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k-hotchoisan · 5 months

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mmmmmm been thinkin abt photographer!san right nd he is know for his boudoir photography but his latest client’s got him in a chokehold like god how is she so fuckin sexy nd he can’t focus at all bc fuck all he wants to do is fuck her senseless— HELP

Your wish is my command Angel! Thank you for being patient 😘

As always, enjoy 🩷

snap.

Synopsis: encouraged by your friend, you give boudoir photography a try after recovering from a break up, you find yourself doing more than just be a model.

Genres/warnings: smut, boudoir photographer!San x model!reader, sexual tension, unprotected sex, cream pies, mention of oral

Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @voicesinmyhead-rc @pre1ttyies

“Boudoir photography?” You reiterate. Your friend nods.

“A friend of a friend of a friend tried it recently and apparently she’s been full of confidence. Her boyfriend adores it too!” Your friend squeals.

You scrunch your eyebrows, wondering how semi-nude photos taken by a professional photographer in this niche would boost one’s confidence.

Your friend’s eyes dart to you again, and then your phone pings. You look at the link your friend sent you. It’s a referral code for a promotion. You turn to her, gaze still dripping with skepticism.

“Come on, just try it. You’re a lovely person and you deserve to see it for yourself! Boudoir photography might really help at not being constantly self critical.”

You weren’t an entirely insecure person, and you were sure of that. It’s just that, after the rough break up with your ex, and seeing them move on instantly (like two fuckin weeks) with a new partner, undoubtedly was a gut punch to your self esteem, while you were still stuck grieving over the lost relationship and wasted time.

You’ve heard of boudoir photography, but you’ve never actually understood the concept of it, considering that it was niche, and that you don’t really know the point of it. You glance down at the referral link before deciding to just fuck it and sign up.

San is working overtime again, meticulously editing and touching up the photos. It’s become a natural part of him to almost be a perfectionist, whether when on the ground taking photos of the model or the post editing process. But he never loses the sight of letting the women shine naturally through their photos. After all, in such a niche market, they picked him. Definitely, he has his mix of male boudoir models, but the women evidently take up a higher ratio. He understands that one of the most important aspects of boudoir photography is trust and comfort with his models, which has them coming back for more sessions, sometimes even with their partners.

Setting up his own business in such a niche market was difficult of course, and he’s grateful that he’s managed to make a name for himself. But sometimes he’s grateful that his good looks are an added bonus to drawing in his clients.

His email pings and it makes him pause his work. Maybe he should finish it tomorrow. San glances at the fresh email that sits in his inbox.

An appointment via referral.

He opens it, and looks through the client’s information. At the bottom box for comments, sits a short question.

[Just wondering, what should I expect for my appointment? Is there anything I should prepare?]

He takes a moment before he drafts a reply.

[Hey there! Nice to meet you. I’m Choi San, boudoir photographer of Woodie’s Studios. First of all, thank you for choosing our studio for your boudoir experience!

Regarding your question, come in with an open mind. For what to wear, you may bring a set of clothes/lingerie of whatever you feel confident in.

I don’t bite, I promise!]

He reads the reply a second time before he hits send. It’s not as if it’s the first time he’s gotten questions like these anyway. His train of concentration is broken, so he decides to call it a night.

You reach the opaque door of a clean-looking studio apartment. The sign has San’s studio name and logo imprinted on it, so you’re sure that you are at the right location.

You press the door bell and it chimes a lovely tune. There is a quiet pause, before the door handle clicks and the door itself pulls back. Before you stood a really, no, an insanely good looking, tall male. His glasses rest loosely on the bridge of his nose as his small eyes meet yours. His brunette hair is slightly messy. He wears an expression of confusion at first, but it turns into something unreadable. You think for a spilt second that he may have gotten the wrong client, but your rationale reminds you that you did send him photos of yourself so he’s able to recognise you. You blink once, then twice because you were starting to get lost at how handsome your photographer was.

“Choi San..?” you say, with a small tilt of your head.

Then it’s his turn to blink, and he snaps out of that small trance he seemed to be caught in for a few seconds. Then a smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he greets you.

“Hey! Y/n right? Sorry, was tryna recognise you. I promise I don’t usually take that long to process”, he chuckles, pulling the door wider as he ushers you in, reminding you to switch out your shoes for the apartment slippers.

The hallway San brings you down is brightly lit and spilt into a couple of sections which you assumed one of them would be the photo studio itself. A couple of posters of pin up girls hang on the walls, all of them beautiful and stunning.

He then stops at a glass door and pushes it, to what you assumed to be his office.

“Make yourself comfortable. I’ll get you a cup of tea. Any preferences?”, he gestures. You shake your head as you let yourself sink into the velvet couch, gingerly leaving your bag of clothing beside you. San gives a polite nod and excuses himself to the pantry.

And the moment the door shuts behind him, he tears his glasses off the bridge of his nose and hooks the branch onto his collar.

His hand is placed over his heart.

San has photographed many different women over the course of his career, some breathtakingly beautiful. But none has ever made his heart skip a beat and caused his words to be stuck at the back of his throat, not like you did. He doesn’t know what has gotten into him. It wasn’t like he didn’t know how you looked like—the pictures you sent served that purpose. Maybe it was the fact that he never expected you to look like that in real life, and for once, he almost doesn’t know how to react. His thoughts are all over the place as he paces into the pantry to prepare your tea. As he’s dipping the tea bag into the piping hot water, he begins feeling self conscious—was his hair too shrivelled? Did he smell bad? Was there something on his face? He tightens his grip on the mug and hastily makes his way back to his office.

San returns, with a smile on his face as he settles the cup onto the coffee table before you, and he joins you, seated on a velvet armchair across you.

“Take your time”, he reassures. “We can start after this, if you’re feeling comfortable, or we can just talk a little to ease your nerves.” It doesn’t take you much to think—you opt for the latter of course.

San laughs and nods. “I get that a lot, especially from first time female clients. It’s valid of course, having a male being your photographer for boudoir can sound off-putting. Perhaps looking at my portfolio might put you slightly at ease?” He reaches out for a large and thick leather-bound photo album. You let it rest on your lap as you receive it with a soft “thank you”, and flip the album open, and you’re instantly awestruck—San’s work spoke for himself. The models were diverse, both in nationalities and body shapes, all equally stunning and sensual in their own expressive ways. The only common denominator was the glint of genuine emotion and confidence reflected in their eyes.

You wonder to yourself—could you look and feel as confident as them? As you skim through the pictures, you feel yourself falling in love with the models as well—their genuine smiles when they do and the gazes they give.

When San catches himself staring at you being absorbed in admiring his portfolios, he feels his cheeks flush and he looks down, wondering what you think of it all.

“I see why you have so many clients. The pictures are gorgeous”, you say, shutting the photo album and handing it back to him. San flashes a sheepish smile and mutters a “thank you” loud enough for you to hear. The silence in the room remains a for awhile as you sip the tea, letting it calm your nerves. You don’t even know it but the person with actual jittery nerves was San himself, a feeling that he never expected to feel since the last time he did was when he started out this business three years ago.

“So… what’s the goal of being a boudoir model, if you don’t mind me asking? Like was it a long time thing you wanted to try or was it something spontaneous?” He asks to break the silence.

“I broke up with my ex recently”, you respond curtly, before taking another sip of the tea. Damn, this is some good ass tea. San blinks at your reply, unsure of what to make out of the bluntness. Before he attempts to reply, you continue, “and my friend sent me a referral to your studio, and I thought to myself, why not? I want to feel confident in my own skin. Also, I think it’s an interesting way of self exploration.” Your gaze meets his, and it’s his turn to look awestruck. You try to ignore the flutter in your chest when he laughs softly, when his smile reaches his eyes. It’s the way that he’s confident of his craft, and it’s making you warm up to him even more.

Your fingertips tap on the mug softly. Your gaze lands on the photobook once more.

“Does taking such risqué pictures affect you when you first started out?” You ask before taking another sip. San ponders about the question for awhile. He has people asking him that before, but for some reason, he wants to be slightly more transparent with you.

“I don’t see about my clients in a sexual way, even if they physically look appealing to me. In the end, self confidence and comfort always comes first, and I think that’s what I enjoy seeing in my clients when they become more comfortable in their own skin. People don’t understand how difficult it is to fully love yourself”, he replies.

That’s when you understand why San’s photography studio had so many recurring clients.

“Why boudoir? I think sensuality and intimacy is a form of art. It’s beautiful—watching people discover parts of themselves they never knew existed and falling in love. You don’t have to be conventionally attractive to be a boudoir model.

The money’s good, of course, but the satisfaction of watching my clients giving me feedback of them realising they deserve to love themselves more, or discovering other sides of themselves is nothing short of rewarding.”

By the time he’s done explaining, you feel a rush of confidence in yourself. It’s only been about ten minutes since the both of you just sat and talked, but you see that he definitely prioritises your comfort before he even begins the sessions. You ball your fingers into a fist, meeting San’s gaze with determination, telling him, “I think I’m ready.”

San’s eyes brighten up. “Great! You can use the bathroom to the left, and I’ll meet you at the photo studio just opposite the office.” He stands up, opening the door for you, and you bow slightly in courtesy as you head to the washroom to change. San’s heart beats faster, wondering what you’re gonna wear for the shoot.

San is fixing the sheets of the bed, then the studio lights at the perfect angle he wants it to be. His heart is still racing as he walks over to the tripod, glancing over at the door from time to time, awaiting for your arrival.

He perks up when he sees you walk in with a bathrobe on and he greets you cheerfully again, trying to hide his excitement.

You wave back with a smile, letting the environment of the photo studio sink in. The basic package for first timers consisted of a bed shoot, so it’s no surprise you see a bed in the middle of the room, covered in white. The bed looks comfy and you giggle to yourself, wondering if you’d end up falling asleep mid-shoot from how nice the bed looks.

“Anytime you’re ready”, San reminds you, carrying the tripod in one hand, his biceps flexing as he does, and it makes you blush slightly, which was ridiculous. Why are you swooning over your handsome photographer carrying the tripod with one arm? Suddenly you’re self conscious again, your fingers clutching against the black bathrobe. It was frustrating that you couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was making you nervous, but you weren’t about to back out.

San continues to adjust his camera on the tripod, and his gaze absentmindedly shifts towards you, and his breath gets stuck in his throat, watching you undress from the bathrobe, revealing a white button up over black lace lingerie. It’s not anything new, but for some reason he can’t seem to tear his eyes off you—the way the panties hugs your hips and the bra cups your breasts, the garter belt hugging your waist and the straps hanging past your panties. He watches you climb onto the bed, eyes shutting briefly as you sink into the mattress with a soft smile.

He’s not confident that he’s able to last through the shoot, not when you’re looking like that.

“Is it too cold here?” San asks, trying to divert his attention from his perverse thoughts. You pop up from the sheets, the collars of the shirt slipping past your shoulders, obviously too big for you. That does nothing to help him with his thoughts.

“No, I think the temperature’s okay. Shall we get started?” You ask, buttoning up your shirt, the white material pathetically sheer that San is able to see the black bra peeking through.

The sight of you in an oversized shirt on, with no pants, just your underwear on is like a meal for San’s eyes. He hides behind the camera to hide his flushing cheeks, only to face your body through the viewfinder, watching you preparing to pose as you position yourself at the end of the bed, turning your body slightly to the side with one leg up, your thighs in full view, with the sleeves of the shirt covering most of your fingers, and your gaze right into the camera lens.

San takes a deep breath. Forty five minutes. He can do this.

“Sure. Ready whenever you are, y/n.”

It turns out to be a very agonising forty five minutes. While the both of you were cracking jokes during the shoot, San finds himself getting more distracted when you gradually remove your shirt, and when your poses grow ever more risqué—at one point you remove your bra and fit your shirt over again, which definitely made San grow very restless when he’s unable to tear his eyes away from your bare chest.

Midway through the shoot, all that swarms his mind is wondering how your body would feel against his, how your bare skin would feel under his hands, what kind of faces you would make when you’re under him.

What kind of noises you would make for him when he fits his cock right into you. He wants to fuck you so hard that your mind goes blank—so good that you’ll never remember your ex.

San blinks, his finger still on the shutter button. He doesn’t know what washed over him, but what he does know is the taut feeling in his pants, and he internally heaves a sigh of relief that he decided to wear cargo pants. Nonetheless, he hopes that it isn’t obvious. Well, it shouldn’t be, as long as you don’t ask for close up shots.

“San! Could you come closer for my close ups?” You call out, letting the collar of your shirt fall off your shoulder once more, revealing your bare shoulders, and reminding him that you were still braless underneath the loose clothing article.

Fuck.

San forces a smile, unlatching his camera and trying to walk normally without letting his erection steal your attention.

He reaches to where you are, reminding himself to stay professional, but when he meets your playful gaze, all he wants to do is pin you down. Your eyes twinkle with allure as you prepare your next pose. You get it now—the confidence that slowly trickles into you after every photo taken. You’ve never realised that you had this side of yourself, not until now, and you love it.

The close up shots only spell another layer of doom for San—he adores the budding confidence that you exude, but it makes it even harder for him to hold back, watching you make sultry expressions and poses close up. Through the viewfinder, his eyes try to focus on taking the photo but he finds himself being entranced by your stare. He counts down, then taking a few shots, not missing the growing smile you had.

San puts his camera away, reaching forward to your face to remove a stray hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear, and his touch is warm on your face. It’s then you realise how physically close San is to you—you smell his cologne and it leaves your mind blank for a spilt second. He’s absorbed in fixing your hair, combing the strays off your face, the sound of his quiet breathing the only thing you hear. You look away, wondering if your heartbeat is loud enough for him to hear, and you hope it isn’t. San gives you a soft smile when his eyes finally meet yours.

He pulls back, preparing to take his camera for the next shot, but his leg gets tangled in the sheets.

Everything happens in a spilt second—his knee that shifts forward at first, pressing against the sheet that has unknowingly tangled around his other leg, then San trying to get up quickly with the tangled leg, realising a little too late by the time he falls right onto the bed.

Right onto you.

He almost squishes you. Almost. But he lands above you, supported by his elbows just in time before his body is in contact with yours.

Your heart races, way too quick for you to even process what just occurred. All knew you was:

One; San is right above you,

Two; his lips are hovering over yours,

Three; you feel something pressing against your pelvis.

And San stares down at you, his heart beating in his ears. He takes in the sight of you below him—eyes looking up at him through fluttered lashes, your heat radiating against his skin, your lips slightly parted in surprise.

As well as the strain in his pants when his eyes instinctively lower to your bare chest, your nipples peeking through your shirt, and that his little problem is just resting right on you.

“I’m sorry”, San whispers, breaking the silence that had hung between the both of you. “This usually doesn’t happen…”

You crack an amused smile. “Usually?”you reiterate teasingly. A tint of red flushes San’s cheeks and his clothed erection presses harder against your bare skin, and it makes you bite your lip.

“Fuck. I mean, this never happens. It’s just.. I’ve never felt this way about my boudoir models…”, he trails off. “I think you’re fucking stunning since you entered the studio, and I think you’re even more stunning now.”

Your heart flutters at his confession and this time, you feel yourself blush. A soft laugh escapes from the male above you when he sees you avoid eye contact from the shyness. His strings of rationale—yelling at him to stay professional—is snapping. He’s not lying. He’s never felt so attracted to any of his models before, until you, and now that he has you trapped under him, he doesn’t want to lose that chance.

“Should we end the session here?” San asks, with a quick glance at your pretty red lips.

Your fingers are playing with the dangling silver chain that he wears. He lets you, waiting for your response before he catches your gaze dances back to meet his again. Your hands shift to caress San’s jaw, and he takes it as a sign to make his move. You inhale softly as you feel his lips press onto yours, and it makes your head spin with glee. He tastes so heavenly, and your legs clench at the feeling that flutters between your thighs.

San slightly presses his body weight onto you, his erection only growing harder against your thigh. But it looks like he’s taking his time.

His fingertips warm your skin, and he lets them slip up your body, until he’s at your chest, barely covered by the sheer cotton material. His thumbs grazes against your nipples, and you gasp in between open mouthed kisses. You feel him smile, and he applies pressure, and the sensation goes right to your pussy.

He pulls back, watching your lip stick smudged, and your eyes dilate. You can’t help but feel entranced by San, and now you’re wondering how his face would look like when he falls apart.

And it makes you excited.

San lulls you back from your thoughts when you feel his lips suck softly against your neck, and now your fingers are playing with his soft locks of hair.

He’s slightly embarrassed at the way he’s growing even harder when he gingerly peels the white shirt away. His hands cup your bare tits, and he lowers himself to your left tit, giving it a couple of hungry licks and sucks, leaving your back arching and your mouth agape from how ticklish his tongue feels as he flicks your nipple. He doesn’t neglect the other nipple, giving it the same attention as he relishes in the way you fall apart for him. When he has his fun of sucking and making sure your nipples swell while you moan and tug his hair, he pulls away.

He sits up, pulls his shirt over his head and you’re left drooling at how chiseled his body looks. San unbuttons his pants and yanks it off, alongside his boxers, and you watch with awe as his cock springs out—hard and heavy against his abdomen. Your panties are tugged off you in no time, and you don’t miss the way his cock twitches when his eyes land on your slick covered cunt.

“You’re gonna be the death of me”, you hear him mutter before he collides his lips against yours once more. You squeal when you feel his fingers press onto your clit, giving it small rubs, watching and soaking your reactions—your whines and whimpers. There is a dull buzz in your mind every time your bundle of nerves get stimulated, and it builds up in your tummy.

“Oh god, you’re getting even wetter”, he sighs, his fingers completely soaked.

“It feels good. So good. Keep doing that”, you whisper, your fingers pressing against his arm. Your moans only grow louder as San picks up the speed on rubbing your clit, and it’s sending you over the edge way quicker than you wanted to.

San lowers himself to your head, and his husky voice vibrates in your ears.

“That’s it, keep coming undone. Let your mind shut off. You look so fucking beautiful like that.”

“San, San, fuck. I’m gonna cum. Oh fuck-“

Your eyes roll back as your orgasm washes over you, your body tensing as pleasure becomes the only thing you know. You barely catch onto the dirty things San is telling you, but you know he’s encouraging you to cum on his fingers like a good girl.

He makes sure he has your orgasm drawn out as long as possible, your mind completely blown out at that point. San sucks off your arousal on his fingers, before giving his cock a few pumps.

“You taste like heaven, babe. I’ll get a taste of that cunt soon, but right now, I really can’t wait”, San huffs, trying to keep himself composed as he slowly fucks his hand.

“San, hurry up, please. I need you, so fucking bad”, you whine, your fingers pulling your wet folds open for him.

His breathing goes heavy at your words. “Damn, the shoot really got you heated,” San teases.

“I can’t help it if my photographer makes me wet”, you reply with a playful smile.

Something seems to snap in San when he hears that—all he’s thinking about is wanting to drive his cock so deep into you that your mind completely blanks out.

So that’s what he does.

San lines up his cock to your entrance and pushes and inch in. His eyes dart to your face, licking the bottom of his lip when he watches your face contort into pleasure. His hands stroke your thighs as he pushes in a couple more inches, soaking in your broken moans as he stretches you out. He forces himself to stay composed despite the fact that you’re squeezing him with your warm and soft walls.

He manages to bury himself right to the hilt and he gasps at how perfectly fitted his cock is in you, an uncontrollable moan escaping his lips when he feels you convulse around his cock.

“San, you’re so big. I’m so filled”, you whimper through glazed eyes, his cock completely cutting off other senses as your thighs tremble. A smile tugs at his lips.

“I’m gonna fuck you now, pretty”, San tells you. Despite that, he waits for your green signal before he pulls out and drives his cock right into you.

Your mind switches off the moment his cock is fucking your pussy, because that’s all that matters. It’s so good. So fucking good.

His hands slither to your wrists, and has them pinned over your head as his cock pistons into you. You swear he’s driving you to be cock dumb by the end of this, but not like you fucking minded anyway.

“Look at you. Growing stupid over my cock already. So fucking adorable.”

You only nod in reply, biting your lip as his cock continues to render you speechless. Now San has completely flooded into the smallest crooks of your mind. San has his mind blank, his eyes darting from your fucked out expression to your bouncing tits.

