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zepskies · 11 months

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Break Me Down - Part 11

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

AN: Happy Father's Day and early Juneteenth! In honor of the holiday weekend, here's an early chapter update. 😘

Word Count: 4,000 Tags/Warnings: Violence and peril, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

Part 11: The Lion’s Den

“Where is she?” Ben asked, once he and Frank were loaded in the car.

Loco and his team had to stay behind as their distraction for escape. If they weren’t slaughtered, they’d be taken into custody.

Ben knew he could’ve wasted all of them, Butcher, his team, the CIA, but the nuclear power in his chest had refused to cooperate…

Anyway, Black Noir hadn’t been there. So it was all the more useless to stick around. The real plan was with you, and he was very surprised that you’d stuck to it…but maybe he shouldn’t have been.

“She was brought to the Tower,” Frank informed him.

Ben smirked. “Good. But pretty fucking stupid of Stan to stick around there when he knew I’d be coming.”

He looked over and noticed Frank’s frown as he drove.

“Unless he’s not at the Tower,” Frank said.

Ben’s smirk fell. Why would that prick take her there if…

“We have to be open to the possibility that his Chief of Security is taking the matter of his daughter into his own hands,” Frank said. “Or she’s improvising.”

Ben frowned.

That didn’t change when they arrived at the Tower, and attempted to use the entrance through the back garage to avoid attention. But it didn’t matter.

The entire squad of Vought security, included what looked like some added muscle (hopped up on what smelled like V24), met them when they reached the lobby of the building. Now that the Seven had been disbanded, there was no pretense of “good guys vs. bad guys.” It was just defense and siege.

And in front of them all was Black Noir.

“There you are,” Ben said, but the other supe didn’t even tilt his head in greeting. He was a still statue, an attack dog given a single mission.

When Noir surged forward, Ben ran to meet him. It was a clash of blade to shield, fist to fist, grappling and reflexes that only Compound V could endow. The match tore through the lobby, then up the large staircase as Ben continued to fight his way up to Stan’s office.

Frank was already on his way up to you, but it would take him time with Vought security crawling all over them. He was good, and temporarily a supe, but he was still just one man.

Meanwhile, Ben and Noir’s fight spilled into the upper floors, through walls and offices and screaming employees trying to get out of their way.

Once they reached near the floor below Stan’s office, Ben got an arm around Black Noir’s neck, and with his free hand tried to unmask him. He wanted to know for sure what lied underneath it, if it was actually the Noir he knew. Or if it was something else entirely.

But Noir twisted with superior reflexes and flipped Ben hard over his shoulder. In the process, he ripped off Ben’s helmet. His brown hair hung over his brows as he pushed to his feet, deliberately taking his time.

When he turned, Noir was standing there with the helmet crunched in his hand. Rolling his neck, Ben prepared to jump back into the fight, but a new sound reached his ears.

He heard you on the floor above. And you were fighting someone…

Ben pressed a finger to the comm in his ear.

“Frank, you got eyes on her?”

V24 had endowed the man with x-ray vision. A moment later, Frank patched through while he struggled and fought.

“She needs help,” he said gravely.

Ben took his hand off the comm, gritting his teeth. Black Noir was still waiting on him, attuned to Ben’s every move as the other supe brandished one of his blades.

Shit, Ben thought. He needed to end this.

Right fucking now.

That resolve helped him take a deep breath, then summon the energy inside him. He focused with the aim of blasting a clean stream of power at Black Noir; not enough to take out the whole building, but enough to take out just him.

His insides felt molten when the power collected, and finally released at his target.

Noir covered himself at the last moment with a piece of fallen debris (a half-crumbled wall), but it only created a small buffer. The force of the blast itself pushed him down the hall and through the side of the building.

Meanwhile, you were holding your own…but you were also getting beat to hell.

You were battered, with blood dribbling down the corner of your mouth from a particularly bad hit.

You were still standing though.

