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#bubble land au
taley-blue · 5 months
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True Ending
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softquietsteadylove · 6 months
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Gil surprised her with a matching look? She has a white nice dress and he shows up in a white suit? Would be a cool partner look =)
"Madame?"
Thena offered a tight smile as she picked up a glass of champagne off of a passing tray. "Merci."
She hadn't really wanted to come all the way here for this function, but it was insisted upon not only by her French diamond contact, but the entirety of his diamond house family. It was to seal their business, as well as act as a gesture of good will for future deals.
Karun told her she had to go, and Kingo doubled down, even telling her that she should 'lead him on a little more' for the sake of business. She attempted to ignore that.
She was an engaged woman.
She had told Gil she had to attend a meeting in France. But she knew that he was no fan of the monsieur with whom she had conducted business. In all fairness, she supposed she wouldn't be thrilled if he had to conduct business with the Little Heiress again. But she was here for tonight and then she could return home.
"Madame Glasse?"
She smiled as her business associate sat down adjacent to her. At least if she was seated or holding something, he didn't feel the need to kiss her hand. "It's a lovely soiree."
"You seem very," the gentleman looked around the sparkling ballroom, "isolated."
Thena inhaled, looking down at her don perignon. "Forgive me, monsieur, I have never been the life of the party."
"Ah," he offered a smile, adjusting the gold button of his beautiful blue suit. "You accepted my offer, but I think perhaps your heart is not here with us."
Her heart was in a penthouse apartment with a certain Tyrant King, who had probably fallen asleep on the couch in front of the Food Network. She should have just asked him to come with her, risk that he would start a fight be damned.
"Madame, would you grant me the privilege of speaking my mind with you?"
She gave him the faintest expression of surprise before nodding. Perhaps he wasn't as much of a dumb blonde - the irony of which did not escape her - as she had suspected.
"I admit I am quite taken with you," he expressed openly, leaning on the arm of his chair that was closer to her. He did have that sad, puppy-love expression on, too. "Positively enchante, truly."
Thena merely waited for him to go on.
"But as much as you did not tell me," his eyes drifted down, and to her hands, safely folded over her crossed legs. "You do not withhold your heart from me out of modesty, non?"
Thena adjusted her lace around her arms and in the crooks of her elbows. She didn't bother taking her ring off for the night. "Would that affect our business if I told you that you're right?"
He chuckled, although she could already see his disappointment. "But of course not. I am a gentleman, Madame Glasse, and I will honour our business just as you have. And I do have some brain under these looks."
Thena resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She knew it was in good humour, but few men were allowed to get away with cocky humour like that with her. One man in particular.
"I realise I am pursuing a woman who has already made her match," he sighed, leaning back again. His eyes flicked down, "it's a beautiful ring, cheri. They are small, but I can tell the quality of them is impeccable."
Thena smiled. The little diamonds in her ring, creating joints where the bands could meet in their weave, were indeed perfect in every way. "But of course; I am the diamond queen, after all."
"Indeed," her associate agreed, also plucking a glass of champagne for himself. He gave her a smile, "I am grateful that you came. But if you wish to leave, I will not hold it against you."
Oh, how she ached to be at home, in the arms of her Tyrant. But even with a private plane, the journey home was no quick hop across the pond.
"She should stay for a dance, at least."
"Gil!"
"Hey Princess," he greeted gently, despite her insistence that he not call her that in public. He bent over the arm of the chair, capturing her hand smoothly and pulling it up to his lips. "Miss me?"
He was like a knight in shining armour, and while she had never seen him in a white suit before, she didn't dislike it on him. She raised a brow, "new?"
"Like it?" he grinned as he pulled her to her feet, leading her closer to the dance floor. "I had my tailor whip it up just to surprise you."
Thena shook her head at him, her feet moving automatically as he led her until they could sway together, his hands holding hers and at her back. "When did you get here?"
"Not long ago, actually," he made a more sheepish face. "I got on a place a few hours after yours, after I picked up this number."
She smiled, running her hand over the lapel. "Did you want to match me so badly?"
"Well," he smiled as well, his eyes soft and reflecting the chandelier above them. "Can't let my wife show up to a fancy ball unaccompanied, can I?"
She refused to let him know how much she liked it when he called her his wife. "I did, though, didn't I?"
"Okay, so I was a little late," he huffed, rolling his eyes in good nature. He spun her around before pulling her closer, "I wasn't invited."
Thena stole a glance to the edge of the room, where her associate was excusing himself from the room entirely. "Last I checked, he was not in your good graces."
Gil shrugged, and her hand moved with the bounce of his massive shoulder as he did. "Just don't laugh at his jokes, Ice. Then we've got no problem."
She did not believe that. But perhaps she was too intoxicated by the warmth of him and the champagne she'd had. He pulled her nearly flush with him and she resisted the urge to lay her head on his chest.
"Sorry I'm late, baby," he whispered, sneaking a kiss to her temple while they were able to go unobserved. Or at least, unremarked upon, as far as this branch of society was concerned. They weren't exactly law abiding citizens, but this territory of Thena's was more about business than about brutality.
"You're forgiven," she sighed as she let him numb her overstimulated senses, "this time."
"This time?" he chuckled, and his chest bounced against hers from it.
"Just this time," she purred, running her hands over the front of his fine, white suit. "And this?"
Gil didn't even glance down as she tapped at the royal blue pocket square that screamed against the colour of the rest of his outfit. "Maybe a little bit of a challenge to French-y."
"So territorial," she murmured. She had to be careful not to sound like she enjoyed his territorial side; it would only encourage him.
Gilgamesh pulled her hand up his chest until he could kiss her fingertips, tapping against her ring as he did. "I think I have a right to be territorial about my own wife."
"We are not married."
"Yet," he nearly cut her off to insert. He smiled at her, still swaying them loosely to the beat of the band, "not yet. Anytime, any place, Ice."
"Hm," she sighed, the exhaustion of the business and the travel and the whole of the last few weeks weighing on her. She leaned against him heavier and he allowed it, holding her as much as she liked. "Not tonight."
"Fine," he chuckled, kissing her cheek this time. He stayed close, his nose dangerously near 'nuzzling' territory. "Wanna go home?"
"You just got here," she nearly groaned at the thought.
"Okay, so we get a room, spend a little time here before we go back?" he suggested. "We can take a long weekend in Paris, what do you think?"
She did not care what they did, so long as she didn't have to let go of him.
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as per earlier tag asides:
astronaut winston with an opaque / reflective helmet does a face reveal for merperson taylor, because they’re in love (and then they kiss)
prior art of this au
#not obvious but that's taylor's fins behind them in their own reflection....#ft'd in part for fun swoops; in part to draw fewer sparkles that can be stars or smthing else; in part to ft more of their oceanicness#not that winston's exactly Obviously the space cadet his is w/o context. giving him more of a like retrofuturistic helmet style#not to mention here he's in a hoodie still lol this is all like soft scimagic. ppl are floating in mediums between locations on land...#winston is an astronaut w/glasses....maybe he has a force field semipermeable bubble.#maybe it's both him controlling the permeation but other ppl can find it a Wall on their own prerogative....#[see those tags in that post] like same as how winston is controlling ''i'm taking off my helmet'' but also#he has to be Recognized by taylor first....validate winston; validate yourself#heart shaped visor thank you also....#also we can have the flipside of this moment in another tayston au: taylor has a sword (is a knight) (errant)#winston is their clairvoyant companion#i.e. taylor also could have a helmet to dramatically remove at some point. it can have a heart shape element to its design too#and then they kiss =]#going ''oh god it's been too long since i drew tayston'' then going ''you drew winston giving taylor head just the other week''#then going ''omg. hell yeah i did :')''#winston billions#tayston#corned beef#god it's 9am lol nonbinary bisexual autistics who've done an all nighter on niche fantascienza romance illustrations: go to bed challenge
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socksandbuttons · 1 year
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remembers the homestuck aus form many fandoms fondly
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undressrehearsal · 3 months
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dare to be stupid
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summary: a drunken game of truth or dare overtakes your study session
tags: NSFW, tlou au, college!ellie/reader, mentions of drugs, alcohol, drunk sex, oral (r receiving)
a/n: listen idk how this turned into 7.5k. idk what happened. also this is my first time writing smut. idk if the sex is good but it was already so long. if y'all like this one i'll write a sequel or something idk
part 2
“Truth or dare?” 
It had become a tradition for the two of you shortly after moving in together. It was common for the air in your tiny apartment to grow heavy, the stress and anxiety tangible in the air - often around midterms or finals, or if your roommate had a particularly infuriating project. During these times when the bags under your eyes grew too heavy to carry or the lines around your roommate's mouth deepened into canyons, one of you would barge into the other's bedroom - frequently in disarray with notes and textbooks strewn across every surface - slam a bottle of vodka down on the desk, and utter those stupid, little three words, and the game would begin.
And so you didn't even jump when you heard your bedroom door slam against the wall, heavy boots against the carpet. You had been bent over your desk for so long that your neck ached, your eyes swimming with letters that didn't quite make sense and didn't fit into any of the medical terms laid out on your flashcards. When Ellie slammed the bottle of vodka on your desk, you blinked your eyes clear and looked up to meet her eyes. 
She smirked when she said, ��Truth or dare?” 
You didn't waste time in clearing off your desk, shoving your books and cards aside into a toppling pile. Ellie, without waiting for permission, set a shot glass down in front of you, kicked off her boots, and plopped back onto your bed. 
Scooting your chair closer, you propped your feet up against the mattress, pursed your lips, and said, “Truth.” 
Ellie groaned, flopping over onto her side and propping her chin in her hand. She had stripped off her jacket, leaving her in a dark t-shirt that almost made her skin look pale in the low light from your desk lamp. “You're such a fucking pussy.” 
You rolled your eyes even as a grin pulled at your lips. “I've known you for too long, Els, and I know that I need a few shots before I'm willing to shove anything anywhere for your amusement. So, respectfully, eat my ass.” 
“You'll have to dare me to,” she quipped back immediately. She wrinkled her nose as you choked back a laugh, tapping a finger against her lips. You tried to ignore how endlessly cute it was as she said, “Where's the weirdest place you've pissed?” 
Another sound burst from your lips, some mixture of a laugh and a shout. You gaped at her, watching as a laugh crept up, a smile tugging at her lips. 
Shaking your head, you said, “Weird, but that's a pretty tame one. Not gonna ask me about my favorite sex position or if I ever snuck drugs into our dorm room last year?” 
Ellie only shrugged. “Gotta warm you up a bit first, babe.” You ignored the way your heart jumped at such an innocent word. After a moment's pause, she added, “But have you?” 
“You'll just have to ask me. One truth per round, bitch.” You pretended to think about it for a moment, though you already had your answer. “Okay, so you remember when we first signed the lease here and we were a bit short on rent?” 
Ellie nodded, her brows furrowed in confusion. 
“Like, a week before it was due, some girl on Tinder hit me up. She was passing through town and only staying for the night, and she was bored. So, she paid me.” 
Ellie's frown deepened. “To, what, have sex with her?” 
Laughter bubbled up your chest as you said, “No, she paid me to piss in her mouth.” 
There was silence for several long moments. Ellie’s jaw hung loose, her eyes wide as she simply stared at you. Several emotions flashed across her face like a movie reel - confusion, shock, disbelief - before finally landing on pure, unfiltered amusement. The corners of her lips quirked up, her open mouth turning up at the corners until a loud, sharp laugh burst from her throat. When Ellie laughed - really, truly laughed - she did it with her chest, a sound so fathomless and full it filled up whatever room she was in. 
In your small bedroom, her laughter bounced off the walls, echoing in the alley outside of your open window. You couldn’t contain your own giggles, muffling your laughter with a hand over your mouth, snorting as Ellie buried her face in your mattress. 
When she finally looked up, her eyes filled with tears, she only said, around her subdued giggles, “How much?” 
You grinned. “$200.” 
Ellie’s mouth fell open again - you’d have to pick it up from the floor at this rate. “Dude, you’re fucking with me.” 
“I swear,” you said, holding up your hand like a scout. “I’ll show you the Venmo if you don’t believe me.”
Ellie fell back against the bed, throwing her head back. “You have to go find this chick on Missed Connections, she can help with the rent.” 
You threw one of your pens at her. Catching it in midair, she stuck the end in her mouth to chew on it. You wrinkled your nose at her, but she only grinned, the pen hanging from the corner of her lips. 
“You're so gross,” you said, though you were still giggling. 
“Bold words from you, Piss Girl. That's, like, the worst superhero name in existence.” 
You threw your hands up, trying your hardest to glare at her and failing miserably. “Hey, $200 is $200. I'm not one to kinkshame.” Ellie threw the pen back at you. You grimaced when it hit your arm, leaving a small spot of spit on your sleeve before clattering to the floor. “God, it's your turn. Truth or dare, bitch?”
Propping herself up on her elbows, Ellie said, “Dare.” A grin pulled at her lips, her voice low as she added, “Because I'm not a fucking pussy.” You stuck your tongue out at her, ignoring her when she mockingly said, “Mature.” 
Your desk was pressed up next to the only window in the room, cracked open to let the cool autumn air in. Your curtains fluttered in the breeze, the dying sunlight creeping in, casting light like liquid gold over Ellie’s skin. As you thought, scrambling to think of a suitable dare, you could not control how your eyes grazed over her exposed skin, the sunlight dipping in her collarbones like pools of ichor. 
Blinking, you met her eyes once more, your throat tight. Your words came out almost choked when you said, “Okay, I dare you to make a spicy two-sentence story about something in this room.”
Ellie scoffed, sitting up and kicking her legs over the side of your bed. “I’m gonna take a wild guess that your drawer of sex toys is off limits?” 
You sputtered, stammering over your own tongue as you felt heat rush to your ears. “Yes, that’s off limits. You don’t even know what’s in there!” 
Ellie hummed, standing up from the bed and taking a few steps around the room. She didn’t look at you, but you could hear that fucking smirk when she said, “That’s what you think, babe.” 
You watched her, tracking her movements as she slowly stepped around your room, scanning for inspiration. Your bedroom was about what you’d expect from a broke, overworked college student - aside from the furniture that came with the place, it was pretty barren. Ellie scanned the little touches you did have - her finger traced over the Funko Pop of Zuko on your bedside table, her eyes lingering on the pile of fantasy books you kept atop your dresser. She smiled at the posters hung crookedly on your walls, depictions of your favorite video games. She hummed again, looking back at you over her shoulder. 
“So many options to choose from,” she murmured, running her finger along your jewelry box. She had her face turned away, so you could only see the corner of her smirk as she lifted the lid, pulling one of your necklaces from its home. You watched her warily as she approached you, the chain dangling from her slim fingers. She stepped behind you, out of your line of sight, and slipped the necklace over your head, the cold metal resting against your collarbone. 
“She looped the chain around her lover’s neck like a collar,” Ellie said. You felt her cool fingers against the back of your neck, hooking around the chain and pulling it gently against your throat. You coughed against the awkward silence; your roommate had always been a little handsy, but this was something else entirely. What the fuck is she doing? you thought. “She pulled it taut against her throat and leaned in to whisper,” you felt Ellie’s lips against your ear, her rough voice sending a chill up your spine when she murmured, “good girl.”
Reaching back, you shoved Ellie’s head away; her laughter echoed through the room as she rounded in front of you, sitting back against your bed and grinning. 
“Oh, you’re so fucking proud of yourself aren’t you?” you teased, trying - and failing - to keep your cheeks from turning red. Your skin felt aflame, a tingle lingering right where Ellie’s lips had pressed to your ear. You rubbed at the spot under the pretense of scratching your head, willing the feeling to go away. 
Your heart was pounding so hard you could hardly hear her when she said, “Hell yeah, I am. I should’ve been an English major. I could write a whole fucking slutty novel and get famous. I'm an expert - I've done enough research.” 
You rolled your eyes at her cocky smile, but Ellie only winked at you. 
This is how your truth or dare games went - with Ellie being far too cocky, prancing around doing whatever dares you could think of and asking any outrageous questions that popped into her pretty little head; and you, simply trying your damnedest to keep up with her. You flailed, flustered, when she asked you about your toy collection, and begrudgingly relented when she dared you to bring out your favorite. Ellie took a shot before you had even finished daring her to text her last hookup (“I’m not reopening that bag of crazy,” she said, scrunching her nose at the taste.) You took a shot when she dared you to go mix all of the liquids in the fridge (which included pickle juice, old broths, and orange juice) into one amalgamation and chug it (“I’d rather chug the rest of the vodka, Els.”) 
“Truth,” you said before Ellie could even ask the question. You were three shots in and could feel that lightness pressing against your temples, just at the threshold of tipsy. You had moved to join Ellie on your bed, where you sat with your back against the headboard and Ellie’s head on your thigh. The vodka bottle was balanced precariously between you. 
Ellie rolled her eyes, but looked up at you and asked, “Out of our friend group, who have you fantasized about the most?” 
She had not even finished her sentence before you served yourself a shot, a few drops splattering on your shirt. Wincing at the taste, you looked back down at Ellie; her eyes were lit up like a Christmas tree, her jaw slack.
“Don’t-” 
“You have to,” she interrupted you, pinching your thigh and grinning when you squirmed away. “You have to tell me. You can’t leave me hanging here - you didn’t even let me finish the question!” 
“Why did you even assume I’ve fantasized about any of our friends-” 
“Because I know you.” She was scrambling up now, unsteady in her movements as she came to her knees in front of you, leaning back against her heels. She planted a firm hand on your thigh - your skin was still warm where her head had been - leaning into it, her eyes drawing so close you could almost see every speck within the hazel. “And I know that bitches like us always have somebody in the group they fantasize about. So, who is it?” 
“Bitches like us?” you repeated, raising your brow. You were sure each line of her palm was going to be branded into your thigh. “So, there’s somebody you think about too?” 
Ellie’s smile was on the very edge of teasing, a small quirk at the corner of her lips that screamed at you just how wrapped around her finger you were - and, somehow, she didn’t even know it. Her voice was low, nothing more than a murmur that you could practically feel in your own chest when she said, “You really wanna know?” You didn’t answer - couldn’t, really, not when her fingers dug into your thigh and you could count each freckle across her nose. You couldn’t answer when she leaned in closer, her warm breath brushing against your cheeks, smelling of the weed you knew she had smoked that afternoon. You could hardly hear her over the rush of your own heart when she whispered, “You’ll just have to ask me.” 
Maybe it was the vodka warming your chest, tingling in your fingers - or maybe it was the way the light from your lamp cast sharp shadows across Ellie’s face, turning her skin into liquid gold - but you did not push her away. Your grip tightened around the neck of the bottle, but you held her gaze when you said, “Truth or dare, Els?” 
Her voice was soft, her half-lidded eyes holding yours as she said, “Truth.” 
“Who have you fantasized about?” The words rushed out of you before you could hesitate.
And for a moment, you believed she would answer. You let yourself believe that she would give you the answer you craved. It prickled at your skin, raising goosebumps along your arm, spreading warmth through your stomach. But your roommate had never been so straight-foward - had never given you an easy answer. She wet her lips, drawing your eyes to her mouth involuntarily, but she only pried the vodka bottle from your fingers. She held your gaze as she raised it to her lips, drinking straight from the bottle without even wincing. 
“I can play that game too, baby.” She backed away, finally giving you a moment to breathe. She settled back against the wall, laying her arms over her knees, the bottle dangling from her fingers. The skin of your thigh still burned, branded with her fingerprints. 
You looked away, huffing out a laugh that you prayed sounded sincere. You could feel her eyes on you when you leaned your head back against the wall, counting the cracks in your ceiling like they were the most interesting thing in the whole world. “It’s getting late, Els,” you said, even as your phone flashed that it wasn’t even nine yet and here you were, too many shots in, your roommate’s presence like a fire blazing in your room. “I should get back to studying.” 
“Do you want to, though?” There was an edge to Ellie’s voice, as though that question was a dare itself. You lifted your head to look at her and found that she was already watching you, her eyes soft in the dim light. 
You took a deep breath - and the vodka must have reached your brain, because before she could ask, you said, “Dare.”
You could see the vodka in the lazy tilt of her smile, in the way her head lolled against the wall. Her eyes were half-lidded, and yet there was something hidden behind her slow, sleepy gaze, something you were too afraid to name - something you were sure was only the imagination of your tipsy fantasies. 
“Close your eyes,” Ellie said, words lazily falling from her lips, as deep and rich as the strings of a guitar. 
It took you several moments longer than usual to process what she had said. Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion, as if the two of you were underwater. You shouldn't have felt like this after a few shots - you'd usually only be tipsy at this point. But something about the way the shadows dipped into Ellie's collarbones and the way her shirt rode up, exposing her boxers and the sharp cut of her hips, was intoxicating on its own. 
So it took you several long, heavy moments to say, “What?” 
She chuckled, but there was no malice behind it. There was something soft in the tilt of her head, the way she tilted her chin down to look at you through her lashes. Her hair fell in her face, brushing against her nose; you fought the urge to brush it away, knowing that if you did you wouldn't be able to stop yourself from running your fingers through her hair. You wouldn't be able to stop yourself from grabbing a fistful of the auburn strands- 
“Close your eyes,” she repeated in that same honey-thick voice, breaking you from your thoughts. “For thirty seconds. And don't open them no matter what.” When you only stared at her for several silent moments, she added, “How long have we been friends? Don't you trust me?” 
And the thing was, you did. You trusted her with your entire heart, and so you closed your eyes, and you waited. 
You felt the bed shift next to you but you did not open your eyes. You did not open them when you felt her long fingers grip your shoulder as she struggled to steady herself. You felt her hair first, fine strands brushing against your cheek, smelling of sweat and her shampoo. You did not open your eyes, even when you felt the gentle press of a warm mouth against the side of your neck. You hardly dared to even breathe, your hands tangling in your sheets, afraid that you would not be able to control yourself otherwise. You counted the long, torturous seconds, biting down on your lip when you felt Ellie’s mouth part, the warmth of her tongue pressing against your pulse. 
You had counted to twenty-six when she pulled away, a chill settling over your skin where that warmth had been only seconds ago. When you got to thirty, you opened your eyes to find that Ellie had settled back into her spot, leaning back against the wall. The only sign that she had even moved was the thin sheen over her lips, wet with her own saliva, and a small, pleased smirk. 
You did not allow yourself to think about it, ignoring the way your skin burned where she had touched you as though she were a wildfire. You sounded breathless even to your own ears when you said, in barely more than a whisper, “Truth or dare?” 
“Truth.”
“What are we doing here, Ellie?” The words were out before you could stop them, slipping from between your teeth and hanging in the air like helium. The words felt almost tangible, and yet you couldn't grasp them, couldn't draw them back into your throat. 
For a moment, you thought Ellie would grace you with an answer. She opened her mouth, and you thought maybe she would finally stop playing this game and let you breathe. Instead, just like before, she brought the bottle to her lips and held your gaze. You tried not to watch the way her throat moved as she swallowed. 
She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and recapped the bottle, settling it between you. “Truth or dare?” 
“Truth.” You felt you could no longer trust yourself with any dare she gave you. Your hands were already shaking from clenching the sheets.
“How would you rate your last kiss?” 
You squinted at her, confused by the innocence of the question after everything that had happened in the past hour (had it only been an hour?). “My last kiss was with that one girl I met at the bar a few weeks ago. She was drunk and way too sloppy, but she was hot. I guess I'd give it,” you paused, trying to remember the moment past the haze; you couldn't even remember the girl's name, “a six.” 
Ellie raised her eyebrows, her eyes widening. “A six?” She shook her head, clicking her tongue in disapproval. “You’ve got to be fucking with me. A girl like you deserves more than a six.” 
“A girl like me?” Your voice sounded deafening in the quiet. You thought it had started to rain; you could hear the pitter patter on your window, could see the way it broke up the streetlamps outside like a mosaic. 
Ellie was nodding almost absently, watching the rain. Her lips parted, and you didn’t expect her to hesitate before she said, “Yeah. A girl like you… deserves to be kissed like it’s the last gasp of air to someone drowning.” You watched her mouth as she spoke, even as your mind screamed at you to look away. You scolded yourself, screaming to end this now, but your body refused; it ached to draw her near, a tangible pain in your chest. “A girl like you should get one of those movie kisses - you know, like when the hero saves the day and shit and he kisses his girl and it’s like the world didn’t matter as long as he saved her. The kind that has the whole fucking theater holding their breath. A girl like you…. Fuck….” She trailed off her rambling. Ellie ran a rough hand through her hair, making the strands stick up at odd angles, and finally looked at you. There was a fire in her eyes, blazing in the dim light. “You deserve to be kissed like they’ll die if they can’t have you.” 
Something had stopped in your chest - maybe it was your breath, maybe it was your heart. Your blood rushed in your ears, and you feared the thrum of your heartbeat was so loud it filled your entire bedroom. Your traitorous heart pressed at your bedroom walls, filling up the space and leaving room for little else. 
Your voice was only a whisper, and you wanted to kick yourself when you said, “We should really go to bed. I have an exam tomorrow.” 
Your roommate pressed her lips together, and she did not break eye contact as she said, “Dare.” 
You shook your head, looking away from her to try, desperately, to break whatever spell had taken hold of you; but your eyes were drawn back to her as if she were the only fucking light in the dark. You had to get a hold of yourself before you did something you’d regret, but you felt intoxicated with something far stronger than the cheap vodka you had bought from Walmart. 
