezed your eyes waiting for the impact but as the gun rang out you felt nothing,
"You're safe, I've got you," Jeongin called out as he lowered the crane, your arms falling around the back of his neck as you cried into his shoulder.
"I've got you, baby, shh." He cooed, soothing his hand over your back as he continued to cradle you in his arms, arranging a way for you to get home where he never had to let go of you.
Tagline: @chiisaiblog @hanasonmi i @sw33tnight night @taestannie @acciocriativity @scarletemeterio @halesandy dy @aerastus @laylasbunbunny @critssq @lenfilms @btsiguess-kpop @meowmeowisdaname @imafivestarkpopstan @lost-leopard-beanie @djeniryuu @backintomykpopphaseagain @choisoorin
833 notes · View notes
edytae · 4 months
Text
"heat" (smut/mature) ft. Kim Taehyung x reader
Tumblr media
(do not interact if you are underage)
pairing: Taehyung x (female) reader
summary: Taehyung gladly lets you use him during your "heat".
rating: 18+
genre/warnings: smut, established relationship, !werewolfTaehyung, !humanreader, reader goes crazy horny, just a brain dump bc Taehyung is so f*cking hot!
word count: 3.5K
A/N: Check these out! masterlist | inexperienced | you’re mine | Spoiled | take a break | Best Dad-dy (smut) |
“Tae, Tae, Tae…” You called out his name as you tried to move yourself. “Please, let me go!” Your sweet begs would never change his mind.
“Baby, did you lose your mind?” He asked breathily as you tried to peel his hands off. 
“I just want your dick, please. Why don’t you-” You hiccupped and cried. Your desperate need for him came over you so needily that Taehyung needed to stop you. 
“You will hurt yourself, baby.” He lovingly explained while patting your face to calm your cry. He gave two gentle kisses to your soiled cheeks.
“Oh my sweet human…” Taehyung caressed your body as you shook under him. Taehyung was a wolf by birth. He was a promising wolf in his tribe and loved by everyone including town people even though they didn’t know Taehyung’s tribe’s secrets.
For you, being with Taehyung was the most natural thing. He was your childhood love that transformed into something bigger, but as magical as always. Now, you knew him very well; he was a good man that could turn into a big puppy. 
Taehyung’s supernatural nature had a very traditional family aspect built into it. His tribe had become your second family with endless fun, dirty dishes and no leftovers. Taehyung’s tribe was his source of information about his nature. However, as human mates were rare, their nature wasn’t fully unknown. So, when your first heat came up, Taehyung was shocked at what to do. 
Well, he obviously knew what to do, but it didn’t expect you to have longer and more desperate heats as if your human body didn’t know how to process the superhuman urges. 
You were doing anything that a wolf would do. You were rutting against his limbs, sniffing him so deeply and licking all over his skin while burning with passion and leaking all over yourself. It was debilitating to the point where you said it was worse than your period. 
When he brought this up to Yoongi, his older brother emotionlessly commented, “Stop complaining. It’s not something you can’t keep up with.” Yoongi had a human mate but he wasn’t helping since he was very secretive with his partner. Despite everything, Taehyung had never seen someone have this much strong heat. 
It also didn’t help that you were so small for him. Tiny, itsy bitsy compared to him, way softer. You could only take only half of him when you tried your best and kept asking for more while Taehyung watched your juicy cunt stretch around him. Oh, then you smelled literally intoxicating. You alerted him with your naughty pheromones and turned him into a sex machine every single month. 
You pleaded again, this time hands holding his collar. You tried to shake Taehyung with every word.  “I want it to hurt. I- I just want you in me, okay? Fuck me, finger me- Fucking fist me! I just need you in me, Taehyung, please….” 
It was difficult for him as it was difficult for you. “You dirty princess.” Taehyung ever so slightly pulled your hair from the root, making your eyes roll back with pleasure. You followed his pull and climbed to his lap. Your lips immediately found his neck, licking it like a little kitten, rather than a scary wolf.
Taehyung fisted his hand on his lap, “You want me to fist you?” He laughed a bit too dangerously. “You can’t even take three of my fingers without crying, you dirty girl.”
His dirty talk was sweet nothings to your ears. As soon as your lips hit his smooth skin you were gone. It was very convenient that he was always burning hot so you lost your shirts in seconds. 
“You don’t have a bra on?” He hissed when your bare skin hit him through his skirt. “No? Why would I need extra layers?” You mumbled while your lips sucked his neck a big red bruise. 
Taehyung’s voice grumbled in his throat as you begged him further. “Take me to our bed, Tae…” Your voice was so weak and desperate. Taehyung followed your request. 