“You’ve gotten soft,” Jon remarked. He’d broken a sweat, had some bruises, and was panting for breath just like you. But he was more in control as he swatted a well-aimed, yet ultimately weak fist as your strength waned. He used his own to smack you down again.

“I gave you time to come around, and this is what you did with it,” he said, shaking his head. “Disappointing.”

When you tried to stand on shaking legs, he kicked you in the dead center of your chest. You felt your ribs crack as you fell back into the glass coffee table.

You gasped for breath, turning onto your side as glass pricked at your back, your sides, your arm. You coughed, wincing at the agony of knife-like pain near your lungs. Blood flecked from your mouth onto your arm, and for a moment, you stared at it in a daze.

But then Jon was above you. You tried to swipe at his face, but he bat your hand away, his brows furrowed angrily. He turned you back onto your back and wrapped a hand around your neck. Your eyes flew wide with panic.

He squeezed with enough pressure that it wouldn’t crush your windpipe, but it was sure to knock you out eventually. You slapped and clawed at his hand, but he only shushed you.

“What you need now is what you’ve always needed. A firm hand,” he said. “But I’m going to help you. I promise, I will.”

The fight drained out of you as it became impossible to breathe, and harder still to block out his words from entering your brain.

But then, the vice around your throat was gone. Oxygen poured back into your lungs as you gasped, then coughed again when your fractured ribs protested.

Your eyelids fluttered open in time to see your father thrown hard into the far wall. You heard the sick crack and breaking of bone as he landed.

Still, you struggled to breathe.

Tears leaked from your eyes when you looked up and found Ben. His helmet was missing, and he wore a furious, steely frown. You opened your mouth, but nothing came out except for more coughing, and more blood.

To your surprise, he tucked his shield on his back and bent down to scoop you up into his arms.

You cringed, uttering an agonized sound when he tried to move you.

Ben hesitated. Looking down at you, some of his anger drained. He made a slower ascent as he straightened to his full height.

And without a word, he carried you out of the room and down the ruined hallway. All the while, you stared at the side of his face. His jaw was still clenched, his brows knitted, his eyes set dead ahead.

You wondered why he had to wait for moments like this to show you who he truly was.

“What are you, some kind of hero?” you managed to quip, offering a small smile.

Ben glanced down at you, and gradually smirked. “Something like that.”

When his foot slipped on a piece of debris, he righted himself quick. But the jerking movement jostled you, eliciting another pained whimper. Your hand gripped at his chest, digging into the grooves of his suit.

“Hold on,” he murmured. His lips briefly pressed to the crown of your head. “We’re getting the fuck outta here.”

Your eyes closed at the tender touch, and a few more tears spilled down your cheeks.

“He…knew,” you managed to say. “Knew I was lying.”

“I know,” said Ben. “I should’ve fucking known better.”

You marveled at that near apology. Your lips trembled as you rested your head against his chest. You just couldn’t help it anymore.

“Was my idea,” you admitted.

“Yeah, well, evidently not all your ideas are aces,” he said.

You could’ve gotten angry, but you saw the way he moved with care, trying not to slip again for your sake. You tried at a smile.

“Guess not,” you said, though you bit your lip at the pain that seemed to radiate through your entire body. Ben seemed to notice.

“Just relax,” he said, a deep rumble. But there was a soothing note to it, you thought. Or maybe, you just liked the sound of his voice.

Then silence fell between the two of you, both comfortable and tense as Ben focused on potential threats in his surroundings.

All the while, you continued to rest your eyes. Instead of your pain, you tried to concentrate on his steady heartbeat beneath your cheek.

“It’s about fucking time,” you eventually heard Ben grouse.

You opened your eyes and were relieved to see Frank exiting the stairwell to meet you and Ben. His face and black tactical gear were splattered with blood, but he looked fine, more or less. His gaze roamed over you with his usual stoicism, but you thought you saw a glint of concern.