“You’re drunk, Els,” you said, and you sounded so breathless you may as well have given up then and there. 
Ellie leaned closer, holding your gaze, and you could see the exact shade of desire in her eyes. She was so fucking warm - your head spun from it, heat radiating from her skin when she planted a hand on the bed right next to your hip. Her wrist brushed against the bare skin under your shorts, and you felt her voice vibrating in your chest when she said, “Dare.” 
And it was like she had finally pulled the last fucking thread that made you unravel, because you couldn’t stop yourself - didn’t even think to - before you said, “Kiss me.” 
You only had a second to register the smile pulling at the edges of Ellie’s lips before she grabbed your face and pulled you in to smother it. You had never imagined what kissing Ellie would be like - had never allowed your imagination to wander so far over the edge - but she did not kiss like she was drowning. She kissed with the same slow gentleness as when she played the guitar, her long fingers plucking at the strings with the careful deliberation of a lover. 
And she felt so fucking warm. You were high with it; high with the heat radiating from her fingers pressed to your cheeks; high from the way her breath snaked past your parted lips, gentle huffs of warmth against your skin. Your head swam as you pressed into her, your hands tangling into the fabric of her shirt, fingers unsure even as you ached to pull her closer. 
Ellie pulled back for a moment - for only a moment, but each second her lips weren't on yours caused an ache in your chest. Her eyes hovered inches from yours, so fucking green it was dizzying - though you couldn't see much of the color passed the eclipse of her pupils. Her cheeks were flushed - from the vodka, from something else entirely - her freckles popping against the color. You could only imagine how you looked, could feel the desire written across every inch of your face. 
Your fists tightened in her shirt, and you used the leverage to pull her back into you; and suddenly, it felt like you were the one drowning. You couldn’t breathe as Ellie devoured you, the gentleness replaced with a hunger you hadn’t known lived inside her. She pressed her tongue against the seam of your mouth until you relented, opening up to her, a soft sound escaping your throat when her tongue ran along the roof of your mouth. 
That sound - nothing more than a breathy sigh - ignited something in Ellie. Suddenly, she was all teeth and tongue and hot, hot breath in your mouth, sucking your bottom lip between her teeth. She bit down when a shaky sigh forced its way from your throat, soothing it with her tongue and swallowing the moan it elicited. Her hands were in your hair, the strands twisted between her fingers, and when you bit down on her lip, she pulled - you gasped at the sharp pain on your scalp. 
“Fuck,” she cursed against your lips, and you could feel that single syllable, hot breath in your mouth that you wanted to swallow. She didn’t continue for a long time, couldn’t form any other words past the way her lips made you unravel. Her hands trailed down your shoulders, fingers grazing lightly over the bare skin of your arms, before finding your hips, gripping them in a vice and tugging you closer. “Fuck, come here,” she said, her voice nothing more than a low growl that you felt in your chest. 
And you were drunk - from the cheap vodka and sleep deprivation and Ellie. You were drunk on the way her eyes were eclipsed, her lips red and bitten and swollen, parted so you could feel each exhale against your cheeks. Her eyes were dark, hooded. Her fingers dug into your hips, and you were drunk, but shit, how the hell could you say no to her? How could you possibly say no when she was looking at you like she was starving? 
Her hands guided you closer so you swung a leg over her hips and settled in her lap, your hands braced on her shoulders. She leaned her head back against the wall and just looked at you for several long moments, biting down on her lip. You couldn’t stop watching her mouth, mesmerized as she said, “Fuck, look at you.” 
And then she was kissing you again, her hands gripping your hips like it was a lifeline. Your hands found their way to her hair, curling your fingers in the short locks, using it as leverage to pull her closer. You could feel how each point of your body fit into hers; your thighs against her legs, her hands curling perfectly over the swell of your hips. You could feel the swell of her breasts against your chest, and you so badly wanted to feel her skin against yours. You felt like you’d go crazy from the raw want radiating from your body. 
Ellie’s lips traced a map across your cheek, down your jawline. You tilted your head so she could kiss the hinge of your jaw, the spot right below your ear. She paused there, planting hot, open-mouth kisses across your neck, before her teeth bit down on that sensitive spot, pulling the skin into her mouth, and you practically melted into her. You couldn’t control the sounds falling from your lips like honey, gripping at her hair as she soothed the bruise with her tongue. 
“Ellie….” Your voice was nothing more than a whimper; you swallowed hard and tried again, pressing a hand firmly at her shoulder. “Ellie.” 
She only hummed against your skin, and you could feel the vibration against your pulse. The sound went straight to your stomach and dipped even lower when she bit at your collarbone. 
The next time you said her name, it came out as a moan; you cleared your throat. “We can’t do this - you’re drunk, Els.” 
Your roommate hummed again, but she relented, leaning her head back against the wall to look up at you. And - fuck. Her lips were red and swollen, still wet from the kiss. Her cheeks were flushed, and - God, her eyes. You had never understood the term bedroom eyes, but Ellie looked at you as though she wanted to devour you. Like any second her hands weren’t on you was torture. Like she wanted to bite and kiss and taste every inch of your skin. 
“Truth or dare,” she said, her voice so hoarse you had to clench your thighs around her hips. 
“What?” 
“Truth or dare,” she repeated, her eyes never leaving yours. And this wasn’t part of the game, but you played along anyway, unable and unwilling to tell her no. 
“Truth,” you sighed. 
One of Ellie’s hands traced up your side. She ran her fingers across your collarbone, up your throat, before stopping to cup your jaw, her skin rough against yours. “Do you want this?” 
You nodded, the vodka making it impossible to feel shy. 
“How long have you wanted this?” Ellie’s thumb pressed at the seam of your lips, and you let your mouth fall open. She watched, hypnotized, dipping just the tip of her thumb between your lips before withdrawing. 
It was against the rules - two questions for one truth - but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. “A long fucking time.” Your voice was weak and breathy, and you couldn’t bother to be embarrassed about that either. Your attention had narrowed in on Ellie, and the way her fingers skirted across your chest, the way her other hand gripped your hip - how you could feel the warmth of her thighs between your legs. 
Taking your chin in her hand, she drew you closer, and you could feel her lips moving against yours: “So what the hell is stopping us?” 
This time, when she kissed you, you did melt into her. You gripped her hair in your fists and swallowed the moan it drew from her, shivering when her teeth caught on your lip. She had both hands on your hips again, and she gripped them so hard you were sure you’d find bruises there in the morning in the shape of her fingers. She pulled you closer, pulling your hips down into her; the friction through your pajama shorts made you moan against her lips. 
And you decided to play her game. 
“Truth or dare?” you said, drawing away just enough to see the eclipse of her eyes. 
Ellie, always stubborn, murmured, “Dare.” 
You tugged at the hem of her shirt, your fingers brushing the warm skin beneath; you marveled at the shiver that ran through her body. You ducked your head to kiss along her jaw, pressing the words into her skin. “Take this off.” 
She didn’t waste any time tugging the shirt over her head, tossing it to the floor before skidding her fingers over the bare skin above your shorts. You lifted your arms and let her pull your shirt over your head before realizing you weren’t wearing anything beneath. Who wears a bra to study in their own apartment? 
But you didn’t have a moment to cover your body in embarrassment before Ellie’s lips were on you again, as if it pained her to not taste you for even a moment. Her hands spread across your back, pulling you into her as she peppered hot, open-mouthed kisses across your collar; you hissed when her teeth bit down over your collarbone, soothing the pain with her tongue. 
“Tell me to stop and I'll stop,” Ellie said, her voice muffled as she kissed down over your chest; you shivered when her teeth sank into the skin of your boob, sucking another bruise there. She certainly loved leaving her signature on any inch of your skin that her mouth could reach. 
You groaned low in your chest, your fingers tugging at her hair, pulling a gasp from her lips. You almost didn’t recognize your own voice - breathy and thick with desire - when you said, “Please don’t stop.” 
The next thing you knew, Ellie was shoving you off of her lap; your back hit the mattress, your head just barely missing the headboard, but you couldn’t even think about that. Your roommate was crawling over you, and you were hypnotized by the way her muscles tensed, her arms caging you against the bed. Her skin was fucking obscene, smooth plains stretching for miles, cast in liquid gold in the lamplight.
“God, look at you,” she said again, pressing a kiss to your clavicle. Her hand was like worn clay when it traced a teasing line over your hip. Her voice was muffled against your skin, but you caught the end of her sentence: “- so fucking pretty.” 
Your only response was a choked gasp when Ellie pressed the flat of her tongue to your nipple. You gripped her shoulder, feeling her lips close around you as she sucked your skin into her mouth; you winced when she released it, feeling her teeth graze maddeningly over your nipple. 
“Truth or dare?” she said into your skin, her voice vibrating in your bones. 
You groaned, gripping her shoulder when she licked a line over your other nipple. If you had thought about this (which, if anybody asked, you didn’t), you never would have imagined your roommate being such a fucking tease. 
She hummed, and you could feel the vibration in every nerve. For a moment, you couldn’t find your tongue, your voice caught in your chest until she released your skin with a pop of her lips. She looked up at you, batting her eyes, and dammit if your body didn’t arch, searching for her mouth again. 
Propping herself up on her elbows, she watched you through her lashes, an intoxicating smirk across her lips; they were still shining wetly. She broke you from your thoughts when she murmured, “Use your words, angel.” 
Your thighs clenched around her words, automatically and unconsciously. You were sure you could get drunk on the way her voice filled the room, rough and rich as the chords she played. It was through clenched teeth that you said, setting your pride aside, “Dare.” Your cheeks burned when it came out as a moan. 
You could feel her smile against your skin as she kissed down your stomach, silent for several long, torturous moments. You felt her teeth sink into your hip bone briefly, your hips jerking at the sensation. It earned you a chuckle before you felt Ellie’s hands pressing your hips into the mattress, holding you still. You groaned low in your throat when you felt her tongue against the skin over the band of your shorts, licking a stripe right above the fabric before taking the elastic between her teeth and tugging. You jumped when she released it, the band snapping back against your skin. You didn’t have to look at her to see the sparkle in her eye. 
You swore your heart stopped completely when she murmured, “I wanna go down on you.” 
Despite this game she was insistent on playing, it wasn’t said like a dare; it was said like a question, or a request. There was no expectation behind it. Ellie was asking, you realized with dizzying satisfation, for permission. 
“Fuck.” It came out as only a breath, a whisper against your tongue. Your fingers ached from gripping the sheets and she hadn’t even touched you yet. “Fuck,” you tried again, and it was a groan this time but at least it was louder. “Yeah. Yeah, please, fuck.” Words were just falling from your lips because when you looked down, Ellie - your roommate, your friend - was watching you, propped between your legs with that fucking smirk, and how could you possibly string together a complete sentence? 
And Ellie… didn’t. She didn’t follow up on her dare. Not immediately, at least. No, she took her sweet fucking time - always so damn precise, taking her time in hooking her fingers over the band of your shorts. She pulled them down so slowly you could feel every inch down your legs. And then you were lying beneath your roommate in nothing but your underwear - and dammit, if you had known this would be happening, you would have opted for something a little sexier than a cotton pair with constellations on them. 
Ellie smiled. “Cute,” she said, before sinking her teeth into the flesh of your thigh. You were thankful it was cold out - you’d have to wear layers to hide all the places her mouth had been. 
Your roommate ducked her head, and you gasped when you felt her press a featherlight kiss against the fabric of your underwear, right where warmth pooled between your legs. 
You huffed, twisting the sheets between your fingers. “God, you’re such an asshole - fuck-” You were cut off when Ellie licked a stripe up your panties, warm tongue pressing against your throbbing clit. You moaned at the relief, feeling the wetness of her mouth through the fabric. It wasn’t enough - you needed to feel her against you, needed her tongue to unravel you piece by piece. You pressed your hips down against her lips but her hands held you in place. 
You huffed out a breath, her name slipping from your lips when you moaned. “Ellie….” 
And then she was yanking your underwear down your hips; you gasped, lifting your ass to help her shove them down. She had only gotten them just below your knees before she was pressing back in, too impatient to finish the job. 
And - fuck, her mouth. Ellie’s mouth was fucking magic. You moaned into the quiet room when she pressed the flat of her tongue against your pussy, licking a stripe between your lips. You couldn’t control the curses slipping between your teeth when her tongue made teasing circles around your clit until you were whimpering, aching for her. She had released your hips to dig her fingers into your thighs, nails digging in, and you’d surely have crescent-shaped bruises there tomorrow - even more to cover up. You pressed your hips down against her, groaning, her name only a whisper: “Fuck, Els-” 
And then she finally, finally, gave you what you wanted. 
Ellie ate pussy like it was her fucking job, like she was clocking into a shift and working her ass off for those tips. She lapped at your clit like she was starving, pressing her lips against you until you were dizzy, your entire body tuned in to the warmth of her tongue and the gentle graze of her teeth. You shuddered when you felt that tongue press into your core, a brief pressure that pulled curses from your lips, words tripping over each other: “Ah - fuck - fuck, Ellie - oh my God, fuck-” 
It didn’t take long for tension to build in your stomach. You were intoxicated; you were tipsy, yes, but something about the way Ellie moved her tongue - long, slow circles around your clit, using the flat of her tongue to draw you closer to the edge - was like a damn drug. You got what you wanted: She unraveled you with her tongue, tugging curses from your lips. You could hear your own moans echoing against your quiet bedroom and you couldn’t even feel embarrassed about it. 
Ellie took your clit between her lips and sucked, pulling you into her mouth and-
A long, low moan pulled at your throat when you came. Your hand came up to grip at her hair, fingers twisting in the soft strands. She moaned when you pulled, and the vibration against every nerve pushed you further; you could feel your orgasm in your chest, could feel it trembling in your thighs. 
Ellie worked you through it, her tongue dancing against you as you rode out your high. She didn’t stop, pressing her lips against you, dipping her tongue into your core again, until you were shoving against her head, your hips bucking at the sensitivity. 
When she raised her head, she was grinning, that wicked, infuriating grin she always had when she was pleased with herself. She rested her head against your thigh for a moment, watching you as you blinked the stars from your eyes. You relaxed your fingers in her hair, smoothing your thumb across her temple. 
The only thing you could say, breathless and dizzy, was, “Fuck, Els. What the fuck?” 
Ellie laughed, the sound unarming the silence around you, the anxiety of what this meant. She pressed a kiss to your thigh, right over the little indentations where her nails had dug into the flesh, and just said, “Yeah?” 
You giggled, tugging at her hair gently. You looked down at your roommate - and you didn’t know what this meant for the two of you, but that could be a problem for tomorrow, when you weren’t drunk and sleep-deprived and naked beneath your friend. For now, you only said, “Truth or dare?” 
Ellie blinked, raising an eyebrow, and said, “Truth.” 
You considered not asking for a moment, unsure if you wanted to know, but curiosity pressed at you until you asked, “What do I taste like?”
The grin spread wider, Ellie’s eyes sparkling as she pushed herself up. She crawled up your body, taking a moment to press a kiss to your stomach, to the bruises she had left littered across your chest - you moaned when she took a nipple briefly into her mouth. She kissed her way up your neck, across your jaw, sucking at the skin beneath your ear - another fucking bruise to worry about. God, it was like she wanted her signature on you, branded in every inch of your skin. 
Her face hovered an inch above yours, propping herself up on her elbows, smirking. She leaned in close, leaving room for you to turn away if you wanted. Instead, you tilted your chin up and kissed her again. 
You wrinkled your nose at the metallic taste of yourself against her lips. You didn’t like it, the way your own scent wafted over you. But fuck if you didn’t open your mouth when you felt Ellie’s tongue pressing at the seam of your lips. She moaned when your tongue ran along the roof of her mouth, pressing into the taste of you. 
When she pulled back, her eyes were soft, her cheeks flushed. “Like that.” 
You rolled your eyes, turning your face away; you had to admit, even if you hated how you tasted - tasting yourself against her tongue sent a wave of heat between your legs all over again. You only said, “Gross.” 
Ellie leaned in again, and you felt her lips ghosting against your jaw. You felt her breath against your skin when she whispered, “Truth or dare?” 
You lifted your chin to give her access to your neck, sighing when she pressed a kiss against your pulse. “Truth.” 
Her breath huffed against you when she chuckled before raising her head to meet your eyes again, that same cocky smile spread across her lips. “Was that better than a six?” 
“Oh, fuck off.” You shoved against her until she rolled off of you. 
She flopped back against the mattress, still laughing, but she was holding her arm out for you. You only hesitated for a moment - but even if she was your roommate, she just made you see stars, so it’s not like cuddling would push against the boundary you had already broken. You curled into her, laying your head on her chest, the sports bra she was still wearing soft against your cheek.
You sighed, skimming your fingertips against the warm skin of her stomach. “Yeah,” you whispered before you could stop yourself. “Definitely better than a six.” 
You were starting to fall asleep, your eyes growing heavy, your study notes effectively forgotten. You burrowed into her further, wrapping your arm around her and pressing your fingers against her hip. You briefly wondered where the vodka bottle had ended up in the mess, but Ellie didn’t seem in any particular hurry to untangle herself from you, so you figured it could wait - surely it would be okay if she slept in your room for one night.
Just before you dozed off, you heard Ellie murmur, “You left the window open.” 
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harrysonlylover · 3 months
Text
Insatiable*
Short smutty blurb based off this gif!
Wc: 1.2k
Warnings: degradation, unprotected sex, slightly mean dom h.
Trope: no specific AU
Masterlist
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Harry is ascending to heaven, he’s sure of that.
He must be one of the lucky ones who were chosen to be blessed in their lifetime. He can’t quite remember what good deed he did to deserve this—but he’s not letting her get away.
His ears were ringing and he felt dizzy, almost lost himself for a hot minute before remembering to keep his eyes on her. It would be a shame to close them.
His eyes couldn’t get enough of staring at her perfect body, right in front of him.
“So fucking beautiful.” He panted, his hands frantically roaming her skin.
She only responded with a soft whine, trying to keep up and ignore the cramping in her legs. She needed his cock, needed to ride him, no matter how tiring. She wanted to show him that she’s his good girl and that she can work for his cock to earn it.
It was hitting her sweet spongy spot, daring her to fall against Harry’s chest and beg him to fuck her.
But no, she bounced like a good girl on his creamy cock that was shining with a mix of their juices. She felt like their lower bodies were on fire—the heat bubbling up in her core was euphoric.
“Pretty girl showing daddy how much she loves his cock.” He praised her, moving a few hair strands from her face, before patting her head.
Damn right, she loved it.
The sound of skin slapping and her soft whines had him rolling his eyes. But again—he couldn’t keep his eyes away for too long. Her breasts were in his face, jiggling with every bounce, begging him to knead them and have a taste.
He untied her hair allowing it to cascade down her back. He adored her hair and loved giving her head scratches, but most importantly he craved pulling it while he thrusted into her from behind.
“Gonna light me up with how warm your pussy is baby.” His raspy voice wasn’t helping her neediness, after all, she was in desperate need of his cock.
“N-need it.” She managed to confess through ragged breathing. The view he had may be sinful, but hers is sending her straight to hell.
He was laid back against the headboard, a hint of a grin spread across his pretty face. His beard was still covered in her cum from when he worshipped her earlier.
His hair, so messy from the tugging yet still curly. She couldn’t help but glance down at his chest, a line of sweat trailing down to his chiseled abs that contracted under the dim light.
Not only can she feel how wet and messy they are but she can also hear it. In fact, his pelvis was already coated.
His pupils were blown and his lips were slightly parted in awe. He raked his eyes quickly from where they were connected, watching her sink on his length, to her gorgeous face and chest.
But—he can’t quite forget the setup he made. He placed a tall mirror behind them, so he can glance at it and get a good view of her back and ass that was red.
“Is that all you got princess, hmm? Thought you were my good girl.” He landed a harsh slap on her already sensitive cheeks.
“I—am.” He swore that she almost cried right there and then. He knew how uncomfortable the position must be and still—she fastened her pace.
“Shhhh baby, just take my cock. It’ll help your greedy cunt to rest.” He mocked, not forgetting to degrade her for her sigh of relief once he pushed inside—it was like her cunt needed his cock to survive.
His hands roamed her back which arched when he purposely thrusted all of a sudden. Her head rolled backward as she clenched on his swollen cock.
She was his fucking sex goddess.
He couldn’t stop exploring her back as his ears listened to her beautiful whines and whimpers. He initially mocked her, asking her if she was ovulating—but maybe her pussy is just made for his cock.
He could tell that she was starting to get tired, her forehead dropped against his as she panted and held eye contact with him. His hand rested on her ass, rubbing over the red skin.
“Poor bunny, got tired already?” She nodded quickly, slowing down her pace.
“Then I should make use of this hole, right?” His deep voice went straight to her core as she whispered ‘Please Daddy.”
He really felt like passing out from how good she felt, so warm and wet. Just for him.
He dug his heels into the mattress and placed his hands on her bruised hips before grinning at her and thrusting inside her.
“Need to do everything for you.” His thrusts were rough, and she could feel him in her stomach.
“Always have to fuck this cunt or else you’ll drool like a puppy in heat.” The degrading went through her brain, making her moan like crazy.
He was feral with his pounding, she knew that she’d be sore for days to come. But she also knew that he would kiss her pussy to ease the pain.
She already came twice, almost came for the third time from riding him but she couldn’t continue. With his current rough force, she won’t last long.
He was so raw and primal—his tongue nipped at her skin, just anywhere. She could feel his rapid heartbeats, the thickness of his swollen length pulsing inside her as he fucked her repeatedly.
And god—don’t even ask her about his naked body, how his thighs and pelvis would look right now, all wet and coated from her juices. If she wasn’t already wrecked—he’d ask her to clean it up with her tongue.
“Cum inside me.” She begged as she held his face in her hands.
“Yeah? Is that what you want? My hot load inside of your cunt?” He teased, giving her deep slow thrusts.
“Yes—Daddy.”
“Hmm, maybe that’ll tame your pussy.” He pulled her hair roughly, and the sting of her scalp combined with his creamy cock was enough to tip her over the edge.
She trembled on his length, nails digging into his skin as she moaned his name like a mantra. His orgasm followed hers in a few seconds, unable to resist the clenching and pulsing of her warm pussy.
His hot cum painted her walls white, prompting them to moan louder as they kissed. The feeling of his cum deep inside her was like nothing else.
“My baby, so good for me.” He held her against his chest, as he pressed kisses to her face.
Sweat adorned their bodies and the smell of sex filled the room. He rubbed soothing patterns on her back before whispering to remind her of the bubble bath they had to take.
She simply replied by leaving a peck on his lips and moving herself again on his sensitive cock.
An insatiable little devil. ——————————————————
Taglist: @prettythingsworld-blog @slut4marvelmenn @cherrycokeslay @wandas-lawyer @tbsloneely @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @missmielyhoran @harryssideboob @harrysficreblog @itslottiehere @hsonlyangelxo @gem1712 @adachhi @tpwkkkkk @hrryberry @summertime-pills @lhhrryismyhome @marzhshaim @harrystylessslut @keepdrivingkisses @rideeonstyles @matildasatellite @a-strange-familiar @greivingfortheliving @babyyangel111 @soblavk @straightnogayhs @awesomenavy @infinatetatie @be-with-me-so-happily @harrysrockstarsgf @cherrys4suckers @straightontilmornin @stilesissaved
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Text
Thunderous
Pairing: Fem!Reader x Bang Chan
Word Count: 11K
Genre: Werewolf AU! Royalty AU!
Warnings: There are some elements of non-con in this fanfic. Please don’t read if you don’t like those elements. Mentions of knotting and rough sex. There’s also a lot of explicit smut and language throughout.
Summary: The Wolf King’s name seared your heart. You had been chosen as the youngest and most expendable daughter to be his mate. But you were terrified of the legends surrounding his bloody campaigns. How were you going to survive?
Tag List: @armystay89 @captainchrisstan @starseekersworld @melsunshine @kibs-and-bits
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The Wolf King’s name whispered through the trees and hummed between the villages like the ancient stories of the gods.
Some of the villagers claimed that he could transform—bones cracking and teeth elongating until there was no man left. They said his claws could cut through trees and that his howl silenced the instincts of the mountain lions who cowered in their dens. In place of human skin, fur sprouted thick and rough, darkening until it matched the color of the shadows.
The myth and lore had been passed down for years, and you found yourself on the receiving end of all those stories. As the Wolf King’s future mate, you had also become something of an enigma around the kingdom. People looked at you with a glint of respect, bowing their heads and moving out of your way whenever you made your rounds. 
The attention that you hated. Especially when the marriage had been arranged without your willing compliance. Young girl fantasies of handsome princes and distant lands vanquished in an instant. But even if you couldn’t indulge in happiness anymore, there had been a time when you allowed yourself to dream about your wedding. 
Bubbling colors of red and green—like your kingdom’s annual yuletide celebrations—and a long, flowing white gown extending across the floor like an elegant brush of paint. Pure as you had always been. There was beautiful music in your dream, and a gorgeous prince to take you into his arms and glide you across the floor like the clouds moving in the sky.
Fantasies, indeed.
Instead, of merriment and goodwill, you found yourself trembling from head to toe, holding tight to the sleeve of your handmaiden’s gown as she escorted you through the recital hall, down the aisle to where you recognized the Wolf King waiting.
You had only met him twice before. Once, when you had just turned twelve, on the day your families agreed to meet over the prospect of securing peace between your rival kingdoms.