Your cunt flutters once again and tears are pooling at the corner of eyes. The sounds of wet skin slapping echo around the studio.

“…wanna touch you”, you mutter. Despite the face that you loved that he was holding you down, you are feeling desperate to feel his skin as you dance on the fence of your orgasm. San releases your wrists, and he props himself better as he continues to pound into you, hitting the soft, spongy spot over and over again when he has your legs folded. When his pulls out, his cock is covered in a creamy mess. His head spins and his ego inflates at the thought him being the one who drove you to this point of mind blanking pleasure.

“No, no, I’m gonna cum again. So good. San!” His name leaving your lips as a whine. Your hands are gripping onto the loose unbuttoned sleeves of your shirt. His hands take yours and places them on his on his sides, and he groans at the way you’re clawing him.

“Shit. Fuck!” San curses when you cream on his cock even more on top of your walls hugging him tightly. You let go on his cock with a pleasured sob, legs twitching.

It’s not long before a long drawn out moan San releases as his warm cum completely floods your tight hole. He swears he wants to keep his cock tucked in your pussy because it feels that fucking good.

His face—oh, his fucking face when he orgasms. You barely recover from your second orgasm to watch San fall apart while he empties in your pussy, and it almost drives you to your third orgasm. Almost.

The both of you remain still for a moment, only breathing filling in the silence. Then, San slowly pulls out, watching the way his cum leaks out of your abused hole.

San pulls back, and he realises that he’s never seen a more beautiful sight—you, splayed out in nude, only covered by a measly white shirt that inevitably drives him crazy, with cum leaking out of your pretty hole while your body twitches against the white sheets.

He thinks that it’s a pity that his camera is out of reach, because it’s such a beautiful shot.

You glance at San with a shy smile as he hands you your panties. He hooks the your legs into the panties and pulls it up to your hips. You feel another load stain your panties while your thighs twitch.

San dresses himself quickly and extends his arm for you to take as he leads you off the bed. He knows he’s got extra work to wash the sheets but that’s the least of his worries.

What throws you off is when he pulls you into his arms and kisses your temple.

“I promise I’ve never done to any of my clients”, he reiterates.

“Unprofessional”, you tease, your hands sneaking up his shirt.

“Can’t fucking help it. I never knew fucking an Angel in my studio would be this exhilarating. It makes the thought of washing the bedsheets bearable”, he teases back, letting his fingers tangle in your hair.

Your mind goes completely blank when he tells you to wash out the loads in you, so he’ll fill you up once more when he brings you home, which earns him a slap on the chest. He gestures you to go change up, watching the way you remove your shirt to reveal your bare back, and he makes a mental note to start fucking you from behind.

And back at his place, he does. His eyes are hyper focused on the way your ass bounces on his cock. A loud slap reverberates in his room followed by a whimper.

He stills in you, spilling his load once more into your abused cunt as you cream all over him once again.

Then he has you wrapped up in his arms, peppering you with kisses as you’re teetering off your high.

“Stay over, won’t you?”, San requests, tucking a lock of hair behind your ears. You’re beginning to feel completely enamoured by the male. You nod as you melt into his arms.

San thinks it’s ridiculous how hard and fast he fell for you, but he’s confident that you’re his favourite model, ever.

#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez smut #smut #ateez fic #kpop smut #choi san smut #Choi san #San ateez #ateez san #choi san ateez #ateez choi san #choi san x reader #cultofdionysusnet

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warmthsparked · 2 years

Text

tag drop //

ooc / how many things do you think about

wardrobe / took my bare feet down to the river

visuals / just a key without a home

musings / you can’t break my strength with all this love

threads / falling asleep on the phone

edits / diamond in the rough

aesthetic / what’s a bird without its wings

crushes / i can’t help it it’s a habit

wishlist / i consider you when i’m not trying to

memes / round and round and honey i can tell it’s just a carousel

study / finding beauty in the pain

starters & starter calls / taking all my words back so long

#ooc / how many things do you think about #study / finding beauty in the pain #memes / round and round and honey i can tell it’s just a carousel #aesthetic / what’s a bird without its wings #musings / you can’t break my strength with all this love #wishlist / i consider you when i’m not trying to #edits / diamond in the rough #crushes / i can’t help it it’s a habit #wardrobe / took my bare feet down to the river #threads / falling asleep on the phone #visuals / just a key without a home #starters & starter calls / taking all my words back so long

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readychilledwine · 14 days

Text

Odd One Out pt 2

Summary - After 500 years of friendship, the last thing you ever expected was the Inner Circle to miss one of your symphonies. But you know what they say, time changes people.

Warnings - 10 year time jump, groveling, Fluff, reader forgives Azriel, loosely edited (Liz will fix and check for mistakes she and her friend missed with fresh eyes 💕)

A/N - forgive the name picked for Kal and Vivienne's daughter. So many of you are playing with Disney princess themes I couldn't shake it.

Odd One Out pt 1

✨️ Azriel Masterlist ✨️ Master Masterlist ✨️

Dawn was beautiful. In the past 10 years, as you had toured the Realm performing, you had realized that quickly. Every court always brought you back to Dawn. Every High Lord brought you back to Thesan. Thesan had allowed you to build home here, welcoming you and your talent with open arms, and tonight was a true testimony of his love for you and your music as he paid you a high honor.

Thesan had spent the day hosting the quarterly High Lord's Meeting, and tonight, his gift of relaxation to the other High Lords was you, your orchestra, and a night of candle lit music, champagne, and food.

You smoothed out the dress Thesan had commissioned for you tonight. An off the shoulder tulle number with long sleeves. It was soft and buttery, flowing with every step. The top hugged you perfectly, and two long slits sat on each leg, exposing them and the heels you were wearing. The fabric was a soft white color, a stark opposite to your conducting gowns in the Night Court. Jewels were sewn into the fabric, dripping down your body like you had been wrapped and bathed in starlight. The only sign of your home was that star-like glow and the earrings Azriel had bought you many years ago. The rough diamonds set in rose gold had backs that dropped on delicate chains with another diamond sitting at the bottom. “something delicate for my gentle girl,” he had whispered that sentence to you, letting it sink into your skin and mind.

How odd it truly felt to compare that moment to when Azriel sat there in silence as Elain lashed out against all you had built, all your hard work, studying, you're very being.

You took a deep breath, silencing your nerves as the theater went quiet. Dinner had been served, drinks flowing left and right, and now it was time. You watched as you musicians took their places, sitting and preparing themselves as well. Most had followed you from Night, and last you tragically heard, the Rainbow had grown silent in your absence. The new musicians ranged from every court, every walk of life. You smiled fondly at what you had remade, at their outfits so finely crafted of black fabric and silks.

Thesan took the stage next, doing something Rhysand never had, “High Lords and Ladies, faithful emissaries, friends. After a long day of tense negotiations, words said in anger and frustration, and Rhysand's horrible father jokes,” a loud “hey” came from the audience making you laugh softly, “I could not think of a more enchanting way to end our night. A decade ago, a talented female came to me, offering to exchange a week of shelter and security for her playing music nightly for my court.”

Thesan looked so softly towards you, “An offer many of you would go in to receive as well as she traveled our lands studying our music and history. Her talent had touched my fae and myself so deeply that when the time for her to make a home base came, I was honored when she approached me and built this theater to her exact wants and needs.”

He continued after a long breath, “Tonight is her first performance and opening night. I felt it would be wrong for anyone besides all of us to see her newest pieces first. Pieces inspired by every court, by all of our stories, of our fae’s stories. She wrote a collection of 7 songs, for us, about us.”

Silence refell over the room, a quiet appreciation for what they were about to see. “Without further ado, y/n.”

Clapping began as the faelights turned off, and candles took their place, glowing and reflecting off your gown. You bowed gracefully before turning and raising your hands as soon as Thesan took his seat. You began the concert in Tamlin's court, playing a piece inspired by his own love of music and the sounds of a spring storm. The music rose before a gentle fall where everything became more gentle as if it was quiet after a hard rain. You couldn't see as Briar took his hand at the swell, the soft moment where the violin went from the jig of a fiddle to the formality was a reflection of the moment Tamlin's dreams were lost to him, but new dreams began.

Summer was a symphony to the magic of bioluminescence. The sound was heavily inspired by the night of laughter and fun you had watched Varian and Amren enjoy. It had been the ancient female's first time seeing the ocean turn to waves of stars, and Varian had hired you to play for them that night. She cried as a familiar harp solo came, one that she had turned to Varian on one knee as you played it.

Autumn was the sound of battle and passion. Eris's rise as high lord was captured in every note, every building drum. The high lord openly smiled during the peak. The moment where drums of war faded to the sounds of peace. The sound of peace after war was shown through a soft wood flute playing. An instrument that was born in Autumn's halls.

Winter had been the most unique to compose. Kallias and Vivienne's story was so well known, but their daughter, their darling Elsa, the 10 year old princess, was an unknown and protected factor. You took a deep breath before beginning this piece and looked to the white-haired girl, “For you,” you said softly to her bright grin. Elsa had written on sheet music for you during your stay there, lyrics to accompany the notes on your page, you held out your hand, welcoming your only singer for the night. The song was a desperate plea, a singer begging to be noticed for who she was, for her talent to be noticed before her beauty. You had picked the singer based on how young and fragile her voice sounded, the way it truly felt like a cry as she begged to be looked at for who she was.

Dawn's turn came and the music felt like taking flight, it encompassed the thrill of the air, of an early morning sunrise adventure. The piece left you breathless due to the amount of movements it took. It was intricately layered and as lively as Thesan's court while maintaining an air of class.

The Day Court was music of love and sex. Tender moments mixed with playful notes and chords that screamed sensuality. The tone was overall seduction, but moments of tenderness came through as well. It was a tribute to the biggest flirt you knew. The biggest flirt who became the most faithful husband.

You were left with one court. You turned to begin your thank you and took a deep breath, “Over the past several years, you all have welcomed me into your courts and homes with open arms. You allowed me to study the music of your homes, your culture, and learn to play them to perfection. For that, I will always be grateful and so humbled by the generosity and kindness shown to me.”

You took a deep breath, stilling the last of your nerves. “My story begins in Night, though. My childhood began a long friendship between myself and someone who pushed me towards my dreams. This last song is dedicated to him.”

Azriel heard as Rhysand held his breath. He watched as his brother laced his fingers with Feyre. Feyre began to cry immediately. Of all the songs you composed, this one held the most strings, a clear call to Rhysand and your humble beginnings in the streets of the Rainbow playing. Azriel watched you in awe.

You turned and a voice you had heard countless times played through magic. It was the moment they had met and a soft purr of, “There you are. I've been looking for you," echoed before the music began.

10 years, 10 years without even so much as a whisper or note. He watched you move with grace, watched as a violin sang softly. The tune was a call to the Inner Circle, and before Azriel could stop them, his shadows began to dance.

Every movement of your arms and body was like watching liquid starlight sparkle and gleam to the fantasy inducing tune you had created. As your hands fell to indicate the end, Azriel felt his heart stopping.

It was the bond that drew him to you.

It was the years of friendship, of quiet nights listening to you play for just him, or long hours with you hands over his, so soft and warm, teaching him to play piano.

It was the fact that he was in love with you. And he realized he had been for a very long time.

Kind, talented, beautiful, you.

He watched as you wiped a few quick tears as you and Rhysand held eye contact. He felt his breath hitch as you bowed during your queue before walking out.

The orchestra played a familiar tune as everyone stood to leave and feyre began to cry. You had played this song during Feyre's first Starfall, hoping the romantic tune would have been enough to make the high lord and his mate kiss. It became a song they begged you to play every second they could. Rhysand held Feyre while looking at Azriel.

“Get. Her. Back.”

You did not attend the after party. Seeing the Inner Circle had been too much. You had hoped that after all these years, that pain would be gone. You leaned against your balcony, humming a new tune you wanted to write. A shadow caressed your skin as you moved inside and sat at your harp. “I know you want me to play your song.” The shadow swirled and began to dance as you plucked the taunt strings.

“You spoil them.” Your breath hitched at that familiar voice. “Don't stop,” Azriel sat down in the corner of the room. “They've missed dancing for you.”

You let out a shaking breath and began again, watching with a soft smile as the shadows weaved and played. The sight always memorized you. They always memorized you. These beautiful shadows were more like children than darkness. Each had a personality, a voice, a preference in instrument. You finished and lowered your hands.

“Elain is probably wondering where you are.”

Azriel rose a brow, “Elain and Lucien are on their honeymoon, sailing the world.”

You knit your brows. “I'm sorry. I know you loved her.”

“Not the way I love you.” Silence fell over the room, “I have loved you for so long and been blind to it. I will never get back the time I wasted in my stupidity. I will never be able to take back the hurt Elain caused you.”

You went to open your mouth and speak, “No. I want you just to listen to me, y/n.” You nodded and looked at him. “I love you,” he stated it like a finality. “The bond snapped for me the night you left, but in your absence, I have realized I loved you long before that blessing and that I would love you long after.”

He paused and continued, “I was silent when Elain spoke to you because I was in shock, but that isn't a good enough excuse. She hurt you, and I stayed silent. I will never forgive myself for that, so I do not expect you to. I'm not even worthy of asking you for a chance to make things right, but I am here as a desperate male. A male who wants nothing more than his mate, his love.”

“Azriel-”

“Listen,” he moved to you, getting in his knees before you and taking you hands in his. He placed one on his face and smiled. “I dream of this gentle hands, of the joy they bring. I dream of you. Of your love and light. Your heart. When I sleep, I pretend I can hear your heart dancing for me, luring me like a siren spell.”

Your bottom lip trembled and a tear fell, his love for you poured down that neglected bond, warming every inch of your being. “Azriel..”

“Y/n, I am so sorry I wasted so much of your time, of our time.”

You threw your arms around him, holding him tight as he continued. “I beg you to allow me to try to make this right. To show you how special you are to me, to our home, to our family. I am begging you for just a chance.”

His words left like a healing and soothing balm on unseen wounds. “Our family is at a party just below you. Waiting for me to either come back with you or to mourn the loss of you forever. Tell me what I am doing. If I have failed us.”

The party was in full swing as Rhysand watched Nyx and Feyre dance. He held his empty whiskey glass, debating on another one when perfectly manicured hands grabbed his empty glass and placed a full one in his grasp. He grabbed that soft hand instantly, “y/n darling.”

“Rhysand,” He turned and kissed your palm, violet eyes on yours. You continued the greeting softly. “Your presence makes my mind sing the most beautiful song.”

Rhysand held back tears as he answered, “And my heart longs to hear you play it.” He nuzzled your hand. “Come home to us.”

You sighed happily as Azriel rested his hand on your back, “I believe we can negotiate that."

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universestreasures · 1 year

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👑 The Abyssal King & The Silver Queen 👑

Selective, Private Ren Suzugamori and Asaka Narumi Of Cardfight Vanguard Loved By: Crix & Rarity

👑Ren Suzugamori ( @blasterdiablo , Side To @abysseeker ) 👑

👑Asaka Narumi ( @universestreasures )👑

#💎 Diamonds In The Rough (Promo)#💎 Dottr Creations (Mun Edits)#blasterdiablo #universestreasures #(ICB I HAVNT DONE AN ASAREN PROMO FOR ME AND CRIXS REN SO YOU KNOW WHAT WE FIXING THAT #(TRIED A DIFF STYLE WITH THIS ONE MIXING GIFS AND SIMPLE AESTHETICS #(I THINK I LIKE IT #(ANYWAY CRIX IS AMAZING GO FOLLOW HER AND HER SHADOW PALADIN SPACE CADET!

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sunshinescribes · 8 months

Text

The House Always Wins

Part 2 of this fic

Pairing: Sir Crocodile x Fem!Reader

Rating: EXPLICIT (18+)

Warnings: Possessive Behavior, Jealousy, Rough Sex, Cunnilingus, (lowkey) Sugar Daddy Crocodile, Crocodile is smug and petty

(edit: realized the original artwork was fanart and I couldn't find the artist's @ to credit them, so I changed it)

Crocodile doesn’t know what to expect when he wanders onto the casino floor of Rain Dinners in search of you. Slot machines chime, playing a catchy little tune with each pull of the lever. Dealers grin and offer words of encouragement, coaxing big-eyed fools into another game with the sweet promise of lady luck’s favor.

You don’t usually partake in gambling, not keen on the idea of betting away your berries when you know it’s all rigged—and why would you even need to? You never ask for anything, but Crocodile provides. Spoils you even.

He enjoys watching the way your eyes get all big, stunned by the diamond necklace he places around your neck, or the soft gasp that passes your lips when he gifts silk charmeuse and chiffon dresses, designed, and tailored just for you.

Crocodile continues to seek you out, his sharp eyes flitting between the slot machines and card tables. He ignores the curious and lingering looks targeted at him—the smartly dressed patrons who vie for his attention as he continues to search—and then he hears it.

Your laugh, loud and beautiful—music to his fucking ears. He turns.

Crocodile doesn’t expect to see you at the bar, perched on a stool, leaning into a man he doesn’t recognize. Your hand is on his slender arm, your lips pulled into a pretty smile, and laughter escapes again—so lovely and genuine and for someone else.

The man grins at you sheepishly, transfixed on your mouth. It’s so blatant—barely contained, the way he’s staring at you with a mix of adoration and lust.

You must feel Crocodile’s eyes on you because you glance over your shoulder suddenly. Your smile widens, and you exchange a quick word with the mysterious man before hopping down from your seat.

Crocodile is silent as you approach, stone-faced. You grab his arm with both hands and tilt your head towards the man, all while smiling up at him.

“I want you to meet my friend,” you say excitedly, steering him towards the bar.

Crocodile doesn’t catch the name that rolls off your tongue—he can’t seem to hear anything over the sudden ringing in his ears, so sharp it drowns out the sounds of the jingling slot machines and triumphant cheers of those foolish enough to think they’re the winners.

The fond smile that plays on the mystery man’s lip never falls, but Crocodile notices the sudden unease as the man’s eyes land on him. The imposing height, the cold, almost irritated expression he comfortably wears—the golden hook that glints under the blinding casino lights. It’s enough to strike fear in the heart of anyone smart enough to value their life.

And the man is a small thing—average in every sense of the word, Crocodile thinks. The plain clothes, the nervous, uncertain words that stumble from his mouth as he tries to introduce himself. Crocodile doesn’t feign interest—he barely even acknowledges your friend, and that only serves to add to his anxiety.

If it wasn’t for the pitiful look you shoot him, Crocodile would laugh at just how pathetic this man is.

“We both grew up in Coombe,” you explain, glancing back at the mystery man. “I never thought you’d leave the North Blue.”

He must take your surprise as a compliment because he gives you another bashful smile.

“I didn’t either. Guess I finally figured if you could do it, so could I,” he chuckles softly. “Imagine my shock when I saw you here, of all places.”

“Small world,” Crocodile chimes in dryly, drawing your friend’s attention once more.

Crocodile places a hand on your hip, drawing you a little closer to him.“She never mentions much about her home in the North Blue.”

And she never mentioned you. The insult is unspoken, so subtle that he thinks even you don’t catch it.

But it’s also true. You rarely spoke about the North Blue—of the life you had before you entered the Grand Line and ended up in Alabasta. You never mused over an island you once called home, or a lovesick, hairbrained boy you left on it, and Crocodile doesn’t pry. He isn’t particularly interested in knowing, truth be told. He only cares about the life you have now, with him.

The man goes on an excited tirade about how beautiful Coombe is this time of year, about how you used to love the new bloom after winter finally passed, and all the fun you both had in your youth. He can’t help but reminisce, tries to connect with you in the only way he’s able.

“You should visit when you can. Uh—you both should.”

You pretend to consider it, and Crocodile gives little more than an unaffected grunt.

You inquire how long he’ll be staying and recommend shops and restaurants he must visit before leaving. He shamelessly seeks more of your company—your attention—and asks if you could possibly give him a tour.

You promise to check your schedule and follow up, and he beams as if he’s won an invaluable prize. Crocodile’s irritation grows—twists and festers the longer he stands by your side, little more than an onlooker. His frustration isn’t directed at you—you’ve always been friendly, offering a smile where he would surely offer a sneer, but it doesn’t stop his grip from tightening on your hip.