“I take it Stan Edgar isn’t here,” said Frank.

“You could fucking say that,” Ben snarked. “Let’s just get the hell out of here.”

“Sir.” Frank saw something ahead, behind you. Ben turned to find Black Noir silently standing in the middle of the hall, with a large, suspicious-looking gun in his hands.

Without taking his eyes off Noir, Ben gestured to Frank. He came up beside you, and Ben passed you into Frank’s arms.

“Get her out of here,” Ben ordered. With a nod, Frank carried you back the way he came, towards the staircase. You tried to peer over his shoulder.

“He shouldn’t face Noir alone,” you said, even though every breath was a challenge with the sharp pain in your chest.

“He’ll meet us after,” Frank told you. But as soon as he started down the stairs, a fresh team of Vought security and police came to meet you.

Meanwhile, Ben stared down the hall at his opponent. Black Noir activated the strange gun, which lit up with a blue energy.

“You can bring out any kind of fancy artillery you want, but it’s not going to stop me from killing you,” Ben taunted.

Noir remained silent, of course, but he aimed the gun and fired. It shot a potent, crystal blue beam of energy that ate through Ben’s shield, and eventually hit him in the chest before he could finish revving up his own power. The blast from the gun, it wasn’t hot.

It was ice cold. So frigid that it extinguished the heat that had been building in his chest, but it wasn’t diffusing his power completely…it just made it even harder to control.

And the resulting backlash was overwhelming.

Ben woke slowly, like wading through molasses. Usually his mind was sharp, even when he woke from a booze-induced coma. Now he felt groggy, and it was hard to focus or even force his body to sit up on the hard cot he was laying on.

Glancing down, he realized he’d been changed out of his suit. He was dressed in a plain gray shirt and matching pants, no shoes. He knew a prison outfit when he saw one, just as he now knew where he was: a white padded cell.

Fuck.

At least it was better than a frigid coffin…but in his mind, not by much.

He slid his legs over and managed to push up onto his feet.

Why’s it so fucking misty in here? he thought, waving his hand through the smokey air. And why was he so tired?

He soon got his answer when he realized who stood at the large window at the front of his cell.

Stan Edgar.

The man himself, dressed in a well-tailored navy suit, was watching him with crossed arms.

“We did hope you would remain on sabbatical,” said Stan. “But I had a feeling you would return, and come directly to us.”

Stan gestured to the large cell. “This was our contingency plan.”

Ben made his way, with difficulty, closer to Stan, who pointed at the air vents above that were pumping in a gas of some kind.

“A light mist of Novichok,” Stan explained. “Enough to keep you docile.”

“And if I’m not?” Ben asked. His voice was edged with grit, and the promise of retribution.

“We can up the dose, put you to sleep indefinitely,” Stan replied. “But you have my attention. What would you like to discuss?”

“The conversation I planned on having was…a little different,” Ben said darkly. “But first, let’s start with what you used to clone Black Noir.”

“I suppose there’s no real harm in telling you,” Stan said. Even his voice was grating on Ben’s ears, the smug prick.

“We kept some of Homelander’s blood as an insurance policy. But, we’ve learned from our mistakes.”

“Right,” Ben scoffed. “How’s that?”

“This Noir is not a carbon copy, but nor is he a megalomaniac. He’s under our control,” Stan said.

“Until he isn’t,” Ben snarked. If he thought about it, that was something you would say. Maybe your penchant for smart-ass remarks had gotten into his head.

“And that new gun?” he asked. “Don’t tell me your little lab rats put that together just for me.”

Stan’s lips made a wry turn.

“It was a breakthrough project. Temporarily destabilizes the energy you generate when you charge up like a Power Puff Girl.” Stan thought for a moment, then inclined his head. “A reference, I realize, which may be lost on you.”

“So what’s the play here?” Ben said. He was getting impatient. “You know, when I break out, things aren’t gonna be pretty.”