When you were both little children, the Wolf King had no reputation. He was just a boy, and you greeted him with a smile—ignorant of the true purpose of your first meeting. While your parents talked about the future, you showed the Wolf King your favorite flowers, handing him individual stems while your mother bargained your life away:
“A union is our commitment to peace,” your mother had once proclaimed, reaching out to softly pat your curls. “We think they’ll do well together.”
“Yes.” But Chan’s mother didn’t seem convinced. She was an elegant and beautiful woman with long black hair and bright red eyes to match his defining features. “Chan will decide who he wants to marry,” his mother said.
“Y/N will make a good wife when she comes of age,” your mother insisted. “We’ll hire the best teachers to ensure that she is prepared for her duties.”
“That matters little to us,” Chan’s father spoke, and he regarded you like one might grimace at an annoying ant to step on.
You shied away from his intimidating stare, looking instead at Chan as he designed a flower crown for you, placing it on top of your head with a proud smile.
It was the last time he would ever show such kindness.
Over the years proceding your first meeting, Chan became a man, and his reputation for ruthlessness and fury ignited a storm of gossip. 
“The Wolf King stands taller than the gods!”
“The Wolf King slaughtered a village because they refused to bow down to him!”
“He’s a monster! Have mercy on us all!”
You became terrified at any mention of the Wolf King, wondering if your parents were still serious about a union. You found out the hard way when your mother invited the Wolf King and his generals to your kingdom. But you didn’t stick around for very long.
The next time you met, you were sixteen, and you ran away to the gardens in a rare show of rebellion against your parents who had expected you to dress pretty and show off for Chan.
But that wasn’t in your nature, and your instincts screamed at you to avoid the Wolf King. And you thought that you were alone in the forest. Surrounded by the quiet of the thick foliage. But then you heard the bushes move, and you noticed a large black head peering at you with piercing red eyes.
You relaxed when you realized that it was just a common wolf—probably one from the mountain packs, and you weren’t frightened. Animals had always held a special place in your heart, and you approached the wolf with palms upturned to show your peaceful intentions. The wolf never moved, and you stroked your fingers through the coarse fur on his head. 
You returned home that evening thinking your father would scold you for running off like that. But you were instead warmly greeted by your parents who were both ecstatic. “He agreed to marry you, Y/N!” your mother exclaimed. “Isn’t that wonderful?”
It wasn’t.
Not at all.
And you had never experienced real fear in your entire life. But walking down the aisle in the chapel to where the fearless Wolf King waited for you, there was a bone-chilling tremble aching down your spine.
“So beautiful,” you heard faint whispers join together, urging you closer and closer to the Wolf King who gazed at you with the most intense stare you had ever received.
When you were within earshot, the Wolf King snatched your hand from the poor handmaiden who had been helping you walk down the aisle.
The girl quickly jumped to the side, bowing her head as the Wolf King forced you to stand in front of him, reaching down for your other hand. You reluctantly gave it to him, still looking at everything except for the Wolf King’s eyes, even if the little growl he gave showed that he disapproved.
You could hear your mother’s chastising voice in your head, scolding you for not pleasing the King. But you didn’t care anymore. Wasn’t it enough that you were standing there, giving your life away to a monster?
In the distant background, you could hear the priest delivering his lines, and when it was your turn, you gave your vow of allegiance, even if the words fell hot like acid from your unwilling tongue.
Thankfully, the ceremony did not require you to kiss him, dodging his wayward lips when they fell too close to yours. 
There was a rush when the proceedings concluded, the firm ushering of hands leading you out of the chapel. You stumbled in your heels, bringing yourself inadvertently closer to the Wolf King who held tighter to your waist. You did not enjoy the closeness, swallowing down your nerves as you tried not to think about what came next.
The crowd eventually parted, giving you enough space to walk down the steps in the open air, briefly acknowledging the cheering crowd spread through the streets. There was a distinct awe in the noise from the people around you, clambering over one another to get a good like at yourself and the predator who would soon claim you for his own. Wanting to acquaint themselves with your kingdom’s bargaining chip—a small sacrifice to ensure an alliance between your people and the ones who fought under Chan’s domain.
On paper, it seemed like a worthy solution to helping your kingdom protect its borders and fight off invaders. The problem was that you felt the weight of pleasing a man you had no interest in—someone who frightened you to your core. A sick knot tightened in your guts and your stomach clenched tighter as Chan led you to Castle Miroh—the notorious landmark of his territory symbolizing the power of the ruling family.
As the main doors parted, you winced at the sensation of the cold and harsh air inside, and a shiver passed down your spine as you forced yourself to keep up with Chan’s incessant pace, footsteps clacking against marble. It was dark in the corridors, and the only lighting came from the flames ensconced along the walls, casting everything in shadows. Ahead in the distance, you could see the outline of a grand staircase, and your eyes worked tirelessly to mark each step on your darkened path.
It turned out that Chan kept his quarters on the highest floor, latching your fingers together the entire time, even as you forced down the bile permanently hitched at the back of your throat at the thought of all the blood that had stained those hands. 
At the top of the staircase, you were pulled to the left, marching down an impressive corridor with a soft, velvet carpet beneath your soles. Eventually, you found yourself in front of a large, wooden door, and Chan ushered you through the frame, a hand to your lower back as your eyes paused on the King-sized bed waiting beneath an unholy painting of a bloody battle scene.
You will present yourself to the Wolf King, you recalled the words of your tutor. He will expect obedience from his mate.
You blinked away tears, knowing what you were expected to do next, and deciding to push through your nerves before you lost the contents of your stomach on the floor. Every fiber of your being screamed at you to run, but you ignored your instincts, loosening the straps of your dress to allow it to pool into a mess on the floor at your feet, and kicking it aside as you eliminated the remaining distance to the bed. 
You didn’t want to show him that you were weak. That he had any sort of influence that might condemn you a coward. You could not be seen as pathetic in the eyes of a monster, crawling on hands and knees to the center of the bed, head ducked down between your trembling arms and waiting.
Your breath caught when the bed dipped beneath his weight, and you gritted your teeth, feeling his hands take your hips with a powerful grip, nails digging into the soft skin.
The Wolf King will fuck you, your tutor had said, Then he will bite you to complete the mating ritual.
You had seen the Wolf King’s teeth. Sharp like razors and pointed at the ends. You would be a bloody mess at the end of this, but no one could ever accuse you of shirking your responsibilities. You had done everything expected of you, holding on to this thought of solace as you waited for him to take his fill.
“Don’t,” he abruptly whispered, startling you as he laid down on the mattress at your side, closing his eyes and letting out a grumble, completely unbothered with his own nakedness. 
It must’ve happened while you were turned away, but it was still jarring to see so much pale skin on display, marred with jagged scars and scarlet bruises. Eyes trailing over the swell of his chest, over the ridges of his abs, and down to this impressive cock. 
You swallowed hard. “Aren’t you going to fuck me?”
“No,” Chan said, chest deflating. “You do not want that.”
His response surprised you, and you wanted nothing more than to hurriedly tuck the sheet around your body to hide you from him. “I thought you were meant to-”
“We are equals,” Chan interrupted with a much firmer tone. “And you are afraid.”
Equals? The word didn’t seem right coming from him, but you weren’t about to question what was seemingly amounting to an act of mercy. Quick as a flash, you had the sheet bundled against your chest, eyes wide as you looked him over. “The mating-”
“We can do the bite,” Chan continued as if he didn’t care that he wasn’t fulfilling the only purpose you had been given. “But in the morning. The celebrations earlier exhausted me. Such frivolous trivialities.”
“Won’t they notice-”
“Who are they?” Chan barked with a hint of a growl that had you flinching. “There is no one who orders the King around.”
His dark pupils met yours in the dark, searching for something. You swallowed hard, unsure what he was looking for, but focusing on the calming sensation of relief flooding your system at his unexpected mercy. “Thank you.”
He gave a curt nod, dipping his head to the space next to him. “Sleep.”
You obeyed, wondering if you could sleep next to him, even if he had shown you some degree of kindness. It still didn’t erase his bloody reputation, and it worried you to no end that you would be sleeping next to a killer. Born to fight his way to power and rule over his kind. 
You took a deep breath, holding tight to the sheet, and closing your eyes. Perhaps it was the roller coaster of emotions weighing down on you from the day’s events, but you did manage to find sleep, even if it was troubled. Nightmares of wolves following you through the woods, red irises piercing you from the shelter of the trees, and claws slicing through flesh. 
You gasped when your eyes sprung open against an onslaught of bright, morning light, heart palpitating in your chest when you met those same eyes looking down at you from above. Chan was a step ahead of you as if he could predict your movements, grabbing your hands in one of his own to hold them above your head. One of his powerful thighs slung across your lower body, holding you in place with a strength that ignited a fire of burning adrenaline. 
“Hold still,” he said, giving you no other warning before teeth sank into the side of your neck, and your body panicked, fighting against him. Like he might take a chunk out of your neck and leave you on the bed to bleed out. Crimson against the cream-colored sheets. 
Immediately, a pulsating shock erupted from the site of the wound, forcing a scream from between your lips at the overwhelming pain. “I know,” he said, and it was barely discernible over the sounds of your cries, unashamed to lose all inhibitions at the sensation of a pain you had never experienced before.
The Wolf King moved over top of you, and you flinched when you felt his tongue start to lap at the painful bite mark on your shoulder. “The pain will stop soon,” he said. “I’m sorry you have to suffer.”
You held back a whine, digging your nails into the soft flesh of your palms. You supposed he had helped the sting, but it still felt like a piece of glass was being sliced across your skin. Even if the guilt and remorse in his gaze were almost enough to distract you.
“Relax,” he soothed, releasing your hands which instinctively went to wipe at your eyes, drying the salty wetness that had accumulated. 
“I- I can’t...”
“You can because you are mine now,” he declared in a tone that had a different flame sparking in your chest. 
You nodded against the pain, focusing on taking deep breaths, and letting darkness take you under once more.
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When you woke again, the King was ready for you. He explained that you were needed in the Throne Room to meet some important people. It turned out that the King had three brothers. They were all younger than him. Or so you had been told.
Their names were Felix, Seungmin, and Jeongin. Feared and revered for their triumphs in battle.
Your Wolf King seemed proud to show them off, standing before you in an organized line: from oldest to youngest.
Felix reminded you of your own cousins, with his lithe figure, so much different from the King’s own bulk, and a head of flaming orange-red hair. 
Next to him, in the middle, stood Seungmin. Dressed in dark clothes that only made his already dark hair even more onyx-black. Bright green eyes appraising you slowly.
Finally, there was Jeongin. The tallest of the three. And sporting the same dark-colored hair as his middle brother. He seemed to be the most innocent, eyes wide with wonder.
“They are here to support you,” Chan went on after introductions had passed. “Call on them if you need any help.”
Unlikely, but you forced a nod nonetheless.
“You are dismissed,” Chan informed them after you gave your acquiescence, and you watched them retreat in the same formation down the hall.
In their stead approached a shorter man, dressed in full battle attire. Well-muscled to stretch the fabric of his shirt and pants, with serious dark eyes. “My King,” the man said, bowing once. “You are needed on the training fields.”
You flinched when the man’s eyes found your neck, likely noting the swollen mess that Chan had left behind. “I’ll be there shortly, Changbin,” Chan said, and he waited until the man was gone before looking at you. “The Castle is yours, my Queen. Feel free to look around and acquaint yourself with your new home.”
“I will,” you whispered, forcing yourself to stay still when he leaned in to press a chaste kiss to your forehead. 
“Tonight, we can eat together,” came his parting words, and you grimaced at the idea of sharing a meal with him. 
But the concept of sharing a meal with him was nowhere near as horrible as the idea that this place could ever be considered your home. What a nasty thought! This place was nothing more than a prison forced upon you because your parents were desperate for Chan’s allegiance.
“Why did he agree?” you huffed to yourself, spinning on your heel to start the trek back to your room—as much as you could remember. “Leaving me here as if I know where anything is!”
For months leading up to your shared nuptials, you had pondered the reason why the powerful Wolf King had even agreed to marry you in the first place. Neither of your meetings had been particularly impactful, and your Kingdom had nothing to benefit his own; in fact, your alliance was more of a detriment to Chan and his people—a burden that he willingly took on.
You turned the corner to the last corridor, grateful that you had managed to retrace your steps, faltering when you noticed something on the floor outside of your door. You kneeled to retrieve it, glancing at the writing and noting with a happy hum that it was addressed from the Northern Highlands!
“Grace!” you exclaimed, clutching the envelope to your chest as you quickly rushed inside your room, glancing back to ensure the door was locked before hopping onto the bed to rip the contents open.
Dear Y/N,
Congratulations on your marriage to Bang Chan - it will be a strong alliance for our parents and their Kingdom. 
I apologize for my absence - Hyunjin was unable to make the accommodations.
As you know, snowfall comes to the Highlands in the upcoming months. It will soon be impossible for me to journey to you, or for you to make the journey here. I’d love to see you and your new husband before it is difficult to do so.
Please write to me when you can to arrange a visit.
Lovingly,
Grace
You read over the letter twice before releasing a deep sigh. Would your Wolf King even indulge in such a trip? Perhaps it wasn’t even necessary for him to go. You could make the trip on your own.
You held fast to that thought, of getting away from your prison even if only for a few days, as you lounged around in your room for the remainder of the day. There was little to entertain yourself with, re-reading Grace’s letter over and over again, and sitting outside on the little veranda attached to your room to watch the clouds moving in the sky.
It would be another mercy to escape Chan’s presence if you were to head North alone, but you were afraid that you were pushing your luck, wincing when you heard the door to your chambers opening again, returning inside from your observation of the grounds to greet Chan as you were expected to do.
“My queen,” he rumbled, reaching out to hold your shoulders between both hands, a grip that was impossible to mistake. “Were you able to see more of the Castle?”
“Yes,” you lied through clenched teeth, only breathing a little easier when he released you, eyes dropping to the letter in your hands.
“What is that?”
“It is from my sister,” you explained. 
“I see.”
“She wasn’t able to attend the wedding,” you went on, saving yourself a bit of time as you scrambled for the best way to drop the news to him. Maybe it would just be best to try a blunt approach, giving him your demands since he insisted on calling you an equal. “I wish to see my sister,” you said, refusing to meet his gaze. “Before it is too dangerous to make the trip to the Northern Highlands.”
Chan grunted at your request, and you weren’t well-versed in his language to know what that meant. “She invited you?”
“I can go alone,” you said. “If it is too much for you.”
“I would love to come with you,” he said, disregarding the determination in your tone. “It will give us more time to spend together on our own.”
“Oh.” Your gaze remained trained on the floor, hopes dashed that you could leave him behind. 
“It will be nice to visit there,” he said. “I will make the arrangements. You may write her back to expect us very soon.”
“As you wish,” you sighed, trying to keep the disappointment from your tone, flinching when he grabbed one of your wrists. He didn’t seem perturbed by your reaction, and you watched as he pulled a delicate piece of jewelry from his pocket.
“Well?” he smiled, something that made you shiver. “What do you think?”
“What is it?” you asked in return, resisting the urge to pull back the wrist clasped between his scarred fingers. Even if you did manage to finally meet his gaze.
“It is a gift for you,” Chan said with a smile you were not expecting—blinding and warm. “I made it myself.”
“You made this?”
“As our traditions dictate,” he agreed, keeping a firm hold on your wrist to clasp the little bracelet around your delicate flesh. “It is meant to show our bond to the world.”
You studied it curiously, noting the simple design and the small wolf-shaped carvings engraved in the metal. It was cold against your skin, even as the heat from his body balanced it out.
“Shall we eat?”
He dropped your wrist, and you were able to gather your bearings. “Of course.” You managed a nod, watching as he opened the door wide, allowing a small servant girl to enter the room.
The girl offered you both a respectful bow before she started to set the table, laying out silverware and fine china plates. Behind her, another girl rolled in a cart, wheels squealing on the floor, with prepared food steaming from beneath metal lids. 
“Here, sit with me,” Chan said, patting the space on the bed next to him. “Until they are ready.”
You obeyed, sitting down next to him. Your gaze remained trained on the servant girls, moving about in a well-rehearsed manner as if they had done this too many times to count. 
He reached for your hand, and you did your best not to flinch. “Look,” he whispered, urging you to follow his gaze. “This line on your hand, do you see the way it moves?”
You shivered as he traced the mark he referred to, following it up and down the length of your palm. “Yes,” you whispered, struck by the unexpected intimacy of the gesture.
Goosebumps followed the trail he left on your wrist, and you held your breath when he brought it to his lips. “The same as mine,” he said, almost reverently. Your eyes widened, breath hitching as he aligned your hands together. “A perfect match.”
You could hardly believe it, eyes searching back and forth, but seeing the same line digging into both of your skin. Like it belonged there. 
“There are reasons for everything,” he said, and you felt a small flicker of shame when you read his knowing gaze as if he could sense those dark thoughts that you sheltered about him—wondering why you out of everyone in the world had been chosen to stand at his side. “I wouldn’t question so much,” he continued. “The things that fall into place so perfectly.”
He offered you a wink, surprisingly playful for a man of his reputation. “Let’s eat.”
You nodded, the most you could, and followed him to the table. He was polite as always, allowing you to pick first, waiting until your first bite before claiming his own. You were content, at that moment, to answer the questions he threw your way, increasingly aware of the way the place he had touched warming and the mark on your neck drummed in a gentle pulse.
The rest of the evening passed uneventfully, and there was less trepidation in your soul when you lay with Chan to sleep. 
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You journeyed to the Highlands the next morning, riding behind Chan on horseback, leaving the Wolves’ imposing Castle behind. There was a lightness about you as distance added more miles to your ride, growing brighter and brighter the further you traveled. Even with light conversation petering between you and Chan, you had never been freer in your entire life, the wind blowing back your hair as you soared across the plains.
Despite his repeated requests for you to take a break, you were determined to make it to your sister’s palace before nightfall. You wanted to see her outside, in the meadows that spread invitingly across the Highlands, and walk together just the two of you as you did as children.
There was excitement spiking hot adrenaline in your veins when the hills opened up in the distance, revealing a gorgeous mountain Castle with imposing towers and the familiar flags of your sister’s powerful family. She belonged to Hyunjin, taking his name and crest, and it made you sad to realize that there was a greater distance between you both. You loosened your grip on Chan’s waist, not realizing your grip on him.
You had grown tired of being around him, constantly blinded by the weight of his shadow. At least out here, with the sun beaming down from above, you could feel great relief from the pressure lightening. Perhaps there should be shame associated with your actions, but as soon as you could identify a familiar shape up ahead, you were already leaping from the horse despite Chan’s protests.
Thankfully, your sister was there to greet you, surrounded by two guards. Immediately, you jumped from your steed, falling into her arms and inhaling the familiar scent of her perfume. “Grace,” you squealed, keeping her held tight to you as if it would be the last time you could ever do so. 
“Y/N,” she sing-songed back, and you smiled at her playful attitude, only growing a little despondent when you detected Chan’s approach from behind.
“Hello,” she greeted Chan with a polite bow. “It is an honor to welcome you to the Northern Highlands.”
“Your palace is beautiful,” Chan complimented, and you shivered when he drew fingers down the length of your spine—a show of affection that you would never get used to experiencing.
“Thank you,” she said, turning around to gaze back at it as if she were seeing it for the first time. “It has centuries of history.”
“I have heard the tales,” Chan remarked. “From when I was a boy.”
You tried not to snort, not wanting to relive any memories of Chan from his boyhood. Grace’s careful eyes, however, seemed to detect something, and she looked at you with a curious gaze. “Well, I can show you to your quarters.”
“No need, I’m sure one of your guards will know the way. I think Y/N has been waiting for some time with you. I’ll leave you both alone,” he said, even without your prompting, and your sister gave you a familiar smile.
“As you wish,” she said with a little curtsy, beckoning a guard forward with stern orders to help the Wolf King settle in while you and Grace took a stroll of the grounds.
You held your breath, not wanting your impatience to show as the arrangements were made. Only once Chan had started in the direction of the Castle, guards following him closely, did you exhale. Reaching for Grace’s hand, and tugging her forward.
“No need to drag me!” Grace chuckled at your actions, and she linked your arms together, steering you toward the familiar meadows.
You both settled into easy conversation as it always seemed to happen, topics flowing from one to another. There was a lot to catch up on, things left unsaid from your sad exchange of letters. Rumors swirling around the highlands, and stories from your own homeland that you consumed greedily, excited for any mention of your little Kingdom.
Even if you didn’t really belong to it anymore.
You wanted to walk forever, to keep going beyond the highlands. Escaping to a distant land with just you and Grace. A place where you could both live in peace and go about your days just chatting and reading together by the fireplace as you did when you were children.
She laughed at your complaints, forcing you to return to the Castle when the sun had started to set. Thankfully, you didn’t go all the way inside just yet, and the two of you sat down at one of the picnic tables in the gardens. As you settled next to Grace, bowing politely to the maids who brought you both a cup of tea, you frowned as you recognized Chan between the hedges, strolling along with Hyunjin, Grace’s King, down the trodden paths between the mazes. 
You did your best to ignore him, focusing instead on the moment you had with your sister. The setting sun was warm as you reclined your head, eyes closed as you accepted the gracious touch—burning just as hot as your sister’s intense stare.
“Do you have something to say?” you huffed. “I can feel you looking at me.”
Her smile was clear in her tone. “You just seem...different.”
“How so?”
“Like you’ve been tamed.”
Your eyes flew open at the comment, glaring at her. “Stuck in an arranged marriage, you mean?”
“Mine was arranged as well, but you can rest assured that I don’t take the same comfort from my particular suitor.”
“I hardly take comfort from the Wolf King,” you argued, but Grace simply shrugged.
“You’ve never seen things as I do.”
“What’s so bad about Hyunjin anyway?” you asked instead, to direct the conversation away from Chan,
Her smile curdled. “He keeps busy with his whores,” she said, shocking you with such an accusation.
“Grace-”
“Don’t.” Your sister sighed. “There’s nothing you can do.”
She attempted to restore her previous smile, looking back over your shoulder with a sigh. “I like your Wolf King,” she eventually said. “He cares about you a lot. I haven’t seen him take his eyes away from you once.”
Grace must be imagining things. “He’s tolerable at best,” you decided, earning yourself a sigh from your sister.
“My how your perspective has changed,” she remarked, finally turning her attention to the lukewarm tea in front of her. “You were kicking and screaming when you first learned of the marriage.”
“It is something that was forced on me!”
“But you’re not the only one, Y/N,” Grace said with a tone filled with sadness.
Suddenly, you felt chastened and guilty for even protesting her. “For us both, it has created nothing but discomfort.”
“I think there is potential in your match,” Grace argued. “You resist because you are stubborn in nature, but I think there could be good things for you if you just tried to make it work. Wouldn’t it be better, sister, to live with him as lovers than as cold strangers?”
“He is too wild for marriage,” you weakly protested. But your argument held no merit, and you hated the logic in her words, turning away to glare into the distance.
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Night passed before your eyes, like the dimmest flicker, and you had never been more unhappy to greet the rising sun. 
It seemed that all good things inevitably came to an end, and you were holding back tears when you parted from Grace the next morning, holding the embrace for far too long. Even as you allowed Chan to help you back onto the horse, positioned directly behind him on the saddle, you kept your gaze trained behind you, watching Grace grow smaller and smaller.
Until she was gone.
Your heart was heavy when you returned to Chan’s castle that same afternoon, but your foul mood didn’t last for long. Distracted as you were, surprised by the bustling activities throughout the grounds, everyone scrambling for something you couldn’t identify. “Our moon festival,” Chan explained. “We will be shifting tonight.”
Oh, right. You had forgotten about that part, too distraught reminiscing on your brief moment of freedom with Grace. “I almost forgot.”
“There will be a feast tonight,” he explained. “We will both join as King and Queen.”
You scowled at the idea. “As you wish.”
Chan frowned at the comment. “You must be tired from the journey,” he continued, choosing not to react to your passive comment. “Feel free to rest in our quarters. I will come get you later.”
You agreed with a half-hearted grunt of acknowledgment. Sleep did sound like a much-needed relief from the exhaustion threatening each unsteady step you took up the stairs. It was what you blamed your disorientation on, barely noticing when Chan leaned in to give you a chaste kiss on your cheek.
That same spot burned under the barely-there attention. But you chose to ignore it, instead focusing on how your feet were throbbing when you landed on top of your bed with a huff, allowing tears to escape as you gave yourself a moment to purge the nasty emotions that had built after leaving the Highlands. Unable to do so as you rode behind Chan.
There were too many different emotions piled on throughout the day, mixing with a heady combination of your exhaustion from traveling. Countless thoughts also swirled through your head, and it was inevitable that you would fall under, losing yourself to the easy promise of sleep. An easier task than grappling with your conflicted feelings. 
Darkness greeted you like an old friend, and your dreams were wild. One moment you were back with Grace, strolling through the meadows. The next, you found yourself in an empty forest, shadows chasing each breath evaporating on cold air, ensnared by a pair of red eyes in the thick foliage.
You stumbled on the undergrowth, falling backward ungracefully. You only had the wherewithal to put a hand over your face, trying to block everything out, as those eyes descended on you. Fear caught in your throat, and it was the lasting image that haunted you as you jerked upright in bed, barely withholding a scream when those same eyes met you in the real world.
“Y/N.”
Chan’s voice was deep, guttural in its intensity, and filled with concern. You flinched when fingers came out to gently remove sweaty bangs from your eyes, heart thunderous inside your chest. His hand paused in its motions, and for a fleeting second, you thought you might drown in his stare.