You notice, finally excusing yourself. The man gives you both a soft goodbye, one that Crocodile ignores completely as he whisks you away, and he can’t help the way his lips pull into a smug grin at the quick glimpse of the dejected look on his face. It must hurt him to see you walk away in the arms of another—to know the golden opportunity he thought the world had provided him never existed at all.

“You didn’t like him.”

It’s the first thing you say when you enter Crocodile’s private suite, disappointment dripping in your voice. You weren’t foolish enough to think he would be thrilled, but you thought Crocodile would at least be amicable.

He shrugs his coat off, placing it on the coat hanger near the door. “He was shameless.”

Your brows furrow, your lips pull into a slight frown…You don’t know? It takes Crocodile by surprise; surely you must. The man is far too obvious; his intentions are impossible to mask.

“He would have taken you right there on the bar if you had let him,” Crocodile scoffs.

You blink, dumbfounded.

“Gage?”

So that’s his name.

Your voice comes out in a high-pitched squeak, taken aback by the sudden accusation. “He doesn’t want to fuck me.”

Crocodile gives a mirthless laugh. You’re so sweet. So naïve. Always offering others the benefit of the doubt.

Crocodile recognized the hunger in his eyes—the longing. He suspects this friend of yours has harped on you for a long time, never quite brave enough to take the chance.

Not even now. By some miracle, he survived the Grand Line, and he still can’t brave his own futile emotions. Crocodile isn’t sure whether to laugh at how spineless the man is or burn with anger at how he even thinks he has any chance of having you.

The dark, ravenous part of him takes high offense.

Crocodile comes up behind you and dwarfs you with his body as his decorated hand cradles your jaw. “Course he does. Look at you.”

He tilts your head, forces you to face the full-length mirror on the opposite wall. You try to focus on your own reflection, but you can’t help but watch Crocodile when he dips down, pressing a tender kiss to your neck, all while his half-lidded eyes hold your gaze.

“Maybe I should invite him to our room so he can watch me fuck you,” he murmurs against your skin.

You shiver, nearly stumble out of his grasp as his lips trail higher.

“Don’t be cruel...”

Cruel? His offer would be courteous. It would be the closest your lovestruck friend would ever get to your naked form. The only way he would ever know what you sound and look like at the height of your pleasure—how perfect you are, stuffed and babbling through your orgasm.

The cruel thing would be what he truly wants to do—to use his devil fruit powers to turn the man into a withering corpse, forgotten in the endless sand dunes.

“Would you rather he joined?” Crocodile inquiries plainly.

He attempts to come off unaffected…curious, but the wicked voice in the back of his mind nags at him, hisses about feelings that could have been, and still may be.

The man matches your gentle nature, and is somewhat competent, at least to have made it this far from the North Blue. He’s the kind of man who would kneel at your feet if you asked, worship you as if it were his sole purpose—he’d give you a typical life, picturesque in its simplicity, and you would be content.

The thought makes something vicious twist in his gut. It makes time stand still as Crocodile awaits your answer.

“No.” You shake your head softly, meeting his cold eyes in the mirror. “I’ve never thought about him like…that.”

Of course not. What would you want with a sniveling worm? How could you go back to mediocrity after everything that’s been offered to you? The attention of a warlord of the sea—the savior of Alabasta. How could anyone else ever compare?

It’s pathetic how the gluttonous beast inside of Crocodile settles and hums contentedly, knowing that you only want him.

And maybe this is your power he couldn’t recognize before, why he was so unnerved in the beginning—this ability to effortlessly turn sensible men foolish. Even him.

“Only want you.” You turn, your soft eyes trained on him. “Always want you.”

Crocodile captures your lips as the words escape, and you melt into him—mold your body into his until he is all you sense. The heady scent of his sweet cigars mixes with hints of patchouli and cedar—his cologne—it lingers on his fitted clothes, drawing you deeper into his searing kiss.

You feel the bend of his golden hook press into the curve of your back, forcing you to curl into him as he parts your lips with his tongue. You’re caught in a pleasant haze, lightheaded, while Crocodile kisses you like he’s claiming your mouth, making sure that your lips never forget the feel and taste of him—that they never desire another’s.

Crocodile lifts you from the ground effortlessly with his ringed hand, still kissing you hungrily as he shifts blindly through his suite, knowing the layout well enough to stumble into his lavish bedroom. He parts from you with a low groan.

“Lay down,” he orders against your lips, and you comply, sinking into the soft mattress while he looms over you.

The ache you feel in your core blossoms—hurts so good from how desperately you want him—to be wrecked and teary-eyed and a mess for him.

You even go as far as to whine when you notice Crocodile isn’t working to free the fierce erection that strains his dress pants, eager to be lost in your warmth.

“None of that,” Crocodile tuts coyly, lowering to his knees near the foot of the bed. His large hand skims up the length of your thigh, pushing up your dress until it is bunched around your waist, and he can see the evidence of your arousal staining your thin lingerie—another gift.

That creature inside of him purrs gleefully, proud of how well he turns you into a spectacle—a gift of his own to admire and unravel again and again.

Crocodile tugs your panties down your legs, tossing it aside carelessly as his hooded eyes catch on your bare pussy, already slick and ready for him. A deep, guttural noise catches in his throat as you part your legs—eagerly welcome him where he belongs.

“I bet he wonders what you taste like…” Crocodile muses, leaning into your aching slit. A soft gasp passes your lips when you feel the heat of his mouth on your needy cunt, tending to the ache his salacious words and desperate kisses created.

There are rare moments when Crocodile takes you apart slowly, his movements languid and measured, bringing you to the height of your pleasure at an agonizing pace, only to rip it away just when you begin to tip over the edge. And then he continues the process again and again. He leaves you delirious on days like that, wasting the hours away with your body—and perhaps today would be a day such as that if he didn’t feel he had something to prove.

If the desire to plague your every thought didn’t control him like a cruel master.

Your soft whimpers turn to shameless, needy moans, light and airy but loud enough to satisfy the wicked parts of him.

“S’good,” you whine drunkenly, your hips bucking instinctively when Crocodile’s lips latch onto your neglected clit. Your fingers thread into his long hair, pull him even closer, and he groans—it makes you arch painfully as the feel of it cascades through your body and tickles your aching nub.

Each swipe of his talented tongue pushes you closer, making the heat that pools in your stomach metastasize until you’re chanting his name, so close and ready to reward him.

He squeezes your clit with his mouth, sucks your aching bud, and you’re gone—shoved over the edge as pure hot pleasure rips through you, flows from between your legs, and Crocodile laps up your sweetness like a starved man.

You glance down at him through your lashes, eyes heavy, body slowly recovering. Crocodile pulls away from your pretty pussy with a sigh, as if he’s sad to part, and the idea alone makes your core ache with newfound need.

“Always so sweet for me.”

Your release smears his chin. It makes him look depraved and delicious. If you had the energy for it, you’d lift from your spot on the bed and kiss him. Feel the taste of yourself on his tongue, but all you can do is watch him with tired eyes as he rids himself of his clothes, tosses his lavish vest and dress shirt aside haphazardly.

His pants are the last thing to go, and you watched as if caught in a spell, buzzing with anticipation as he palms his hard dick. It’s so pretty, with the tip blushing and spilling precum that glides onto his thick fingers. Crocodile smirks, amused by the enchanted look in your eyes.

“This what you want, darling?” he asks, giving his dick a rough tug that warrants a delighted hiss. You nod—nearly sob—as you continue to watch Crocodile’s hand rub up and down the length of his lovely cock. You feel so empty—the desire to be filled in a way only he’s capable of taking precedence in your mind.

“Tell me,” Crocodile encourages as he shifts to the bed, his large frame casting you in shadows as he hovers over you. That smug smile still plays at his lips and only grows crueler as he grinds his hard length against your needy cunt.

“N-need you. Fuck—need you so—so bad. Baby please—”

The request sounds pathetic, even to your own ears, but it must be exactly what Crocodile wants to hear because he sinks into you the second the term of endearment passes your lips.

A deep grunt rips from his throat and tickles your ear pleasantly as Crocodile drags his fat cock deeper into you. You’re so warm and wet and snug, your velvety walls hugging him like this is where he belongs—where he should always be.

And he’ll admit, there’s no better place than here, between your legs. No better feeling in the whole fucking world—not even the sweet giddiness that builds inside of him each passing day as the fall of the Alabasta Kingdom draws closer. Having you writhing beneath him, breathless and lovely, is incomparable—a sensation he never tires of.

“Always take me so—mmm…well,” Crocodile rasps, transfixed on how your sloppy cunt swallows him over and over and over again. It makes him fuck you harder; drive even deeper. “This pussy was made for me. You were made for me.”

And he thinks perhaps it’s the most honest thing he’s ever said to you. Uncertainty still stirs within him—dread lingers in the corner of his mind, silent and waiting, because you complicate everything. You’re the only person who can placate the ravenous creature within him, feeding its insatiable appetite without it ever growing incurious. It wants everything you have to offer—can’t conceive of feeding from anyone who isn’t you. Not anymore.

Never.

Crocodile pushes your thighs close to your chest, drives his dick even deeper as he continues to pound into you. The sound of his powerful thrusts and your tortured moans is a beautiful symphony, lovelier than the melodic sounds of the stirring sand at dawn.

You have that lost, blissed-out look in your eyes as you blink up at him, words completely evading you as he uses you.

How could your foolish friend ever even dream of having you like this? Think he could possibly do to you what Crocodile has done?

Crocodile feels equally as hopeless as you—is incapable of thinking clearly because a confession he knows he should swallow pours from his lips without warning.

“I’ll fucking kill anyone who tries to take you from me,” he growls, digging the tip of his hook into the mattress, inches away from your head.

You should be…shocked. Unnerved by such a confession. Crocodile doesn’t pretend to be a saint, but he never mutters his murderous intent. He hides behind practiced indifference; let’s others paint a glorious picture of him, never revealing his true nature. You attempt to feign shock for a split second, but you can’t help the way your pussy clenches around him and goes mad at his declaration—some depraved, feral part of you stirring to life.

And the knowledge that a part of you likes this fucked up part of him must awaken something in him, because his thrusts grow brutal, his balls slap against your ass as he fucks you into the mattress like it’s the last time he’ll ever get the chance to. Crocodile hits deeper, the head of his throbbing dick brushing against that sweet, spongey spot inside of you, and you’re gone before you can even warn him.

You choke out something that sounds like it could be his name, tears trickling down your cheeks as you come so violently that your breath stutters. You shake through your orgasm, squirm beneath Crocodile while he fucks you through it—watching you come apart with wicked fascination and unbridled lust.

He loves how he wrecks you—how you hold onto him for dear life, as if he might slip away.

He’s ruined you, just like you’ve ruined him.

The thought alone is the final push he needs, make his dick throb violently as he explodes inside of you and fills you up the way he knows you crave—the way your perfect pussy deserves. The squelch of his seed mixing with your sweetness is enough to drive him mad. Makes him want to fuck another load into you.

Maybe in a bit, he considers as he rocks his hips sluggishly, riding out the sweet aftershock of his powerful orgasm.

You’re little more than a quivering mess under him. Your eyes are closed, your breathing is ragged…so so beautiful, and Crocodile doesn’t frighten at the tender feeling that blossoms in his chest—a sudden warmth that takes him by surprise yet seems to make all the sense in the world as he stares down at you, all while a pleasant thought crosses his twisted mind.

What’s the harm?

Why shouldn’t I revel in what’s mine?

divider credit @/cafekitsune

#sunny.fic #sir crocodile x reader #sir crocodile x y/n #crocodile x reader #crocodile x you #sir crocodile smut #x reader

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thatdeadaquarius · 1 year

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sagau with the language barrier issue except... the creator is sick and tired of trying to ask for things so they do everything themself.

and it gives their followers mass anxiety bc they can't even ask what you're doing... bc they know they won't understand anything...

SUCH A GENIUS NARVI 10/10 GOOD WORK SORRY IM SUPER LATE BUT THIS IS *chefs kiss*

Like, that's literally how I feel like I first played Genshin LMAO

Also this has a cont. Part 2 at the bottom bc tumblr fucking hates me UPDATE I FIXED IT THANK FUCK

Paimon was like "and then we go to Mondstadt- ! NO, not Wolvendom, to Mondstadt! NOT THE THOUSAND WIND TEMPLE WITH ENEMIES OUT OF UR LEAGUE, ENTER MONDSTADT FOR THE FIRST TIME BEFORE U EXPLORE THE REST OF THE MAP!! >:("

SO MANY IDEAS YET SO LITTLE WRITING SKILL GUYS HELP-

Also warning this is ROUGH in terms of spelling and editing and im so sorry abt that! I have my art show today so you're welcome to come back if you want to see it a little more readable tomorrow lmao

Edit Update 4/6/23:

Revised and fixed all the bad spelling and grammar (hopefully) so make sure to give another read if you havent read the cleaned up version lol

I dont have a beta reader so its just me trying my best ok-

Everything was like kinda chaos tbh at first

WOW- MY FIRST 1,000+ NOTES POST??!?! U GUYS, WHAT ARE R YOU DOIN??!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH!! IM GLAD U GUYS ENJOYED IT SM!! Also look out for more encoded stuff in the future since i mentioned wanting to continue stuff like this + ARG stuff :) <3

Edit 9/7/23: 2,000+ NOTES?? THANK YOU???

Like u wake up under the Irminsul, and u think ur hallucinating a goddamn gacha game for like a solid 5 minutes, or ur lucid dreaming,

but once u actually took what felt like hours to process that u might actually be in fucking Genshin Impact-

Nahida came running from, somewhere?? Its kinda just very floaty dreamy in here so, unclear, she’s beaming with a giddy little smile (💘)

It’s… so much more than what her game model could manage.

I mean, you knew that, of course you did, but- to see the tiny goddess smiling in person, her cute chubby arms waving in the air, her cheeks all plump with baby fat from her excited smile, pretty green eyes that sparkle only in the way excited toddlers do-

It was just…wow. 🥺

You can’t help it, her sheer carefree excitement, exactly like a child but you know that she must be really overwhelmed with joy if shes letting herself act like that so blatantly, you feel ur muscles tug gently into a smile, you try to muffle it but ur happiness leaks out anyway

She's panting as she stumbles on short chubby legs to reach you.

After just staring at you with those big green clover eyes for a few seconds, she physically shakes her head to knock herself out of it,

Nahida places her hand over her heart, and bows elegantly, going back to looking at you with a small but bright smile, her voice is kind of quiet, muffled in a soft way, much like her game depiction,

“Hzozn! R'ev yvvm dzrgrmt gl nvvg blf! R wrwm'g gsrmp blf dlfow wvhxvmw fmgro R dzh zg ovzhg z uvd gslfhzmw bvzih low!” *

…Nahida begins to look a little concerned… her eyes get impossibly bigger.

…Oh no.

♧

Nahida had apparently quickly spread the news that you can’t understand them, but luckily it seems like all the characters still know you!

Alhaitham is pretty much a constant by your side, you knew he was vaguely studying linguistics in the akademiya… but that knowledge still didn’t prepare you to be intensely stared at with his diamond pupils for hours. 💀

Then he’d tap your shoulder or something, and you quickly picked up that he wanted you to just try and say something.

Then he would scribble for hours.

Turns out they can understand you about as much as you understand Teyvat language (s? You can’t even tell if there are multiple languages, that’s how unrecognizable this language is, damn)

The more extroverted or friendly people, like Venti, Yoimiya, Kazuha, Jean, Noelle, Amber, Xingqiu, Hu Tao, Zhongli, Ganyu, Barbara, Beidou, Collei, Ayaka, Gorou, Nilou

At least attempt to talk to you, and try very hard to watch what you gesture with your hands or body language

They're pretty much ready to play charades at all times for you lol

Interestingly enough, they only ever understood you when you typed in the chat (with other ppl)

But even then not immediately,

Sumeru scholars basically had to make a whole new department (regardless of how much you play with others) to decipher your ancient language (to them) like those old clay tablets with cuneiform we’re still translating?

Like that, your words appear in elemental magic heavy places (so like that abyss lang. It’ll appear on walls or structures, so like Andrius’ stone colosseum? in Wolvendom gained some of your chat replies inscribed and glowing a rainbow of colors on the top edges of the walls)

Much like the abyss language you see throughout genshin, most Teyvat scholars (across nations/internationally) agreed your language is the oldest form of language known!

It’s like modern languages having roots in older ones, like English with Latin, greek, or German roots, or Sanskrit and the Prakrit for Hindi language today

…so of course no one really speaks the root languages anymore, because they’re so old, so those ancestors who spoke those languages would have little to no understanding of their modern counterparts…

◇

Occasionally if you turned your mic on for whatever reason there would be a gentle whisper on the winds in Mondstadt of your voice,

or your laugh in the waves washing ashore in Inazuma and Fontaine,

your startled noises or screams from battling bosses mixed with the landslides in the mountains of Liyue

So they know what you sound like, but that doesn’t mean they understood your language :/

Nahida had been hoping that you’re actual physical form being here would help improve the language barrier

But unfortunately, those things remained the same, but at least you were physically here to talk to now and give more content for the scholars to study rather than them having to make do with your snippets of language from chats

…so needless to say, it took you a long time to realize they viewed you as a god of sorts.

You kind of knew something was up when at least two allogenes were by your sides at all times, or eremites would replace them if they really couldn’t stick around

You figured they knew you weren’t nearly as combatant-ready as they were at all times, hell you obviously didn’t have a vision hanging off you somewhere, and you only really had a knife strapped to a belt, courtesy of the Thirty Corps

You are still kind of convinced that the people of Teyvat, or Sumeru at least, are just pretty polite (and in the allogenes case, very kind or friendly, even people like Alhaitham or Cyno, resting bitch faces they have, seem to soften a little when they’re walking around with you… maybe you’re just imagining it…)

And as much as you would love to wait until they understand you to do something more fun, as you can see the frustration on Tighnari’s face (and his ears try to flatten back hehe) as he looked like he was debating heatedly with some of the Sumeru sages who insist you stay in the city

…so why not go?

It’s not like they’re going to get it anytime soon, and it’s still too frustrating for yourself to charade things or draw things for them because you can’t even hear their guesses 💀

You can totally handle being like the traveler too,

You still have access to your inventory afterall! Plus, lucky for you, you still find a pass for the Serenitea Pot in your little pocket dimension!

So now you have somewhere to sleep at night, and while most of your stuff went to the traveler’s pack, the things like Primogems

(which.. Okay now you really want primogems bc theyre so pretty and shiny irl)✨️

And other high-level things, or just objects of no use for the traveler (so basically all your hoarded level up stuff and infinite amount of weapons lol) came along with you

So you did have to wander the first week or so around the city and even commission the Adventurer’s Guild to grab you food supplies to cook with

Filling up, along with a few big waterskins, you’re off!

...and everyone collectively has a heart attack!

◇

When you show up in Ghandaraville essentially all “✨️💖☺️✨️” on Tighnari’s doorstep-

He chokes on the tea he’d been sipping on before he opened the door lol

He looks a little frazzled so you try to just gesture with “calm yourself small animal” energy with your hands

“Tivzgvhg Oliw! R'n- R- sld wrw blf-?! Mvevinrmw, xlnv rm, xlnv rm, ivhg! ...R mvvw gl hvmw z nroorlm ovggvih mld gl ylgs gsv vmgriv xrgb lu Hfnvif, gsv Zxgrmt Tizmw Hztv, zmw gsv Nzgiz nlhg orpvob…” he began out looking at you and talking and gesturing to his small dining table (the game sucks, his house looks great and has lots of cool rooms filled with interesting plants… oooo…so pretty...)

But then he kinda just devolved into rambling, no need to understand, you can read the vibes and just know that's what he's doing lol

Collei eventually ducks in, and she looks a little panicked?

She’s quickly followed by Cyno, pushing past her to call out into the house,

His voice seems hard and stressed, looking at Tighnari, “Grtsmzir, szev blf hvvm gsv Tivzgvhg Oliw zmbdsviv, gsvb dviv hvvm xlnrmt gl Tszmwziezeroov ozhg-”

Cyno stops and blinks.