Stan didn’t seem bothered by the clear threat.

“In the meantime,” he said, “you won’t be alone.”

Stan stepped back and revealed the cell right across the hall. Through the window, Ben could see you, lying unconscious on a shitty cot in similar gray pajamas. His brows crunched as he narrowed his eyes, trying to peer in closer. You looked like you’d been bandaged up, at least.

“You also managed to put my Chief of Security in Intensive Care, but his daughter should be fine…if a bit worse for wear,” Stan informed him.

Ben glared back, his lips curling. Sloppy of him. He should’ve made sure that bastard was dead.

“That’s cute, considering he’s the demented fuck who beat her to hell,” Ben said.

Stan rose a solitary brow. “And at whose behest did she enter the lion’s den?”

Ben had nothing to say to that.

You woke with a pained groan before your eyes even opened. Your body felt like a walking welt.

Your brain pounded like bongo drums, your chest felt tender with every infinitesimal movement, but you realized that you’d been seen to medically, at least. Your head was bandaged, and you felt that the blood had been wiped from your face and arms.

You looked up and found, with a sigh, that you were indeed in a cell. But you softened when you found Ben through the large glass window, in a cell of his own. He was sitting on his bed, arms crossed, with his back against the wall. His eyes found yours, and his lips twitched.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

He sounded off. Tired, you thought. And you noticed a steady mist being piped into his room.

Shit. Novichok, you surmised with a frown.

“You okay?” you asked.

Ben chuckled a little. “You’re the one who looks like hell.”

“Why, thank you,” you replied wryly.

There was a pitcher and a cup of water on a tray, a small paper cup of what you assumed were painkillers, and an ice pack next to you on the cot.

You hesitated on the pills, but in light of your incredible pain, you had no choice. You took the pills, drank the water, and grabbed the ice pack, pressing it against your sternum. You sat up all the way with a slow gait and a pained groan.

“Go slow,” he warned. “Bet you’re missing that Temp. V right about now.”

You rolled your eyes at him.

“How’d you get caught?” he asked.

That succeeded in dimming your mood. You explained that Frank had been forced to set you on your feet when you were confronted by more security and a police squad.

The man had been a one-man weapon; hopped up on V24 as he was, he managed to fight his way down to the garage, where you slowly, painfully crept down there.

You and Frank had almost reached his car, but you held him back. You were stubborn about waiting on Ben, even considered going back for him.

That was when the shot rang out, hitting Frank point blank in the chest.

Before you could even bend to help him, you were taken, dragged back into the building, and knocked out before you could take your captor’s gun.

You tried in vain to wipe away fresh tears while you retold the story.

Bottom line: Frank’s death was your fault. Though while he frowned in disappointment, Ben didn’t seem to hold it against you.

“Good on ya, Frank,” Ben murmured. “You went down fucking swingin’.”

“What about you? What happened with Black Noir?” you asked after a moment. Sniffling, you met Ben’s eyes.

He eventually told you about the strange gun Vought had commissioned just for him. And the more you listened, the deeper your frown became. It sounded impossible.

“Makes you wonder what else they’ve been cooking up in that lab,” you muttered.

“Other than Noir?” Ben quipped. He told you about that too.

“We can figure this out,” you said. “If nothing else, my team, the CIA, they’re looking for both of us…if for different reasons.”

Ben scoffed at that. “A silver lining there. Make no mistake, we’re getting the fuck out of here. Just…need a minute to think.”

But he was starting to wane. It was taking all his energy to concentrate on your voice, to even keep his eyes open. The steady stream of gas being pumped into his cell made it damn near impossible, and it was frustrating beyond belief.

Because if he fell asleep now, there was no telling when he’d wake up. And fuck if Ben would ever admit to the panic he felt welling up into his chest.

“Aaah, fuck!” he growled, pounding a fist against the wall.