When his back hit the bed, you were back to ravaging him crazy. “Take it off, for fucks sake!” You complained when his cardigan tangled everywhere.
Taehyung airily laughed, “Don’t say bad words!” He spanked you with his large hand. You cried out fake tears. “What do you want, baby?” He asked as he watched you grind against his crotch mindlessly. 
“I- i… I feel so horny for you, baby.” You cried again, fingers digging at his soft skin. 
“Ride me until you are satisfied, okay?” He cooed your face as you got him out of his boxers and hovered over him. 
You were trying to get him ready as if he needed to. He was fucking ready for you before he knocked on the front door. His nose picked up on your smell, and his wolf brain realised his mate needed to be impregnated. 
“Tae…” You sighed as your soaked pussy touched his flaming hot tip. He immediately oozed some precum for you. You rubbed his head against your sensitive lips and whined, “Ahh, so good.” You let his dick go as it could stand by itself. You held Taehyung’s shoulders with both your hands and nestled his cock between your pussy lips. You were too eager but not stretched enough, you glided against his cock, and let his head hit your clit as you experienced pure bliss. 
Thankfully, Taehyung’s wolf nature came with strong stamina even though he felt himself spending after a night with you. 
“Good job…” He whispered as your cries subdued with the contact. His body drugged you like a sweet painkiller. “All you need is my dick, right?” He helped you glide over his dick. 
You hummed, “Yes… It is all...” You slurred. His pretty cockhead was bumping right against your clit as you leaked all over him. Taehyung was glad that your heartbeat calmed down a little bit. Your body was decently relaxed on top of him, but you still shivered from pleasure. 
“My sweet girl…” Taehyung caressed your face and got your hair out of your face. You basically purred into his skin. “You feel amazing, Taetae…” 
Your eyes were closed, your hands on Taehyung’s shoulders to get a good grip to glide yourself on him. You were focused on the pleasure. 
A smile covered your face, you let out a giggle. “Taetae…” You moaned his nickname out. A few giggles left your mouth. 
“What is my darling?” Taehyung asked attentively as your body gently twitched in his hold. Taehyung felt your juices slowly seep out and cover his dick. You made him sticky with your cunt. Your giggles now made more sense. 
You slowly let yourself lay on Taehyung’s chest, “I came Taetae.” You still had the most alluring giggle on your lips. 
“You just cum, baby?” He was intrigued. When you nodded like a jello in his arms, he decided to tease you. “But it has only been three minutes, baby?” 
Again, you gave him a sweet giggle, picked yourself up again and continued to pleasure yourself without caring about Taehyung’s poor dick getting drenched. 
Taehyung then realised what he was in… You continued to ride him for multiple orgasms. 
“Taehyung, oh, baby!” Taehyung wanted to pray for his God as you moaned out loud for the umpteenth time. You were holding his large hands as he supported you as you jumped on his dick like a crazy woman. “Y-you’r- s-so good! Oh- my!” You folded over his body once again as your cunt clenched over him again. You let his hands go as you lay over him, breathing frantically against his neck.
“Did you cum again, baby?” He asked hoarsely. His throat was dry from watching your goddess body ride him like you were obliged to. You rubbed your face to his neck, a sob left your mouth. “Yes, I did. I can’t stop, Taetae…” You confessed ever shy. Your pussy wasn’t shy at all. She was glamorously covering him in your sweet slick, squeezing him for his worth and cumming endlessly. 
“How many times did you cum, baby?” His hands caressed your lower back. He was tempted to spank your ass but the way you shake in his arms stopped him. “S-so many times…” You murmured and you picked yourself up again. Despite your messy hair and make-up and overstimulated state, you sat back up, intertwined hands and started riding him again. You were slow this time, but your thighs were more separated now, giving you a deeper angle to take him. Most of your thrusts were irregular as you got comfortable with the depth. Nevertheless, Taehyung was holding his orgasm vigorously.
“Ah, f-fuck!” You squeezed Taehyung’s hand, your face crumbled in a cry. “You feel s-so big!” Your hips halted with their jumping motion and you started to swirl your hips around. A high-pitched whine followed your actions. “Y-you are so long, fuck!” 
Taehyung was deep inside you. He could feel how you moved around to feel every inch of him. “Ggg-” Taehyung only could give you a low growl. “Getting a good feel of me, heh?” He asked. If you weren’t holding his hands this tightly, he would have given your ass a strong spank, or to your delicious boobs. 
“Yes, baby…” You arched back, Taehyung was sure that he hit the correct place. When you repeated your cute little swirl over and over again, he was sure that you were cumming again. 
“Tae…” Taehyung felt his cock getting flooded by your cum once again. The worst thing was he desperately both needed to cum and didn’t want to cum. 