Collei’s mouth is slightly dropped open, she also just, blinks.

You blink.

Tighnari blinks tiredly, he looks like he’d rather be done for the day, you think.

The doctor sighs, and moves his head to nod towards the other dining seats.

◇

Sumeru foods are so much better looking in real life, and they’re so good too, your practically bloated by the end of dinner,

As a thank you, bc u cant say it obv, you just gesture for Tighnari to stay sitting, and he gives you a raised eyebrow and a suspicious ear twitch

But stays still, and you reach out to finally hit the eight-pointed star hovering over his, and all playable characters chests at all times.

Like you suspected, it brings up a holographic character menu, but rather than his full model, it kind of hovers in front of Tighnari’s face, replacing his old 3D model self with framing the real thing for a portrait just in front of his face

The poor Denro user nearly jumps a foot out of his chair as he looks in shock at your screen, you do the same “chillll boy” gesture with your hands and press his shoulders for a second to remind him to not run off or panic

Cyno and Collei had done the dishes and put up leftovers, and are now standing behind Tighnari, watching with equally wide eyes,

“...Dszg ziv gsvb wlrmt gl blf?

Cyno’s voice is even deeper and quieter than usual, you feel goosebumps run up your spine

“Ziv blf tvggrmt yovhhvw, Nzhgvi Grtsmzir?!” Collei’s sweet voice is also hushed like she’s witnessing something sacred, Tighnari gently shakes his head negatively in response, his shoulders shrugging,

“Nzbyv? R uvvo... z orggov hgilmtvi, zmw nb Erhrlm rh zxgrmt fk zh dvoo…”

Though he’s replying, Tighnari’s eyes haven’t once left your ancient magic? technology device? hovering in front of him,

and as he crosses his arms and squints to try and look closer at everything floating in front of him, you can see the childlike gleam of awe in his green eyes, (so cute) in fact, now that you glance up and look, both Collei and Cyno have the same quietly excited and fascinated sparkle in their eyes too

With a displeased sneer, you chuck his old level one bow into the material grinding spots, hope he wasn’t attached to that…

Oh well, he’ll like the new one better, afterall, with no characters, all your best weapons and artifacts are ready to use!

With a small smile of reassurance, you finally finish gearing Tighnari up, tap a miniature version of that 8-point star in the corner like an “X” button, and it retreats like a classic TV set📺 turning off into his chest, he startles but then carefully stands

You decide to just start making decisions bc its worked out so far ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

And grab his hand and haul him out into the forest, Collei letting out a surprised squeak, her and Cyno hurrying after

You reach the nearest clearing, and gesture at Tighnari like a bow and arrow firing, he gets it, and your glad he already trusts you, because he doesn’t take long to summon his bow

He takes aim at a smaller tree about two cars length away

You can feel them all holding their breathe, as Tighnari charges it with Dendro, the arrowhead glowing, (it looks so cool and badass irl god you feel envious even tho ur already here-)

The ranger lets it fly, it streaks neon green, whistling through the air, it hits the tree-

and it fucking explodes.

Vines and leaves and the trees roots all rapidly swell like theyre filled with water, like it literally got hit by a superhero with plant powers, which, not that far off actually.

The green floating Dendro seeds make a ring around the tree its so full of elemental energy-

You give a wild grin, you still got it, hell yeah. >:)

Your grin widens as you look over at Tighnari, Collei, and Cyno

Cyno has a smirk lighting up his face, eyes eager, Collei’s jaw has dropped and she’s just frozen staring as the tree finally settles from the burst of the dendro powered arrow

…Tighnari has lowered his bow, and his mouth is only slightly open, his ears perked straight up into the air, shaking with excitement? Happiness? Interest? You don’t know how peopl-animal-hybrid ears work,

and you STILL cant talk to any of them to ask what they thought, so looks will have to do >:/

Tighnari is the first to move, his head snapping over to look at you, the brightest, kinda feral tbh, smile taking over his face-

“Blf pmld, dv xzm'g fmwvihgzmw blf, zmw blf fh, bvg R xzm'g dzrg gl hvv dszg rm gsv dliow blf'iv tlrmt gl wl mvcg. Blf'iv znzarmt."

… and you just 🙂? Cool!

And give a thumbs up👍LMAO

☆

Bonus:

Alhaitham was literally running around Sumeru City trying to find you when you left, tho you did try and leave a translatable-in-3-to-5-business days-note, he didn’t have time to translate that because you were gone.

Or worse, lost in the city, and he would never forgive himself if he lost you, esp as Acting Grand Sage-

Kaveh got a letter a day and a half later from Tighnari letting them know you were having a sleepover in Ghandarvaville lol

Kaveh also had to hunt down Alhaitham to give him said news, then force his roommate to go sit or lay down for the rest of the day to recover lmao

(Haitham honestly kinda freaked Kaveh out bc he’s never seen him that... desperate, it was like seeing a statue emote lol)

♡

ARE YOU KIDDING WE ALMOST HIT LIMIT AGAIN?!

Bro has anyone else had this problem???

I literally had to switch from PC to mobile and copy and paste it there to get all my shit in and tumblr not throw a hissy fit???!!!

FUCKING TUMBLR- SUCK MY BIG FAT- 👹👹 UGH

ANYWAYYYY SO I FINALLY CAVED

And started doing ciphers for when you dont get teyvat’s language! I meant to do something fun like this for awhile but I wasn’t sure if that would be kind of annoying, but if you’re interested in learning what they actually say (which the whole point of this is that dw it doesnt rlly matter lol) here’s a hint:

*hint = Atbash

:> good luck!

Wish me luck on my art exhibition today!! Then I’ll be homefreeeee 😭

Safe Travels,

💀♒

♡ the beloveds ♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist

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captainfern · 4 months

Text

i’m still thinking of this post about price and you pretending you don’t know each other at a hotel and i’ve given in to the brain worms

part one | part two ->

18+ (no smut in this one but for future parts), fem!reader

un-edited, super lazy writing + formatting sorry

You sat idly at the bar, your finger running up and down the cool, smooth edges of your glass. You had one elbow propped up against the sleek wood, your body half-turned to watch whatever bullshit was playing on the tv above the shelves of expensive alcohol.

The hotel bustled around you, the bar itself busy with patrons moving to and fro. oftentimes, you felt slightly crowded, with bodies packing in beside you, ordering their poison before departing like a wraith. No one seemed to linger near the bar for too long.

“No company tonight?” The bartender asked, a dark-coloured dish towel tossed over her shoulder. She was a kind looking woman, in her late thirties you estimated, with flawless dark skin that seemed to glow beneath the ambiant lighting above.

You shook your head with a rueful smile. “Not tonight. Just enjoying my own company, I suppose.”

The bartender smiled politely. “Well, that’s nice. You here for business or pleasure?”

You took a sip of your drink, the taste of it washing over your tongue and continuing to put your nerves at ease.

“Pleasure, I think. It’s nice to get away from everything for a while, you know?” You said with your lips still brushing the cold glass, and you took another sip.

“I’m really happy for you,” the bartender smiled. Then, after being waved at by a drunken patron at the other end of the bar, added: “Give me a shout when you need a refill.” She then breezed away to continue her job.

You sighed through your nose, looking wistfully around the bar for a moment. When you returned to your drink, you let your eyes admire the kaleidoscope of colours that comprised the wall at the back of the bar— shelves upon shelves of glass bottles of different kinds of alcohol.

As your eyes alighted on a bottle of Bombay, the blue bottle glinting like some sort of diamond beneath the light, someone slotted into the barstool beside you. You didn’t take much notice, but when you caught a whiff of an expensive, masculine cologne, you couldn’t help but twist your head to the side.

A handsome man had settled in beside you. He was probably in his early forties, with neatly trimmed facial hair that perfectly settled between the angles of his face— his cheekbones, his jawline, the pinkish line of his Cupid’s bow. In the overhead lighting, all dim and moody, his eyes were dark, and his hair speckled with just a few grey strands.

He turned to face you the moment you looked his way, offering you a warm smile that made butterflies tickle the edges of your stomach. You smiled back, before taking another sip of your drink in an attempt to steel your nerves.

Signalling the bartender, he ordered his own drink, and the baritone of his voice had your stomach swooping. Deep and melodious, with a distinct hoarseness akin to a smoker of fine cigars. The rumble of it seemed to do wonders to your fraying nerves, acting as some sort of salve to cool the heat pulsing beneath your skin.

The man thanked the bartender when she placed a tumbler of whiskey before him, the single ball of ice clinking against the crystal. Once more, sending another deep swoop to your stomach, he turned to you with those deep, dark eyes and warm smile, raising his glass.

Your eyes traipsed over his fingers, the roughness of them, the calloused skin pressing against sleek glass. You noted the thickness of them, and the way they wrapped around the tumbler. You also noticed the couple of veins leading from his wrist and down his strong, hairy forearm. You swallowed, and hesitantly lifted your own glass.

“Cheers,” he said, smiling. Crow’s feet appeared at the corners of his eyes, three lines chiseled into his skin over the years.

“Cheers,” you echoed, and the two of you took a moment to sip at your drinks. You swallowed yours, still looking at the man beside you.

He placed his tumbler of whiskey against the bartop, and then leaned an arm against the surface, swivelling his entire body around to face you. He made it known that you had his full, undivided attention. It made you nervous almost.

“I hope you don’t mind me interrupting your alone time,” he spoke, and his words were honeyed and sweet, warm mollasses falling from his tongue. “Couldn’t help myself, really. A pretty lady like you shouldn’t be left all on her lonesome.”

You smiled shyly, running the tip of your finger along the ring of your glass. “Oh, no, you’re not interrupting anything at all. I… I don’t mind the company, actually.”

The handsome man’s smile only grew, and it was so warm that you wondered if you’d start to melt.

“That’s good to hear,” he said. “I’m John, by the way.”

He stretched his hand out. You introduced yourself, a first name that fell from your lips a bit more seductively than you had intended, and shook his hand. John seemed to beam at your introduction and the acceptance of his handshake, his broad-shouldered body sitting up just a bit straighter in his seat.

His hand was strong in yours. There was a warmth beneath his skin, seeping from his palm like ichor. It made your hand curl instinctively tighter around his, just a subtle squeeze of your fingers. His thumb brushed over the back of your hand, and it took everything in you not to gasp.

When you retracted your hand, John reached for his drink to take a sip.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said before he sealed his lips around the edge of the crystal tumbler. You watched the movement, before dragging your eyes downwards in a sudden realisation.

Your eyes locked in on his other hand, resting on his thick, muscular thigh— stretched out beneath a pair of faded jeans, making you feel warm all of a sudden. Again. His hand was bare. No wedding band. You looked back up at him.

“What brings you here?” You asked, cocking your head slightly as he brought his tumbler of whiskey back to the bartop.

John smacked his tongue against the roof of his mouth a couple of times, tasting the lingering bitterness of his liquor. He ran his tongue over his teeth, too, the potent drink seeping into the grooves of his molars. He wondered briefly whether you’d be able to taste it if you kissed him.

“A weekend break from work,” he replied simply.

“Oh, yeah? What do you do?”

“I’m in the Armed Forces. A captain.”

“Wow,” you said, impressed. “You must be a busy man.”

John chuckled, eyes meeting yours and darting quickly across your face, as if committing parts of you to memory. He replied with a light quirk in his lips. “I am, yeah.”

He then cleared his throat. “What about you? What brings you here?”

You shrugged, nonchalant. “Just needed a little getaway from home, I suppose.”

“Oh, yeah?” It was John’s turn to cock his head, eyes darkening— if that was even possible— beneath the weight of his pupils, expanding as he gazed at you. “Treating yourself?”

“Mhm.”

“Good girl,” he uttered. “I bet you deserve it.”

You smiled, feeling giddy. Your eyes didn’t leave him, and the butterflies wreaking havoc in your stomach didn’t leave either. They continued, and the way he was looking at you wasn’t much of an insecticide. His gaze was intense, all whiskey smooth and molten hot. You squirmed in your seat.

Your knees brushed— his large ones against yours, and you swear you felt sparks. You wanted so desperately to place the flat of your hand along his leg, hold it there, smiling and bartering your eyelashes and mentally insisting he take you back to his room.

Oh my god. You’d never thought like this before! You would never usually want someone to whisk you back to their room, especially not someone from the bar of a fancy hotel.

But if it wasn’t for the way he was staring at you— hunger and a mixed-bag of lustrous emotions— you would’ve felt guilty. But you didn’t.

“Sweetheart,” John began with a voice that could ignite a fire on a damp winters day. It definitely ignited something within you, stoking at the embers of your desire. He smiled, heated and tempting. “I don’t mean to be forward but… if you’d like too, I’d love to take you back to my room.”

You felt a smile creep over your pretty features. “Wow, John, are you always this forward with the girls you meet?”

He laughed. “Never. You’d be the first.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Trust me. You’re the prettiest woman I have ever seen.”

You grabbed hold of your drink and downed the rest of it— just two swallows, and your glass shone empty. You placed it gently back onto the sleek surface of the bar, not taking your eyes off of the handsome man in front of you.

“I’d love to go back to your room, John.”

Something shifted in his facial expression. Something primal, almost, passing over his features. With blown pupils and a rush of pink to his cheeks, he finished the rest of his whiskey in a couple of deep mouthfuls, before slamming the tumbler back onto the bartop.

The sound attracted the bartender, who sidled over with a knowing smile on her face. “Closing your tab, sir?”

“Please,” John said with a polite nod, getting to his feet. He then placed a hand to the small of your back as you clambered off of your barstool as well. “And put this lovely lady’s drinks on my tab as well.”

The bartender gave you a knowing look, but said nothing. And once everything had been sorted for the evening, John escorted you out of the bar and into the luxurious hotel lobby with a large hand still on the small of your back.

Walking, and with the lifts in sight, John pulled you closer to him, close enough that you giggled at the sensation of him pressed up against you. He smiled, leaning down until his facial hair tickled against the soft skin of the side of your face.

“I must say, you look absolutely stunning tonight, sweetheart,” he whispered, his voice like heaven in your ear. Then, the hand on the small of your back smoothed around your waist, holding you impossibly closer, fingers bunching at the material of your outfit. “But I can’t wait to take this pretty thing off.”

#hey siri play hotel room by pitbull #captain john price smut #captain john price x you #captain john price #call of duty #cod smut #price cod #price x reader #fem!reader #captainfern

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welcometomyoasis · 4 months

Text

Seventeen doing the cupid's chokehold trend

Synopsis: Types of pictures that seventeen would post when doing the cupid’s chokehold trend on tiktok (ie, a trend where boyfriends post pictures of their s/o). Svt x gn! reader | fluff | 0.4k words | warnings: slightly possessive behaviour, public displays of affection | requested by anon A/n: I am aware that the song used in the trend explicitly refers to the s/o as a female. But I am making this scenario for a gender neutral reader. Also thank you @\weird-bookworm for helping me to find out what this trend was.

The “they are mine” possessive line

➴❤︎ Seungcheol, Mingyu, Dino

He is possessive. He’s yours and you’re his. Period. He’s jumping on this trend the second it comes out. Honestly he’s always posting pictures of the two of you. But this is just another excuse to show people who you belong to. He’s posting pictures that you both are in. More specifically, pictures where there are obnoxious public displays of affection. Pictures of you kissing (lips, cheek, hand everything), lipstick marks, lipgloss marks even. Pictures of his hand in yours, his hand on your thigh, his arm around your shoulders, waist. You name any, and I mean any type of PDA, and he’s posting pictures of it. What? You can’t blame him. He needs to publicly stake his claim to you.

The “you’re royalty to me” line

➴❤︎ Joshua, Junhui, Soonyoung, Dokyeom, Seungkwan

He worships you. You’re royalty, the beauty among all the beasts, the diamond in the rough. The song the trend is based on is actually really soothing? It’s not overly aggressive. And of course he wants to show you off. He wants the world to see how gorgeous you are. He’s going to post pictures of you and only you. Pictures he’s taken of you when you’re posing, candids, selfies you’ve sent him (those that he doesn’t mind being public). He might even go a step further to edit those pictures to make you stand out against the background. He just wants the world to know how pretty his baby is. Although, he might still post these pictures with the caption “Mine ~”.

The “couple goals” line

➴❤︎ Jeonghan, Wonwoo, Woozi, Minghao, Vernon

He doesn’t exactly understand the point of this trend? I mean you both are together, there’s no need to reinforce your relationship through a social media trend? But if you wanted him to, he would make the effort to compile some of his favourite photos. He posts a wide variety of pictures. Some only have you in them. Others are photos of the two of you. The ones that are his favourite are the ones where your hands are intertwined, or it’s just your backs against a pretty background. Hey, if he’s going to partake in this trend, he’s going to make sure that you both are literal couple goals. Everyone should be jealous of your relationship. And, if he’s feeling particularly good, he might even throw in a photo of himself staring lovingly at you.

taglist: @weird-bookworm @wonijinjin @babyleostuff @wishing-fieshes @kwanienies @mayashu @megseungmin @porridgesblog @haecien @mirxzii @scoupsofcherries @eightlightstar @brownsugarbaybee

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buckets-and-trees · 2 months

Note

Cedar Trees OR I’m Your Man + sleepy morning orgasm 😘

Both! both both both!

BUT

I did write FINALLY FINISH a little something for one of them. I've been thinking of this man for quite a while...

Title: Morning Radiance Characters/Pairings: soft dark!Mafia!Andy Barber x female!reader Word Count: 750

Content Warnings: explicit smut - nipple play, spanking, oral - female receiving, vaginal fingering, implied oral - male receiving, somnophilia, DUBIOUS CONSENT

Logistical Notes: Takes place immediately after I'm Your Man. Probably can't stand alone. Not edited.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You stir slowly into consciousness, your body already humming with pleasure, but every inch of you is also still heavy with exhaustion. There's a warm glow of morning sun touching your skin, but it's not too bright yet.

You become aware of a warm, wet mouth worshipping your breast, and you let out a content little sigh. A large hand is kneading at the other breast, but your stirring spurs that calloused hand to move down the softness of your stomach, caress your hip, and then down the length of your leg. When it moves back up, this time along the tender flesh of your inner thigh, you spread your legs and give a little hum, aware of your nakedness and glad you don’t have to rustle out of any clothes and can cling to the strings of sleepiness. You’re already wet, and you distantly registering you don’t know how long your bedmate has been working your body.

A nip at the underswell of your breast makes you gasp and draws you closer to wakefulness, but your closed eyes are still too content, so you stay mostly in your sleepy state.

“Mmm, I love how responsive you are,” the voice still thick with morning roughness makes you tense as the events of the night before flood your memory.

It’s Andy Barber’s voice.

It’s Andy Barber’s palatial bed you’re in.

It’s Andy Barber’s beard and lips and tongue exquisitely torturing your breast. His hand teasing your thoroughly ruined pussy.

Andy Barber who thoroughly ruined and punished your holes and limbs.

Andy who dangled ruining your career and reputation by spreading the word you were a thief after having someone plant three of his Rolex watches in your bag and “confronting” you about it after all was said and done with the charity gala you had planned and executed flawlessly.

He removes his hand only to rain down a quick succession of slaps to your pussy, and you cry out and try to snap your legs closed, but it’s futile as part of his lower half rests over your right leg, keeping you splayed out for him.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he murmurs against your breast before giving it one more long suck. “I’ll always temper the pain with pleasure.”

You whimper and try again to move your hips, but he bars them to the bed and quickly settles at your core, nestled between your thighs with your legs over his shoulders.

And then he worships your cunt with slow kisses and long licks, soothing the sting he’d inflicted and stoking your body’s need for him.

“No,” you whine.

He chuckles because even as the protest falls from your lips, your right hand comes down to twine your fingers in his hair and push him more firmly against your dripping hole.

You bring your other hand up to cover your face, and then you pull it back, clicking the unfamiliar feel of metal against your skin and unexpected weight there.

Twisting your wrist to look at the back of your hand, you gasp at the flawless, sparkling diamond engagement ring. It’s larger than anything you would have dreamed of, but just within the realm of still being tasteful and not ostentatious.

He slipped it on your hand at some point in the night.