“Sorry,” you whispered. “Bad dreams.”
“I see.”
There was a question in his tone, but you didn’t know how to provide an answer, choosing instead to gently push his hand away. “It’s nothing to worry about.”
He nodded, lower lip caught between his teeth. “If you’re certain...”
You studied him for a moment, wishing that you could confide in him. But there was still a great distance between you, perhaps put there by your own accord, but heavy in its existence. “I shall get ready.”
Chan allowed you the space, agreeing to meet you in the hallway as you rose to get dressed, finding the dress that had been laid out for you by the maids. You slipped the fabric over your body, shivering as the silkiness slid across your skin like a lover’s caress.
True to his word, Chan was waiting patiently on the other side of the door, and you hesitated before taking the outstretched hand offered to you. Unprepared for when it pulled you in closer, under the scrutiny of his affectionate gaze. “Beautiful,” he declared, nostrils flaring as if taking in the scent of the perfume you sprayed. 
“Thank you,” you offered in return, choosing to keep silent as he led the way, helping you down the stairs in your heels. 
For once, you willingly stayed close to Chan, especially as you approached the Great Hall where the festivities would take place. Chan led you into the dining room, perhaps a bit too hastily, uneasy with the weight of his people’s stares boring down upon your figure. Dressed simply in that white gown—pure, as you had always remained—and looking entirely out of place amongst battle-hardened soldiers. 
You caught Changbin’s stare from across the room as you sat at the head of the table next to the King. There was lust in his gaze. And it deeply unsettled you, to the point that even Chan caught your shiver.
He followed your gaze to Changbin who looked away at once. “Tradition says that the King can share his mate,” Chan whispered. “But I will not share you with him. So he can only look.”
You weren’t sure what to say to that. So you didn’t say anything in return. “I didn’t know.”
There was a brief moment of silence, and then Chan stood, addressing the room. “Let’s feast together, comrades! We run together at the moon’s highest cycle!”
A chorus of cheers and howls greeted his words, and everyone started to fill their plates, easy conversation flowing between the wolves like the smell of the delicious-looking platters laid out before you. Still, your stomach revolted, swimming in circles as you picked at the helping Chan had served you. You wrinkled your nose when his grease-stained fingers brought a piece of chicken to your lips, and you forced yourself to take it from him. 
Chan sighed as you chewed, forcing the morsel down your throat as it stung. “I won’t be with you tonight, of course. We will likely stay out in the moonlight until dawn. But I will return in the morning.”
“Okay.” You shrugged, seemingly indifferent. Some time to yourself seemed nice. And you weren’t keen on being outside when they were no longer human. 
“You don’t have to be miserable here, my Queen,” Chan suddenly said, tone taking on a hardened edge. Perhaps the first time he had ever sounded stern with you. “Wolves mate for life, and they choose their partners seriously”
You contemplated his words, chosen ever so carefully. “I - I will try,” you managed, recalling Grace’s advice from the previous day.
To live as lovers rather than strangers. 
He hummed at your agreement, eyes glued to your form as he appraised you with something akin to curiosity. “Don’t roam so far from the castle tonight. It isn’t dangerous, but it is your first time. Of course, there’s usually nothing to fear in the gardens.”
There was a layered hint in his words, but you chose not to think about it too much, simply nodding your head as you resumed your task of picking at your food. There was nothing wrong with the offering in front of you, but your newfound uneasiness mixed with your emotional charge from earlier—it had not yet completely dispelled itself from your system—left an unpleasant ache in your chest.
As if something was missing…
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Later that night, long after the wolves left the castle, you realized you couldn’t sleep even if you tried, listening to the chorus of howls from outside the castle walls. They rang through the night, loud and clear, and harmonized with one another as if perfectly in sync. Perhaps they were since Chan and his wolves shared a tight bond, and you wondered what it must be like to be so perfectly in tune with one another.
It was these thoughts that plagued you, and even as midnight came and went, you grew more restless. You resolved to walk through the castle, to quell your thoughts and ease your mind. Even as your footsteps echoed through the halls, you found yourself becoming more awake instead of the opposite effect.
Fresh air would be nice, you thought until you remembered the wolves outside. But then again, Chan did promise you that the gardens would be safe. You could trust him, right? Or was that the problem? Your lack of trust in someone meant to be your partner. 
You resolved yourself in that moment to try. And if that meant venturing out into the gardens, then no one could accuse you of being silent and passive. This was your attempt at trying, and if it ended badly, then you would have all the more leverage to ignore him.
However, despite your attempts to steel your resolve, you found your heart beating impossibly fast when you greeted the moonlight outside. Each lungful of air that you forced down your lungs felt like sharp knives attacking your flesh. Gaze swimming in front of you, footsteps unsteady as you entered the hedge maze surrounding the gardens.
You inhaled deeply, trying to find comfort in the familiar smell of the foliage. There was a strange air of peace surrounding you, and that was all the solace you needed to keep going, admiring the way the colors of the blooming flowers bled in a different light. It was easy to grow distracted by the sight, as beautiful as it was, and perhaps you could blame your wandering eye for failing to adequately identify the rustling of something large in the undergrowth of the forest. 
You hummed to yourself, leaning down to run your fingers over the soft petals of a rose. Its usual red was subdued somehow, under the moon’s glow, and you smiled at the effect, completely ignorant of a different red seeping through the hedges near your right.
It wasn’t until a gentle whimper sounded that you jerked to a stop, hand fluttering to cover your chest as you whipped around to locate the source of the sound. And what stood before you, as powerful as the looming mountains above the castle, nearly had you falling to your knees.
Except, you realized upon a second cursory glance, that there was something uncannily familiar about the beast in front of you, and it only took you another moment to make the connection. A gasp fell from your lips when you realized that it was the wolf from your childhood—the one you had found that day Chan visited your home for the second time. The one you played with in the gardens. The one you spent time with just talking and believing it was nothing more than a common wolf.
You stumbled then, recognizing the now familiar crimson eyes looking back at you—the same ones that belonged to your husband. The wolf, your Wolf King, butted his giant head against your outstretched hand, giving an affectionate lick to your fingertips.
“I understand,” you whispered, unable to decipher the emotion in your voice, but one thing that you knew for certain—there was a clear absence of fear. Because you had never feared this wolf, always approaching it with happiness, completely ignorant of its true state. 
The wolf gave you a meaningful look, and you were struck by the humanness of the gesture. Understanding dawned on you—Chan had always known. He had always known it was you—the one his wolf had chosen. The girl who had never shown fear to a beast that others considered a monster. 
You had known Chan for your entire life without even realizing it, and your eyes welled with tears, watching him toss back his head and release a spine-curdling howl. One that was joined by a chorus of beautiful melodic cries, merging and joining together, and reaching down to your very bones.
You dropped to your knees then—a mere speck before the Wolf. You cried without fear, and this time, the tension between you and your King vanished like the stars in the night sky when dawn cracked across the horizon.
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Three Months Later
On most mornings, Chan was gone before you woke up, and that left you with a disconcerting feeling of disappointment. You supposed there was much to do for the King of the Castle, but lately, it made you ache for something you couldn’t quite discern.
For the past several months, you found yourself opening up to the Wolf King in ways you would’ve never imagined. The truth of who he was, the Wolf from your childhood, along with Grace’s well-intentioned advice, had managed to crack through the stoic guard you had raised from the moment you bound yourself to him.
He taught you about the bond—how, even if you weren’t a Wolf and couldn’t experience the same emotions, he could feel each flicker of happiness or stroke of sadness as it moved through you. 
You had not known of this connection before—because of your stubborn nature—and you would always regret resisting it. But things were better, and you could see the beauty in the bond and how truly spectacular it was to feel and understand another person so intimately. It made you wonder—for longer and longer periods of time—just how deep you could make that bond.
Curiosity weighed heavy on you, and your eyes cracked open at a gentle knocking on the door—an opportunity presenting itself when you recognized a familiar servant girl entering your room. “Good morning, Y/N,” she said, and you nodded in return.
At first, you had kept yourself closed off to the other maids, but this one in particular, Ivy, had been insistent. It was hard to deny her, especially when she became your best teacher, indulging you in learning everything related to the wolves and their way of life.
She was also quite willing and open to help you with anything, even if it involved the more intimate parts of your relationship with the Wolf King. You brought it up again that morning, growing more and more confident, especially since Ivy was completely shameless when it came to that sort of thing.
“I thought about your words from the other night,” you opened the conversation, watching as she put your breakfast down onto the table.
“You’ll have to remind me.” There was a teasing note in her tone, and you glowered at the playful look she shot in your direction.
“We spoke about the King,” you said. “You told me things…what I can do to please him.”
“I remember.” She took a step closer, and you were wary of the look in her eyes. “Does he not fuck you well?” Ivy asked, and her tone was absent of the same filter that would stop your tongue.
Still, you were embarrassed, looking down at your feet, wondering how to disguise the truth. “It doesn’t feel good when it seems like he just uses me to get himself off.”
That much was true as you had heard Chan masturbating next to you on countless nights, and your name often fell free from his lips.
“I see.” Ivy nodded. “He doesn’t know better. He was taught that a good alpha fucks his mate and makes sure that she is pregnant for him.”
You winced at her blunt explanation. “Is that all...wolves need?”
“Not necessarily,” Ivy said with a bright smile. “I can teach you...if you want.”
“Teach me?” you asked, gasping when Ivy placed a hand on your chest, forcing you to fall back on the bed.
She was all smiles when she crawled into your lap, grabbing your hands and securing them to her waist. You gasped when she started rocking her hips into your own, feeling the pleasant ache resonate up and down your spine. “The most important lesson of them all,” Ivy said with a twinkle of mischief in her eye. “The art of seduction.”
“I - Ivy...”
“Tell me, Y/N,” Ivy interrupted your ramblings, leaning down so that the tips of your noses brushed together. “Would you like that? Seducing your wolf? Driving him to the point where he can’t resist taking you?”
You moaned around your response. “Yes! Please show me.”
Her hips rocked harder into yours, and you could see white forming at the edges of your vision. “Leave it to me.”
And you did, surrendering to her touches, and the wicked way she showed you all the ways to drive a King mad. 
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The following night, you bravely waited for your Wolf King to return from patrol, wearing nothing but a sheer robe that left little to the imagination. Sitting on the edge of your shared bed, you caught each breath as it rattled between your lungs. Nervousness eating away at your resolve and leaving the poor skin around your cuticles abused by your touch. 
Ivy’s advice rang clear in your mind as if she were there with you, holding your hands between her own as she taught you how to please the King. You blushed at the memory, hands covering the bare skin beneath your robe, caressing the delicate flesh as she had done the night before. Demonstrating to you the best ways to please a man, and to make him beg for you. 
That kind of power held its curious appeal, and you thought about it constantly. Wondering what it would be like to make Chan lose his mind to the sin of your smell and touch. You could hardly wait, bouncing your leg and jostling the flimsy material of your coverings. 
Thankfully, your Wolf King didn’t make you wait for very long, punctual as always in these recent times of peace in joining you during the evenings. The easy smile he always offered you vanished as soon as he closed the door behind him, eyes locked on your figure clad in so very little.
“Be assertive.” You recalled Ivy’s words, and you stood on shaky legs to take a few tentative steps towards him. The implication was not lost in translation. You could barely get out a greeting before Chan was on you in seconds, gently pushing you back against the wall. He pressed his forehead against yours and you closed your eyes. “You look beautiful,” he whispered, initiating the first indulgent kiss that lit a fire that you felt down to the tips of your toes.
“Then have me,” you said against the purse of his mouth, tongue tracing that full bottom lip. His gaze widened perceptibly, holding you at arm's length.
“What do you mean?”
“Take me the way you want,” you replied. “I’m ready. You love me, don’t you?”
The intensity in that gaze you had started to yearn for burned even brighter. “You know that I love you Y/N, and I understand why it would be hard for you to believe. I’m more than willing to take this chance to show you.”
He pulled away despite the tight grip you kept on his powerful bicep. Even so, you kept your eyes open as wide as possible to enjoy the scene playing out in front of you when he kissed you again. You curled your fingers into his thick black hair, remembering Ivy’s advice, and pulled his mouth against yours, crushing your lips to his. Chan’s chest rumbled as he kissed you fiercely in return, grabbing onto your arms as his tongue plundered the hot cavern of your mouth.   
Your lungs screamed in protest, and you pulled away suddenly, shivering at his resounding whimper. You opened your eyes, keeping your hands in his hair to hold it back from his crimson orbs. You found the lust there, making his eyes appear darker.  “It’s so hard for me to do this,” you said softly. “I- I want to please you…”
“You don’t have to do anything,” Chan replied. He pressed his hips into yours and you felt something hard against your stomach. “Y/N,” Chan murmured, leaning into your neck to inhale deeply. “I want you more than anything else.”
You shivered as you felt his other hand come to the sleeve of your gown, slowly sliding it down your shoulder. His fingertips slid across your skin, weakening your resolve. His lips followed his touch, peppering soft kisses along the exposed skin. He tugged on the fabric more and you felt the fabric at your right breast start to fall, slowly exposing the flesh to him. His blazing eyes looked down at what he had uncovered, as his hand moved up to hold your breast in his palm. You moaned when his thumb started to rub against your nipple, growing alarmed at the sudden ache between your legs. Like before, his lips soon replaced his fingers and you cried out when he gently nipped the sensitive skin.  
He suddenly tugged the fabric back up, releasing your wrists so that he could have both hands when he grabbed the sides of your robe and tugged it aside to reveal your bare skin to him. Your hands fell to your sides as your chest heaved up and down to match each of your panting breaths. Clad in the lingerie Ivy had helped you pick out the previous night. 
Chan’s eyes were glued to your bare torso. With a moan of his own, he pressed a soft kiss to your lips before he trailed his mouth down, over the soft skin of your throat, down your chest, and between the valley of your breasts, over your smooth stomach down to the top of your lace panties. Looking up at you with hungry, lust-filled eyes, Chan started to tug the fabric down your legs.
Clenching your fists against the wall, you couldn’t begin to describe what you felt when he pressed a kiss against the front of your panties, holding your thighs in his strong hands. Standing back up to his full height, he pulled his shirt off next, tossing it onto the floor. You breathed out deeply as your eyes greedily took in the sight of his muscled torso. Timidly, you reached out a hand, aware of his eyes watching your movements as you hovered your palm over his firm abdomen. “Touch him with your fingertips,” Ivy’s words whispered against your ear. He groaned, bracing his arms on either side of you, moving his head against the wall next to your ear. You heard Chan’s husky voice whisper: “Baby, please touch me.”
Your eyes fluttered at his request, and you placed both palms on his hard stomach, moving them up and feeling the muscles tense beneath your touch. Your hands danced across his pectorals, rising along with the muscles. You moved your palms over his shoulders and then back down, pausing when you hit the top of his pants. Before you could muster up the courage to move any lower, Chan’s lips were back on yours, kissing you senseless. You wrapped your arms around his neck, working your mouth against his, feeling your lips become swollen from his kisses. As your tongues touched, you felt Chan’s hands return to your thighs, lifting them so that you had no choice but to wrap your legs around his trim waist. Holding you against him, he carried you into over to the bed to deposit you on top. You missed his warmth as soon as he was gone and opened your eyes to meet his black gaze.
This was your chance. You remembered Ivy’s words and scrambled to get in position. Present. The command burned its way through your whole being as if you had no control over it. Instead, you turned on your hands and knees, arching your back and keeping your ass held high in the air.
You had never done this before, and you felt so exposed, but at the same time so good, so right, and you restrained yourself from trying to cover up against the shameless crimson stare watching you.
Suddenly, all went quiet, prompting you to glance over your shoulder. The Wolf King was staring at your ass, his mouth slightly agape. “Good girl,” was all you heard before Chan dove down abruptly to taste your dripping cunt, dragging his tongue all the way up to the source of the wetness leaking from you with a single, hot swipe, before latching on and sucking eagerly at the sensitive skin around your opening. 
You keened at the sensation and shivered at his satisfied grunts and moans as he took his fill of your taste. It made you want to please him. To do whatever it took to make him completely lose his mind.
“Chan!” You moaned out, reaching beneath him to flick at your neglected clit. “More!” 
Your demand did not go unanswered. With a grunt, Chan yanked your ass up higher for a better angle, digging his hands into the plush flesh of your hips. His touch was rough, and strong, undoubtedly leaving marks behind, but you absolutely loved it. And when the wiggling muscle of his tongue finally pushed inside, you cried out in absolute bliss and pleasure. Time itself seemed to slow down as that tongue relentlessly moved inside you, searching for that spot that could make you see stars and, once found, pressing down hard. Again and again, Chan dipped inside with his tongue, and each time you moaned for him. It didn’t take you long until your body tensed and shuddered, squeezing around the intrusion as you rode out your orgasm. 
With a satisfied groan, Chan released your hips, and you collapsed on your stomach, still aching for him.
You attempted to look back at Chan, groaning when you realized he was pushing down his pants and underwear, freeing his stiffening cock before crawling back over you. You were met with a flurry of kisses, on your lips, your cheeks, and your neck, before his tongue trailed lazily over your chest and down to the delicate curls damp from your release. 
You squirmed under him as he held himself up on his arms, dragging his eyes unbearably slow from your face and down to your toes. He moved one finger down over your stomach, and you watched it enter the forest of blonde curls around your center. Panting, and nearing combustion, you found yourself instinctively thrusting your hips up, begging him for more than just touches. Growling, he practically shoved your hips back to the bed, reaching down and jerking his thick cock with rough strokes. He abruptly flipped you over onto your back, craning his neck to look down into your eyes. “Let me make love to you, Y/N.”
His words sent a flurry of heat straight to your core. You had never had sex before, but you wanted it desperately. You told him as much and could see him visibly shaking. “I’ll go slow,” he promised, kissing your lips tenderly, before reaching down to line himself up at your entrance. You closed your eyes and winced as he pushed into you. Pliant and soft from his earlier ministrations, the bulbous head found little resistance as it breached your cunt.
You could feel his face bury itself into your shoulder, his knuckles turning white as they gripped the bedding, as if it was taking everything he had to go this slow. Once he was buried inside of you completely, you groaned, adjusting to the sudden intrusion. You could feel him still above you, and his teeth teased the skin at your shoulder. “Son of a bitch,” he growled. “It’s taking every ounce of control I have not to flip you over and fuck you senseless.”
His words, as crude as they were, only served to heighten your arousal. “Move,” you said, grabbing his black hair and pulling his face to yours. You kissed him quickly. “I’m fine.”
He needed no further encouragement, as he slowly pulled out before pushing back in. You could see the sweat breaking out across his forehead from the exertion, causing strands of his hair to stick to his forehead. His right hand moved behind you to grip the headboard as his hips slowly rocked against your own. As good as it felt, you could see he was about to lose it. “Faster,” you told him, and he complied, speeding up his thrusts and allowing some of the tension to escape his body. It was a little painful, especially when he let out a low growl and really started grinding his hips.
You could feel it building inside, the pleasure of his rough movements far outweighing the discomfort. You let out another moan as he moved in and out, feeling the smooth friction all the way to the tips of your toes. The Wolf King chose this moment to draw his hips back, dragging his length out to the tip, before slamming it back inside with a powerful thrust, rocking your body to the point that you felt your vision turn white for a moment. Without giving you time to recover, Chan repeated the motion over and over again, speeding up and adjusting the angle to relentlessly hit deep inside, hips bumping your clit with every smooth grind.
He grunted from his efforts, one hand on the headboard while the other came to grab your breast, his lips sucking at your neck. For your part, you arched your back against him, allowing your hips to come up a little to meet his movements as he hit even deeper inside of you, just barely kissing your cervix. Your fingernails scraped down the smooth skin of his back at this new angle. He moaned when your nails dug into his flesh, bringing his lips up to yours and you kissed him feverishly, tasting him like your life depended on it. One of your hands curled into his smooth black hair while the other gripped his bicep tightly, sighing happily as you felt the muscles move.  
You wrapped your legs around his waist, trying to not feel overwhelmed by all of the things he was making you feel. Buried deep inside of you, you could feel him hit all the right spots, sending waves of pleasure to your tight center. Meanwhile, his lips were working magic against yours, leaving you breathless.  
You could feel an intimate warmth building inside of you the longer he snapped his hips against yours. Groaning, you let out a cry as you felt something inside of you break open, releasing wave after wave of heat through your core, leaving your body drowning in pleasure.  
There was a haze of lightheadedness clogging your senses, and you almost didn’t even realize the swell pushing against your ass, until it breached your core. “Chan!” you hissed at the combination of pain and overwhelming pressure, retreating and then swelling again as he ground that hot mass against you.
“My knot,” he groaned, and you could feel the heat from his chest against your breasts as he pressed even closer. 
You vaguely recalled Ivy warning you about this, telling you that it would be hard to prepare for the massive instrution. You felt a spike of fear as it stretched you even further, and you worried that your virgin body would suffer. All you could do was grit your teeth and bury your head into the blankets beneath you, feeling the swell of his knot pressed against the cleft of your ass. You fisted the sheets between your hands. He would split you in half, and then you would be nothing.
“Y/N!” he growled, slowing his hips to a timid roll as his knot locked between you both, and your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you felt his release flood your insides, filling you to the point that your lower stomach had started to swell from his cum. 
He groaned as you both came down from your highs, and you gently petted your finger through his unruly curls. He experimentally rolled his hips to test how firmly the knot was locking him inside and it wouldn’t budge. Your cunt squeezed the knot, eliciting another grunt from Chan, another twitch, and another spurt of hot cum inside of you.
The pop didn’t swell until Chan was fully seated, his thick cock barely able to seat itself fully between your pulsating walls. It was a painful stretch, of course, but you were hardly focused on it.
Chan continued to hump against you, long after his release and teetering on the cusp of oversensitivity, but those seductive hips had lost their rhythm. It was only moments later, as Chan pulled away from your lips and buried his face into your chest, that he growled when something warm filled your center. You let your hand wander down his spine, stroking along the individuals knots. You could feel him breathing hard above you, and you tried to soothe him back to normal.
You were locked together for a long time, and you were almost asleep when Chan was finally able to pull out, collapsing onto the mattress next to you, looking up at the ceiling. You watched as his chest rose and fell quickly until you could barely see it move at all, signifying his return from his high. Your own breaths came out much shorter, and you were aware of the sweat that coated your skin. 
You watched as Chan ran his hand through his dark hair, moving it out of his face. Looking over at you, he turned on his side and used one hand to bring you closer to him, wrapping an arm around your waist. You hummed in delight as your chests pressed together, moving in sync with each other. Chan’s eyes scanned over your face as he leaned in and kissed your forehead. “I love you Y/N,” he said. voice rumbling. “I’ll do whatever it takes to prove it to you.”
You were barely coherent, collapsed against the sheets with a line of drool pooling out from your mouth. Closing your eyes, you let your head fall against his chest, savoring his warmth.  “I trust you,” you said softly, and you could feel him sigh in relief. Simply holding you against him, surrounded by his warmth, you suddenly felt very much like you belonged.
“You and I have always been destined,” Chan whispered, and for the first time since you had taken your place as his Wolf Queen, you weren’t afraid.
Instead, you were irrevocably alive.
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fayeriess · 10 days
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⋆。‧₊°♱༺ THE INEVITABLE PULL ༻♱༉‧₊˚.
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ellie williams x fem!reader
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summary: on the night of her twenty-first birthday, ellie find herself in the one place she asked jesse not to bring her. a strip club.
warning(s): 18+ smut, modern!au, stripper!reader, mentions of alcohol, alcohol consumption, dudes in clubs being jackasses, jesse being a wingman ( thank you bestie ), dry humping ( a little?? ), fingering ( reader!receiving ),oral ( elle!receiving ), a one night stand, essentially. not proof-read!
a/n: yet another one-shot i'm bringing back. i do have a little 90s ellie drabble in my drafts that I'm working on so definitely let me know if you'd like to see that ;)
You know that feeling you get when you walk into a place you don’t want to be in? A feeling so uncomfortable that it makes you involuntarily bounce back and forth from the heels of your feet to the tips of your toes, eyes darting from left to right trying to observe the situation you were faced with. 
Ellie was unfortunate enough to be experiencing it tonight as the blood in her veins thumped into the base of her eardrums, her hands in the small pockets of the denim jeans she wore as her shoulders hunched with uncertainty. The air smelt like immeasurable amounts of liquor and what Jesse described as ‘fun times’. 
He had coaxed her out of her apartment and off of the confines of her couch on the eve of her twenty-first birthday, a smile on his face as he landed a pat with an open palm on the back of her right shoulder which rattled her, a grimace curling onto the skin of her lips. Playing the scenario back in her mind now, it seemed as if he considered her feelings which didn’t end up being the case. Sometimes, Ellie would find herself filled with slight guilt for even having the thought of her friend being faintly ignorant — but it oozed out of him as he weaved his way through the teeming club. She was barely one for small parties, preferring to linger in the corners away from unseen eyes, processing what was laid before her in the form of passing bodies. 
Finding herself experiencing how it felt to be somewhere more open — more suffocated — made her stomach tie in the tightest of knots. 
Blowing a puff of air out of her throat, Ellie felt annoyance creeping up within her as the bone of her shoulder collided with someone else’s.
“Watch where the fuck you’re going.”