“Baby… Are you–” He was enamoured by your pleasure. Despite losing your mind a few orgasms ago, you still had the audacity to play with him. 
“Are you mad at me, Taetae?” You pouted with his dick bulging your stomach. Your one hand caressed his face. Taehyung could see your act from a mile away so he bucked his hips up to you.
“Ahh, so biggg…” Your face crumbled in a second with a hazy burn. “You are so deep, baby.” You clawed at his shoulders but didn’t pull him out.
“Mhmm, I am going again…” You gulped, your hips going at their full speed. As your high reached again, you let yourself fall into Taehyung’s chest and cried a full orgasm out in his arms. The sight of your face fully comforted in pleasure was too arousing for Taehyung that he flooded your soppy cunt with his seed. As Taehyung came, his hips moved slightly and yes, feeling him cum you gave him another small orgasm. 
“Bab-y, how on earth?” He asked you with a strained voice. It took everything in him not to continue slamming you stupidly on his cock. 
“I-Iam sorry, it-’s just that- you know my hea-t makes me like this…”  You dared to apologise while subtly continuing to ride his softened cock. 
“Don’t ever apologise!” Taehyung warned you. What the fuck you were apologising for? For riding him like a good girl?
You shrugged with a pout. “You should have never let me fuck you. Now, I don’t want to stopp-” Your hands find their places on Taehyung’s shoulders. You could easily hold onto the bed and fuck yourself but no, you had to touch him.
“I fucking love it when you are like this…” Taehyung hissed through overstimulation. You were the one who fucking came back-to-back and yet he was the little overstimulated bitch. 
“You do?” You hummed as your hips sped up. 
“Fuck, yes!” Taehyung gave you a well-deserved spank on your ass. 
“Ah, don’t hit me! I am s-so sensitive…” You whined; your pout was still on. 
Taehyung rubbed the spot, feeling a little bit guilty. “Mhmm, you are my sensitive little baby, aren’t you?” You nodded; head thrown back. 
“You can’t make your cunt stop cumming… Oh, sweet baby.” Taehyung cooed your face in his palm. You nuzzled against his hand. So, you wanted to ride him like a starved slut and still act like a pampered princess. Okay, he could do that. 
“Do you like it this slow, baby?” He asked gently, his hand dropping to your waist. “Yes, I-I love it…”
“How does it feel?” He breathlessly asked. 
“Like… like I am on top of the world.” You mumbled, speaking true from your mind. Taehyung felt his heart stutter. “Is that so? Do you like using my dick for your pleasure? Come on, baby, use me nice and good” You cried listening to him. He was yours to use, yes. He was all yours. “I-I am h-having f-fun with yo-r dick.” You nodded while your hips worked their magic to make him hit your G spot. 
Taehyung chuckled, “Yes, you have so much fun, baby. I can tell by how many times you came.” You hissed when he tried to fasten your hips. You needed your own pace and so Taehyung opted for simply caressing your waist with his warm large hands when you whined. 
“Your hands feel so warm…so big…” You took a big breath and continued. “A-and your body… s-so big and s-safe for me… I love y-you so muc-h.” While you confessed, tears streamed down your face like an overstimulated baby girl you are. Your hands caressed his honey skin, feeling his silky-smooth body.
“Y/N…” Taehyung breathed out your name slowly and dragged every single syllable. He was getting close to his orgasm again but he didn’t want to end your fun by cumming too soon. 
“Taehyung…” You mimicked him, voice entrenched in pleasure. 
“Baby, I will cum, very soon.” He whispered. He felt like you needed a warning.
“Me too!” You cried. “You will make me cum again! That’s s-so…” 
Taehyung couldn’t bear your slow impaired pace so he started pounding you from where he lay. “Baby…” Your figure immediately shook and you couldn’t hold yourself up on Taehyung’s lap. When you laid over Taehyung, he wrapped his arms around you. He had more control over the position despite having your entire body over him. 
His ragged, low grunts filled your ear. “Yo-r moans…” Your whimpers made him grunt even more. “I-i could c-cum j-st listenin- you, Taetae… You-r ss-sexy…” 
Taehyung squeezed your ass, “Do it then baby.” He talked behind his gritted teeth. “You did come a handful of times, yeah? Why don’t you cum for me again? Let me see how your eyes roll back.” He was mean. He fucking knew what his words did to you. He knew his voice was the reason why you whined like a little slut. “Taetae…” You whined his nickname out with a big sigh and shook in his arms.