“You like it?” Andy pauses, leaning up to look at you and gage your reaction.

“It’s gorgeous,” you confess, but it’s one more thing you didn’t ask for, didn’t get to choose, in a long line of things Andy has promised and taken since revealing what he wanted last night.

“It’s perfect for you,” he says with satisfaction before returning to your clit.

You whimper as he edges you ever closer to orgasm.

The previous night he’d wrung every drop of pleasure out of you, playing your body until you passed out with exhaustion. He’d told you not to plan on leaving his bed this weekend, and as he pushes you onto that precipice yet again, you don’t question now how serious he is. He plunges two thick fingers into your hole, and you groan in the bliss that overtakes you.

He lets you catch your breath while he kisses back up your body, then kneels over your chest and taps his hard cock to your chin. “Come on, sweetheart, let me see that pretty ring shine while you jerk me off and suck the tip of my cock.”

And that’s only the first set of orgasms for the morning.

He’s got the rest of Saturday and Sunday to enjoy his new fiancé.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

Do we still like I'm Your Man Andy? I know I haven't posted anything for them since December...

#chris evans characters #andy barber #andy barber smut #andy barber x female reader #soft dark andy barber #tw: dubious consent #i'm your man collection #aspen wrote something

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bloody-peach · 2 months

Text

Snake Eyes (Helluva Boss: Striker x F!Reader smut fic)

(gif edit by me)

~~~♡♡♡~~~

Now Playing: E.V.O.L. by Marina and the Diamonds, FutureSex / LoveSounds by Justin Timberlake [headphones recommended]

Goodie Bag: flirting, rough sex, vaginal sex, anal sex, oral sex (m receiving), deepthroating, masturbation (f), cursing, dirty talk, striptease, vaginal fingering, creampie [let me know if I missed anything].

A/N: Who doesn't wanna fuck Striker? Like, come on. When he pinned Blitzø to the wall in his debut episode, I wanted to be in Blitzø's place so bad. So I decided to make a fic. It's pretty short, but it's still good, trust me. Enjoy!!

Taglist: @omniuravity @pinkhimecat @moths-and-mantids @neonvehk @fatgumsurpremacy-remastered and all Striker simps!

~~~♡♡♡~~~

Your life wasn’t the best at the moment. Your bitter ex put a bounty on your head for no reason, and this forced you to be on the run. You were currently in the Wrath ring, trying to outrun this bounty hunter that’s been on your ass for a while. It wasn’t fair that he was riding on a horse, but you were able to keep a good distance from him. Unfortunately, you didn’t know that he had a lasso on him. You gagged when the lasso wrapped around your neck tight, pulling you back and knocking you onto your ass. You tried to pull the rope off of you, but it was on tight. During your struggle, he walked up to you, looking down with a smirk on his face. His tail flicked in a flourish, making the same sound as a rattlesnake’s tail. “Gotta admit, you can run pretty fast. But not fast enough.” a rough male voice said. “I haven’t lost a catch in my entire life, and I ain’t starting today.” He pulled the lasso up and got you on your knees. You had a good look at him and recognized him immediately. This was Striker, the ruthless bounty hunter who hunted down and almost killed Prince Stolas. You were aware of his track record of bounty hunting, and you knew you were just another paycheck. ‘Fuck, he’s hot,’ you thought to yourself.

He eyed you up and down and said, “Hey, you’re a cute one. Not a bad body on you, either. Maybe I’ll have some fun with ya before I turn ya in.” You weren’t sure how, but this man just flipped your switch and you decided to flirt with him. When he loosened the lasso so you could speak, you smirked and looked at him with flirtatious eyes, saying, “Oh? Have I caught the eye of the famous bounty hunter, Striker?” Striker’s eyes narrowed, momentarily taken aback by your smirk. His grin remained plastered on his face, however, as he leaned in further, his breath brushing your cheek. “Famous, eh?” He repeated, drawing out the word. “Maybe I am, maybe I ain’t,” he chuckled softly, running a hand through his snowy hair. “But there ain’t no doubt that I’m the best around these parts.” He paused, looking you up and down with a predatory gleam in his golden eyes. “And now that I got ya, well...you got a few options.”

“Option one, sweetheart,” He began, gesturing to the lasso around your neck. “We could keep things simple and quick. I turn you in, you’re executed, and I pocket that hefty bounty on your cute little head. Easy peasy lemon squeezy, right?” He winked, a mischievous smile tugging on his lips. “Or option two, we have ourselves a bit of fun, see how much you enjoy it..or how much I do. And then I decide whether you’re worth keeping around or not. Sound good?” You liked where this was going, so you smile and say, “Personally, I like option two better, wouldn’t you agree? Maybe if we hit it off, we can fake my death and split the bounty. I got quite a bounty on me, so if we split it, we’d be richer than even those Goetias.” Striker’s eyes widened as he smiled, clearly surprised at your words. “Ya reckon? Now there’s an idea,” he said, running a finger along your jawline. “Well, alright. Let’s give ol’ option two a go, see how it feels. But understand something, sweetheart, if I feel like you’re lyin’, tryin’ to trick me, I ain’t above changin’ my mind and sendin’ you straight to yer maker.” As he helped you stand up, Striker adjusted his hat and walked closer to you, looming over you. “Now, don’t think you can run off, darlin. That ain’t an option.” He smirked, his voice low and seductive. “I’m in control here, always. Otherwise, we ain’t got no game here.” You were getting turned on so much the more this went, so you smiled and said, “Well, that’s good, because it wouldn’t be any fun if I was the one in control.” A sinister grin spread across Striker’s face, his eyes flickering with excitement. “That’s more like it,” he growled, grabbing your arm and throwing you onto his horse. Once he got on, he made you wrap your arms around his waist, saying, “Hold on tight now.” With that, you two were off.

It was sunset when he stopped at a hotel and got you two a room. Once he brought you in the room, he pinned you to a wall and gazed down your body, lingering on your chest, before locking back on your eyes. “I bet you taste real sweet, don’t cha?” He murmured, his finger tracing a slow circle on your throat. “Between those legs of yours, you prolly taste like heaven.” He grabbed you and pulled you close to him, his body pressing against yours, the hard lines of muscle evident beneath his clothes. You blushed, but felt so turned on as you said, “Well..only one way to find out.” Striker grinned, his grip tightening on your waist as he pressed his groin against yours. “Oh, I’m gonna,” he growled, his hand sliding down your body and undoing your pants. “Real soon, darlin’. Real soon.” He leaned in, his mouth brushing against your ear as he whispered, “But first, I wanna watch you squirm, feel your body shake with pleasure before I taste every inch of ya.” He broke away, stepping back and fixing his coat. “Strip for me,” He said, his voice deep and commanding. “Slow and sexy, darlin’. Don’t forget, I’m in control here.” He lit a fresh cigar, puffing on it as he watched you undress, his eyes never leaving your body.

You nodded and you started to strip nice and slowly, giving him a bit of a show with a little strip tease. Striker’s eyes widened, his nostrils flaring as he took in the sight before him. Your slow, erotic dance had rendered him speechless, but not for long. He swallowed hard, his fingers drumming on his belt. Soon, you were completely nude, your arousal evident as he noticed your juices dripping down your thigh. “Damn, girl,” He muttered, his voice shaky. “Look at ya, drippin’ an’ ready for me.” He slowly approached, putting his cigar out and throwing it out as he reached for you. He wrapped an arm around you, his hand groping your ass as his other hand brushed against your wet flesh, a low chuckle escaping him. “So fuckin’ beautiful,” he praised, his hand running along the curve of your hips. You let out a series of moans as he started to rub your pussy, his fingers skillfully playing with your folds and clit. Striker couldn’t help but chuckle as he felt how wet and responsive your pussy was beneath his fingers. “Just wait til I’m inside of ya,” he breathed into your ear, his words coming out heavy. “Ain’t nothin’ like havin’ you clench around me, feeling every throb and twitch.” He slid one finger inside you, feeling your walls contract around him. “Fuck, you’re tight.” He pushed in another finger, his cock straining painfully within his pants. “I’m gon’ fuck you so hard, baby. Make you scream my name when I reach that sweet spot.” His hand started moving faster, thrusting in and out of you, rubbing your clit with his thumb. “Feel that, darlin’? Imagine it bein’ me -- my cock poundin’ into ya, fillin’ you up.” Just the thought of his cock stretching your pussy out made you even wetter and made you moan more as he continued fingering you. “Fuck, baby,” Striker swore, his arousal threatening to burst through his jeans. “You ain’t no liar, are ya?” He chuckled darkly. “Your pussy’s so damn greedy for me, already wanting more.” He took his fingers out, watching as they glistened with your essence. You watched as he licked his fingers clean, a sinister look in his eyes when he looked at you, saying, “I was right. Your pussy do taste like heaven.” He cupped your chin, forcing you to look at him. “Tell me, darlin’, do ya wanna feel me inside of you? Then get on your knees and beg for it.” He demanded, his voice thick with lust. “If I’m gonna take ya, you best beg for it properly.”

You nodded and got on your knees, looking up at him and putting on your best puppy-dog eyes as you said, “Please, Daddy..I want your hard cock..give it to me..I need it so badly..please fuck me...I’ll do anything you want..” Striker’s eyes darkened with hunger, his heart pounding in his chest. “That’s my girl,” he praised, reaching for his belt buckle. Unbuckling it, he let his jeans drop, revealing his thick erection standing tall and proud. He smirked, holding his cock and aiming it at your mouth. “Anything I want, huh?” He mused, running a hand through his hair. “Well, since ya asked so nicely, I’ll start easy. Take my cock in yer mouth and suck it like a good girl,” he commanded, his eyes never leaving your face. “Prove how much ya want it.”

You nodded and gently grabbed his cock, stroking it and licking up the shaft. You then kissed the tip of his cock and slid his cock into your mouth, sucking on it as you moaned. Striker hissed, his hand fisting in your hair as you took him into your mouth. “Goddamn, that’s good,” he groaned, his hips jerking involuntarily. “You got some skills with that tongue, that’s for sure.” He tugged your hair, guiding your movements. “Swallow me down, deep throat me,” he grunted, his pace picking up. “Make me feel that warm, wet throat around my dick.” His breathing grew ragged, his hips bucking hard. “Don’t stop, keep going. Show me how much ya need this cock.” You did as he said and took more of his cock in your mouth, feeling it go down your throat and slightly gagging until you were able to relax your throat, making things much easier. Soon, you were able to deepthroat him to the point of your lips touching his hilt. Striker’s eyes rolled back as he tilted his head back, his fingers digging into your scalp. “Fuck, yeah..” he moaned. “Take it all, darlin’, show me how much you love it.” His thrusts became more aggressive, his body trembling. “Keep goin’, make me lose myself in your mouth.” You sucked even more, making sure your tongue massaged his shaft. You reached towards your pussy and you started to touch yourself as you sucked him off, clearly turned on from the experience as your juices dripped onto the hardwood floor. Striker’s eyes narrowed, his breaths coming out harsh and uneven. “You’re gonna make me cum like this, aren’t ya?” He growled, his grip tightening on your hair. “I fucking love a woman who knows what she wants.” He pulled out, his cock glistening with saliva. “But I’m in control here, remember? So, enough of that,” He said hoarsely, grabbing your arm and throwing you onto the bed, soon pushing you down and hovering over you. “Time to get that pretty pussy stretched wide.”

He put his hands on your hips, his eyes locked on your dripping pussy. “Spread your legs wider for me, baby,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “Cause I’mma ride ya so hard, mark my words..” You spread your legs wider, your pussy twitching with anticipation. Striker grinned, his eyes gleaming with danger. “Perfect,” he murmured, positioning himself between your legs. “Now, tell me if you want me to be gentle or rough.” He teased, his tip brushing against your entrance. “Your choice, darlin’.” His eyes bore into yours, waiting patiently for your decision. “Remember, you asked for this. Now choose wisely.” You smirked and wrapped your arms around his neck, saying, “That depends, sexy. How do you want it? You’re the one in charge here. I’m just here to take it like a good girl.” Striker’s grin widened, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Damn right you are, darlin’. I’m in control.” He growled, thrusting into you forcefully. “But don’t worry, I’ll give ya a taste of both.” He began with a steady rhythm, his hips grinding against yours. “Like that, huh?” He sighed, his voice tinted with satisfaction. “Worried you wouldn’t be able to handle me, but look at ya takin’ it like a champ.” As he pistoned in and out of you, his pace increased. You were tight, so fucking tight around him. You just lost it as his size stretched you out so good, moaning as he kept thrusting, “Ohhh fuck..yeah..!” Striker’s eyes heated up, his thrusting becoming even wilder. “You love it, eh?” He snarled, gripping your hips tightly. “Takes a real man to stretch ya out like this, don’t it?” He leaned down, whispering in your ear. “But I ain’t done with ya yet.” His grip tightened as he pulled out of you. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard now, got it?” Without waiting for an answer, he slammed into you again, his thrusts erratic and violent. “Like that? Wanna see how far you can take it?” He snarled, his pace unrelenting. “Show me how much you can take!”

Your pleasure had reached its peak, crying out in pure ecstasy, “Ahh..! Ohhh..S..Striker..! Yes..! Harder..! Deeper..!” Striker roared, his thrusts becoming even more savage. “Fuck yeah, that’s it,” he gritted out, his breathing labored. “Ya like that, huh?” He reached down, rubbing your clit roughly. “Don’t hold back, darlin’,” he ordered, his pace not slowing. “Let me hear you scream.” His cock slid in and out of you like lightning, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. “Goddamn, I’m gonna paint your walls with my cum,” he promised, his eyes blazing. “Can’t wait to hear ya scream my name.” “Y-Yes..! Please...fill me up...make me yours...ohh fuck..!” You moved your hips to match his thrusts, intensifying the pleasure for both of you. “Ohhh fuck, your cock feels so good, baby..!” Striker growled, feeling you meet his thrusts. “That’s it, darlin’,” he encouraged, his pace increasing. “Fuck, I ain’t gonna last much longer.” He grabbed the back of your head, pulling you into a passionate kiss. You kissed him back, moaning in his mouth as your tongues did an erotic dance. Striker broke the kiss and looked you in the eye. “Tell me what you want, Y/N,” he demanded, his voice raw with desire. “Do ya want me to fill ya up?” His thrusts became more desperate, his hips slamming into yours with all his might. “Tell me what you need, baby girl.” “I..I need you to fill me...fuck me in all of my holes...fill me up full of your cum until I can’t take any more..use me..break me..!” you cried out. Striker’s eyes flashed, his entire being focused on satisfying your request. “Goddamn, that’s what I’m talkin’ about!” he snarled, his thrusts becoming even more brutal. It’s not too long until he came deep inside you, filling your pussy up to the brim. “Gah, fuck..” he groaned. He quickly pulled out and flipped you onto your stomach, wiping his cockhead on your ass before aligning it with your back door. “Ready for another round, darlin’?” He asked, his voice thick with lust.

With a swift motion, he plunged into your ass, making you gasp. “I’mma fill every hole ya got,” he promised, his thrusts frantic. “Feel every inch of my cock inside ya.” His cock slid in and out of you, fucking you mercilessly. “How’s that, huh?” He panted, his grip tightening on your hips. “Need me to go faster, slower?” You gripped tightly on the bedsheet, your teeth gnashing down on the fabric as you lost your mind even further, moaning as he fucked your ass so good, “Ohh yeah...more..fuck me more...don’t stop..” Striker smiled cruelly, his thrusts becoming even harder. “Atta girl,” he praised. “I ain’t gonna stop until you drain every bit of cum from my cock.” He slapped your ass, hearing you whimper. “Scream for me, Y/N,” he commanded, leaning down to bite your neck. “Let everyone know who you belong to.” “S..Striker...ahh...Striker...I..I belong to you..!!” Striker smirked, biting down on your neck to make sure a mark would be left behind, a sign of ownership. “That’s my girl.” His thrusts grew frenzied, his cock stretching your ass to its limit. “So goddamn tight,” he snarled, his pace ruthless. “I’mma make sure you can’t walk tomorrow.” You soon could feel the knot in your belly starting to wind up and soon, you moan out, cumming hard. Finally, he came inside you again, his orgasm shaking his entire body. He kept thrusting into you, elongating both of your orgasms.

“There ya go, baby,” he chuckled, collapsing beside you. “I hope I filled you up good.” You crawled up to him and laid your head on his chest. “Oh, you did so much more than fill me up, baby...” you said, your voice slightly slurred. Striker chuckled, wrapping an arm around you. “Glad to be of service, sweetheart,” he said, his breath still slightly ragged. “Guess ya liked it rough, huh?” He put his hand on top of your head and nuzzled you, his heartbeat slowly returning to normal. “Don’t worry, darlin’,” he whispered, running a hand through your hair. “Next time, I’m gonna be gentler.” He watched you snuggle into him, making him smirk. “Unless you beg for more, of course,” he teased, his eyes twinkling. “But for now, let’s figure out how to pull the wool over that bastard’s eyes and how we’re gonna split that bounty.”

~~~♡♡♡~~~

#helluva boss #helluva boss striker #helluva boss fanfiction #striker x y/n #striker x reader #striker x you #helluva #helluva striker #helluva boss smut #helluva smut #helluva fanfiction #helluva boss fanfic #helluva fanfic

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deepdarkdelights · 2 years

Text

The Reaper | Jungkook x Reader

Pairing: Yandere Mercenary Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 14.6k

Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Obsession, Fear, Non-Consensual Touching, Symptoms of Panic/Anxiety, Stalking, Murder, Lots of Blood, Attempted Sexual Assault (Not By Jungkook), Mild Smut, Dub-Con, Cunnilingus, Decapitation, Throats are Slit, Wolf Attacks

I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals.

Preview: “With your skirts drawn up over your thighs, the skin raised with goosebumps from the cool spring air, his hand retreated only to return with what looked like a stamp but where the rubber should have been, there were instead tiny needles all coated with bright red ink. Before you could begin to squirm again he quickly pressed it against the side of your thigh pulling a pained cry from your throat.

When he removed the faux stamp beads of blood rose to the surface of your skin, blending with the red ink that has been left behind. But the image imprinted on your skin was clear as day, a symbol your town had come to associate with fear: a skull pierced by a sword and ensnared by a snake. It was the mark of the reaper.

You had been marked for death.”

A/N: Here I am at almost three in the morning again lol. This is super UNEDITED but I will edit it tomorrow so please bear with me when it comes to any grammatical errors. I HUSTLED to get this done before classes start Monday so hopefully the quality did not suffer. This also ended up being 4-6k longer than intended. Very on brand. Anyways, I hope you enjoy and I can’t wait to see you in my inbox and the comments, love you 💜💜💜

It was supposed to be the happiest day of your life, but your stomach was twisted in knots.

You were one of the lucky ones, at least that was what your father had told you when he excitedly grabbed hold of your hands with a winning smile.

“A diamond in the rough,” He had whispered in awe, “How lucky I am to have had such a beautiful daughter born out of this village.”

It is true that none of us have a say as to what family we are born into, and that couldn’t be any more true for you. You were born into a poor family in a dilapidated village in the woods, you had been destined to live a destitute life like everyone else who had come before you. But you were happy. You enjoyed your spring days running barefoot through the Brooke, the lingering heat of summer nights beneath the stars, the crunch of autumn leaves underfoot, and the bite of cold winter wind against your cheeks. You adored the simplicity of the only life you had ever known and you never wanted for more.

But oftentimes, parents desired more for their children, more than they ever had. And that was why your father had jumped at the chance to marry you off to a visiting lord.

Had you not entered the forest that day to forage, maybe you would not have ended up in this situation. But you had so there was no point in dwelling on the alternate possibilities of what could have come to pass rather than what actually had.

~~~~~~~

You had always been warned about the danger of the woods growing up, but those warnings had been about wolves, bears, and mountain lions. There had been one dangerous animal you had ignored, one you walked amongst every day: men.

You had been sitting down in the soft grass, your legs folded beneath you at the knee as you carefully plucked berries from the bush, your cupped palms pouring them into the basket beside you when he had approached. At first, you considered that you had been so focused you had not heard him follow you, but you soon came to understand that he had been perfectly silent - his body so trained to move in stealth that even the woods would not give him away.