Through the tumultuous beat of hip-hop music, those seven gruff words reached the canal of her ears causing the soles of her shoes to squelch on the scuffed polish of the club floor as she turned around. Deep lines formed between her eyebrows as she scowled, her fingers curling into the palm of her hand, teeth gritting together.
“The fuck?”
Ellie didn’t know whether to consider it a blessing or a curse that no matter the situation, her mouth couldn’t just stay closed even with multiple attempted efforts. It worked out for her in less violent ways fifty percent of the time. Whereas, the other fifty percent caused adrenaline to pump in her veins so quickly that her body would shake slightly, growing numb as if to prepare for whatever damage would arise. 
People tended to underestimate how much damage swirled around her balled fists due to her average stature and the fact that she was a girl. She knew better than to let things progress further, not only for the sake of not wanting to deal with it on her birthday but for the poor patron who’d most likely end up losing if he decided to take the unknown risk of a fistfight. Especially with her. 
“You fuckin’ heard me.” The man towered over her, dark eyes riddled with drunkenness and a bubbling fury as she looked up at him through low eyelids, a smirk appearing at the corners of her mouth. 
Through her peripheral vision, she could see the stares of other club-goers as they observed the altercation with interest, curious to see who would throw the first punch. It would’ve been Ellie. Seriously, she was so close to cocking her fist back just to swing it into his aging face but Jesse had a knack for knowing when his friend got into trouble because he appeared next to her before she could blink, fingers grabbing at the back of the plaid button-down she wore, trying to de-escalate the painstakingly icky tension as those who were unaware continued with their night.
“Woah.” He dragged out in an airy laugh, snaking himself in front of Ellie in case things went south. “No problems here, right?” 
Not trusting herself enough to not utter a single word, Ellie turned and let her feet carry her straight to the bar at the far left corner, jaw tight as she found an empty spot to slide herself into in hopes of getting herself a drink as it had just reached one in the morning. If she had the option to restart the first hour of her birthday somewhere else, she could, but beggars can’t be choosers — and Ellie was far from being a beggar. 
Locking her eyes onto her choice of liquor, she let the music creep back in her ears once more as her eyes clouded over, scanning the crevices of her brain for the pros and cons of having a couple of shots throughout the night, or just getting a glass straight-up. 
Clearing his throat, Jessie weaseled his way next to her before grabbing the bartender’s attention, his pearly white teething glistening under the neon lights that shone through the darkness, eyes shamelessly roaming across her body as she bit her lip flirtatiously. 
Ellie couldn’t roll her eyes, itching to have a drink in her grasp to ease the small jolt of nerves that would pinch her every couple of seconds. 
“Can I get angel’s envy on the rocks?” She asked, avoiding looking at the lady behind the bar as she nodded curtly.
 “Sure thing, honey.” Turning to Jesse, her back arched slightly as a means to pop her chest in his face a little more. The only thing that was stopping her from leaning closer was the countertop between them as she spoke lowly. 
“And for you, baby?” She drawled, voice slow. She already had a couple of drinks, which was evident through her shameless attempt at flirting which the dark-haired man seemed to be into for some reason. 
His lips quirked up, arms crossed over each other as he went to rest them on the bartop, eyes boring right into her soul.
“Same thing.” 
Ellie took the opportunity to observe her surroundings even further. Eyes moved from the people sitting in small round booths and velvet chairs to the stage that sat front and center, one of the main reasons why she had been brought here tonight. A pole stood upright under the bright white lights, metal practically sparkling, blinding her as if to make its presence more known to her than it already was. 
In life, there were a lot of firsts and Ellie had gladly experienced them with pride, diving headfirst. However, this was a completely different ball game that filled her with a small enough amount of discomfort that caused her to scratch at the nape of her neck. 
“Y’know, the least you could do is say thank you for having me deal with your shit.” Jesse chuckled jokingly, fingers jutting outward to slide the glass toward her which she took without a second thought. 
Although Ellie could sense the humor in his voice, the bitterness she felt seemed to overpower her brain before she could correctly process her words. “The least? You could’ve been a little more considerate when you decided on where to take me on my birthday.” 
She leaned closer to him, having to raise her voice to be heard through the music. “A fucking strip club. Really?” 
Raising his glass, he just smiled smugly at her which caused her eyes to roll to the back of her head for the second time that night before he clanked it with hers in a toast. “To being twenty-one.” Tilting the chilled cup toward his mouth, he downed his whiskey in one go before shaking his head to rid of the burning in his throat. Ellie followed right after, letting her eyes screwed shut as heat ran into the pit of her stomach.
“God that was fucking awful.” 
All Ellie got in response was Jesse’s arm over her shoulder as he stood on the tips of his toes, neck craning over heads as if he was looking for something in particular. Before she could ask, his eyes lit up, her body moving forcefully as he dragged her away from the bar and in the direction of a booth that was mostly empty beside three other people occupying a small section of space. Jesse’s friends. 
Truthfully, this night seemed to be getting worse as she watched Jesse slide himself in before moving in his seat, the leather squeaking as it rubbed against his clothes. Ellie licked her lips, tasting a hint of the shea butter chapstick she had applied to them earlier in the night, body growing rigid as one of his friends stared at her with wavering uninterest. 
“Who are you again? He slurred, lazily pointing a finger in her direction, swaying in his seat slightly. 
Ellie’s reply was simple and cold. “Ellie.” 
Jesse slapped him on the back, sending his torso to push forward and some of his liquor to fall out of his shot glass and onto the table in front of them. “Seth shut the fuck up.” 
Seth opened his mouth, lips in the shape of an ‘o’ before his face contorted into one of amusement, “Oh” He chuckled.
If Ellie was being honest with herself, she didn’t remember his name either. Jesse’s friends weren’t people she would necessarily surround herself with if she was looking for company. On occasion, she’d stop at Dean’s house ( the name of the only one she bothered to remember, only because he treated her like he would any of his other guy friends ) with him only because she got to smoke for free, and she’d never pass up free weed. 
Moving to sit, Ellie lowered herself before breathing in through her nose, the lighting dimming above her almost instantly as the song that was playing came to a pause before another one followed behind. 
Confusion grew on her features as the sharp clank of heels could be heard from where she was, just a couple of feet away, in the third row of seats right smack in the middle. She didn’t know what to expect. It wasn’t as if she was well-versed in the club universe because she hadn’t been in one before tonight.
She heard Dean hiss behind his teeth before whistling loudly, “Damn.” 
Averting her gaze toward center stage, she could feel her cheeks warm as she stared at you. Your hair fell down your shoulders in loose waves, your bottom lip tugged between your teeth before you smiled warmly, red nails gliding up and down your hips before you swayed them side to side seductively, moving to the rhythm of the music. Hoots and hollers filled the expanse of space, bouncing off the walls and directly into her ears. 
“Fuck, she’s hot.” 
Ellie was thankful for the darkness that enveloped the room as the crimson flush on her cheeks darkened in color even further. She shuffled back into her seat, keeping her gaze locked on your body as you spun around the pole, the string of your black thong hiking up your hip just a little higher, something she swore only she noticed. 
With her gaze boring into your frame, she watched as you swung one leg over the other, spinning on your heels before lifting yourself off the stage using the pole, your grip tightening as your feet moved in place. 
This feeling in between her legs, the ache she got from just seeing you was otherworldly, she felt wrong about it. She didn’t even know you ( as badly as she wanted to now ) to be feeling the way she did. The butterflies in the pit of her stomach fluttered so aggressively that they felt as if they were crawling out her throat as her breath hitched. 
When the money appeared, adorning you as if it was rain falling, she melted into the leather of the booth. Her eyes widened before a cough emitted from her throat, her heart picking up its pace as your eyes darted across the crowd and she swore you were staring at her as you crawled on all fours in front of the stage. 
So, the only natural thing for her to do was stare right back at you, keeping her gaze locked on your low-lidded eyes before letting someone lift the band of your thong to place a wad of cash, their fingers lingering on your bare hip for longer than necessary before you gracefully danced away. 
You were a goddess, clad in her most seductive armor that nobody could lay a finger on. Ellie could tell by the way you carried yourself, head held high and body swinging low as cash surrounded you. As awkward as she felt, she sure hoped she didn’t look the part because your eyes were still on her. 
A small smack to her arm caused her to twist her head in Jesse’s direction, a frown on her face as she tried to stare at him through the darkness. “You seem to be enjoying yourself.” 
His eyebrows raised in amusement, lips pressed together to keep himself from laughing aloud. “It’s okay you know, to stare, that’s why we’re here.” 
Putting the palms of his hands out, he gestured around him as if to prove a point. 
Ellie tutted before she grabbed a loose strand of hair and tucked it behind her ear, grabbing at the new drink that miraculously appeared ( he must’ve grabbed it off of one of the guys ) before gulping the rest of its contents down, lips puckering as her lungs developed a burn that only Hennesey could give her. 
“This is the last time I’m letting you drag me anywhere without telling me first.” She huffed, blowing out a breath that caused her cheeks to ache slightly. She averted her gaze to you again, this time watching as you left the stage, signaling the end of your set as people cheered and whistled. 
“That was something, I’ll tell you that.” She heard Dean say, his hands traveling down to his pants to try and conceal the very noticeable boner that had tented. 
Ellie pulled her lips back in a snarl, teeth out in the open as an uncomfortable expression reached her features, skin near the corners of her eyes creasing as she narrowed them in his direction. Men were fucking gross — and the way he sat there, licking his lips hungrily as if he’s made up his mind to go after you tonight  — only furthered that thought into the front of her mind. 
The leather seat dipped slightly when Jesse took the initiative to scoot himself closer to her, leaning down to yell, “Was I right?”
Ellie glanced at him through low eyes as the scent of weed hit her nose, merely shrugging in response before lifting herself and pulling down the ends of her shirt, the cotton material having ridden up. 
Se suddenly found herself staring at the bar a couple of feet away from her, coincidentally landing her green eyes on the dip of your back, the bands on your thong littered with cash still. You looked fucking amazing. Your hair was now bunched up in your right hand as you fanned your neck with the left one, your crimson-painted lips moving quickly as you spoke to the bartender she felt herself loathing after their earlier interaction. If you could even call it that. 
A high-pitched whistle beside her pulled her out of whatever thoughts consumed the spaces of her mind. It was none other than her friend, moving his head to stare at who she’d been eyeing. Finally, he saw you in the crowd of people squished at the bartop, and then his brown eyes moved toward Ellie’s face. He knew she wasn’t going to approach you willingly, even if the desperation to speak to you was written across her face in big, bold, lettering. So, he decided to be the devil — or the angel — on her shoulder. 
“Go talk to her, make a move.” 
Ellie wanted to laugh. The urge bubbled up in her throat like bile, and she let it go. Giving him the most genuine chuckle she’s given him all night, shaking her head from side to side. “I doubt she’s into girls.” 
For some reason, considering that as an option made her mood dampen slightly. Anyone here could see the confidence that exuded from you, it lingered in your sweet perfume when you’d pass by people and she was pretty sure she was falling victim to it.
Shrugging, Jesse let his lips pull into a frown, urging her further. “You don’t know that.” 
That was true, she thought as she shamelessly stared you down, her sweaty palms at her sides as she tried to inconspicuously wipe them on the denim of her jeans. Relenting, she felt her heart quicken as her feet carried her toward where you were standing under the neon lights of the bar. 
You looked even prettier up close, your unique features burning into the part of her brain where long-term memory was, trying to soak you in before you noticed she was there. 
“Did you enjoy the show?” Ellie was a goner. Your voice was sweet and sultry, low with a hint of fatigue weaved in between them as you kept your eyes down, your nails tapping against the glass in front of you. 
Ellie cleared the blockage in her throat before answering. “Uh yeah, it was nice.” 
Licking your lips, you still kept your head low but she could see you staring at her from the corner of your eyes. “You were staring.” 
So you did notice her looking at you, which meant that you were indeed looking at her as you danced flawlessly on stage. At least she wasn’t going crazy. 
Feeling the heat rise in her cheeks for what was the tenth time, she stuttered, trying to look anywhere, the confidence she once had evaporating as your light laughter reached her ears. “Everyone was staring.” She managed to spit, biting the inside of her cheek. 
“I wasn’t looking at everyone else though…” 
This made her smile, slightly bashful that you had said those words to her. Maybe you were just naturally a flirt, seeking thrills on sweet-talking club-goers only to leave them wanting more once you left. Oddly, she decided to entertain you by twisting her neck in your direction, the tattoo on her arm taking all the attention as your eyes burned into the skin peeking from under her jacket. 
You continued, “You stick out like a sore thumb, but it’s okay. I like seeing new faces.” Sliding your glass in her direction, you watched with curiosity as she picked it up, swirling the contents in the glass, ice cubes clinking against each other before she let the rest of it slide down her throat. 
Ellie wasn’t a big drinker and she was sure she’d feel the consequences of her choice in the morning, but being next to you — talking to you, was worth whatever hangover would greet her in the morning. 
Pushing for a conversation, you asked her a question. “So, did your friends drag you here or something.” 
Unbeknownst to you, that was exactly the case which she confirmed by nodding. A dry laugh came from her mouth, causing her to cringe at just how fake it sounded but you didn’t seem to mind. “Uh, yeah, that’s exactly it.” 
You turned your body toward her fully, lifting at the strap of your lacey bra, your breasts moving upward just an inch but it didn’t go unnoticed by Ellie as her eyes landed on your chest for a fraction of a second before she was looking at your face again. 
‘How’d you know.” 
“You look uncomfortable. This isn’t your thing?” 
With that question in mind, Ellie felt the vibration of the music in the soles of her sneaker-clad feet, so loud that her body hummed along with the music, the smell of weed burning the hairs in her nostrils as giggles bounced into her ears. “Not really, it’s my birthday so my friend brought me.” 
Your eyes lit up, pearly white teeth contrasting against the dark tint of your lipstick. “Happy Birthday to you then,” 
Ellie moved her mouth to reply with a small ‘thank you’ but the bartender appeared in front of the both of you before you asked her for a shot which she gave you quicker than she had taken Ellie’s drink order. She watched as you slid it in her direction like previously, a smirk decorating your lips as she made eye contact with you, putting the rim of the shot glass between her lips and letting it snake down her throat, the sensation of the burn causing a sharp intake of breath. 
Goosebumps littered your exposed skin as you felt a sudden dull ache grow between your legs. The tension was bouncing between you, deflecting off of the invisible barrier that loitered, cracking just a tad before you backed away. “I have to go now, but it was nice talking to you…”
“Ellie.” 
Giving her one last smile, you nodded. “I hope I’ll see you around soon.” 
She waved with a hand, lips pursed as you turned on your heels and disappeared behind a metal door labeled ‘staff only’.
Usually, every girl Ellie’s ever had an interaction with ended up with her itching to move away from the situation she dragged herself into, jaw tight and teeth grinding together. It was different this time, probably because it was you. The fact that she had no clue what your name was, intrigued her beyond the point of no return. She found herself stuck on you despite having a conversation that lasted all but five minutes — which felt like thirty seconds. 
Sighing, she made her way back to Jesse and his extremely drunk friends. Dean and Seth were shoving each other like fucking five-year-olds bickering over something stupid, their faces inches apart that Ellie felt like she was intruding on a private matter. 
Sitting down again, Ellie let herself endure the two hours in silence next to Jesse as the night wasted away, more drinks being spilled, annoyance growing. She didn’t know how long she was glued to that seat when she made her way outside the double doors, breathing in the fresh air that she took for granted, sighing as she ran a hand through her short auburn hair, the rings on her fingers clattering together as she did so.
 At this point, it was just nearly three in the morning. The dim street lights illuminated the empty street, the leaves on tree branches swaying with the wind in the direction it whipped in. An occasional leaf swayed to the ground as she sat on the curb, the skin of her palms peeling from the roughness of the concrete. 
“I’m fucking serious, Willow.” Moving her head in the direction of the voice, her heart skipped a beat as you stood there with your jacket in hand. You have changed into more comfortable clothes. Your thong is now replaced by pink sweatpants, baggy as they hang low on your hips, and a tank top in place of your bra. Glancing down at your shoes, she could see the white Nike socks keeping your feet warm from the cold, a pair of slides on your feet. You were arguing with someone, that much was obvious. 
The girl in front of you towered so high, it was almost threatening but you didn’t falter in your stance. Her eyes narrowed into slits as she spoke with malice. “You don’t think I’m not? You can come here and dance half naked for some fucking cash but can’t text me back.” 
You scoffed, clicking your tongue while taking a small step back. “This is my job, I’m obligated to come here.” You gestured toward the club with a finger, wilding pointing before jabbing the same finger into her chest. “I don’t need to text you. You’re not my girlfriend, remember?” 
Licking her lips, the gears turned in Ellie’s brain as she weighed her options. She could intervene, ask what the problem was, be your knight in shining armor — but she decided against it. Her palms grew sweaty once more as she continued to watch the interaction. 
The girl breathed through her nose, nostrils expanding as she took in a deep breath before balling her fists at her side, something you didn’t seem to notice as you stared into her eyes with what could only be described as hatred. 
“Fine, have it your way then.” She walked away, angrily stepping toward her car a couple of feet away from you, opening the door with such force that it nearly broke off. “Don’t expect me to take you back when you come crawling with those fake tears of yours.”
You rolled your eyes, shoving your jacket closer to your chest as you watched her get in her car, tires squealing loudly as she peeled out of the parking lot, leaving tracks on the pavement.
Turning around, you saw Ellie staring at you but still pressed against the curb as you walked over toward her, embarrassment creeping up on you in the form of warm cheeks and pressure behind your eyes. Tears. 
Rubbing at your nose with the back of your hand, you gave her a tight-lipped smile before bending down to join her. “Did you see everything?”
She could see just how embarrassed you were as you pushed the nails on your finger toward your mouth, biting at them nervously. Nodding, she spoke lowly, “Yeah, was that your ex-girlfriend?”
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you nodded curtly. “Sadly,” 
Not knowing what else to say, she just sat there in silence, enjoying the quietness of the outside world with you next to her. The silence wasn’t awkward — quite the opposite as she no longer felt nervous or out of place as a couple of minutes passed, glances to each other being shared throughout. 
Ellie was growing tired, eyes riddled with a hint of sleep and the extended feeling of desperation urged her to take herself home. Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she pressed the side button as the screen lit up, the clock on her home screen reading 3:15 am before she turned it back off again. With a yawn, she lifted herself off the curb, stretching her limbs as some of them cracked at the sensation of no longer being hunched over uncomfortably. 
Turning to look down at you, she saw that you were already staring up at her with doe eyes, lips etched into what seemed like a permanent frown. “Do you have a ride home?” The words left her mouth before she could process them and she wanted to smack herself right after. 
Nodding, you jerked your head toward the black double doors, “My friend’s a bouncer, he usually walks me home since I don’t live far.” You don’t know why you said the last part, internally face-palming at the fact that you gave her a slight hint as to where you lived. 
She didn’t know if it was appropriate to ask if she could walk you home. Even thinking about asking you sent her heart racing wildly inside the expanse of her chest. But, tonight was full of risks and she liked to consider herself a risk-taker — so she bit.
“I can walk you if you want.” She spoke quickly, rushing to explain her thought process. “I’m just saying because it’s like three in the morning and -”
You laughed loudly, slapping a hand over your mouth after it had left you. “I’m sorry, I'm just laughing because it’s kind of cute when you ramble.” You expressed, nodding as you rose to stand next to her causing her to scratch the back of her neck before tugging her bottom lip between her teeth. “But yes, I’d appreciate it if you did.” She promised that if she were able to turn into some form of mush, she would’ve in that very moment that you said her name. 
The walk was nice, to Ellie at least, as you talked to her about your job and the other girls that worked there. She listened with interest although she wasn’t a big gossiper, asking you questions about certain things to let you know that she was listening to every word you said, hanging onto them.  She saw how your steps slowed after walking around four blocks before coming to a complete stop in front of a lone door, the redness of the metal sticking out like a sore thumb in the middle of the street. 
All she did was stand there with her hands in her jeans pockets as you fiddled with the knob, wedging your key inside before pushing it open.
“This is me.” You sighed, stepping inside the dark hallway, turning to face her as you leaned your cheek against the cool edge of your front door, fluttering your eyelashes. “Do you want to like… come in and have a drink? I know it’s almost four in the morning, but I feel bad for taking up your offer of walking me home since it’s your birthday and all.” 
Ellie knew that if she declined your offer, she’d find herself on her bed, wishing she had taken you up on your offer for another drink. Like she said earlier, tonight was all about risks. She’d greedily take this one. 
The nod she gave you sent shivers up your spine, her body moving inside your house as a means to shield herself from the chill night air. The temperature difference made her realize just how buzzed she was as she stood in the darkness of what she assumed was your living room. 
From behind her, she could hear the little ‘plink’ of the light switch as you flicked it on, light flooding the room. 
“You can place your coat here if you want.” 
She turned, raising her eyebrows to see what you were talking about until she saw you hang your jacket on a hook near the door, a hand behind you to take hers from her. She shrugged it off quickly before handing it to you, watching as you stood on your toes to hang hers on the hook above the first one hammered into the wall. 
Moving past her into the kitchen, she had no choice but to follow as you lit the room once more, the small island catching her attention immediately due to how messy it was. 
As if you were reading her thoughts, you spoke with some embarrassment in your voice. “I would’ve cleaned up if I knew I was going to be bringing guests over.” 
She eyed the items around the small area before shaking her head. “No, it’s okay, this allows me to scan for conversation topics.” Was it weird that she said that? Well, you didn’t seem to think so as you laughed heartily from your stomach, hands pulling at the fridge handle, browsing at the limited options of liquor. 
“Uh… do you want a shot of tequila or a glass of Rosè?” She heard your muffled question to which she answered quickly. 
“Tequila.”
“Alright, my kind of girl!” You exclaimed happily, setting the bottle down on the island and grabbing two shot glasses from one of your wooden cabinets. 
Twisting the lid off, you poured the liquor into the small glasses which caused her to stand across from you, drunken eyes watching as you handed her one. She took it before staring into your eyes once again, hungrily this time, as you rubbed your thighs together under her gaze. 
The both of you tilted your head back in unison, downing the shot quickly before you waltzed to where she was standing, eyes never leaving hers as you brought your face closer. 
You didn’t know why you did what you did, and neither did she quite frankly as she stood, stiff and with ragged breaths as you closed the small gap between the two of you. She immediately returned the kiss, her back digging into the edge of the island counter, as you pressed against her, grabbing the shirt she was wearing, tugging it with need. 
With a hand snaked around your back, she moved the other to grab the back of your neck, forcing your teeth to clash against hers as her tongue made its way into the deliciousness of your mouth. You moaned, entwining yours around hers wetly, her warm breath mixing with yours. 
She met you all but four hours ago, and here she was, in your house kissing you as if her life depended on it. 
Her hands moved to your ass, squeezing through the material of your sweatpants as hard as she could when you ground your hips against hers, wanting to dissipate the aching throb between your legs. 
Noticing this, Ellie moved her hand to the front of your sweats, fingers dancing down your naval and onto your folds, opening them slightly to rub at your clit. You whined, pressing your forehead against hers with a hand on the nape of her neck, squeezing slightly. The action caused her to rub at your swelling bud even faster, keeping note of the way your face contorted into one of pleasure, your eyes in the back of your head. 
“You like that, hm?” Seeing you like this, your body pressed against hers leaving little to no space to even breathe made her the wettest she’s ever been. 
You only put your head in the crook of her neck as a response, teeth grazing at the skin below her ear as she shuddered, your slick pooling into her hand when a finger entered you, stretching you oh-so deliciously. 
A sob ripped from your throat, your teeth digging into her neck as you bit to keep yourself from being too loud. Ellie couldn’t help the groan that escaped her when she felt you nipping at the base of her neck, stomach tying into knots at the thought of even just getting to fuck you. 
“Oh, my g-god.” You stuttered, paying extra attention to the finger that was moving in and out of you quickly, grinding yourself onto it lower, with such haste that you just had to scream out. 
“C’mon, baby, I know you can say more than that.” She slurred encouragingly into your ear, the hand on your ass pulling you even further into her as she shoved a second finger in without warning. 
“Feels so fuckin’ good.” You were boarding on tipsy at this point, and not just on alcohol, but the feeling of her fingers as they wormed their way back inside you relentlessly. 
You heard her chuckle, “That’s it, that’s right.” 
Her breathing in your ear, chanting praises, the sensation of white heat building up in your stomach became overwhelming as you clenched around her fingers, releasing all your built-up sexual tension. Or so you thought because when Ellie slowly put her fingers that were previously inside you into her mouth and sucked them dry, you went almost animalistic. 
“Sit on the counter.” You purred, eyelashes fluttering at her, your lids low with arousal and drunkenness. 
Ellie wasn’t one to find herself obeying others, especially in sexual situations,  but for some reason, she found herself doing exactly what you said with a slight tint to her cheeks that wasn’t just from the excessive amount of alcohol she had consumed throughout the night. This hangover was gonna be a bitch.
You loomed over her, arms on either side of her, palms pressed against the counter. “Let me taste you.” 
The pattern of her breathing changed, making her chest rise up and down quickly before she uttered something almost incomprehensible to you. “I’m not the one usually receiving.”
The smile that you gave her was devious as your hands toyed with the button of her jeans, “Please?” You found it pathetic at the way you begged her, but you didn’t care, not one bit as she nodded her head, letting you unclasp the button before you tugged them off along with her black briefs, throwing them somewhere in the kitchen to find later. She felt the cool marble of the countertop against her bottom as she grasped at the edge of the counter with her ringed fingers, looking down at you with so much lust behind her eyes that you could’ve just come for the second time right then and there.