You noticed, biting your lip in concern…until an idea made you smile. It was something you used to do to distract your sister when she was little.

“Why are colds bad criminals?” you asked.

Ben just blinked at you. “What?”

He asked not because he understood what you were doing, but because he was genuinely confused.

“Because they’re easy to catch,” you said, making a drumming motion with your hands. “Buddum-ch.”

Your neighbor just stared back at you, unimpressed.

“Okay, not a fan of that one. Let me see…okay,” you raised a finger. “What does a baby computer call its father?”

Ben’s eyes narrowed, like he couldn’t tell if you were serious.

“Data!” you said, biting your lip at an embarrassed smile. It curved Ben’s lips, but he was stubborn.

“Why was 6 afraid of 7?” you asked.

“Jesus Christ, enough…” he muttered.

“Because 7’s a dick, that’s why,” you said. And your straight face lasted for all of three seconds before you ended up giggling. It hurt your bruised body, but it lightened you to see the reluctant smile tug its way onto Ben’s face.

“All right,” he said at last. He briefly closed his eyes, trying to remember a joke he’d heard Loco tell. “How do you make a pool table laugh?”

You smiled. “How?”

“Tickle its balls,” Ben said. Your answering snort deepened his smile into a smirk.

“Playing bridge is just like sex,” you said. Ben shook his head. His grandmother used to play fucking bridge.

But regardless, he took the bait.

“How’s that?”

“If you don’t have a good partner, you better have a good hand,” you said with a smirk.

Ben made a sound of amusement, though it wasn’t quite a laugh. You traded these back and forth, each trying to make the other crack with progressively dirtier jokes (though you suspected Ben was just trying to disgust you).

You considered yourself the winner when Ben finally chortled a deep, belly laugh that showed his charming smile.

It made you smile in return.

Ben rested a hand on his chest, but when his mirth died down, he realized just how tired he was. Still, he wasn’t ready to let go of this. His connection with you tethered him to reality, even if reality sucked dick right now.

His gaze met yours. “Why don’t you sing something, crooner?”

You bit your lip once again. “Like what?”

Ben’s eyes closed.

“You know the one,” he said. A softer smile graced your lips, though he couldn’t see it.

“You’re getting sentimental in your old age,” you teased. He chuckled.

“Just sing, for fuck’s sake.”

His brows were knitted, like he was trying all he could to stay awake. You took pity on him.

“If I didn’t care, more than words can say…” you began to sing softly. “If I didn’t care…would I feel this way?”

Every extended note was painful, but it was worth it to see his face relax.

Stan Edgar’s lips pursed, and he set down his cell phone on his desk. Victoria was screening his calls.

Disappointing, he thought, but not unexpected. He surveyed the cleanup crew wiping up debris, glass, and blood from the lounge area with a dispassionate gaze.

This was going to take a while.

So after drumming his fingers on the mahogany surface, Stan decided to push up from his desk and head downstairs via the elevator. It took him all the way down to Level 0, the home of one of Vought’s most secure R&D labs.

There his most trusted scientist, Dr. Tonya Baker, was at the helm with her team at work on various projects. Most of which were not sanctioned by the government.

Stan folded his hands behind his back and reached her side, and she set down a beaker filled with a green, buzzing liquid.

“Good afternoon, sir,” she greeted.

“Tonya, you know what I’m about to ask,” he said. She bobbed her head and turned to face him in her rolling desk chair.

“We’re still working on solutions. Without his cooperation, safely extracting Soldier Boy’s DNA is a tricky thing,” she said.

“You don’t say?” Stan said dryly. “What are our options?”

“Well, needles will only break, as you know,” said Dr. Baker. “The scientists in Russia found that only Soldier Boy is strong enough to break his own skin.”

“And I doubt he’ll open a vein for us,” Stan said, “even if we threaten to put him to sleep.”

He didn’t even think leveraging with the girl would aid, more than complicate their goals. While it was something to consider, Stan would rather find the path of least resistance here. Soldier Boy was…volatile at best.