A firm arm wrapping around your waist and the cool glide of metal against your throat startled a shriek from you as your body flinched back only causing you to corral yourself into his arms, your back pressed against his solid chest as the knife posed at your neck barred you from moving.

You panted in fright, your eyes clenching shut as you felt his lips brush over the shell of your ear while he hushed you and cooed like you were a little injured animal.

“Stay still, little lamb, I don’t want to hurt you.” He muttered, his voice low and rhythmic as he spoke a language you had no way of understanding.

“I don’t understand,” You said after an uncomfortable swallow, your neck tense beneath the blade of the knife.

“There are many things you can’t understand, not yet, the hunt hasn’t begun.” He said with an amused chuckle.

The humor was lost on you, his words nothing more than a jumbled mess of sounds strung together that you were unable to decipher. His actions though, were readable. You jerked in surprise as his knifeless hand slid down your body, tugging your layers of skirts up over your knees and not stopping there.

“Stop! Leave me alone!” You cried, your legs kicking frantically as you grabbed his forearm and tried to still it.

You were quick to learn that he was incredibly strong as your grasp did nothing to dissuade him. Another laugh vibrated through his chest and against your back, he was clearly amused by your thrashing which only served to send chills down your spine. He pressed the blade harder against your skin, the metal just barely piercing the soft, vulnerable flesh causing your body to go rigid in fear that he would slit your throat.

“Good girl,” He hummed, the tip of his nose grazing over your cheekbone in what felt like an almost affectionate gesture. “Be still,”

With your skirts drawn up over your thighs, the skin raised with goosebumps from the cool spring air, his hand retreated only to return with what looked like a stamp but where the rubber should have been, there were instead tiny needles all coated with bright red ink. Before you could begin to squirm again he quickly pressed it against the side of your thigh pulling a pained cry from your throat.

You had been marked for death.

A pained cry of devastation filled the forest, a sound that had unwillingly left you that was not unlike the call of a wounded animal. Out of everyone in your village, why had you been chosen to die? Who would have paid the hefty price to target a quiet village girl?

You knew what came next, you were going to be hunted down. That was what they did - they marred the flesh of their victim so that they could find them if by some miracle they had found a way to run away. And that meant the runner would have an entire band of reapers on their tail, chasing them until they grew too tired to continue running and were unwillingly dispatched - their soul severed from the body in one fell swoop of a blade.

You weren’t going to survive this, no one ever did. And why would you be the exception?

The reaper behind you hummed in what he attempted to make a soothing manner as he lowered his knife from your throat, the hand that once held the horrific stamp was now freely caressing your arm in short smooth strokes.

“Did it hurt that badly, little lamb?” He whispered in what you now knew to be the coded language of the reapers.

There was no way you would ever be able to understand what he was saying and he knew that so why did he bother speaking to you in his language at all? Why didn’t he speak the villages’ language? At least then you could understand what he was planning to do to you, and your wild imagination was only frightening you more than what he had done so far.

His fingers brushed your tears away, they were long, nimble, and calloused, the perfect tools to wield an arsenal of weaponry but were instead attempting to soothe you. You were utterly confused.

“Don’t cry, this is a happy day, you’ll see that soon I promise you.” He spoke softly, his hands gently cupping your face and allowing you to face him as his thumbs continued to swipe the tears away.

Your vision was blurry making it difficult to identify him, your body still shaking with frightened hiccups. You could make out the honey hue of his smooth skin and the dark strokes of coal around his eyes as well as the black leather and linen that covered his body. You could tell that he was young and most definitely strong, his linens straining against the cords of muscle that built his shoulders. Even with your limited vision, you were able to tell that he was perfectly sculpted to be a reaper, a hired killer to whoever offered the highest price.

His fingers lightly traced down the length of your jaw before freezing, his entire body stiffening like he had heard something you were not able to hear. And you were exactly right, he had heard the incoming party of hunters.

You heard him unsheathe his sword before you had seen it, the sound of metal slicing through the air as he wrapped a strong arm around your shoulders, tugging you into his side.

It took a moment before you heard it, but the sound of hooves was unmistakable. And, a few short seconds later, the first horse broke through the trees before being followed by a band of its fellows. Seated astride the first horse was a man that was near your father’s age, his clothing refined and expensive along with the gold and jeweled rings that covered his fingers. And the sigil he bore on his horse was enough to confirm your suspicions - he was the lord of the land.

Your body sagged in relief and, as a result, relaxed against the strong chest of your captor whose grip only tightened further. You were going to be saved.

“Release the girl, or suffer the consequences.” The Lord spoke, his voice still and commanding.

The man behind you was motionless, his breathing steady and calm despite the massive hunting party that was armed to the teeth staring him down.

“I won’t tell you again,” The lord called, and with that, his men raised their bows and notched their arrows - all waiting for the command to fire.

The reaper leaned forward, his warm breath beside your ear as he whispered the only words he has been permitted to say, “When the time comes, I will find you.”

And with that, he threw a small pouch with lightning speed, the fabric unraveling as it met the ground and releasing a massive and unrelenting stream of dark plumes of smoke blinding everyone in its vicinity - giving him the perfect cover to slip away.

Your eyes teared up as the smoke cleared, whatever powder had ignited had greatly irritated your eyes and filled your lungs with smoke causing the hunting party and yourself to violently cough away the burning sensation in your throats and chests.

You dug the heels of your palms into your eyes as you recovered from the unexpected attack. You were shocked that you were alive more than anything else. It had been a twist of fate and a shot of luck that a highborn had traveled this far into the land and because of that, you were alive. But for how much longer, you were unaware. The mark on your thigh still stung, demanding its presence be known. With that mark, you were as good as dead. No, you were a walking corpse - it was only a matter of time before the reapers came for you.

The sudden appearance of a hand before your face startled you back to reality causing you to fall back onto your rear in an embarrassing display of clumsiness.

It was him, Lord Ilseong.

“Are you unharmed?” He asked, concern heavy in his eyes.

You gratefully took his hand and allowed him to help you to your feet before bowing your head to him and bending at the knee in a show of respect, your eyes trained to the ground.

“Thank you,” Your voice wavered, heavy with emotion, “You saved my life, I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”

Lord Ilseong hummed in appreciation at the sight of your submission, “How unusual, someone of your status who understands etiquette.”

Your blood warmed in irritation from his remark, despite the heroic actions he was like every other highborn of the land. They saw the people of your village as uncouth, dirty, and uneducated. You were surprised he hadn’t wiped his hand after helping you up.

You flinched in surprise as your chin was held still once more today by his hand. The creases around his eyes deepened as he smiled, turning your head from side to side to appraise you.

“Why you don’t look like the common peasantry at all,” He said with an amused grin and lecherous eyes, “In fact, you are quite the beauty.”

“Thank you, my lord,” You forced the words out from a strained smile. You knew better than to disrespect a high born, lest your head would be swiftly removed and your family slaughtered from your careless wrath.

One of the firmest lessons you had learned had been how to control your anger. Village people were expendable and you were not special.

“Well trained,” He mused before releasing you from his hold, “I think I know just how you can repay me, my dear.”

You were suddenly struck by the thought that you had escaped one dangerous trap only to wander into another.

Lord Ilseong and his men had escorted you back home. The entire process was quite the spectacle, especially for the village people as you returned astride the horse of the lord of the land. He had helped you up and sat you directly in front of him, his one hand holding the reigns and the other settled on your waist. It had put you in an uncomfortable position, you couldn’t pull away from his wandering touch or you would tumble off of the horse. You had nearly collapsed in relief upon returning to your shack, your body slipping down the side of the horse and making for the front door in record time.

Your stomach turned when he followed you inside. He had greeted your father enthusiastically who in turn fell to his knees in a deep bow. You rushed to his side and slid your arms beneath his, helping him rise back up to his feet.

It was then that the horrible deal was made.

“I have saved your daughter’s life and in turn, I expect to be repaid.” He said after he recounted the tale of your rescue to your father.

“Repaid, my lord?” Your father asked, his voice wavering in fright, “I am afraid there isn’t much we lowly peasants could offer you.”

“It is not money I require, nor land, nor tax,”

“Then…what more could you request?”

“Your daughter’s hand, assuming she is untouched of course.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach as soon as his words met your ears. Lord Ilseong was not much younger than your father, in fact, you were certain that had your father not been subjected to decades of hard labor he would not look as aged as he did now, his stature would resemble that of his lords’.

The sickness that brewed in your stomach was only made worse by the elation present on your father’s face. You could tell what he was thinking, being the father of the lady of the land would ensure the end of his days of work. He could find comfort and peace until the end of his days.

“But of course,” Your father nodded excitedly, “Forgive my questioning, but what could you want with a peasant girl?”

“The previous lady was unable to birth me a son before her untimely passing. Your daughter is young and not nearly as uncouth as the rest of this village and her upbringing while unfit for that of a lady has no doubt made her strong. She will surely give me many children, and with training, we shall break her into the life of a lady.”

You stood there, floored by the conversation that transpired before you. Your maidenhood and your liveliness were being haggled as if you had no say as if you weren’t even there. He spoke of breaking you like a mare and reducing you to nothing more than a child bearer.

“She has certainly passed marrying age, I am doing you an immense favor by marrying her, really.”

“An immense favor, indeed,” Your father mused, his hand cupping his chin as he pretended to be deep in thought despite already having made his decision, “Consider it done.”

You felt as if you were on the verge of fainting.

“Excellent, I shall send for my new bride in a week's time, until then I shall make preparations for the ceremony,” He said with a triumphant grin that told you that he was all too accustomed to getting what he wanted. “Until then, my dear.”

In a matter of moments, your life had been irrevocably changed. And at that moment, you desperately hoped that the reaper would find you first and dispatch you before Lord Ilseong would ever have the chance of taking you.

You shivered in disgust as the lord left a parting kiss on your hand before shutting the door after him. You frantically wiped your knuckles against your patched skirts before running to your room. You could hear your father calling after you, demanding you to stop but you did not listen.

The yelling only continued when your mother returned home. You could hear your parents fighting the entire night, your father raising his voice over your mothers as he explained what this marriage could do for your family. Your mother understood your plight, she too was against the idea of your being wed to a man twice, almost thrice your age.

But at the end of the day, your father’s decision reigned supreme. There was a hierarchy to all things, to society, to work, and of course to families. You were to be wed, regardless of your and your mother’s protests.

Your fingers traced over the red-inked mark on your thigh, the imprint of the reaper still there with nowhere else to go. You relayed your thoughts as you traced the mark, a mantra barely parting your lips as you begged for the reaper to find you first.

Your index finger traced the lower curve of the circle that surrounded the symbol, and just there you could feel the raised bumps of a word, of a name.

Jungkook.

~~~~~~~

That was what had landed you where you were now, seated in a carriage sent by Lord Ilseong and dressed in pristine, elaborate robes.

It was your wedding day, it was supposed to be the happiest day of your life but you could not help but entertain the thought of throwing yourself from the carriage and allowing your body to be crushed beneath its wheels. While that seemed dramatic, you knew that the only way you could escape that old man was by death. He was a Lord, he took what he wanted and didn’t stop until he obtained it, and that included yourself.

Your stomach churned with nausea, not only from the ceaseless swaying of the transportation but from the ever-present anxiety you had felt all week which had come to a climax on this very day.

Perhaps, if you were lucky, he would take many mistresses and would be satisfied with them after you birthed him a son and he would leave you alone for the rest of your days. And maybe if you were even luckier he would die within ten years' time - stricken by disease or the halt of his heart. But you could only dream, dreaming would get you through this inevitable endless nightmare.

The reaper had not come to save your soul.

That was what you had reasoned, your untimely death would save your soul from being tainted by his lordship. You would much rather die young than be bound to that man for the remainder of his days. You would much rather be impaled by the cool steel of a blade than ever allow him to touch you again.

You allowed your body to go limp against the side of the carriage, the cool spring breeze soothing over your face like a gentle caress. You were in the thick of the woods now, the winding branches of the trees casting twisted shadows over everything below them. They looked like snares just waiting for the right prey to wander into them.

After that thought entered your mind, everything changed. In the blink of an eye, an array of arrows were let loose, flying into the wheels of the carriage and sending it careening off to its side.

You shrieked in surprise and fright as the carriage was easily tipped over, your body following immediately causing you to slam down all of your weight against your right shoulder and the other carriage door which now lay against the ground.

You cried out in pain as your body thrummed in shock from the fall, your head ringing from the collision against the door. You could feel a stickiness in your hair causing you to raise your hand to touch your scalp, and when your fingers retreated they were coated with thick, red, blood.

A gurgled scream had you snapping back to awareness. That had to have been the driver, you could just faintly make out his form, from the small slatted windows toward the front of the carriage, which was steadily slumping forward as all life was rapidly draining from him.

“What?” You gasped as you struggled to sit up, all of your weight resting on your bent forearms as your vision blurred. You had hit your head well.

The carriage shook with a loud thump, your throat tightening in fright as you heard several more steady thumps follow. Someone had landed on top of it, they were coming for you.

You hissed as you were blinded by a sudden burst of light, the other carriage door that was now above you had been wrenched open. As you blinked away the stinging sensation in your eyes you realized that you were no longer alone.

There was a man standing above you, straddling the entrance to the door. He was clothed from head to toe in black cloth and leather, his left arm bare and exposed, and a mask covering his mouth and nose. All that you could make of his face was the glinting metal pierced through his eyebrow, both of which were furrowed in what was concern but came across as intimidating.

“Stay away from me!” You yelled, your head throbbing in response to your shouts.

The man shook his head silently before settling into a squat and gripping the door of the carriage in one hand before leaning inside and grabbing the sleeve of your robes. Now that he was nearer you were able to make out the stitched symbol on his shoulder that you hadn’t been able to see before - a red skull, sword, and snake.

He was a reaper.

You didn’t know whether to struggle or flee due to the fact that your whispered wishes in the night had suddenly come true. The reaper had come for you first, Lord Ilseong would not have you. Due to your plight your body had frozen, your mind overloaded by your sudden realization.

The reaper - Jungkook, took the opportunity to swiftly pull you out of the carriage and gently set you down on the soft grass. You stared at him dumbly as he dropped into a squat in front of you, his hands taking hold of your face and maneuvering it so he could assess your head wound. He tisked to himself in displeasure, his fingers lightly prodding the area around the wound forcing a wince and a groan out of you.

“Poor little lamb,” He hummed, his fingers retreating only to lightly trace down the curve of your jaw.

“Please, if you’re going to kill me do it quickly, and don’t make me suffer. Let me die with dignity.” You said, boldly grabbing his hand and pulling it away from your face.

You had heard tales in your village, tales of what some of the reapers had done to some poor unfortunate girls - stealing their innocence and leaving them behind to deal with the burdens that have been relinquished to them whether they had been marked or not. The marked girls were luckier than most - their pain ended along with their life.

Jungkook cocked his head to the side in curiosity. He was not stupid, he knew what you were asking. But what truly puzzled him, was why you would think he would do something like that. If he had wanted to kill you he would have done it that very day he had met you.

“Mea Lunatta,” He replied despite knowing you could not understand him, “My wife.”

With that, he scooped you up into his strong arms and began to walk deeper into the trees. Your body went limp, you knew very well there was no way you could fight a born killer, it would be futile. Instead, you stared ahead, the light disappearing as he walked, his grip firm and strong. Although the woods were quiet you could not shake the chill that curled around your spine, you could feel that you were being watched. And you were not wrong, all it took was a little concentration and your eyes adjusting to the dim light before you saw it.

There were eyes in the trees.

~~~~~~~

Jungkook had finally come of age. At the age of twenty-five, he was finally permitted to partake in the hunt.

The hunt was an annual occurrence, it happened like clockwork every spring. The reapers lived far from the villages, deep in the woods in their homes they had built all in a clustered community. And because of this reclusiveness, they often operated much like the predators of the woods. And that contributed to the start of the hunts. Every spring, like animals in rut, they hunted for partners - for wives.

On the first of spring they dispersed, all the men that were twenty-five or older, and searched for their prospective partner.

Jungkook had found you that first morning, on a cold spring day. He had heard you humming to yourself in the early hours of the morning. The small piles of melting snow glittered with the golden light of the steadily rising sun. You were hanging up white sheets on a clothesline, the fabric fluttering around you from the cool breeze. You looked absolutely breathtaking, like an angel shrouded in white with golden rays.

From that moment on, he knew he had to have you. And as protocol instructed, he followed you around for the next several weeks. He grew attached. You radiated a warmth he had never felt before with your gentle smile and kind words. It was a warmth he wanted to steal for himself, a warmth that he could not bear the thought of sharing with anyone else.

He found it endearing, how shy you were. But you were oh so tempting. He liked to think that you were inviting him into your room when you left your window unlatched, you were just too bashful to say anything. So he took the opportunity to sneak inside whenever you “allowed” him to. He wasn’t embarrassed to admit that he had rummaged through your things while you slept mere inches away. It had become a habit of his ever since he had trained to become a reaper, to learn all he could about a person.

He learned that you were a bookworm from the hidden stories he found tucked behind your dresser, the pages creased and torn with love from the continuous thumbing through them.

He learned you loved flowers from the blossoms he found pressed between those pages, bright blooms of daffodils, violets, and buttercups greeting him.

He learned you often went hungry from the lack of food in your family's pantry.

So began the second stage of the hunt, the courting. You seemed puzzled but unconcerned from the sudden discoveries of presents left on your window sill. By all means, you were delighted by the short stories, the bundles of wildflowers, and the occasional carefully wrapped veal and loaves of bread. Your excited smiles were enough to make his heart thump in his chest.

And so the courting continued until the week before the ceremony. That was where he was finally permitted to touch you, to mark you.

The marking always occurred one week before the new moon, the date on which the official hunt would take place. The mark of the reaper meant different things depending on where it was placed on a person’s body, something which outsiders were typically unaware of.

A mark on the wrist meant the mark of death.

A mark on the chest signified that you were a reaper.

And a mark on the thigh was reserved only for potential spouses - for a wife in Jungkook’s case.

Jungkook hadn’t anticipated that a lord would be in the area that day, nonetheless, Hell’s Hollow as the reapers referred to it. And he certainly could not have anticipated that said lord would come to your aid. Jungkook would have fled, taking you with him had he been permitted to do so. But there were rules he had to follow.

The first rule was that he was not permitted to speak to outsiders. Although you were marked, you weren’t considered to be one of them and you were not allowed to have any knowledge of what was to come.

The second rule was that after the marking, he was not permitted to see his potential spouse until the night of the hunt.

The third rule was that the official hunt always took place on the new moon. The lack of moonlight gave the potential spouses an advantage - the darkness created a new challenge for the reaper that was seeking them.

And the fourth rule was the most important of them all: if the runner made it outside of the reaper’s territory they would be given their freedom - no strings attached.

That was a rule that made his heart clench uncomfortably. It was a rule engrained in tradition, if you were to best him, prove yourself capable, he would have to let you go. Despite what most of the villagers believed, reapers were bound by their honor and if they were to break those rules they would be dishonoring their brethren, and they would be exiled.

But the thought of that didn’t frighten him nearly as much as the thought of you successfully evading him. He knew he had an advantage, he had been tracking marks his entire life, he was confident that he would be able to capture you before you broke the boundaries of their territory. He couldn’t afford to doubt himself, doubt leads to mistakes and mistakes led to failure.

He would not fail.

You were surprisingly still in his hold as he trekked through the forest. He had expected you to put up more of a fight, to try and flee. But he had forgotten that you were indeed smart, you most likely knew you would not be able to escape him like this, especially now. Pride swelled within him at the thought of how clever you were, but at the same time worry quelled in his mind, your cleverness might take you away from him.

He glanced down at you several times as he continued your journey, he would be lying if he were to say you were not distracting. You smelled fresh and clean with a lingering scent of oils that had been rubbed into your skin which was practically glowing, especially with the added intricacy of the garments you wore. They were familiar to him, the style, the embroidery, it was from someone he knew. Someone he wished he didn’t know. And that greatly confused him, but not as much as the sight of you inside that carriage that they had planned to attack. They had thought the lord himself would be inside, departing the village with collected taxes. But instead, you were there, his chosen.