“I’m gonna make you feel good.” You hushed, kissing the inside of her thighs with fervor before swiping your tongue over her cunt, lapping at her juices as they leaked onto your tongue. You sucked harshly at her clit causing her to sob once, hands digging into your hair as she ground her hips into your face further.
 “Mhm,” You moaned into her core, feeling her throb against your mouth, tongue flicking quickly at her clit, her arousal mixed with your spit sending her mind to an entirely different planet as her eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. 
You were staring at her the entire time, your arousal wetting the material of your underwear, making them stick to your folds as you shuffled your hips to move into her more, feeling her shake above you. 
“O - oh my god, fuck.” She whined, lip quivering as her legs shook, an orgasm so intense that she grew numb, letting her spend get sucked onto your tongue before you removed yourself, dabbing at the sides of your mouth with a finger. 
Ellie Williams was completely fucked and love-drunk on you, and she didn’t even fucking know you.
918 notes · View notes
chenfleur · 6 months
Text
dreamy nights
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summary. you finally make your grand appearance on jake's subathon.
pairing. streamer!jake x y/n ft twitch chat
genre. fluff, twitch streamer au
word count. 1.9k
released. 10.18.2023
author’s note. feedback is appreciated! i don't know if this requires context but just in case: a subathon is a stream where each time the streamer gets a sub, it adds time to the length of the stream!
masterlist
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"That's not how the game works, chat!"
Even with a door separating you, Jake's whines still manage to reach your ears. Pushing down a smile, you delicately knock your first against the cold wood before slowly pushing in.
The room is shrouded in darkness, with the only source of light being the two large monitor screens set up; they're terribly blinding, causing you to recoil ever so slightly.
Too invested in the game in front of him, your boyfriend doesn't notice you've entered the room. This realization dawns on you, and instead of making your way towards him like you'd originally planned, you lean your weight against his doorway, simply watching him.
A fond smile dances on your lips.
The subathon's something he's been planning for ages.
It's something he had promised to his viewers, promised to himself that he'd carry out at least once in his streaming career. He's taken practically everything into consideration—what games he'd play, what guests he'd bring onto his stream, what would serve as entertainment while he's asleep. At the end, a chunk of the proceeds would go towards your local children's charity.
"Why?" you'd asked when he initially introduced the idea months ago.
He'd brought it up over some late night takeout—the two of you sharing food with distant sounds of traffic and quiet, curious conversations woven in between.
The plastic bag rustled as Jake pulled it closer to him, reaching in and taking out two bubble teas. As he slid your drink over to you, he had replied softly:
"Because I don't remember a time where I haven't wanted to do this. I've been given the privilege to give back to all of the people who have made my dream come true. I want this."
Jake Sim never fails to amaze you. You can't fathom how someone has been crafted with so much raw kindness—much less that you had managed to land that someone as your better half.
ari_01: look behind you bozo
"Look behind you, bozo- huh?"
Jake hastily spins his chair around. His eyes search through the dark before landing on you, tucked away in the safety of his doorway.
The sight of you eliminates tension in his body that he didn't even realize existed. A soft smile finds its way onto his face at the way your figure is illuminated from the pale blue glow of his monitor screens.
"Hi, beautiful."
It's been years and he still manages to make you reel at the simplest of compliments.
"Hi," you whisper back.
Turning back towards his monitor, Jake pauses his game. "Alright chat, Y/N's here. She's still a bit camera shy, so no monkey business, okay? You'll scare her," he scolds. You have to press a hand to your mouth to contain your laughter.
milkbread: MONKEY BUSINESS?
user1993: jake get out we want y/n
mariluvr: OMG ITS THE PRETTY GIRL!!! HIHIHIIIIIII
Jake playfully rolls his eyes before beckoning for you to join him. You oblige, pulling out a chair from the side and taking a seat. Habitually your hand reaches for his, fingers intertwining underneath the desk.
"Hi chat," you greet, a smile growing on your face as an influx of enthusiastic greeting messages appear on the screen.
A huff sounds from beside you. "Gosh, they're never this excited to see me."
"Don't dwell on it. I'm just naturally likeable," you tease, casting a brief glance off to the side. You expect a retort, yet it never comes.
Instead, you feel a squeeze of your hand. "How come you're up? It's late."
You purse your lips together, embarrassment filling your body at the thought of being in front of an audience of thousands of people.
"Go on," Jake presses.
"Just... missed you."
Jake swears his entire stream can see the way your words makes him melt into a puddle. He tries to—and fails spectacularly at—keeping his smile at bay.
"Yeah? Missed me?" he whispers. You nod, head lowered.
It's day four of what Jake had predicted to be an around week-long endeavour, but clearly he's underestimated how much his viewers love him (or hate him?) as the timer seems to see no end in sight. The only moments you've really gotten to spend with him over the course of the past few days are when he stumbles into bed late at night.
You've spent longer time periods apart, but you're still stirred by longing.
A small sigh leaves his lips. He runs his tongue over his teeth before lightly tugging you towards him.
"C'mere," he says, motioning towards his lap.
You look at him in bewilderment, reluctance etching itself into each of your facial features. "Jake, you're streaming-"
"Mmm," he hums, shaking his head childishly. "Don't care. They already know how far I'm gone. Besides, I need to prove them wrong—they keep calling me rizzless."
A laugh leaves your lips, but you still don't make any move towards him. Sensing your unwillingness, he places a gentle hand on your shoulder to encourage you.
"It's okay," he cooes. "It's okay, I promise."
The two of you stare at each other for a moment, as if challenging one another. His gaze is heavy on you, and eventually, you find yourself folding.
Carefully, you place yourself into his lap, the warmth emanating off of him instantly making you relax. His arms wrap around you loosely, resting on the curve of your hips.
"Stop subbing, chat. You're making my girlfriend miss me."
h3artz: i will literally gift 20 rn. do not start
minlmn: sounds like smth a PISSBABY would say
user0304: think about the children jake
"Think about the childr- Okay! Okay. Of course, for the kids," he laughs, rolling his eyes before redirecting his attention to you.
"Tired?" he asks, lips brushing the shell of your ear.
You nod, sinking further into his embrace. "Are you gonna start up the mods segment soon?" you mumble into the soft fabric of his sweater.
Whenever it's time for him to go to bed, his moderators take over the stream for the night to ensure that there's always something going on—whether that's playing games or hosting a makeshift podcast.
"Yeah, soon. Via told me she wasn't available until midnight, so just a little longer. Then we can go to bed," he whispers, fingers gently tapping a rhythm on your lower back. When he feels you nod against him, he turns his attention back to his screen.
mi11: u guys r the reason why i believe in love
urmom123: BOOOOOOO YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE LAME LIKE THE REST OF US #NOTMYSTREAMER
streetfighter: u literally played league for 8 hours yesterday... what am i doing wrong with my life...
"Chat, stop being annoying. You should be happy for me," Jake grumbles. "And hey, to any league players out there-" he points at his webcam. "This is a sign. Don't lose hope, soldiers."
You erupt into soft laughter, removing your face from the crook of his neck and slapping him on the shoulder.
"Shut the hell up," you groan, eliciting a loud laugh from him.
Eyes scanning the live chat, you point out a message. "Look, Jake. Someone said 'not my streamer'," you snort.
"I'm used to it. I think I was collectively disowned yesterday during Uno."
"I heard about that from Jay. You must really suck at Uno."
He grins, hands travelling up to your waist. "But you still love me right?"
You scoff incredulously. "I loved you when you wore highlighter clothing to school everyday. It's going to take more than sucking at Uno for me to stop loving you, idiot."
Jake affectionately pinches your sides, causing you to yelp. Scowling, you begin to berate your snickering boyfriend before the sound of a notification interrupts you.
Upon reading it, Jake groans. "Oh, lord. Thank you for the twenty gifted."
You watch as the timer instantly shoots up another two hours, making your boyfriend close his eyes in defeat, leaning his head back against the headrest of his chair. Smiling, you brush some hair out of his face.
"They keep subbing," he whines. "It's like they enjoy watching my suffering."
You chuckle. "I don't think you should be badmouthing them. They're the ones who fund your stupid financial decisions, like buying a cardboard cutout of Heeseung. Which, by the way, came in today."
"Oh. You weren't supposed to see that."
"What is that even for?"
"You'll find out soon enough."
The two of you spend some more time talking with chat. You share what you've been doing for the past few days since Jake's been preoccupied with the subathon, recounting the bowling night you did with Jay and Sunghoon the other day. It takes you physically shutting Jake up with your hand to make him stop whining.
Exhaustion finally fully catches up to you, making you yawn. Jake watches you fondly before turning towards his monitor and swiftly muting his microphone.
"Go to bed," he coaxes, a hand smoothing over your hair.
You nod drowsily, slowly peeling yourself up from his hold. "Okay. Bye, chat."
"Mic's muted, baby."
"Oh."
You settle for some waves towards the camera, watching as messages bidding you goodnight flood in with a small smile. You think that you're incredibly lucky to be so well-received by his chat.
Jake's hand lingers on the small of your back. "I'll come join you in a bit, okay? I love you."
"Love you too," you mumble.
You begin to step towards the exit when suddenly, you're jerked backwards. A yell would've escaped you if it weren't for the fact that in a fraction of a second, your lips are on Jake's.
One of his hands is at the back of your neck gently pulling you down towards him, while the other one comes up into your hair.
For a second, you completely forget that you're on camera. The feeling of his plush lips on yours overwhelms you—your mind can't help but go blank.
But when that second is over, your eyes immediately snap open. You push at his shoulders, quickly stepping away from him. A scowl overtakes your face as he snickers at your reaction.
You flush crimson. "Next time, if you're going do that, turn off your webcam," you hiss.
"Mhm. Whatever you say, angel."
When you stumble out the door and frantically close it behind you, Jake turns back towards his stream and unmutes his microphone.
user899: MY EYES
redskies: highway looking so comfy rn
plays101: mom and dad get a fucking ROOM challenge
user555: this guy's asking to be slammed with a ban LMAO
Leaning back in his chair with a slight smirk, Jake's hands rest behind his head.
"Relax, chat. I'm not going to get banned. You know-" he pauses, his bottom lip between his teeth as he fails to contain his smile for the hundredth time since you appeared.
Jake hears you turn on the sink in the bathroom, yet the ghost of your presence still lingers in the way his body is still warm from your touch—the way he can smell the citrusy undertones of your shampoo.
"...that's what love is. Makes you do all sorts of stupid shit."
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1K notes · View notes
k-hotchoisan · 7 months
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Seven minutes in Heaven, but make it San (san x fem!reader)
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He knows he fucked up so instead of seven minutes of heaven, you give him seven minutes of hell.
//different au from mingi’s 🌹//
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Genre/warnings: smut, pwp, sub! Choi san x dom! Reader, orgasm denial, edging, choking, unprotected sex, blowjobs, handjobs; maybe I need a job, so much cum 🩷
Word count: 2.4K
A/n: holy fuck this was filthy. Some Angel wanted a San version of seven minutes in heaven so here you go, pretty. Enjoy the filth 🩷
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San knew he fucked up. The moment his friends peer pressured him into choosing between two girls during truth or dare, he knew he was fucked. He hastily chose one of the girl’s name within the circle, and she blushed. She fucking blushed. Well, in his defence, it was a truth question, and that no one knew about you and San’s relationship, at least not yet, because he told you he was going to announce it during the gathering.
But now in this circle of sins he was in, kinda gave him not much of a choice, and before he realised it, her name just slips out of his mouth, and your mood immediately darkens. You very well knew the kind of friends he has when they play drinking games, and they definitely loved the thrill of burning bridges and matching couples, sometimes a little too much. The once bubbly and innocent persona of you dims when the possessiveness starts seeping in. You smile, of course you do, but it was nothing angelic nor innocent about the smile, it was dripping with pure poison. Your eyes lock onto San and he’s definitely struggling to meet your gaze, his neck and face flushed from the alcohol and his mistake.
San takes the bottle and spins it, the bottle landing on said girl he picked. You lean back, your smile still plastered as you stare daggers into him. She giggles as she chooses dare and of course, they dare her and San make out. San’s eyes widen in fear, as his eyes dart to yours, and your expression stays the same—an eyebrow raise and a pissed smile. It’s like a warning—almost a dare for him fucking try.
The girl only laughs and declines, stating that she has a slight flu, and she opts for a hug instead. Well, not any better but lesser of the two evils at least. She embraces San into a hug and the room erupts into cheers and laughter.
Everyone but you.
You swear to the heavens that you were not a jealous person, just a tad bit possessive. Jealousy and possessiveness were two totally different concepts. And possessiveness mattered in the nature of your relationship.
When the group finally calms down, she spins the bottle, landing right at you. You feign surprise, almost honoured that the bottle chose you next. You don’t hesitate to say “Dare”, with a pretty smile on your face.
“Confident aren’t you?” Mingi teases, nudging your arm. You shrug with a smile, wondering what shit your friends were gonna throw to you.
“Seven minutes in heaven”, Yeosang exclaims. “With a guy of your choice.” You raise your eyebrows. A fucking god given chance.
San feels himself getting more nervous as he starts to wonder if you would pull a random guy in just to get back at him. He knows he done fucked up, but you’d never do that, right?
“Choi San”, you pick, after pretending to take your time think, your gaze never leaving his. San’s heartbeat quickens because he doesn’t expect it. He’s relieved that you chose him but oh god, you sure do look pissed.
Your arm snakes around his as you stare down at the girl, with a look of confusion plastered on her face as you smile and say, “sorry babe, I’m borrowing him for a bit.”
The moment the doors close behind the both of you, San is immediately pushed onto the bed by you. His eyes are wide with fear, and something else—exhilaration. He’s wondering what you’re gonna do to him and that makes his cock harden so fucking quick, and your gaze never leaving his as you strip right in front of him just adding on to the arousal.
He’s splayed onto the bed, slightly panting as he continues to stare at you removing every piece of clothing cleanly before walking over to pull off his cargo pants, his boxers already starting to soak from the precum. You straddle him once his pants are on the floor.
“Baby I-“ and his sentence gets cut short when your fingers grab his jaw to pull him close for an aggressive kiss, one that makes San’s head float and his cock even harder. He’s totally melting under your touch and dominance.
He whines as you pull back, your hand still clenching his jaw. He’s breathless, so blown away by the quick make out session.
“So, you picked her?” You pout, your fingers now trailing down his neck, feeling each beautiful bump of his veins and arteries. Your touch is so light that it makes San feel sensitive as he shivers.
“I don’t! I promise babe, it was nothing serious. You know how my friends are when we drink-fuck. Besides, they don’t know we’re together”, he runs his mouth, and you remove his top before palming his erection, causing him to groan.
“Really now? The hug must have felt great right? Someone else’s tits just pressing onto yours, it probably felt fucking amazing for a slut like you”, you hum tracing down his chiseled body, so tempted to fucking squeeze his tits. Your eyes flutter back to his as he continues to deny that, despite the way you said it only causing him to harden even more.
“N-no. It’s not like t-that”, he barely manages as you press the fabric of his underwear onto his leaking tip, and rub, watching San lose his grip on reality.
“Sannie”, you call out as your hand caresses his cheek with utmost poison, as San looks back at you with a glazed look. “Good boys don’t lie.”
San knows he’s not allowed to touch you, unless you allow him to, and he feels his heart hammering in his ears, dizzy from trying to figure out what you’re trying to get at.
“I’m not lying, I promise babe”, he says, genuinely. You know he would never lie, but he still had to be punished. You reach out to grab San’s phone which was lying on the bed after you pushed him down, and set seven minutes on the timer before throwing his phone haphazardly on the bed, right beside him.
You sigh as your attention goes back to him, letting your fingers trail along his broad chest, stopping at his nipples. You lick both your thumbs before flicking his nipples, and that elicits a cry from San as his hips buck into you.
“Seven minutes isn’t long actually. I think it’s a pretty generous amount of time for you”, you say, rubbing and pulling his nipples, watching San squirm beneath you, the wet stain his underwear only growing bigger.
“Generous amount of time for me?” He repeats through hazed eyes.
“Yeah. A generous amount of time to hold you from cumming”, you reply nonchalantly. “I’m not letting you cum until the timer rings, darling.”
That sends shivers down San’s spine and he whines, both fear and arousal intertwining. He’s oh, so fucked, and he could only reply, “yes.”
A smile spreads across your face as you immediately got to work—pulling off his boxers as his cock springs out, so big and hard. You wet your hand with your spit as you start pumping him, more beautiful moans escape from his lips as his hips begin to automatically fuck your hand. As you continue to drive him up the wall, you lean into his neck, and suck against his soft skin, and that releases even more whimpers as you mark a couple of deep red bites and hickeys around his neck.
“I can’t believe I have to mark you like this to remind you who you belong to”, you sigh again, flicking your wrist up, earning a soft cry from him as more precum seeps out of his cockhead. He murmurs “sorry, baby, I’m sorry”, as you continue to pump his cock, with short intervals of teasing his nipples.
His cock twitches in your palm and that’s your signal to let go, watching San groan as he’s first orgasm get denied, his hands gripping the sheets.
“We’re only getting started”, you remind him as you sink yourself to face his cock. San’s breathing hitches.
It was definitely going to be the longest seven minutes of his life.
Your lips wrapped around his cock as you bob your head, making sure your tongue feels up the under area of his cock—where he’s the most sensitive. You take his whole length in your mouth, feeling him at the back of your throat as you clench on him and a loud broken whimper is heard from him.
“Babe, I’m sorry, I’m sorry”, he cries out, tears pooling at the corners of his eyes as his cock twitches in pain when you leave him dry and empty for the second round.
“Do you know what you did wrong?” You ask, letting his cock leave your lips with a pop, his precum dripping off from the corner of your lips as you pepper kisses to his pretty little cock. Through his ragged pants, he barely makes out, “I shouldn’t have let her touch me at all. I’ve been bad.”
You don’t reply him, only going back to sucking his soul of his cock as his hips rise to fit himself as much as he could in your mouth. He feels his stomach tighten again, and you see the flex his abdomen does when he’s going to cum, and he’s crying, “fuck fuck fuck, I’m so close, I’m cumming-“
And your lips leave his cock.
“Fuckkkkkk”, San whines, his knuckles turning white from how hard he’s gripping the sheets.
You ignore his pleas, your eyes glance over to the timer—four minutes left. You look back him with the softest gaze, as you comb your boyfriend’s hair back. “I’m gonna fuck you”, you tell him and it sounds like a threat, and also it goes directly to his cock. He’s so fucked. He knows he can’t last in you for long, let alone for another X amount of minutes left.
San can only watch, wide-eye and hopeless as you shift up to straddle him once more, only rubbing your wet cunt against his very wet cock. He throws his head back against the sheets, his chest heaving as you grind up on him.
Being denied of three orgasms, the fourth one builds up rapidly as he attempts to push his hips up to rut against you, his cock leaking thick, white precum already. “Please. I don’t think I can take it”, he whimpers, this time his tears streak down his face as his cock twitches pathetically against his abdomen, thick fluid dripping down his cockhead, mixing with your juices. And you immediately slow down, another beautiful cry from the male underneath you as his orgasm slips away from him.
You almost feel bad, almost. But seven minutes still wasn’t up. But you do let him touch you this time, and immediately, his hands are all over you, grasping at every inch of skin he brushes against. He claws against your thighs, leaving pretty marks in his wake. You wipe his tears away and press a loving kiss on his lips as you position his cockhead right at your fluttering hole, as you sink in so fucking easily.
“Oh my fucking god, fuck”, San cries out, his cock just twitching in your pussy. A sigh leaves your lips, feeling so full as San’s cock hits all the right spots perfectly. San’s eyes meet yours, as you stroke his hair affectionately.
“Do you think you deserve to cum?” You ask, rocking your hips painfully slow. San can’t answer, he’s so fucked out and he wants to cum so fucking badly. Your hands wrap around his neck, as you force him to look at you. He nods desperately, just wanting a release after being denied four whole orgasms.
“Please, let me cum, please, I’m begging you”, he strains, and you feel his thighs trembling from beneath you. Your gaze flicker to the timer, and you smile at him.
“Lucky you, baby. There’s only a minute left.”
San is frantic and borderline crazed right now, trying to hold it off for the final minute, and his soul almost leaves his body as you fucking begin bouncing on his cock, the sounds of your moans mixed with the squelching from his cock fucking into your cunt sending him off the edge.
“Thirty seconds, baby”, you remind him as you feel the knot in your stomach from how fucking filled San’s cock is in you. Fuck, you were so gonna cum too at this rate. You don’t tell him about the final ten, because you simply speed up, leaning forward to bounce on his dick better, the sounds of skin slapping now louder than ever.
“Babe, fuck, I’m gonna cum, can I cum, please?” San stares at you pleadingly, eyes wet with desperation. You don’t answer him, only grabbing his jaw in your hands as you fuck him even harder. “When the alarm rings”, is all you reply. “Be a good boy.”
And the alarm goes off, so does Choi San. His eyes are barely open as his lips are parted in absolute bliss as a long, drawn out whine of pleasure and relief washes over him as his cock shoots ropes and ropes of thick, white cum right into your tight hole. At that moment your orgasm hits you, seeing your boyfriend so fucked out and pretty like that, as you lean back and squirt all over him, tapping and rubbing your pussy, making sure it gets all over his pretty fucking face as San continues to cum into your pussy. The overstimulation of your cunt clenching on his cock only milks out even more cum, a thick load just oozing right out of your cunt as his cock is softening in you.
He pulls out and winces, the sensitivity tingling through this body. He sits up, and you take a good look at him, and oh fucking boy, he looks so fucking good, covered in sweat, panting, his hair combed back, his nipples looking swollen, hickies littered all over his neck, cum and squirt just all over him. “Fuck, you look so fucking hot like that”, is the first thing that leaves San’s mouth, causing you to break into laughter as you lean in for another greedy kiss which he never denies you.
You reach out for tissue on the nightstand, to at least clean the cum running down your thighs, which San, for his life could not keep his eyes off. San cleans himself up as you pull up your panties and wear your clothes back on. You turn to San, who is about to put his top back on, and stop him. San is confused for a moment as he stays put, feeling your fingers tips trace over the love bites on his neck.
No not enough. You squeeze his tits, a small gasp leaving his lips which turns into a moan when you suck near his nipple—another gorgeous hickey blooms. Two more bloom on his chest and you were done. Your hands graze his nipples, causing him to whimper. “I think this is a good way to let them know of our relationship”, you hum, admiring your artwork. “We can leave like this.”
Pink creeps up to his neck and cheeks. You stare at him and a pout appears. “What, you want to let her know you want her?” San shakes his head quickly. “N-no! I only belong to you”, he says through flushed cheeks.
“That’s my good boy”, you smile as you stroke his hair as San completely melts around you. You take his hand gently and kiss it before opening the door.
Everyone turns their attention to the both of you, and boy, did their jaws hang open.
“Bro, what the fuck did you guys do in there?” Mingi asks, staring at the disheveled state the both of you were in, and his eyes land on San’s body, which is so prettily decorated.
“Yeah, we wanted to announce that we’ve been dating for awhile now, but seems like he got a little carried away with spin the bottle”, you respond, drawing circles in San’s palm.
All of their eyes follow the both of you as you and San return to your seats. Your eyes meet the girl’s and you giggle.
“Sorry it took awhile, I brought him back.”
The girl who he hugged isn’t fazed, she only laughs in response, saying, “oh my god, fuck off. Jesus Christ the both of you.” You only laugh back as your eyes meet San’s and his gaze reflects something so affectionate and delicate.
Yeah, that was probably one of the best seven minutes of his life.
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taley-blue · 5 months
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🪷🌹🤖🦉🫧
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honeykaes · 10 months
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not a fairytale
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pairing: ayato x femme!reader II 3.1k
warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact, hurt/comfort, angst, arranged-marriage au, based on queen charlotte, reader is from fontaine, fingering, cunnilingus, virginity loss, creampies, unedited
synopsis: to improve relations between inazuma and fontaine, focolors and raiden shogun arrange you and ayato to get married much to your dismay. As you try to be hopeful about the situation, you find yourself getting angrier and lonelier as ayato completely distances himself from your life.
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A small lit candle on your vanity illuminated the dark room as wax soon dropped along its golden holder. Your obi, decorated in navy and sewn with silver cranes was thrown to the ground, leaving your robe barely covering your chest and stomach.
Your eyes gazed at your reflection in the mirror, darkened eyes watching you back. You looked completely different than you did in Fontaine three months ago before you had sailed across the lands for weeks to reach Inazuma where you would reside for the rest of your days with a man you had never met before.
It had been three months since you had married Ayato Kamisato, the head of the Yashiro Commission in Inazuma.
The archons, Focolars and the Raiden Shogun had chosen your families to wed as to improve relations between the two nations—your family, hailed for its international politics and diplomacy matched with his family’s managing shrines, festivals, and other cultural events. You had traded your bodices, frills, and corsets for robes, obis, and haoris. 
You hated being a pawn in a game you weren’t even playing, but how could you fight against two all-powerful archons? When you first met your husband, he had seemed kind as you battled with yourself whether you could run away without your family being tried by Focolars for “breach of contract”. Ayato offered reassurances, that you wouldn’t be forced to do anything you didn’t please, that you’d be free how to go about life in the estate.