“How much of Homelander’s blood remains?” he asked.

“None,” the doctor replied. “We used the last of it to clone Black Noir. And a hair sample is not enough to create additional subjects…at the very least, a urine sample. Even Dr. Vogelbaum managed that.”

Stan sent her shrewd look. If only he still had Dr. Vogelbaum in his employ. If only the man were still alive.

What a waste of a talented, resourceful man.

“That will be a problem,” Stan said.

“Not necessarily.” Dr. Baker adjusted a monitor screen at her desk. It displayed the feed from Soldier Boy’s cell.

She pointed to the toilet in the corner of the cell. Then she called over one of her assistants.

“Tell Maintenance to cut the water, and then a section of the pipes.”

AN: Okay. 😅 I know I'm gonna get some mixed reviews on this one (Let me know what you thought!).

But despite the teaser, I think you'll enjoy where the story's headed next...

Next Time:

They wheeled in what looked like a large metal casket. You had only seen one of these in pictures, but it had to be a cryochamber.

A doctor in her mid-fifties accompanied them, giving directions on how to safely enter Ben’s cell. Your eyes widened.

“What the hell are you doing?” you shouted.

Panic trilled down your spine as the guards fitted themselves with special suits and gas masks. The doctor turned toward you as the guards led you out of your cell and into the hall.

“You’re being transported,” she informed you.

Keep Reading: PART 12

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List:

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26 @spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

@xoxovienna @katherineann83 @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28 @nancymcl @ashbatz @secretdreamlandmentality @kristophalis @wonderland2022 @emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow

@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @karnellius @kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun @lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2

@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420 @beautiful-life-coded @tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67

#The Lion's Den #soldier boy #the boys #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #the boys season 3 #soldier boy/ben x reader #the boys au #enemies to lovers #frenemies to lovers #private investigator!reader #the boys amazon #soldier boy smut #break me down #Part 11 #zepskies writes

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pink-onyx-au · 10 months

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Doesn't the Big Donut make they're own donuts now? So wouldn't it just be stuff like dough, sprinkles, fillings and frostings as well as Lion Lickers? Also, what do you mean by "peel them"?

#pink onyx au #steven #jasper #steven universe au #steven universe #fusion #steven universe future #c423art #ceephorart #pink onyx #den notes #lion lickers #onyx speaks

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hcdragonwrites · 7 months

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HAVE A WIP

I have been writing this week. Its just been charting chapters and getting a core theme of my book set in cement for NaNoWirMo. No writings for others this week but have a wip of my own JTTW spin! Reluctant Pilgrim is posted on my Ao3 (since its just my own personal fic i decided to just post it there) and its my take on “what if the pilgrims had a women travel with them?”.

Probably start writing for fanfics other then my own next week or the following. I have a secret stash on a side blog that i throw all the things that spark my brain- and i have to flip through them to see what i want to do next.

Theres protective Wukong over pregnant Willow from Journey to the Au that i want to write. Then theres Semis Lion Den Au and THAT has been itching my brain.

Also I promised Sophie i would write something happy for her after the HELL i put her through with Macaque (bad man stinky man). I just have to pick which one to work on first.

#hcwrites #writing stuff #personal things #writing wip #jttw au #my own fanfic work!#jttw tag #jttw fanfic #thinking about what fanfic i want to do next is hard #im very tempted to do lion den au #but also theres the very overprotective Wukong eith pregnant willow i wanna touch on #then i do owe Sophie from JTTW Monkeybuisness a happy story aftet the hell i wrote her in #🤔 gotta think on this one man #TUMBLR ATE WHAT I HAD WRITTEN BEFORE HOW DARE #I EAT TUMBLR FOR EATING MY TEXTS

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jacklyn-flynn · 1 year

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I'm late! I know my incredible sister-witch @kemvee has already gone to bed, so it's a good thing she got her present earlier. Regardless, I wanted you all to be able to enjoy her present because it's a continuation of the present I wrote for her last year!