He could feel the eyes of his comrades in the trees, burning into his back. This was something he had been trying to avoid.

Jungkook was strong and he was promising, it was well known knowledge that once the leader of their troupe stepped down he would be in the running for the position, a position that was highly sought after. And while Jungkook had many friends, brothers, amongst the reapers, he had just as many enemies. So what better way to scorn him than by stealing his chosen?

They all knew now, and he was certain that they would be hunting you alongside him tonight.

That was a part of the hunt, after all, to challenge themselves. Reapers that were of age that did not bring a chosen partner would hunt from the pool if they wished to. And if they died in the process, the reaper that killed them would go unpunished. Jungkook was certain he would have to kill for you tonight, and that thought did not bother him.

Your body suddenly tensed in his arms and in turn he stopped, immediately going on the defensive. He could feel you shrinking back into his chest in utter fear, harsh pants of breath parting your lips in pure fright.

“Wolves.” You gasped, your hand involuntarily squeezing his bicep.

A loud snap severed the silence of the forest and from the bushes emerged a wolf. It had the brightest blue eyes and pitch black fur, standing as tall as a horse.

“Direwolf,” He said, a word that was the same in your language.

You shrieked as he began to walk forward, your body wriggling for the first time since he had grabbed you. He hushed you, patting your back as he neared the wolf. The wolf did not appear to be aggressive, in fact, it seemed quite relaxed, even happy at the sight of Jungkook. Its massive tail swung slowly in excitement as it walked beside Jungkook, consciously slowing its pace so it did not overtake him.

“My wolf,” He explained. He knew very well that you could not understand, but he could not remain silent, he wished to speak to you.

The Direwolves had become their companions, they respected one another's borders and in turn, had formed a close relationship with select reapers. The Direwolves guarded their campgrounds, and in turn, the reapers ensured they would be fed in the barren days of winter. The Direwolves were the reason why no one ever tried to ambush them, they’re massive bodies, fanged teeth, and tough skin made them an impossible adversary.

They were incredibly good at keeping people inside as well.

His wolf made a good guide, leading the way into the campgrounds. The sun was nearly set, the forest growing impenetrably dark on these short spring days. It would not be long before the hunt started and he still needed to prepare you.

The campgrounds were fairly empty, not many reapers or families milling about. They all knew what tonight marked and they were all preparing in their own ways. The wolf followed behind closely, coming to stop and sitting by his cabin, his bright blue eyes steady and alert.

You began to struggle again as he crossed the threshold, the missing presence of the wolf instilling your instincts to fight once more.

“Put me down!” You yelled through gritted teeth, your irritation from being carried around like a rag doll boiling to the surface.

You could see his jaw clench beneath the cover of his mask, you were making him angry.

He slammed the door shut behind him before setting you down, leaning against the only exit to make sure you wouldn’t try to leave before it was time.

“I won’t let you touch me,” You said with a shake of your head, “And I won’t go down without a fight.”

You were impressed by the steadiness in your voice in spite of the deep-rooted fear you felt inside. You were not necessarily lying to him, you would make it as hard as possible for him despite knowing just how easily he could restrain you. You were terribly frightened.

His body shook with laughter, his eyes crinkling in amusement which only served to unsettle you as well as frustrate you. He too knew that your threats were useless, in fact, he found them to be adorable. But, he did not have any plans that were like what you were insinuating. He would not be able to do that until after he caught you, fair and square. Not until you were his wife.

He crossed his strong arms over his chest, leaning back in a relaxed manner against the door before nodding his head in the direction of the table where a white garment was folded on top.

“Change.” He instructed.

You looked between him and the table before shaking your head, “No.”

He cocked his head to the side, his pierced eyebrow raising in questioning at your defiance. He pulled down his mask and let it rest around his neck before he spoke again.

“Change,” He smirked before sliding a knife out of his leg sheath, “Or I will do it for you.”

You didn’t have to speak his language in order to understand what he was insinuating. He would have no problems slashing your clothes into ribbons so you would have no other choice but to wear what he was giving you.

You could feel your eyes burning with unshed tears that were threatening to pool over. Whenever you became overwhelmed with emotion you cried, especially when you were angry and you hated that so much. You sniffled pitifully and rubbed at the skin beneath your eyes, the playful smirk immediately dropping off of Jungkook’s face as he took a step in your direction.

“Look away,” You snapped, stepping backward and grabbing the plain fabric from the table.

Jungkook seemed distressed, his lips pressing together in worry as he watched you. But, after a few moments, he nodded and faced the door to give you your privacy. That was at least one kindness that could be afforded.

You were woefully embarrassed to not only be changing in the same room as a man, but also by the attire he had provided you with. It was a dress that was thin and breathable with loose angel sleeves as well as a skirt that ended mid calf, it was made to offer mobility and comfort. You felt horribly exposed, the dress far too scandalous to be anything but sleep wear. You felt naked, in your village this would be just as bad as being naked.

But it was either this, or nothing at all.

“What are you going to do to me?” You asked, and despite your attempts, worry penetrated your words.

He looked over his shoulder before slowly turning to face you, his dark eyes roaming over your body from head to toe in what could only be described as appreciation. He didn’t answer you, and from what you understood that was in his character. Instead he approached you and in turn you took several steps back until you were halted by the table behind you. He advanced and did not stop until there was barely an inch of space left in between you two.

Your harsh swallow was cacophonous in the quiet cabin, your gaze was turned downward in an attempt to avoid his eyes.

He softly lifted your head up with his thumb and forefinger on your chin, forcing you to look at him. Your hands gripped the table behind you in response, your eyes flickering off to the side in anxiety.

“I’m going to love you,” he whispered with a soothing tone as he retrieved a small silver jar from behind you filled with red pigment, “I’m going to protect you, and if anyone tries to take you from me I’ll slaughter them without hesitation.”

He gently smoothed your eyelids shut and proceeded to paint the red pigment over your eyes, over the crests of your cheekbones, and dragged down the hollows beneath your eyes. Even without seeing it, you could recognize the pattern as the same one he wore on his face in coal dust.

“You are mine, and I am yours,” He said while cupping your cheeks tenderly and pressing his forehead against yours.

After Jungkook had finished preparing you, he grabbed you be the hand and lead you out of the house. The Direwolf was still there and it continued to follow the two of you around like, well like an overgrown puppy.

Jungkook’s grip was firm but not painful, it was meant to keep you by his side. It was dark out, the dirt paths just barely lit by a line of torches leading toward the center of the ground where a massive until bonfire was constructed. And surrounding the unlit fire was a massive crowd of reapers as well as women dressed almost identically to yourself.

Your heart clenched in your chest, what was coming next? Were you going to be sacrificed? Roasted and cannibalized? Whatever is was, it wasn’t going to be good for you.

You dug your heels into the ground, surprisingly, startling Jungkook. He turned to face you, the light of the torches glinting off of his piercing and the red hue of his lips. You hated to admit it, but he was painfully beautiful. With a strong jaw, prominent brows, dark eyes, and pouty lips, he was the most attractive man you had ever seen. He looked as if he belonged among nobility, not here, in the middle of the woods with a bunch of wild men.

“Please,” You whispered, stepping closer so he could hear, “I need to know what’s going to happen to me.”

His jaw clenched, his lips pressed firmly together in thought. There was a beat of silence before he warily looked around and flipped your palm over so it was facing the sky. And then, he began to trace patterns, no, letters over the surface of your palm.

You focused, memorizing the letters and stringing them together in your mind until they formed coherent words. Words that sent a violent chill throughout your entire body.

“Run, don’t hide.”

~~~~~~~

The bonfire roared to life behind you as you sprinted through the forest, an eerie red glow casting long shadows all around you. The women that hadn’t figured out what was happening right away were far behind you, you had been granted a head start. But you knew that time was precious, eventually the reapers would descend and if they didn’t manage to catch you, you didn’t want to imagine was the Direwolves would do to you.

You could only imagine that this was how they entertained themselves. Perhaps someone had not hired Jungkook to kill you, but instead like an apex predator he desired to hunt you. This had to be a game for them, whoever slaughtered the most people won.

But then why did he tell you to keep running and not to hide? To lengthen the game? Or, if you hid, would the others find you? Did he want to claim your life instead?

Your legs and arms burned with exertion as you ran, the cool earth soggy and soft beneath your shoes that were most definitely not made for running. They were a size too small and pinched you in all of the worst places sending searing pain throughout the bottoms of your feet. You debated kicking them off but thought better of that, the nights were still freezing and if you managed to make it out of this alive you would prefer to keep all ten of your toes.

Despite your head start you could still hear everything that happened behind you. You could hear the other women screaming and fighting for their lives and that only served as motivation, forcing you to push yourself past your limits and sprint faster than you ever had before.

A scream parted your lips as a large black mass shot out of the trees and just barely brushed against you. You stumbled but did not fall and continued running but you couldn’t stop yourself from looking over your shoulder. Black fur and piercing blue eyes, it was Jungkook’s wolf who was pinning a reaper down to the ground. You watched as he snarled and lunged for the man’s neck and crushed it with one snap of it’s jaws before slowly dragging the corpse back into the trees and ripping his throat open. His blood rolled down his neck and practically sizzled from the cold air.

Your stomach turned and your throat tightened, you were definitely running slower now from your nausea and the muscle fatigue. How had you not noticed the wolf tracking you? Or the reaper? They both had been perfectly silent, one with the forest, and you had not even realized that man had been less than a foot behind you.

You were out of your depth, you were going to die.

Your body had been rife with adrenaline at the beginning of this horrible race, and that still was present especially after what you had just experienced. But your mind was contesting your body and you were horribly frightened and confused.

In your panicked state and the deep darkness of the night, you had failed to see it. A wire had been strung up and the minute you ran through it your ankles were caught, you tripped and fell and the wire wrapped smoothly around you ankles: binding them together.

Someone had set traps before the start of the hunt, they had done something that felt an awful lot like cheating.

“No!” You cried, smacking your palm over your mouth from the volume, “No, no, no, please no,” You whispered.

You flipped yourself onto your back and sat upright, your hands instantly pulling at the wire and attempting to unravel it from your ankles. You hissed in pain, a stray tear falling from your eye as the wire slashed at the delicate skin of your palms - crimson blood beading up and slipping from the wound.

You clenched your jaw tight to muffle your sounds of discomfort and got to work, whimpering at each slice as you pried the wire open and unwound it painstakingly slow. You grunted under your breath as you pulled it free, a clear indent left in the flesh of your ankles that was bloody and fresh. You let out a soft breath of relief before turning over onto your hands and knees, attempting to stand back up so that you could continue your escape.

Before you could move any farther a boot connected with your back, forcing your down to the ground like a helpless bug. A sharp wheeze left your lungs as pain radiated through your back, your fingers curling into the dirt beneath you as you tried to drag yourself out from underneath whoever was pinning you down.

“There you are,” The man said with a pleased tone in the language you spoke.

You cried out as he wove his gloved fingers into your hair and sharply yanked your head up by causing shocks of pain to blossom over your scalp. He turned your head to face him, his other hand tightly grasping your cheeks.

“Oh yeah, you’re Jungkook’s bitch,” He laughed, “You’re pretty too, that’ll make this hurt even more.”

“Please, please let me go! I swear you’ll never see me again, I just want to go home!” You cried, emotion swelling up in your chest to the point where you couldn’t stop yourself from crying.

You hated crying, you wanted to be strong but fuck, you were so scared. You knew that you were moments from dying, this had to be it and you weren’t ready.

“And that’s exactly what I can’t have, what better way to piss that asshole off than to steal his woman from him? To make him see you everyday knowing I rightfully won you and he can’t do anything about it? Hell, I could even fuck you against the side of his house if I wanted to and he wouldn’t be able to do a fucking thing about it.”

His woman? His woman?

You suddenly came to realize a horrific thought. They weren’t hunting for sport, they were hunting for wives.

“You’re a little older than I would have liked, but I’ll make do,” He sneered, flipping you over onto your back and straddling your waist.

“Stop, let go of me!” You screamed, wriggling underneath him and hitting whatever part of his body you could reach. You caught him by surprise, your nails catching on his skin and dragging down over his face drawing blood beneath them.

“You fucking bitch!” He yelled, wiping the blood from his face before grasping your wrists and pinning them down to the ground and above your head.

“I was going to be nice to you, ya know? But now, now I’m going to make you suffer,” He spat, the veins in his neck bulging with rage.

You screamed, panicked sobs filling the air as he gripped your hands with one of his own, the other going for the waist of his pants. You knew what was coming next, you had heard the stories of what they did and all you could do was cry and struggle beneath him, he had you pinned well.

You clenched your eyes shut, your lashes clumping together from the amount of tears you had shed. You didn’t want to look, didn’t want to see what was about to happen.

In a last ditch effort, a small ember of hope, you screamed once more, “Jungkook!”

And it was all over in a flash. A warm, thick, wetness sprayed over your face - a coppery taste misting over your lips as a gurgled, choked cry sounded from above you before the weight of the man fell off of you.

You kept your eyes closed, still too afraid to move, your body was completely frozen against your own desire to flee. You jolted at the feeling of fingers ghosting over your cheek, fingers that were rough and coated with something that felt tacky.

Warily, you opened your eyes. It was Jungkook. His mask was pulled down around his neck again, his expression was one of panic and rage. You swallowed harshly as he wiped away your tears and whatever was coating your face. You allowed yourself to take in the sight of him from head to toe and you were met with the startling realization that he was covered in blood. His forearms, his palms, his chest, and his boots, and not to mention the light smattering over his sharp jawline.

He had killed many people tonight.

Your eyes wandered behind him and on the ground a lifeless corpse was splayed out. It was the man that had captured you, his throat was savagely slashed so deeply you thought you could see bone.

You frantically began to rub at your face, the white sleeves of your dress stained with dirt and blood rubbing roughly against your skin. You were certain your face would be raw by the time you were done.

You hadn’t even realized you were panicking, frantically mumbling sentences that didn’t make sense as you attacked your own face, until he spoke.

“Sh, sh, sh,” He hushed you, pulling your hands from your face, “It’s over, you’re safe now.”

Your body froze, it took you a few moments to realize that you could understand him, this was the first time he had spoken your language.

“Please, I want to go home now,” You whispered, your hands limp beneath his as your shoulders shook.

“I’ll take you home,” He nodded, standing up and helping you to your feet. Your knees were still weak, your ankles protesting as they continued to bleed. You were sure they were going to get infected at this rate.

“You’re hurt?” He asked, his voice much softer than you had anticipated. You merely nodded in response.

He recognized those marks, they were from a specific snare that only reapers used. And, on the night of the hunt, they were banned. His jaw clenched in anger, he was trying his best not to explode, not to scare you. His rage would be wasted, after all he had already killed that bastard and his little band of low-lives. Just as he had suspected, they were all after you that night.

He stepped forward, opening his arms to pick you up. You jerked away, your body still trying to protect you - not sensing that the danger had passed. Or was it right? Jungkook was one of them, he had marked you, brought you here, he was just as dangerous.

“I won’t hurt you,” He said, trying to keep his voice calm and soothing, “You need my help.”

As reluctant as you were to admit it, he was right, you wouldn’t be able to walk all the way back with him, you were in far too much pain. You nodded slowly before inching towards him and allowing him to gently cradle you to his chest.

Jungkook paused once he adjusted you in his hold. Your face was still stained just as badly as the rest of him despite your frantic attempts to clean yourself. The makeup that has once been on your face was smudged and dissolved by your tears. But, you had made it. He knew he chose you for a reason, you had ran the farthest, you had outrun so many men and the ones you couldn’t he and his wolf dispatched.

His heart thumped in anxiety as he looked over his shoulder where the bloody snare laid. You had been so close.

Another two feet, and you would have broken their borders and had been free to go.

~~~~~~~

The bonfire was still burning just as strongly as it had been at the start of the hunt. That led you to believe that it had not lasted as long as you thought it would. The reapers were proficient hunters and killers just like the Direwolves that protected their lands. It was foolish to believe that anything about this would have been challenging for them.

Upon your arrival you were met with the sight of a substantial crowd. All of your fellow runners were there each in a different state of despair and disbelief. But besides them, there were many newcomers that you had not seen before. There were families, large families. Mother’s occupied with their babies, young children giggling as they chased one another, and the glowing eyes of the Direwolves surveying, their massive bodies folded into themselves as they laid on the ground by the tree line.

They were on guard, not from outside threats, but guarding the way out. It would be suicide for anyone who tried to leave. You had seen what those wolves could do, you would not dare try to leave with them here.

“What is this?” You asked Jungkook who had set you down on a soft cushion a fair distance from the fire.

“A celebration,” He explained “For good fortune and prosperous futures.”

Prosperous futures? What future could anyone have after this? That was of course, if he was lying to you. If he didn’t know that you knew what all of this was really about.

“So it has nothing to do with the fact that you chose me to be your wife?”

Jungkook flinched, his doe eyes widening in surprise before a small smile crept onto his lips, “You figured it out then? I knew you were smart, that was one of the reasons I chose you. I could see the cleverness in those eyes from a mile away.”

You shifted uncomfortably underneath his stare before straightening your spine, attempting to appear far more confident than you felt.

“I’m not yours, I never will be.”

His lips twitched into a frown, “You were mine the second I laid eyes on you. You accepted my gifts, my proposal, and I caught you fairly. This may not be conventional in your village but it is tradition in mine. You bare my mark, you followed me here willingly, and we completed the ceremony. You are mine and I am yours in a way that is far more binding than any church could declare. Do you understand me?”

He was thoroughly angered, you could practically feel the heat simmering off of him, stronger than the fire that was not too far away. You watched as he stood, dragging one of several large barrels filled to the brim with water over to you. He grabbed a spare cloth and dunked it into the water before dropping down to his knees and beginning to clean your hands and feet, removing the dirt and blood from beneath your nails and the wounds on your ankles.

You watched him work for a moment, his brows furrowed in irritation as well as focus. Behind him several reapers watched on in astonishment, several looks of surprise as well as disapproval coloring their features.

“Why are they staring at us?” You whispered, curling into yourself from the attention.

“It is tradition for the spouse to cleanse the reaper after the ceremony, not the other way around,” He mumbled, grabbing a new cloth for your face.

His intense, dark eyes bore into your own as he cleaned the blood from your cheeks, “I am willing to break tradition for you, rules for you, does that not prove that I am yours as much as you are mine?”

Your heart thumped against your will. Adoring words like those should not leave the mouth of a killer so easily.

“I can’t be yours.”

“And why is that?”

“I,” You swallowed harshly, the words burning your tongue before your could even form them, “I am promised to Lord Ilseong.”

Fire blossomed in his eyes, those dark coals igniting in an instant. You had never seen hatred grow so quickly in a man or woman’s eyes before and it genuinely frightened you.

“Lord Ilseong?” He hissed, his strong shoulders squared and tensed.

“Y-yes,” You stuttered, unnerved by the sudden shift in demeanor, “He will come for me, you must know that. I am his betrothed.”

Jungkook said nothing, instead he quickly rose to his feet and grabbed you firmly by the wrist, pulling you in the direction of his cabin where his wolf still laid in waiting. You struggled to keep up with his pace, stumbling over your own feet as you were nearly dragged by him into his home.

“What are you doing?! You said you would take me home!”

“And I did not lie to you, this is home, our home now.”

“Lord Ilseong-”

“Say his name one more time,” He warned as he fixed you with an intense glare, “One more time, and I’ll make sure mine is the only one you’ll be able to remember.”

You froze, your body refusing to move as you were pinned in place by his intimidating glare. You had been tossed from one fire into another. From one lecherous old man to a wild young one. You had yet to decide which was worse.

“Why do you hate him so?” You asked, surprised you were able to voice such a question when he was clearly on edge.

He laughed, a bitter and cruel sound. You could see his shoulders shaking in barely contained rage. He did not hate him, he loathed his entire existence.

“Why do I hate him?” He echoed, his jaw clenched tightly, “Lord Ilseong is my father.”

You couldn’t stop your jaw from dropping, he had taken you completely by surprise. Jungkook looked nothing like Lord Ilseong, Jungkook was far too beautiful. But, if you looked hard enough, the faintest traces of him were there, in his jaw and brow, but for the most part you could conclude that Jungkook was blessed with his mother’s features.