It comforted your heart and made you hopeful that you had an ally, someone to rely on, someone to eventually trust and love. Yet, after you said your vows in front of the people of Inazuma adorned in a white shiromuku kimono you didn’t get to choose, he distance himself from you and ushered off to attend to whatever with his retainers flashing a sad look to you. 
The two of you haven’t even consummated the wedding. How utterly embarrassing. The man had not provided a shared bedroom with him. It was separate rooms, separate lives, separate people. 
You hardly saw him at all.
You gripped your fists tight, nails digging in the flesh of your palms. Tears pricked at your eyes watching your hardened eyes fill with them.
“It’s not fair. I didn’t want this. I never wanted a marriage like this…” you muttered out loud. You heard a timid knock on the door as one of your personal retainers, Ayato seemed to assign her to, peaked her head out of the door. 
“My l-lady? Are you crying?” she stammered out. You narrowed your eyes at her, quickly wiping your cheeks to hide any stains or residue your tears could leave behind. Shifting under the weight of your cold gaze, her eyes leered away momentarily before gazing back at you.
“I’m fine,” you muttered. “He missed my dinner invitation again despite the numerous attempts to get his attention. I’m not going to try anymore. I’m tired of feeling like this.”
The retainer hesitantly leered behind her again before letting out a soft sigh.
“I see, my lady. But, my lord is actually here at the door with me wishing to speak with you,” she answered, opening the door further to reveal Ayato’s somber form peering over at you. He was dressed casually in a pale blue yukata, purple heko obi wrapped around his waist. His lips pulled themselves in a frown.
The sight of his eyes gazing at you pitifully caused bubbles of anger to rile deep in your chest. You turned your head around glaring at the pair through the reflection of the mirror.
“I don’t care. Va-t’en!” you barked. The retainer shrunk as you yelled, looking up to Ayato as he silently lifted a hand up signaling she could leave. The retainer rushed out as Ayato walked fully into your private chamber, closing the shoji behind him. You hear his heavy footstep creep closer to you as you shut your eyes, knowing he was now right behind you.
“(Name), I believe I owe you a long-deserved apology,” he murmured. You napped your eyes open, whipping your head around, and scoffed, seeing his frown deepen. 
“Oh? What makes you say that?” you sarcastically ask. You rose from your seat, jamming a finger into his chest. Ayato could feel the daggers digging into his eyes from your gaze.
“You said we were in this together. That’s what you told me on our wedding day! That’s what you even said in your vows to me,” you barked. Tears were beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes once more, as Ayato’s eyes softened.
“You made me believe that this shitty situation would be hopeful! That I’d be happy despite being a sacrificial pawn to my nation,” you yelled out. Ayato briefly closed his eyes, letting out a deep sigh from his chest.
“...It seems my own judgment about you was incorrect,” he replied, reaching out and placing his hand on your shoulder. A fire lit under you as the rage that developed for months finally reached its boiling point. You shrugged away his hand, Ayato’s mouth opening in surprise.
“Don’t act like my husband now, my lord,” you cooly reply. Ayato closed his mouth, taking a sigh once more to collect himself and retreating his hand back to his sigh.
“When we first met, and I saw you at the docks strategizing with yourself on how you could wiggle yourself out of this situation, I couldn’t help but smile. It comforted me that I was also not alone in feeling like a pawn to the archons, to the nation,” he confessed. You sniffled, crossing your arms tight. He thought you would interrupt him, curse at him, beat on his chest but you stood there, silent tears streaming down your face, and simply glared at him.
“You told me your wish for independence. I knew that you did not want this, so I did not want to force you into a role you had no choice to do. I wanted you to be able to do as you pleased and work on your efforts of diplomacy and international cultural teachings Inazuma needs after the Sakoku Decree lifted—”
“No, Ayato! I WANTED LOVE!” 
Your eyes widened surprised by your own outrage before drifting your arms to hug yourself. Your blurry vision darted to the floor, shame bubbling inside of you as you finally admitted the core issue of your frustration. Ayato’s lilac eyes widened, taking a step back surprised at your outburst too.
You turned your body around, trying to escape his eyes peering into your own. The two of you briefly sat in silence, the candle still burning briefly alerting you that Ayato still remained there, paused as his shadow did not move.
You wiped your eyes once more, sniffing loudly to prevent any snot threatening to peak from your nose, and took a shaky sigh before turning around to face your husband. His eyes had narrowed, not from anger or disappointment, but from thought. 
“...As a child, my favorite story was Cendrillon. Although I did not have an evil stepmother or step-siblings, I related to that poor girl so much,” you confessed. Ayato took a silent step forever, getting closer to you.
“Yes, I wanted my independence and freedom but I also wanted to share that with someone that I loved,” you uttered, voice beginning to get shaky. Ayato still had not said a word, same expression outlined on his face.
“...I…” Ayato trailed off before, closing his mouth once again.  He took a deep breath, an attempt to reassure himself against your own watchful eyes.
“When my parents passed when I was a child, the stories that I loved…I began to hate them. How could these fairytales, love like that even exist even when I would never be granted those privileges? I couldn’t shrink my responsibility, I had to take care of my little sister and the clan my father had left for me,” Ayato recalled, closing his eyes.
“I didn't understand because I had the legacy of my bloodline, my family on my shoulders; however…” he trailed off, reaching his hand for your palm. He lifted the appendage up, pressing his lips against your palm.
“...I need to at least be willing to learn with you. I cannot promise I will be a prince from those stories, but, as I said in our vows, I will open myself to you, in my heart…if you’ll still let me.”
You froze as Ayato gave you a soft smile, letting your hand go and placing his large palm against your cheek. It was warm, his touch gentle as if he was handling cracked glass. As more tears cascaded down your cheek, he wiped them away with his thumb slowly leaning him and placing his lips on top of your own. 
And to both of your surprise, your eyes fluttered close—pressing your lips back with the same fervor.
Your arms wrapped around his neck, deepening the kiss and closing an inch of space between you two—lips desperate and clinging on to the hope of reassurance of the future of your marriage. A low moan reverberated from Ayato’s lips, drifting his hands to your waist, and pulling you closer. You gasped feeling something hard beginning to nudge your upper thighs, before he gripped your robe—already exposing much of your body to him—and took it off, leaving you bare to him
Embarrassment fills your form remembering the little clothes you did have on when you confronted Ayato, but it didn’t matter at this moment; his hands gently brought your body down against the large plush futon on the ground. He laid on top of you, breaking the kiss momentarily to let his eyes wander across your form before claiming them once more. Ayato’s hand brushed against your thighs, pinching the plush skin of your upper thighs.
Ayato breaks the kiss once more, grunting in brief frustration, at the lack of contact his skin was having yours. With his obi and yukata joining your attire, your eyes fell to his hardened cock before he laid on top of you once more, pressing his lips against the shell of your ear. His hand snaked itself between your thighs, cupping your slit as a soft sigh escaped your lips. 
“Ayato, please,” you begged.  He sucked a breath in and felt his cock throb at the low seductive nature of your voice. Two fingers brushed themselves along your fold, gathering up the slick drooling out of you You gasped as they sank themselves inside, inching deeper into your core. Ayato struggled pumping his fingers inside of you from how tight you were, walls clinging against him as if they didn’t want them to leave.
“You’re beautiful and already dripping this much for me. I didn't take you for the innocent type,” he hummed in your ear. Your nails harpooned in the soft silk of your sheets, feeling hot precum smearing against your leg as Ayato absentmindedly ground himself against you. 
“I see you’re feeling confident now, my lord,” you muttered in response. Ayato clicked his tongue, pressing his lips against your neck.
“I thought I told you when we got married not to call me that. I want to hear your voice, especially like this, call me by my given name,” he whispered. You choke out another moan, his fingers scissoring themselves to stretch you out further.  Ayato leaned over, stealing another kiss from you, before parting his fingers. The digits were illuminating under the dim light, caked with your arousal before Ayato briskly lapped them up.
His lips moved down from your neck, leaving a trail of burning kisses along your body.
“W-What are you doing now,” you stammered out as he reached the valley of your breasts. His hands propped up, fondling the pair with a tight squeeze as you whined. 
“Something you’ll enjoy, I promise,” he reassured, lips curling to a smirk. He flashed his eye up briefly at you, admiring your embarrassed expression eating up every move and tease he was showing to your body. A soft laugh escaped him before continuing to kiss down your body until he reached your naval.
“Did they not explain what consummating truly meant?” he hummed in amusement, lips moving towards your inner thighs. You ball your hands into fists, pounding them down against the futon.
“I know what it means! I’ve read books about it, Ayato! It’s not like I had anything else to do stuck inside of here all day!” you barked back. Your husband, who was nipping at your inner thighs, paused hesitantly before offering you a regretful smile.
“Hence why I want to give you the best experience possible. To help atone for my cruelty,” he replied. He set his sight on your entrance, watching your sweet hole puckering on nothing, and leaned in further. Opening his mouth, Ayato pressed his tongue along your slit, sliding the muscle up and down. You whined, pleasure shooting through you as his tongue nudged against your clit ever so often.
He slurped the abundant slick pouring from you, wrapping his lips against your swollen clit and sucking with passion. His name yelled from your lips, drifting your hands down on Ayato’s soft pale blue hair—pushing his head further against your crotch. Your ground your hips against his face desperate for more friction on the bundle of nerves.
“Heh…our retainers probably know what we are doing from how loud you are being,” he cooed, giving your clit kitten licks as your hips bucked for more. He quickly released your hands that were pressing against Ayato’s hair covering your mouth in embarrassment. He clicked his tongue, corners of his lips turned downwards before gliding two fingers back inside of your warmth, curling themselves inside of you as if they were determinately searching for something.
“That’s not to say to be quiet, love. Please…I want to hear your voice. Let me know how my actions are making you feel,” he breathlessly groaned. You shakily let your hands go, pitch rising as Ayato went back to toying with your clit as he pumped his fingers inside of you. Your stomach churned, thighs trembling as you crawled closer to your high.
“Ayato! Ayato, fuck!” you cursed out loudly, overwhelmed with the pleasure he graced you with throughout your body. As you shivered in pleasure, hips rising without control, Ayato pressed his hand down—trying to control your writhing form.
“Easy there. Shhh, I got you,” he cooed, helping you ease down from your climax. Your chest heaved, catching your breath—half-lidded, tired eyes peering up at his soft ones. You drifted your eyes away from his gaze as he leaned up, wiping his mouth of the slick that clung onto it. 
Your attention was now on his cock, twitching impatiently. Although it wasn’t girthy, it was long and looked heavy as it curled up. Precum budded at his flushed tip; a few moles littering along its base.
Ayato lined himself up against your slit, the sensation feeling foreign to you as he reassuringly nudged his tip against your burning clit. You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, trying to internally prepare for what was to come. 
“I won’t sugarcoat it, this is going to be painful,” he murmured, offering you a kiss on your cheek. “But, just let me know when you're ready for me to start moving. Don’t worry about how long that will take. I’m a patient man.”
Ayato slowly slid his cock inside of you. You suck a sharp breath in, walls burning as you feel him slowly stretching you out overtook your senses. As he inched further, Ayato found gnawed on his bottom lip fighting the urge to immediately bottom out. Your walls were soft, tightly clenched around his length. Your nails dig into his pale. Broad shoulders as tears develop in your eyes.
As he finally bottoms out, he peppered kisses along your tear-stained face, softly moaning at your pulsating walls trying to milk him.
“You’re taking me so well. It’s hard to control myself when I have you like this,’ he confessed, drawing shapes on your hips to distract yourself from the pain. His fingers eventually move away finding themselves against your clit while it rubbed tight circles, trying to ease the torment into pleasure
Time eventually passes and you whine, offering a shaky nod. Pressing his lips on yours one more time, his hips begin to move. His pace is powerful, clearly overwhelmed by your cunt. You could hear him grunt against the shell of your ear, muttering your name repeatedly. 
Your legs wrapped around his thin waist, allowing him to plunge himself deeper. Ayato’s tip brushed against the spot he had found earlier and you yelped out in response. Your head had thrown back, sliding your nails down his back as he clenched his jaw at the sharp pain. He increases his pace, as the sound of skin slapping against one another echoed throughout the room.
With his balls slapping against your ass, his eyes focused on his cock continuously disappearing inside of you, glistening in your slick. Your stomach churned, walls fluttering down as you crept closer to your high once more.
His patience had sadly thinned too much, shutting his eyes tight and grunting loudly. His hips stifled, cum shooting deep inside of you.
“I can’t stop myself, I’m sorry,” he slurred out, pressing his face tight against the nape of your neck. He continued to rut against you, thrusting his cum deeper as one hand stroked along your thigh to try to wake him up from this spell.
As his thrust slowed and then halted, sheathed completely inside of you, he lifted his face from your sweaty nape—capturing your lips once more. The two of you moaned before he leaned away again.
 A blush had decorated Ayato’s face, lilac eyes darker and focused as if you were the only person on the planet. His head clung onto his forehead, his lips, glossy, as a string of saliva connected them with yours still. You let your hands fall to the futon before Ayato weaved his own with them and gave you a soft smile.
He was beautiful like this, vulnerable. It was different from his usual distant, calculating self. 
“What made you come tonight,” you whispered. Ayato sighed, letting your hands go and leaning his head to rest on one of your breasts.
“My sister and one of my closest retainers, Thoma. The pair held an intervention for me and put the mirror to my face on how I was treating you. He paused briefly.
“As I said, I’m truly sorry. You won’t have to worry about me leaving you alone anymore,” he whispered. You smiled.
Although it would not make up for everything he put you through, it was at least a start.
A glimmer of hope.
You brushed his hair with your hand, closing your eyes—a peace you haven’t felt in months overtaking you.
“We’re in this together. Never forget that.”
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grllmx · 3 months
Text
"Ragatha in Wonderland"
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🌻 Them side by side for height difference 🌻
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Heya!! Y'all wouldn't mind some info dump, would ya?
But before I share my thoughts and ideas for this au, note that I am making this all for fun and that I am only merging two concepts at once because they sound fun in my head!
-- So without further ado, let's start shall we?
Ragatha in Wonderland is a fun silly lil' au I thought about in my spare time (Though I am aware that I'm not the only person who had similar ideas) buuut! Here's my take on how this concept goes ~
💜🟣🎀- - - - - RAGATHA IN WONDERLAND - - - - -🎀🟣💜
🌻 Wonderland is similar yet different from the Circus. Many possibilities await in this newly found land, but wait... How odd, suddenly everyone and everything is of new variation! Did things really stay the same? Are things different? It's a confusing world that warped and transformed the original digital land into something new. New places to explore, new outfits! New concepts... New people? It seems everything changed. Perhaps even... True death is possible now.
Ragatha - Plays the role as Alice. Confused and bewildered at first but Ragatha progressively adapts to the world and the surroundings around her. Acts like herself for the first portions of the story but as she dwells longer in this 'wonderland' she loses herself, her identity, as if the place was sucking out all of 'her'. She'll meet a lot of familiar faces. She feels comforted, knowing that she isn't alone in this newly found world but little does she know - they are not what she seemed.
Jax - The white rabbit leading Ragatha to wonderland. Jax was the one who dragged her in this, so Ragatha's first instincts was to follow him, hoping he knows where the exit is. Though he often plays tricks, teasing and playing with Ragatha's head whenever given the chance. Maybe he doesn't sound like a reliable shoulder to lean on, but he is Ragatha's key in terms of escaping wonderland.
Gangle - Starring as the mouse and the dormouse. The first person (other than Jax) Ragatha meets in wonderland. Gangle is skittish and has an extreme fear of cats. She does not like hearing or mentioning them, her mouse-like features says so otherwise. Though, in later unfortunate events, Ragatha scares her by mentioning, you guess it, cats. And then flees elsewhere.
Zooble - Following the (possibly tobacco) smoke trails, enters in the wise caterpillar. Meeting for the first time was not fun, in Ragatha's case mostly. Zooble asks Ragatha a lot of questions, typically centering around herself which gradually starts her descend into madness. Zooble's questions hit hard for Ragatha, making her realize a lot of things and learn more about the world. Though one question stuck the most, "who are YOU?"
Caine - The Hatter/Mad hatter. Need I say more? Hehe, anyways... Caine, alongside Bubble, is notably the most mad or insane person living in wonderland. Always yapping about random things (Riddles, jokes, factual statement... you name it) that can either be truth or made up, which Ragatha can't tell the difference of since they are always so surreal and deranged, or in other words, utter nonsense! He is another character that made Ragatha's mental state and mindset deteriorate. (Ragatha wishes to never meet him again)
Pomni - It's Pomni! Though, something is off... Pomni's role is the Cheshire cat. She's willing to help Ragatha escape, even suggesting ideas that felt to be possible, but are things really that easy? No, of course not! She is a red herring, a person filled with mischief that fools and plays with her victims until she deems them boring. Ragatha meets Pomni in the woods right after she ran away from Caine, and just like Jax, Pomni plays with Ragatha's head. But eventually helps her out and leads her to the kingdom's garden.
Kinger - Sometimes, a king is fit to be queen. Kinger is the Queen of Hearts, a short tempered, bossy but childish queen. After first meeting, Ragatha didn't deem Kinger as a threat at first, even playing a simple game of croquet with him. But as she starves and remembers that hunger was present in this land, she secretly ate the queen's well-known 'tarts'. This resulted into the seething rage of Kinger, declaring a court trial in which Ragatha was later proven to be 'guilty'. Hence, "OFF WITH HER HEAD!"
🌻 So, spoiler alert -- Just like in original tales and stories inspired by Alice in Wonderland, this was all in Ragatha's head, a dream! I'm debating to either turn this into a comic or not, because I think it helps further explain my ideas, but who knows? Maybe with the right motivation and energy, I might do it.
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Thank you for reading! Have a nice day/night 🌻
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dcxdpdabbles · 6 months
Note
the photo au just has me thinking that lady gotham is shipping dead tired and i love it
(it's a change of pace from her shipping dead on main so that's cool too)
"King Phantom," Danny jumps, not expecting the raspy voice to call from the dark alley he was passing. He turns his gaze to the shadows, squinting as a woman made entirely of smoke and tar takes form, towering over him like the skyscrapers of her city.
His head barely reaches the knees of her dark grey dress. Her outline flickers in the air as if she is nothing but the smoke of a flickering candle about to be blown away.
Despite her aristocracy beauty- her high cheekbones, her smooth skin, and lovely dark curls that fall along her shoulders- her presence inspires a terrible amount of dread.
Around him, people continue to walk by, unable to see her but sensing her all the same. Danny quickly moves off the street, entering the alley of darkness- at once, the city's noise is silenced while the two power ghosts are muted in a safe little bubble.
"Lady Gotham," He greets, bowing his head slightly. It's not quite a nod, for that would be too dismissive of a noble lady, but it's not a complete bow, for that would mean she is higher ranked than he.
"How are you enjoying my domain, your majesty?" Lady Gotham breathes her voice, sending chills down his spine.
"It's lovely. My sister and I are truly enjoying exploring it. I particularly enjoy photographing the scenary." He says, keeping the unease out of his voice. Her black-painted lips pull upwards into a smirk as if amused by his attempt at diplomacy.
If there is one thing Danny has learned, it is that while he is the King Of Ghosts, that doesn't mean he has absolute power- politically wise. Many entities have domains for centuries that have, through those years, earned nobility status among the ghosts.
He couldn't just scorn the noble ghosts. Even Pariah Dark- the most potent ghost of all time- was defeated the first time when the nobles- later renamed Ancients- banned together to take him down.
Lady Gotham was not among those Ancients, but Danny knew she could quickly call upon her allies and dethrone him just as easily. If Danny is a King, she would be the Queen of a neighboring kingdom just gearing up for war if he fumbles his manners.
"Is it truly the scenery that catches your fancy? Surely, there are far prettier things to look at in my domain?" Lady Gotham's voice is soft, like the humming of a gentle river.
Danny blinks, thrown by the question. "I can't say I understand, my Lady. What pretty things do you speak of?"
She flips open a fan, hiding half of her face as her black coal eyes stare at him with an appraising glint.
Above them, a hiss of a grappling hook springs out, and Red Robin flips over their heads in pursuit of a fleeing car. Danny's finger twitched with the huge to pull out his camera and finally get a meme-worthy shot of the teenager.
Alas, he can not do so, for he is speaking to a ghost noble who could use his careless behavior against him at the next afterlife high society meeting.
Lady Gotham's eyes crinkle in amusement. "I speak of what I find amusing but what others find shocking. What can be entertaining but others call fascinating. After all, trying to capture one's faults is where true beauty is found."
Danny fights to keep his face pleasant even if he has no idea what she means. She speaks in riddles, at least. That's what it sounds like to him.
He should introduce her to Clockework. They would have a good time talking in circles around each other.
"That's an interesting outlook, my lady." He settles on. She hums, then snaps her fingers. In front of Danny, a paper appears, floating in swirls of smoke.
"My King, I have existed long before humans found this plot of land and bestowed the name Gotham onto me. Yet I find myself lacking in any solid evidence of my precious people. I can interact with their world, but I can never truly step into it. Especially the Waynes. They have done so much for me through generations, and I can't even greet them properly." Lady Gotham's words may sound sad, but her tone only implies amusement. Danny is instantly weary. "I was wondering if I could ask that you- the bridge between both worlds- would do me a favor to remedy this."
The paper floats closer, and on it, Danny can see it is an invention for the Wayne Charity Gala. His name is printed on the guest list, asking that he join them for his donations to the art programs around the city.
Danny never made such donations because the Fenton's are far from wealthy enough to do so. Lady Gotham was behind this, as she could interact with the world but not the humans. Getting money for the programs under his name would be child's play.
He couldn't say no, per the norms of high society, and he knows she is well aware of this. Lady Gotham has cornered him.
"What is the favor, My Lady?" He asks, pocketing the invitation even though his insides are twisting.
"I only ask for a photo of each current Wyanes." She says, her voice now the sound of falling rain on the city. "Each photo should be the of them individually, for it will be what I display in my lair as their portraits."
Oh, she just wants pictures? Danny could do that!
"Of course." He says, smiling easily up at her. "I shall have that done for you."
"Excellent. I shall await the gala with anticipation."
Danny leaves the alley wondering if he will have a suit nice enough for the event. He'll have to contact Kitty- she was raising fashion designer before her untimely death on Johnny's bike- surely she will know what to dress him in.
He wanders around the city for a few hours, trying to get better shots of the buildings and accidentally getting one of Nightwing mid-sneeze. He giggles at the camera, unaware of Lady Gotham sitting in her haunt in the dark clouds above the city, standing over a three-dimensional model of Gotham City and covered in figures of real-life citizens currently residing in her town.
"Hmmm, Jason hasn't had an embarrassing photo today," She mutters, pushing the figure of Red Hood in front of King Phantom's glowing figurine's path. Her gaze falls on Red Robin- her little Tim- as it moves across the city following the live model's movement.
His figure is also glowing, not nearly as brightly as the King's, but the fact it shares the King's glow means the King has unknowingly claimed him.
She hopes that pushing them together in his civilian forms will allow the two to realize their hearts have been given to one another.
"How romantic." She sighs, floating onto her stomach and kicking her feet. "A King in love with a Knight. Society pushes them apart, but their love will conquer all."
"Sister, must you behave in such a childish manner?" A voice cuts in, and Lady Gotham's face twitches. She turns her head to watch her brother's shift between adult and child.
"Brother. What brings you here?" She asks, unbothered by his comment.
"Can I not visit my dearest little sister?" Clockwork asks, reaching over for a one-sided hug. She returns it with a smirk. "Especially when she messes with the life of the King."
"I do not know what you speak of." She huffs, turning her head back to the humans on her board. Around her, thousands and thousands of miniature models appear as she watches everything that is meant to be for the humans.
"Karma, you know better than to interfere with King Phantom's life, especially if it's something as silly as his love life-"
"Ah ah, brother dearest. You are in charge of time, and I control fate. " She grins. "I can guarantee that they are fated to be. I know it."
Clockwork rolls his eyes, shifting into an old man. "You let humans call you Lady Gotham. I highly doubt you know anything."
She hums, grinning as King Phantom's figure drops into a crouch, pointing a mini camera at Red Robin. Quickly, she leans forward to adjust the vigilante in an alluring position, knowing it will cause the King's heart to flutter when he develops the photos.
Clockwork clicks his tongue. "Honestly, don't you have anything better to do?"
"You should leave your tower more often, Brother. Maybe you could find a date and not nag your younger sister constantly." She taps her lips. "That young John Constinune was rather interested in you-"
"I am leaving!"
She laughs. "You can't run away from fate, brother!"
"Watch me!"
Oh, she plans to; after all, what is more amusing to fate than to see people try to defy her? Either they succeed, which is fascinating to watch them conquer all her trials, or they fail, which is entertaining enough to watch them fumble.
Master Post Link
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cupidzgf · 4 months
Text
NEW YEARS EVE | SATORU GOJO
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☁︎‎‎‧₊˚ summary: when things don't go according to plan, satoru has to try to get home in time for new year's eve, but will he make it?
contents: no pronouns, mentioned the reader is wearing a dress, angst, no curse au, rich!gojo, fluffy ending, this isn't that good guys help 😭 w/c: 1.4k a/n: happy new year!!!
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despite everyone in the room, new year's eve is indescribably lonely.