It takes place a few weeks after the end of the first chapter of The Lion's Den and shows Amie and Cullen's adorable attempts to get to know each other on more than just a physical level.

And then later on a physical level too.

I hope you enjoy it as much as she did! Sneak peek under the cut.

Nudging the bedroom door open with his foot, he did thankfully find her in bed. Unfortunately, he’d either taken too long or she was more tired than she’d been willing to admit. Setting aside the tray, he unfolded the thick blanket at the foot of the bed and pulled it over her sleeping form.

When he straightened and turned away, he was surprised to feel her hand suddenly grasp his wrist. “Are you sleeping ‘ere?” she asked, voice slurred with sleep. She hadn’t even opened her eyes.

Cullen smiled. “Am I?”

“Mmhmm,” she hummed in the affirmative. “Promise to keep m’hands to m’self.”

“As you wish, my sweet.”

#kemvee is a gift from the maker #did you see what she made herself for her birthday?!#amie trevelyan #cullen rutherford #reverse au of her educating the commander courtesan au #treating aus like an uno game #the lion's den brothel #how many years of this until everyone gets bored of the story?#'cause i'm still in love #aren't they just the sweetest #commander cullen #courtesan cullen

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violetparakeetdraweroffurries · 1 year

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In my version of WC, Lionheart and Frostdawn (Frostfur) are still mates, but Daykit (Thornkit) is their only kit and since I've made very significant changes to Tigerstar I, Tiger can't be Goldenflower's mate, so now she's paired of to Patchshine (Patchpelt), and they have their own kits Shinekit and Buttercupkit.

Patch and Frost are also siblings, and all 4 cats are from separate litters. Each set of siblings have a dead third sibling who died in infancy, but I'm not counting them for now.

ThunderClan has de facto noble families, called Dens, though combined they're only a minority thanks to extra bad inbreeding (which also makes them extra-prone to stillbirths, kitting deaths, and single-kit litters). All of the cats here are part of the two oldest Dens, and to preserve the different Dens, only toms can pass on their Denname.

#wc rewrite #lion and golden have brown eyes #i think it complements their fur color #lionheart is also descended from and named after lionstar #hooray for thunderclan for reinventing patrilineal lineages #au #rewrite #fireheart... doesn't approve of the dens very much

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mostlycompetentwriter · 15 days

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Thunderous

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Bang Chan

Word Count: 11K

Genre: Werewolf AU! Royalty AU!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fantasies, indeed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The Wolf King stands taller than the gods!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It wasn’t.

Not at all.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Won’t they notice-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I- I can’t...”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Unlikely, but you forced a nod nonetheless.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dear Y/N,

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

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

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

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

Lovingly,

Grace

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

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

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

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

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

“What is that?”

“It is from my sister,” you explained.

“I see.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You made this?”

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

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

“Shall we eat?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How so?”

“Like you’ve been tamed.”

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

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

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

“You’ve never seen things as I do.”

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

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

“Grace-”

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

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

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

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

“It is something that was forced on me!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until she was gone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N.”

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

“Sorry,” you whispered. “Bad dreams.”

“I see.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To live as lovers rather than strangers.

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

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

As if something was missing…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Three Months Later

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I - Ivy...”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Instead, you were irrevocably alive.

#stray kids smut #stray kids fanfic #stray kids x you #bang chan #bang chan smut #chan smut #chan x reader #bang chan x reader #chan x female reader #chan oneshot #bang chan oneshot #chan imagines

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edenesth · 1 month

Text

The Way to His Heart [20]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 5k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 19 | Fic Masterlist | Spinoff Masterlist

San bowed his head as he absorbed the Queen's narration of the fourth prince's attempt to steal the general's wife during his absence at war, fearing the wrath of His Majesty and reeling from his own shock. Had he been aware of Prince Yeosang's plans beforehand, the royal secretary might have prevented you from attending the supposed birthday banquet in the first place.