“That…that’s not possible! The lady was never able to conceive a child. Lord Ilseong has no children.”

“None that were legitimate. No, I am his bastard. And I had quite a few siblings to show for his unfaithfulness. He sought out any pretty face he could and took them with or without their regard. That is something that all reapers have in common, we are the rejected children of nobility and we have come to reap what they have sown.”

You could see it now. Many of the reapers you had seen at the fire were painfully attractive, the offspring of beautiful people who had been abused and taken advantage of. And in turn they were rejected by those who had given them life. But just like the nobility they had been born from, they too were tainted with corruption, that much was evidenced by your capture and what had almost transpired before Jungkook had slain that man in the forest.

“That is why he wishes to marry me, to finally have a legitimate child to continue his legacy.” You confirmed. You had thought before he was a perverted old man, and that much was true, but he had much bigger plans.

“He what?!” Jungkook was seething.

“That was what he told my father, he wished for me to give him many children.”

As soon as you were finished speaking, you could see him snap. He grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you to the back of the house where his bedroom was. He slammed the door shut and pushed you firmly in the chest causing you to stumble back onto his bed.

“He has taken everything from me, but this I will finally take from him.” He said, tugging your skirt up just as he had done the week before spurring a squeal from your lips.

The red mark was still there on your thigh. No amount of scrubbing from you or your mother has managed to remove it from you skin. You gasped as he dropped to his knees and leaned over you, pressing a fervent kiss to the mark while his hand gripped your other thigh.

“This means that you are mine, I found you first, I chose you first. You have a purpose here, you are important here. Make no mistake I am not giving you a choice, you will not return to him. But if you try to run know this, a life with him will be one of misery and suffering. Here, I am offering you my love, my soul, whatever it is you desire. But in return I desire the same. And if you were to offer those to anyone else I would kill them without hesitation.”

You sat there in shock. Never had a man ever knelt before you in such a position, in submission. No man had ever declared such a violent love for you.

You knew, despite Jungkook’s vehement denial, that you did have choices and there were three.

The first was to return with Lord Ilseong when he inevitably came for you. And what would come of that. A life of misery, Jungkook had said. You would be doomed to marry a man nearly thrice your age, endure a horrific wedding night and several more like it until you missed your cycle, and then give birth. And that would continue over and over again until he died, an endless cycle to ensure he would have a pool of children to choose from in the event that his first born perished or, worse in his eyes, was a girl. And the thought of him, his wrinkled hands, touching your body had your stomach churning. You would rather fight the Direwolves.

The second was to run, to go back home. But that posed several problems. For one, your father would never take you back. You would become his greatest disappointment just as quickly as you had become his pride. He would send for Lord Ilseong and your fate would be sealed. Or, more likely, Jungkook would find you first. And you knew then that your family would no longer be safe.

The third option, the final option, was just as difficult as the first. And that was to stay with Jungkook and his reapers. To be his wife. You would be trapped with the man who had captured you, who had stolen you from your home. You would stand by for years on end, watching the cycle continue as people were either slaughtered for money, or were captured to be wed. But, you would still have some freedom. You wouldn’t be “broken like a mare” as his lordship has said. You would still be where you thrived, in nature. And your “husband” would not be an old decrepit man. As unwilling as you were to admit it, the thought of Jungkook touching you was not entirely repulsive. Had he been another village boy, had he been sweet, innocent, and kind, you would have jumped at the chance to be betrothed to him.

Jungkook was the lesser of evils.

“Let me have you,” He said, his hands stroking slowly up and down the expanse of your thighs which had pressed themselves together tightly out of not only anxiety but something else all together. It was a horrible, addicting blend.

And you couldn’t help but think to yourself, what better way to spite that old man than to lose your innocence to his bastard. You knew that Lord Ilseong would come, without a doubt he would not let you be free. But when he came with his army and slaughtered the reapers you would be free. Jungkook would be dead and the Lord would not take you, you who were no longer a virgin and tainted by his illegitimate son. Jungkook was right, you were clever.

You finally met his gaze, his head still craned up to look at you. There was something enticing about having a powerful man on his knees. You had never had power, you were always the pawn.

And so, when his hands moved higher, fiddling with the hem of your undergarments, you did not stop him. As nervous as you were, frightened as you were, this was a part of your plan and you would see through it. You would do it if it meant you could have your freedom.

And anyone else was better than Ilseong. Especially the attractive man that knelt before you like a devout worshiper at his altar. If you were lucky, he would not make it hurt.

A desperate sigh left his lips as he rolled your skirt up over your hips and hastily removed your undergarments before pulling you to the edge of his bed and forcing your legs over his shoulders as his head disappeared in between your thighs.

You shrieked in surprise as you felt his lips meet the skin of your inner thigh. His hands were holding your hips tightly, preventing you from moving as he left long, lingering kisses there. His lips were surprisingly soft, wet, and warm, creating an unfamiliar ache at the apex of your thighs. Your hips twitched without your permission, writhing in an attempt to get him to do something your body understood better than your mind. His soft laugh vibrated against your thigh, his dark eyes shooting up to look at you in a way that could only be described as mischievous before he ducked his head down and his lips met a place you had not dared to touch.

A cry of shock broke free from your lips, your head falling back and your chest heaving in pleasure.

“W-what? Jungkook wait-” You stuttered in confusion, your words easily silenced by the strokes of his tongue.

The entire inner workings of what happened between a husband and wife on their wedding night was a mystery to you. And that was not your fault. Mothers and fathers often kept that from their daughters, too afraid to tell them too much lest they learn how to rid themselves of their virginity before they marry. Your mother had told you enough the day you were to be sent to Lord Ilseong, but this, this was a far cry from what she had told you.

Despite your pleas he did not slow down, in fact he only became that much more enthusiastic. Your arms turned to jello, collapsing out from underneath you sending your back down to the mattress as your legs shook around his head. You could feel him groaning against you sending vibrations all throughout your core, it was like he was the one receiving immense pleasure and not you.

It felt like he wanted to devour you.

He broke away once to catch his breath, his shoulders heaving as he panted.

“So pretty for me,” He mumbled, his voice much lower than before and riddled with lust.

You jolted with a strangled moan as he pressed a long, lingering kiss to that place once more before his fingers firmly stroked up and down the length of your sex, just barely sinking in to your entrance in a teasing manner that had your hips bucking pitifully against his iron grip. He would to decided to give you what you needed when he wanted to. The chase had been great fun, but the capture was the true reward and he planned to thoroughly enjoy it.

“So sensitive,” He laughed, pushing your hips down, “Have you never been touched before?”

Your eyes were clenched shut, your mouth twisted into a frown as he continued his touches that still left behind a pleasant thrum but also an intense ache as he deliberately avoided every part that would provide you pleasure.

As soon as he realized you weren’t paying attention his withdrew his fingers and you could only whine from the lack of his touch.

“I asked you a question,” He said, very clearly waiting for your response.

“No,” You admitted despite your embarrassment.

His face was set with determination and glee, he was happy to know that he would have you first in every aspect.

You wriggled away from him as he stood up, joining you on the bed and attempting to remove your dress. You had never been exposed to someone else before and while you felt desire burning inside you the thought of him seeing you bare was frightening. But he smiled at your bashful actions and he knew that he would have to rid you of your clothes quickly.

You froze as he removed a very familiar knife from the strap on his leg, your heart beating louder than thunder. Maybe he had been planning to kill you all along, maybe he was finally going to do it.

But instead of killing you like you thought he would, he pulled your dress taut and with one impressive slash slit it open from the bottom to the top. Your chest heaved against the cool metal of the blade that now rested at your breasts - the feeling just as exhilarating as it was frightening.

“Easy, little lamb,” He cooed, setting the knife aside, “What use would I have for a lovely, dead, wife?”

You watched in awe as he stripped down, revealing every inch of honey skin and toned muscle. But, more surprisingly, and arm full of tattoos. He had always kept one arm bare and the other covered. The covered one hiding the collection of inked markings on his arm as well as the reaper’s mark on his chest, the mark that you shared with him on your thigh. He quickly noticed where your attention strayed to.

“Each one signifies something different. Some of them are milestones, ranks, and others represent kills,” He explained, grabbing your hand and resting it on his bicep, encouraging you to touch him.

Your fingers smoothed over the scarred skin, enraptured by the sight. You had never seen so many markings on one person. You could only assume Jungkook had killed many, many people.

He sighed at the feeling of your touch, eagerly wrapping his arms around your body and pulling you onto his lap, pressing your chest against his firmly so that there was no space left in between you two. Your body was rapidly heating up, the feeling of his strong thighs and hardened manhood beneath you only making the fire in your veins burn hotter.

He gently cradled your jaw with one hand, the other spread over your ribcage just beneath the swell of your breast. And, with a surprising tenderness, he pressed his lips against yours in a soft, slow, sweet kiss. But it did not remain soft for long, his hold grew firmer, his kisses more intense and hard like he could not get enough of you, like he needed you more than air itself.

And, with a flood of heat, you realized that he had kissed you in-between your legs before stealing your first kiss from your lips.

“Don’t be afraid of me,” He whispered against your mouth, misreading your trembling body, “I’ll never hurt you, I only want to pleasure you.”

And he followed through on his promise. You had never thought that hands that could bring death could also bring pleasure, but you had been mistaken. In the veil of darkness, under the absence of the moon, the two of you indulged in a night of debauchery.

You had been told that this night would be painful, that you would cry and wish it had never happened. But instead you had found immense satisfaction and a desire for more. While your life had been riddled with misfortune you had been granted one ounce of relief - Jungkook was a gifted lover. So gifted in fact that you found yourself unwilling to part from him, your hold on his body almost as strong as his grasp on you. Your nails had found themselves embedded in his back, raking down the once smooth skin and leaving marks of your own on him. You were certain that your inner thighs would be bruised from just how tightly you encircled his waist. You had allowed a part of yourself to escape that you did not recognize.

“My good little wife, taking me so well,” He had moaned into your ear, his hips desperately rutting against yours. “Absolutely perfect for me.”

And he continued on like that, whispering praises into your ear and bringing you to the edge over and over and over again, his stamina prevailing even as you weakly mewled and attempted to draw away from him, every inch of your body screaming in oversensitivity but even then that pain felt horribly good.

“You can take another, for me, I know you can handle it,” He growled out from behind gritted teeth, at this point he had become more animalistic than man.

“I can’t -”

“You can, and you will.”

That was something you had come to learn about Jungkook. He always followed through on his promises as well as his threats.

When he had finished for the second and final time he held you close to his chest, the scent of sweat and intimacy still fresh in the air as you unwillingly began to doze off, all of your energy completely drained from your body after not only the intense coupling but all of the energy you had expended prior running for your life.

But as you drifted off you were reminded of exactly why you had done this in the first place. You still were meant to leave, you still craved your freedom.

All it took was one sentence from Jungkook to remind you of your plan. As long as you stayed complacent you would never be free.

“I can’t wait to see what you’ll like, round with my children.”

This was what he had meant by “prosperous futures.”

~~~~~~~

The next morning you were abruptly awoken by the scent of smoke thick in the air and the sound of harsh pounding on the front door.

The space beside you was empty and faintly warm, Jungkook had been up for a little while. You could hear his voice now as well as another reaper’s.

“What is it?” Jungkook’s voice.

“We’ve spotted a decent band of soldiers a few miles out, they definitely belong to a nobleman from the crests they carry. They’ve set fire to the forests, they’re trying to burn everything down in sight - they’re either looking for us, someone else, or both.”

“How much time do we have?”

“Not much, the scouts we sent ahead have returned so I imagine that the soldiers can’t be that far behind. We’ve been ordered to to go ahead and assume our positions, the rest will evacuate.”

“Is that necessary?”

“For now, yes. For everyone else’s sake, they’ll only get in the way. Once we clean this mess up everyone will be escorted back. But we need you too, we can’t do it without you.”

“I understand,” Jungkook reluctantly said, “Thank you, Hoseok.”

You sat up in bed, the blanket tightly wrapped around your body as Jungkook came in. He looked distressed not because of the impending fight, that he was familiar with, but because you would be leaving. And while he wished he could trust you after what happened the night before, he knew that he couldn’t. When given the opportunity to flee, he was certain his little lamb would run for safer pastures.

He dressed you quickly, helping you pull on a long-sleeved shirt and a pair of pants, men’s clothing. You had never worn men’s clothing before.

“Easier to run in, if they come for you, you have to be ready to run.” He explained, bending down to help you lace up the boots on your feet.

“Don’t be afraid, Fang will protect you while I’m gone.”

“Fang?” You asked.

“My wolf.”

So, that was its name. How uncreative.

Jungkook paused, his brows pinched in stress as he looked at you. This was happening too quickly. He thought he had some time before Ilseong and his men would come, time that would get you to trust him.

He stepped forward, cradling your face before pressing his lips to yours again. You had found that each kiss with Jungkook was different and new. This one was desperate, this one felt like a promise, a promise to see you again.

“I love you,” He said, his dark eyes wide and glistening, “Come back to me.”

You could only stare back at him, you refused to make a promise you could not keep. You were going to try to leave if you could and you would not lie to him.

Fang was waiting outside, pacing impatiently and whining in the back of his throat. The Direwolf was agitated, you would be too if your home was burning.

“Follow him, he will take you somewhere safe. I will see you again, that is a promise.” Jungkook said before giving you one more final parting kiss and melting into the tree line.

Jungkook always followed through on his promises and his threats.

A few moments later you heard the cries of wounded men from the forest. The soldiers had arrived and they had not anticipated the reapers armed with bows and arrows high in the trees. It was foolish to try and ambush trained killers, that was something you had forgotten. The chances were that Jungkook would not die today, no, that army would. You had to move, now.

Fang moved swiftly beside you and, to your surprise, split off from the evacuating party. He was taking you somewhere else, perhaps a safe place the Jungkook had in case something like this were to happen. A place where he could find you again.

You were caught in a rock and a hard place. You had seen Fang tear into that reaper the night before, you had watched him consume him with no regret. He and Jungkook were bonded, but you were not. You did not want to test him and see if he would deliver upon you the same fate. It was another waiting game.

Your only other plan would be to follow him to the safe point and try and make your break from there. But, even then, you were certain that Direwolves had impeccable senses. And, like the reapers, Fang would have no problem hunting you.

The massive wolves' steps were hard to keep up with, you were practically jogging in an attempt to stay by his side. He was tense, his ears flicking now and then as he listened for a threat, his piercing blue eyes scanning the trees. Direwolves seemed far more human than regular wolves, especially with their intelligence.

Fang froze, sniffing the air rapidly before his hackles raised and a deep growl left him that was so loud it shook the ground beneath you. He backed up, his large body shielding your own as he waited for the threat to emerge.

And it was quite a threat. Lord Ilseong had not only sent one army but two. One surveying and burning one side of the forest, and another scouting the other side. And they too were armed, smaller than the other force, but still armed.

Fang lunged instantly, his jaw snapping down on three men at once and wildly shaking them around like they weighed nothing while blood and their screams filled the air.

And then you were off.

Once more, you had found yourself running for your life in the woods. Although this time you were much more efficient. The clothes Jungkook had given you were, in fact, much easier to run in. And now that the sun was out the forest was perfectly illuminated allowing you to see every fallen tree, root, and stump in your path.

You were going to run until you couldn’t anymore. This time, this time for sure you would make it out, you would be able to be free again.

At least, that was what you had thought, that was what you had hoped for. You had been wrong.

The trees were beginning to thin out, and what you had thought to be the clearing to a village turned out to be the small resting place of the noble army that had been abandoned save for guardsmen and of course, Lord Ilseong himself.

“My bride, there you are!” He called excitedly causing you to stumble backward, ready to begin running in the opposite direction but you were quickly stopped by his guards behind you.

“I have been looking all over for my pretty little bride, when my men found your carriage overturned we had assumed the worst.” He explained, coming to stand right in front of you leaving you with no exit to run to.

“What is this that you’re wearing?” He sneered, “What happened to the robes I sent you?”

He was more worried about the damn clothes than you, not that you cared at all what he felt for you but if he claimed to want you as his Lady you would think he would show an ounce of worry for your state of being.

“They were stolen from me, forgive me.” You said, your hands clenched into fists.

Lord Ilseong did not care, his beady eyes were still trained on the shirt and pants that donned your body.

“These are a man’s clothes!” He yelled, grasping the collar of the shirt and jerking it so strongly that it tore, the fabric falling to expose the column of your neck, your collarbones, and your left shoulder.

“Infidelity!” He screamed, rage burning red under his skin as he saw the marks that Jungkook had left the night before. A good portion of your body was littered with bruises but that spot was by far the worst, deep dark marks were clustered together along with a clear bite mark.

“It-it’s not what you think your grace!” You cried in an attempt to save yourself. Your eyes were burning and your heart was pounding, you knew what was going to come next.

“Do you know what the price of unfaithfulness is?” He hissed, his men forcing you down to your knees before him.

You whimpered as you heard the familiar sound of a sword being unsheathed, the metal glinting in the sun as it was passed to Ilseong.

“The penalty is death.”

You squeezed your eyes shut as warm tears attempted to fall. You refused to cry this time, you were done crying. And now, as you faced your certain death you refused to show this man your tears. This man was punishing you for a crime you did not commit against a relationship you did not have. A relationship you never wanted.

“What a shame, I had such high hopes for you, but you were just another common whore.” He seethed as he raised the sword above his head.

A sharp whistle shot by your ears and then another, the sound of something cutting through the air quickly. And almost immediately after two loud thuds sounded.

You cracked open your eyes to see the two guards laying limp on the forest floor, an arrow embedded in each of their throats. You peered over your shoulder and there, blending into the shadows of the trees sat a reaper high up in its branches. He was the man from this morning, Hoseok.

And if Hoseok was here, that meant -

Two more arrows sliced through the air, one piercing Ilseong’s left hand causing him to drop the sword and scream in pain only for another arrow to pierce his right hand. Both of his arms were spread out, each hand pinned to a tree and unable to move. He was defenseless.

Jungkook emerged from the shadows and behind him, Fang followed closely. Blood was matted into his fur, some was his own but the majority of it was not.

And Jungkook, he was trembling in rage.

“All you do is take. You took my mother from me, her life, my sibling's lives, and then you steal my wife from me not once but twice. Your judgment had been long awaited by not only myself but everyone under your rule.”

For the first time, Ilseong looked frightened like he was staring death in the face. Not unlike how you had been moments before.

“I promise you that I will take everything from you. Your riches, your land, and your life. That, that is the penalty for trying to murder another man’s wife.”

“J-Jungkook, I’m your father, have mercy, please!”

“Did you show my sisters mercy when you slaughtered them in their sleep? Or my brothers when you had your men shoot them down in the fields? Or my mother when you strangled her to death?!” He said, his voice growing louder and louder as his rage rolled off of him in waves.

“Please, I’ll give you whatever you want, anything!” Ilseong begged, his eyes wide in fright and panic.

“I want your life,” Jungkook said before picking up the sword from the ground and began hacking away without hesitation, once, twice, and three times until Ilseong’s head came lose from his neck and fell away his body going completely limp - only being held up by the arrows that still kept his decapitated body upright.

You couldn’t stop the raw scream that ripped freely from your throat. You had never seen a sight so horrific before, so violent and unforgiving. That image would forever be burned in your mind, haunting you each time to tried to sleep.

You watched in horror as Fang approached, grabbing what remained of Ilseong in his strong jaws and ripping his corpse free from the tree, dragging it back into the forest where he would no doubt be consumed.

“You shall reap what you sow.” Jungkook and Hoseok spoke in unison like it was a ritual.

Jungkook’s shoulders finally relaxed, the sword dropping from his hand as he turned to look at you. Blood was heavy on his face, covering the left side of it almost entirely. But he still smiled at you, the blood on his face making his teeth seem unbearably white only making your stomach turn ten times worse.

You whimpered in fright as he approached you, settling down in a crouch in front of you before tugging you into his arms. The scent of blood was ever stronger now as his hands smoothed up and down your back.

“Remember what I told you little lamb?” He grinned, “Without hesitation.”

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