SATORU had left that morning, a promise on his lips of returning in plenty of time to accompany you to geto's party in light of the celebration of the new year.
only night had drawn, the sky periwinkle-turned black by the setting sun, and you had spent hours anxiously waiting for your boyfriend's arrival. in the dress he had bought for this occasion and with your knees bouncing restlessly, the door had never seemed so daunting until then, as hundreds of scenarios filled your mind of why he wasn't responding to any call or text.
however, when the clock hit 10, geto and shoko had called to encourage you to come anyway and leave the penthouse that felt too big without satoru and his personality, in a dress growing more uncomfortable with anxiousness prickling your skin. dread wasn't the right word for how you felt, but the range of emotions raving, cumulating, and racing through your mind filled you with a foreboding sense of apprehension. you agreed, despite your inhibitions.
you arrived at suguru's place, every bit as fancy as your boyfriend's, with a champagne bottle you two had picked up the day before. shoko had been the first to answer the door and welcome you in, apologizing immediately with a grumble about how gojo couldn't be on time, even if it killed him.
though you neglected to tell her he was always on time when it came to you, you took it in stride and were welcomed in by everyone else. all of them were friends from college, though you would have never guessed from the mix-matched group of people. toji and sukuna were playing on the xbox, suguru was sipping champagne along with nanami, and at the same time, choso watched the other tv displaying the new year countdown. the rest were off with family, leaving your get-together to be small and humble.
"is that her?" toji glanced back to confirm it was you. "gojo here? he owes me money."
when the rest finally realized that you came here alone, the pity hung like a dark cloud. you had tried to enjoy yourself regardless, but the fact that no one else had heard from him made your hands shaky and the lump in your throat a little harder to swallow.
toji and sukuna had been quick to invite you over to play mario cart with them to take your mind off things; though they never said as much, you were grateful to them regardless. the rest of your friends had even joined in, resulting in a lot of yelling and laughing during leiri's repeated wins and choso's losing streak. as midnight approaches, your mind still manages to wander back to him, landing you where you are now.
the reporter on tv stands around with others in shibuya on the crossing while the clock ticks down to the last five minutes of the year. toji and sukuna have put down the games (what fun was there playing when sukuna kept winning?) and joined the rest of you congregating around the tv and getting as drunk as possible. though you were doing so a little more than most, to the point where geto politely cut you off.
gojo was still a no-show, and playing off how his absence affected you had worked initially, but the facade was now torn with holes too big to hide the vulnerable part of yourself that couldn't stop texting him. while everyone else had assured you he wouldn't miss new year's and was probably caught up in traffic, hope dwindled into thinly veiled fear the longer your texts went unread.
3 minutes.
excitement bubbled in the room. drinks were being set down, party poppers were being brought out, and yet you were as uneasy as ever without satoru.
choso was quick to come to your rescue and loosen up your nervous disposition by pulling you into the conversation, teasing you about how he'd have to kiss you when the clock struck midnight. you didn't have the heart to tell him the notion made you even more miserable.
1 minute.
the volume on the tv was turned up, each of them eagerly watching the screen as tension rose. shoko smiles brightly as suguru pulls her to his side in a friendly manner, taking her alcohol-filled glass away despite her protests.
the volume was enough to cover the sound of the door knob jingling and the door opening from the other side of the room.
10 seconds.
someone shouted your name.
it is as if the world stopped spinning, and time stood still for this fraction of a second. you can't even get a word out before satoru leaps into your arms and spins you around just as your friends echo the numbers.
5…
he puts you down.
4…
he looks positively breathless, and yet he still grins widely.
3…
you return his contagious smile with your own, your heart pounding so loudly against your ribcage that you can't feel anything else.
2…
appreciation swells over you like a crashing wave while fireworks begin to explode in the sky beyond the expansive windows of the penthouse. rainbows of light scatter in the sky, reflecting in the window and dispersing across his face. they highlight his sharp features and gleaming eyes in a second, so cinematic you can't look away.
1…
he pulls you in.
"happy new year!!!"
your lips crash into satoru's as fiercely passionate emotions take over your senses and fill them with everything that is him. his lips are raw from being bitten, likely from anxiousness, but soft and moldable as they claim yours. squeezed tighter into his body, he pours out every ounce of love, devotion, and hopefulness that tastes sickly sweet on your tongue.
all too soon, however, you both pull away to recover your breaths, panting in a strangely rhythmic way.
"you're here," you whisper in disbelief, white tuffs of hair flopping over his forehead while you search his cerulean irises, bright and alive, to yield an explanation, only to witness them soften imperceptibly.
before you can analyze him and every thought and ugly emotion he's suppressing, he presses his forehead against yours, holding your face in a manner so intimate your throat closes with emotion.
"i'm sorry. fuck, i'm so sorry, sweets. they kept me in a meeting, and i tried to get home as soon as possible, but my phone was dead, and traffic was horrendous…" he inhales deeply, your scent fluttering through his senses delicately. the booms of fireworks, the shouting on tv, and the sounds of celebration dissolve into white noise. his wiry arms pull you impossibly close to his chest.
a soft side, raw and revealing, everything he's been taught to cover with flesh and muscle is bare for your eyes alone. vulnerability is a word he's come to know as he silently pleads for your forgiveness in the wake of his confession. no matter how he hides behind humor to cover emotions, he needs this, he needs you. you are everything he strives to be, a version of himself broken free from the shackles of the gojo empire, from society and its expectations of strength.
you're his everything, despite having never admitted it, and if giving you the gift of the new year makes you smile, he would stop time itself to give you this day again and again.
"a text would have been nice," you chuckle sadly, and his adam's apple bobs.
"yeah–"
"you guys done yet?" the both of you freeze, slowly turning to find your friends staring at you with varying expressions.
"finally decided to show up, huh?" suguru raises an eyebrow, and you can feel gojo's exasperation beside you.
"it wasn't my fault! they trapped me in a meeting, my phone died, oh and don't forget the traffic!" he whines, listing it off on his fingers.
shoko and suguru shake their heads, nanami and choso roll their eyes, and toji pays his gambling money to a very smug sukuna (he bet satoru wouldn't return before midnight).
it catches your boyfriend's attention as he shouts in disbelief, "hey! did you bet on me?!"
the rest of the room descends into chaos, but with him at your side, your hurricane, and your rock, you silently speak your new year wish to the heavens. you take a second to watch the room like an outsider looking in, to let every emotion sink into memory before immersing yourself back into the action.
you've never felt more at home than the one you created with the people beside you.
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©2023 cupidzgf. do not copy, translate, modify, or repost my content onto other sites without my permission
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atomicami · 6 months
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the perfect fit
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model!abby anderson x fashion designer!reader
- summary: it’s the start of your new job working for armani as a fashion designer, and your first assignment is to design and create a suit for an upcoming runway event. despite the fact that you can’t stand your chosen model, you also can’t help but find her very attractive too.
- content: smut MDNI, no outbreak/modern au, nyc living, reader has a degree in fashion design, reader is a bit of a perfectionist, model!abby, abby’s a little cocky, work sex, fingering & strap usage (r!receiving), abby refers to her strap as her cock, size kink, and i think that’s it but lmk if i missed anything
- author’s note: so i was highly inspired by this abby x model!reader fic that i decided to try to write out a fic of my own with this new pairing!! i hope y’all like it :)
also dedicating this one to my girl @whore4abby ily darling 🤍
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New York City was always known to be the place where one’s dreams were meant to fly as high as the skyscrapers that rose in its urban atmosphere. It was known to be the perfect capital city for all professions, including fashion.
Living in New York had always been the dream for you, and although you were now residing there for school, you weren’t exactly fulfilling your dreams just yet. So when you had called your parents one day to break the bad news to them, you knew that they weren’t going to be on board with your sudden change of plans.
“You’re switching majors? But why?” your dad asked through the phone. “I thought you wanted to study law.”
No, you didn’t. Your parents had been telling everyone they knew in your small town that you were going to major in law after high school and become the best lawyer to walk the streets of New York, and as a result, you couldn’t help but select that major just to please them.
“I don’t, Dad…If you had listened to me in the first place, you would know that I never wanted to do that,” you tell him.
“Well, that’s alright, law school isn’t for everyone now.” your dad told you before continuing. “What are you going to study instead? Medicine? Psychology? Business?”
You took a deep breath before continuing. “Fashion design…” you mutter back to him.
You can already imagine the outburst he was going to have. It was almost as if you could feel the anger bubbling within him through the phone.
“Fashion?! Are you seriously out of your mind?!” your dad exclaimed back at you. His reaction was so uncalled for that you had to take him off of speakerphone.
And after a long lecture from him later, he simply told you that he wasn’t going to pay for your tuition anymore before hanging up the phone.
Even though you were expecting that kind of reaction from your parents, your father more specifically, you still couldn’t help but feel so…discouraged. You’ve been wanting to be a fashion designer ever since you were little, and your parents’ lack of support did nothing but steal your happiness in fulfilling your dreams.
But at the same time…you felt determined to prove them wrong. You wanted to show them that you weren’t making this change just take the easy way out, you were doing it because you’ve been wanting to pursue this career your whole life. You wanted to show them that you were meant to be working in a fashion studio, not a courtroom.
Fast forward to now, and you’ve graduated from Parsons at the top of your class with a fashion degree, only to soon land a job working as a fashion designer at one of Giorgio Armani’s establishments right here in New York City.
Once the first day of your new job came around, you needed to give the best impression there, making sure to arrive before your boss did. After all, if it weren’t for Tess selecting you as one of the potential candidates as a fashion designer for that establishment, you’d probably still be job hunting by now.
You sat at your desk, eyeing the surroundings of the large studio you were in at this moment. All of the fabrics, mannequins, tools, and machines just waiting to be used. It still felt like a fever dream to you.
The sound of the opening doors of the warehouse startles you, causing you to and some of the designers in the studio to turn around, while the others are still chattering.
Tess walks into the studio and stands in the middle of the room before bringing everyone’s attention. “Alright everyone,” she shouts with a loud clap of her hands, causing the rest of the room to quiet down. “I have decided to put you all in charge of creating the looks for Armani’s upcoming winter fashion show. Each of you will be given a model to work on, and you are welcome to create whatever you’d like, as long as it meets the requirements for the show.”
“But, isn’t the winter fashion show only a month from now?” one of the designers asked.
“Yes, Yes it is, actually,” Tess replies with a nod. “So I expect to see the best work done by you all within the time being. I’d like to see how well my designers can work under pressure.”
You let out a sigh in frustration and held your face in your hands. How the hell were you going to have a look ready in just a month?
Tess checks the time on her watch before looking up at the clock for reassurance. “The models should be arriving any minute now, once they get here I’ll be assigning them out to everyone, and we’ll start today off by taking their measurements and sketching out designs. When you are finished, I—“ Her words are cut off by the sound of the warehouse doors opening again.
You look over again with the rest of the designers to see another staff member enter the room with a variety of models trailing behind her in a single file line. She then approaches Tess to talk to her for a brief moment before soon exiting the warehouse by herself. “Alright everyone,” Tess shouts out again, looking down at the clipboard that was in her hands. “When I call out your name to your assigned model, I would like you to stand up from your desk so they know who you are.”
As Tess begins to assign the models, the sound of a chair swiveling over to your left makes you turn your head, and you see that it was Dina scooching closer to you. “See anyone you might like?” she whispers over to you, her eyes still fixed on the line of models in the room.
“I honestly could care less about who Tess puts me with,” you whisper back to her, leaning back against your chair and crossing one of your legs over the other. “As long as they don’t give me a hard time, I should be good.”
Dina nods in response, she opens her mouth to respond but is cut off by the sound of Tess calling out your name. As a result, you rise from your seat and stand behind your desk.
“You’ll be working with Anderson as your model,” she tells you, and you watch as Tess looks over to your model and points at you, indicating her to walk over to where you were.
Intimidation strikes through you as she approaches your desk. You can’t really put your finger on it, but from the first impression, you’re quite convinced it's because of her broad figure that stood out from everyone else. You look over to Dina, to which she looks back at you and simply mouths a ‘good luck’ on your end.
Tess soon does a quick check around the room, making sure each designer has a model to work with. “Alright, now that everyone has an assigned model, you can all get started. Remember now, the winter show is a month from today, so I hope you can all make the best use of your time.” and with that, she exits the studio, leaving you and the rest of the designers to be.
Abby has her side resting against your desk, watching you draw out some looks on your sketchbook. “Just so you know…” she starts, leaning in closer to your right side. “I’m like, the biggest model here, so don’t be surprised when you run out of fabric for that pretty outfit you’ve planned out for me.”
You look over to Abby and roll your eyes before setting your pencil down and opening the side drawer of your desk. “Yeah, I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” you tell her as you take out the soft tape measure from your drawer and stand up from your seat. “Come on, let me take your measurements now.”
Based on that first interaction alone, you knew that Abby was going to be a distraction for your project, and boy you were right.
This past month has felt like hell for you, and Abby’s cocky, conceited persona wasn’t making it any better for you.
Things were fine at first, at least enough for you to manage. But it wasn’t until the second fitting that she’s been starting to really get on your nerves.
The fitting room in the Armani establishment was spacious, each designer/model pair had their spot to do the fittings and make any adjustments if needed.
Abby walks over to your side of the fitting room fully dressed in her runway outfit. You had beautifully created a navy blue suit that complimented her freckled skin and blue eyes perfectly, and the entire outfit had Swarovski crystals sewn all over the place. It was a timeless and classic look for the show.
It’s a shame that your model has to be so arrogant for the time being.
You look over to her and snap your fingers. “Stand over there,” you tell her, pointing over to the small, round altar that was next to you. Abby simply obliges and stands up on the altar to face you, both of her hands crossed at her front.
You notice this and walk over to her, grabbing at her hands. “I need your hands at your sides, you’re a model, not a security guard.” you tell her sternly, separating her hands so each one is at her side. You then sit down on the stool behind you, bringing yourself down to face her lower half so you can check the fitting of her suit pants.
Starting at the bottom of her pants and making your way up, the pants seem to fit well on her so far. Given Abby’s large build, the fit is as snug as can be, but not too tight to where it would make her uncomfortable when walking. If you had made it any tighter, you’re convinced that the fabric might rip.
However, it wasn’t until you look at the waistline of the pants. For some reason, that area looked unusually tighter than it was compared to the last fitting. The zipper on her pants looked like it was going to burst. It’s almost as if she was hiding something underneath…
You tap the side of her thigh to get her attention, causing her to tilt her head down. ”What’s this?” you ask, pointing at the slight bulge that was sticking out of her pants.
She simply smirks back at you and shakes her head. “Wouldn’t you like to know…” she mumbles out, looking back up.
Your eyes were still fixed on her face, and you grabbed at her crotch, causing her to slightly jerk back. You knew damn well what it was that she had in those pants.
“Jesus,” she says, looking back down at you. “Chill out, will you?”
“Take it off,” you tell her sternly, standing back up from the stool. “I’m not going to have my look completely ruined as a result from one of your little games.”
You were close to having an outburst in the middle of the fitting room since you were starting to get some looks from some of the other designers and models in the room, including Dina. It was a good thing that Tess wasn’t there to see it though.
Abby simply rolls her eyes at you and clears her throat before stepping off of the altar and exiting the fitting room to go change. The two of you were being quite immature about this, but you were seriously in need of your look to be perfect for the show, and Abby was keeping you from doing so.
A couple more weeks pass by and before you know it, the day of the show is just right around the corner from now.
Your shift at the studio had just ended, and people were starting to gather their things to leave, while you still sat by your large mannequin, making adjustments and adding touches to your look.
Dina walks up behind you and taps your shoulder, causing you to pull out one of your headphones from your ear and turn around.
“Hey,” she says. “Some of us are going to head out to Dalton’s for drinks. Wanna come with?”
You shake your head in response. “I can’t, I really have to finish this look in time for the show, I have to make sure everything’s perfect.”
You hear her let out a sigh and nod. “Alright well, just don’t stress yourself out, okay?” she asks, gently squeezing your shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” she says, and you nod back at her as you watch her put her bag over her shoulder and exit the studio.
Once she leaves, you notice Tess at walking towards you at the corner of your eye. “Hey kid,” she says leaning against your desk with her arms crossed, keys jingling in one of her hands. “You plan on leaving soon?”
You let out a sigh and turned your head to face her. “Just let me stay a little longer, Tess…I promise I’ll be out of here soon.”
She sighs back and hesitates for a moment while rubbing the back of her neck. “Alright, I’ll give you an hour, but that’s it. I don’t want you spending the night here.” She then gets off your desk. “I’ll see you tomorrow, the doors will lock automatically once you leave.”
You nod in response and thank her before watching her walk away from the dim lighting that shined on your side of the studio. You were instantly relieved to be able to have some time for yourself to work on the suit.
However, that doesn’t last long when another set of footsteps enter the studio and begin to approach you from behind once again.
A large hand grabs at your shoulder, this time causing you to jump up and turn around in fear for a moment before realizing who it is. “Jesus, Anderson…you scared the hell out of me,” you say, trying to catch your breath. “What are you even doing here? Your final fitting isn’t until Friday.”
Abby lets out a chuckle at your frightened reaction and shakes her head. “I just came here to get my car keys,” she says, grabbing them off the shelf where she had left them. “I left them last time I was here.”
You rolled your eyes and stood back up to face your desk and away from her. “Well, now that you have your keys, can you go now? I need to keep working.”
As you were about to put your headphones back on, Abby began to speak once again. “What’s your deal?” she asks you.
You let out a huff and set your phone down before looking back at her. “My deal is that I’ve had to deal with your arrogance this past month and it’s been driving me insane. All I want right now is to have this time to myself so I can finish this suit in time for the show.”
The smirk that was growing on Abby’s face right now was so big you could practically see it from your peripheral vision. She then begins to walk around until she’s behind you on your desk. “It seems like you could loosen up a bit, you know…” she tells you as she slightly leans in closer to your ear, trapping you between your desk and her chest. You could already feel a familiar bulge poking at your lower back. It was that same bulge that you were just grabbing at in the fitting room not too long ago.
You roll your eyes at her in response. “Is that so?” you whisper back to her, just enough so she can hear you. “And what might that be, exactly?”
Her hands make their way down to your waist, grabbing you and turning you around so you are now face-to-face with her. “How about I show you, yeah?” she whispers to you, to which you nod desperately.
Despite how much you couldn’t stand her, you really couldn’t help but be into her at the same time, and not only has she also been aware of it, but she felt the same way with you too.
You feel her hands move from your waist down to the buttons of your pants, and you look down at your lap as a result. “Let’s see what we have here now…” she murmurs, slowly undoing your pants and sliding them off your legs and to the ground. Once your pants were fully removed, she helped give you a boost so you could sit up on your desk.
Abby instantly opens your legs the second your ass hits your desk, immediately eyeing the visible wet patch that was seeping through your black underwear. “Well well well, what do we have here…” she mutters out, hooking a finger underneath your underwear and shifting it to the side, causing your wet pussy to be exposed to her and the cold air of the studio. “This all for me?” she asks, looking back up at you.
All you can simply do is bite your lip and nod as you try to resist the cold air hitting against your pussy. “Fuck, yes, Abs…it’s all for you…” you whine out to her.
“That’s what I thought,” she mutters back. Two of her fingers make their way into your cunt without warning, causing you to jerk back and involuntarily close your thighs shut. However, her other hand makes her way into the middle just in time before you do so. “Nuh-uh, don’t get shy on me now, princess,” she says, forcing your legs back open to stand in the middle. “You’ve been so bold with me this past month, so you’re not backing out of this now.”
Her fingers successfully go into your pussy the second time around, causing a moan to escape from your mouth as a result. Abby’s fingers were huge, to say the least, but they managed to stretch your pussy out so well. There’s no way that your pussy can’t take anything bigger than this.
But what Abby was about to pull out next was going to prove you wrong.
As Abby’s fingers continue to pump inside you, she begins to undo her jeans with her free hand, effortlessly getting them open and slightly pushing them down to her thighs. She then digs that same hand into her boxers and pulls out her black strap-on, causing your eyes to widen at the immense size. She was fucking huge.
“A-Abby…” you stammer out to her, quickly shaking your head. “That—That’s not gonna fit…It’s too—“
“Yes it will,” she says, cutting off your words. “My cock’s gonna fit. You’ll see.”
Her fingers quickly slide out of your cunt, leading you to whimper at the loss. With both of her hands now, she rubs her cock against your folds, collecting some of your wetness before sliding it into your tight hole. The stretch of the strap was a bit uncomfortable at first, but after a moment, you were shocked to see how well your pussy was easily taking it from the tip down to the base. It really was the perfect fit.
Abby smirks as she looks down at the piece of silicone that connected your bodies. “See? I told you it’ll fit,” she mutters out, bottoming out completely inside you. “This fucking pussy was made to take my cock.”
You were already starting to feel dizzy over Abby’s cock nestling inside your pussy. You were desperate for some movement.
“A-Abby…” you whine out to her, squeezing her bicep. “N-Need you t-to move…”
“What’s that, princess? You want me to move my cock?” she asks, to which you nod in response. “Need me to thrust my big cock in that desperate little pussy of yours? Don’t worry, baby, I’ll do just that for you.”
And with that, she begins to slowly thrust inside you. You could practically feel it all within her movements, the girth, the veins, hell, even the tip would kiss at your cervix every time she bottomed out into you.
Abby grabs at both of your thighs, slowly starting to speed up her pace. “I think I can go a little faster now, don’t you think? Your pretty pussy’s already doing so well for me, angel…”
“Fuck, y-yes, Abby…f-faster…” you slur out as you throw your head back in pleasure, gripping both of your hands onto your desk while she continues to thrust inside of you.
One of her hands leaves your thigh and grabs at your jaw, tilting it down to face her. “Look at that now, my girl’s getting so cockdrunk for me…I bet it feels good, doesn’t it?”
Abby’s gaze soon brings down to your chest, smirking once she notices your hard nipples poking through your shirt. She then lets go of your jaw and pulls your shirt up to your tits, watching in awe at the mere sight of them. “No bra?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. “I didn’t take you to be such a slut like that…It’s almost as if you were waiting for this to happen.”
At this point, your brain was losing focus, and you couldn’t figure out what Abby was saying to you right now. Once she sped up her pace again, all you could think about now was getting to your release.
Abby now has her gaze focused on the sight of your pussy, watching as it squeezes and contracts around the strap with every thrust. “Looks like you’re getting close, princess. Are you gonna come for me? Gonna be a good girl and cum on my cock?”
“Y-yes, f-fuck! I-I’m getting close…” you whine back to her, leading her to thrust even faster inside of you, your moans soon getting loud enough for them to practically echo inside the whole studio.
It didn’t take long for you to reach your peak. Your cunt pulsed a few more times around Abby’s strap before cumming completely with a loud moan of her name, causing a white ring to form around it.
As you began to catch your breath, Abby slowly pulled herself out of you, groaning as she saw a thick white string of your cum connecting between your pussy and the tip of her strap before soon breaking. She then ran her fingers through her length, collecting all of your release before soon sticking them inside of your mouth while it was still agape.
After sucking her fingers clean, she pulls them out of your mouth and tucks her strap back into her boxers before putting her jeans back on. You watch as she briefly gets down onto her knees and brings her face into your fucked out pussy, gently licking and sucking it clean, savoring each bit of it as she did so.
Once you were all clean, Abby rose back to her feet, helping you with your underwear and with the rest of your clothes as well. Her hands then moved from the button of your pants back down to your hips, guiding you off of your desk and back on your feet. You stumble a little bit into her at the sudden movement.
“Hey, you okay?” she asks softly, catching you in her arms.
“Y-yeah, yeah I’m okay…just a little worn out.” you pant out to her as you gain back your composure to turn around towards your desk and gather up your things to leave.
“Well, at least let me give you a ride back to your place,” she insists, grabbing her keys off your desk. “It’s already late outside, and I don’t think it’s quite safe for you to be walking around out there at this time.”
You hesitate for a moment at first. You’d honestly hate to inconvenience Abby to give you a ride home, but given that she was the one offering, you didn’t seem to mind too much about it. In all fairness, it was already late hours in the city, and given the damage she’d done to your legs, there was no way you were going to last walking for five minutes down the street. So you end up accepting her offer.
“Yeah, sure…I’m not stopping you, honestly…” you tell her with a chuckle as you put your bag over your shoulder, ready to head out.
You then follow along beside Abby as the two of you exit the establishment and make your way to wherever her car is situated. Abby opens the passenger door to let you in first before letting herself in on the other side. She then starts up her car before merging into the city’s busy roads.
The ten-minute drive flew by surprisingly fast, and before you knew it, she was now parked in front of your apartment complex. She leans in to give you a quick kiss before soon pulling away. “So, I’ll see you on Friday, then?” she asks.
You can’t help but smirk back at her, even though you were biting your lip to hide it. “I’ll see you on Friday, Anderson.” you tell her with a nod before opening the door to let yourself out.
But Abby doesn’t leave just yet. Instead, she makes sure that you get into your apartment safe and sound. Once your lights were on, that was her cue to go.
You watch from your apartment window as she drives back into the busy roads, soon disappearing from your view.
And for the first time this month, you have to admit that you’re now actually looking forward to seeing her again.
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a/n: i hope you guys liked this fic!! i might make another part if this goes well?? but aside from that my next fic will be bfm!abby for those who are waiting, i promise 🤞🏼 lmk if you’d like to be tagged for when i post it!!
(also ty for 700, i love you guys 🫶🏻)
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