“Pretty girl, cum for me like that.” Taehyung followed your orgasm with his and exploded inside you. You ride him through his orgasm despite the overstimulation. He felt so creamy and snuggly when he came. He always gifted you so many good sensations so you retaliated back. “Thank you, baby.” You whispered in his ear while your hips worked subtly. You kissed his forehead. “Thank you, thank you, thank you for-” You hiccuped while Taehyung kept cumming endlessly as you rode him out. “You had so much cum for me…” Your voice was so quiet as if you were afraid that someone would hear you. Taehyung answered only with a grunt and lay with afterglow. You laid back on him fully and cuddle him with his softened dick still inside you.
“Please don’t move…” You whimpered when he tried to move. “I want to stay like this for the rest of the night.” And you did. 
Taehyung was well accustomed to having you sleep on top of him so he fell into a deep slumber after his brain got washed up with sex chemicals. You were drugging his mind so sweetly that he was addicted to you. 
As if you could hear his thoughts, you gently twitched in his arms, clearly waking up. He didn’t open his eyes. “Mhmm…” You moaned. Right then your walls clenched on his soft dick. It felt amazing like his dick getting a hug from your juicy walls. Then, you picked yourself up from his chest. You have drooled on his chest. “Ah!” You winced in pain right as you pulled Taehyung out of you. Taehyung always wondered what you were up to when he was sleeping.
When you pulled Taehyung’s cock out, cum that was plugged into you dripped out to his thighs. It was both an erotic and messy sight. Your womanhood didn’t feel good, your entire midriff was sore. You rolled off Taehyung’s large frame and your back hit the bed after hours of extreme sporty activity that was riding Taehyung. 
You looked over his handsome face. All of his muscles were relaxed. He wasn’t frowning, clenching his teeth or anything. He was sleeping like your cute bear. You couldn’t help your heart swell for him. Your lips wanted to peck that gorgeous face. Taehyung and you did dive into a little bit of somnophilia, but nothing fully. You would never say no to waking up Taehyung's tongue in between your legs. So, you were comfortable giving him an innocent kiss on his forehead. You brushed his fluffy hair back and kissed his forehead again. You murmured something but Taehyung couldn’t catch it. When Taehyung thought you were getting up, he felt another kiss. This time on his shoulder. Another kiss was granted to him in seconds. They were so gentle, almost like a feather tickling his skin. You snuggled to his side while giving him some small kisses. It was more for you to get up and have some motivation to clean yourself. 
When you got up, Taehyung sneakily peeked. You were rushing to the bathroom with your hand cupping your sex so that nothing would leak. It was so fucking hot. Taehyung considered getting up and joining you, but he decided to stay in. It was one of the best decisions he made tonight because when you joined back to him on the bed a few minutes later, you showered him with gentle kisses. It was like you couldn’t get enough of him. You always said this would be the last but pressed another kiss only seconds later. 
“Sleep well, my Taetae bear.” This time Taehyung heard your voice. Then, you snuggled him again and threw your one leg over him. Taehyung fell asleep after that. The last thing he remembered was how you played with his fingers. You lay next to Taehyung, your head resting on his shoulder as you listened to his gentle snoring. The rhythmic sound vibrated through the room, creating a soothing ambience that lulled you into a state of tranquillity.
As you gazed at Taehyung's peaceful face, you couldn't help but feel a rush of affection for the man lying beside you. His snoring was like a sweet lullaby to your ears, a reminder of his presence and the comfort he brings to your life.
You watched as his chest rose and fell with each breath, vibrating with the gentle snores that escaped his lips. It was a symphony of sound that intertwined with your love for him. In this simple act of slumber, Taehyung radiated an aura of vulnerability and warmth that captivated you.
Unable to resist, your hand reached out to gently trace the contours of his face, your fingers gliding across his cheek with tender adoration. You marvelled at the way his snores continued uninterrupted.
As your lips pressed softly against his temple, you felt a surge of tenderness swell within you. It was a pure and profound love that filled your heart, a love that was intensified by the gentle snores that escaped his lips. At this moment, you are overwhelmed by the depth of your emotions, a deep-seated yearning to protect and cherish him. And with that realization, you close your eyes, feeling a sense of peace wash over you, as you drift into a blissful sleep, cradled by the gentle serenade of Taehyung's snoring.
Morning came fast and early. You snuggled to his side; Taehyung didn’t want to get up despite being awake for hours. It was his turn to watch you sleep. He spent the entire morning pressed against you, titties he adored only a reach away from his hand. If you didn’t look so comfortable wrapped in his arms, he would selfishly pull himself back and drown in your titties. Until your sleeping figure decided it was over, Taehyung cuddled you back. He wanted his every day to be like this. 
masterlist | inexperienced | you’re mine | Spoiled |take a break | Best Dad-dy (smut) |
285 notes · View notes