The entire palace staff in the grand hall was startled as the King slammed his hand against the armrest of his throne, "The fourth prince did what?! This is outrageous! I've warned you countless times about spoiling him too much, my Queen."

Rubbing his temples, His Majesty shook his head and let out a heavy sigh, "We'll deal with him later. For now, confine him to his private chambers. He's only allowed in the royal library for his studies. The last thing we need is for him to unexpectedly show up at General Park's wedding and cause chaos."

Lowering her head, Her Majesty conceded, "Yes, Your Majesty. It's my responsibility. I know I should have been firmer with him."

"We're fortunate Lady Park handled the situation gracefully. I can see why Seonghwa is so enamoured with her," The King remarked with a slight smile before addressing San, "Secretary Choi, ensure that all funding for Prince Yeosang is withheld until further notice. Given his rebellious nature, he would likely find a way to disobey orders. Without financial resources, let's see what he can attempt."

As the Queen's lips parted to plead for leniency, His Majesty silenced her with a stern glare, leaving no room for argument. The weight of guilt settled heavily in her chest, a stark reminder of her own role in enabling the prince's behaviour. She couldn't deny that she simply wanted her fourth son to find happiness, but she knew deep down that her indulgence had contributed to his disobedient nature.

With a heavy heart, she reminded herself that this was not even the prince's harshest punishment yet. She could only imagine what further consequences awaited him at the hands of his father.

The royal secretary bowed in acknowledgement, "Yes, Your Majesty. Is there anything else you would like to add?"

The King straightened up, his demeanour shifting as he moved on from the matter concerning his son, "It would be great if you could visit the general's estate and inquire about his well-being on my behalf. Once he's feeling all better, arrange a meeting promptly so we can proceed with his wedding ceremony without delay."

With a final bow, San prepared to take his leave, but before he could depart, the ageing monarch extended a hand to stop him, "Wait, Secretary Choi! There is one last matter," His Majesty interjected, "Please extend my sincere apologies to General Park for my son's behaviour and express gratitude for his dedicated service to the nation. See to it that we cover all his medical expenses."

"Of course, my King."

The royal secretary stood before the entrance of his friend's estate the next day, feeling a slight hesitation before announcing himself. While His and Her Majesty bore some responsibility for the fourth prince's actions, San couldn't shake the feeling of personal responsibility. After all, he had been the one to prepare you for the supposed royal event, unknowingly sending you into the lion's den. He couldn't help but feel like a bad friend to Seonghwa, questioning whether he had done enough to protect the general's wife in his absence.

"I'm sorry to intrude on your moment of reflection, but how much longer do you plan to linger by the entrance, sir?" The private investigator's voice snapped San out of his trance, prompting him to blink rapidly as he recognised the familiar figure leaning against the main gate, eyeing him with curiosity.

Clearing his throat, San composed himself, "O-oh, hello! I, uh... I was just about to enter. It's nice to properly meet you, Investigator Jung. My name is—"

"Royal Secretary Choi San, I know. We're all aware, don't worry! It's an honour to be recognised by you, sir. Come on, you must be here to see General Park. Let me show you to him; Jongho's occupied at the moment," Wooyoung led the way, the secretary noting his talkative nature, "You won't believe what he's up to right now; he's such a peculiar kid. Takes dedication to a whole new level, I'll tell you that..."

At a certain point, San tuned out the rambling, focusing instead on mentally preparing himself to face you and your husband again. Would Seonghwa be displeased with him for not coming to his wife's rescue when she needed it the most? He wouldn't be surprised at all if the general were to be truly upset with him.

Before he could further overthink it, they arrived at the living hall where the couple was seated and engaged in conversation with the famous dressmaker Kim and skilled Physician Jung. Your husband looked up as if sensing his presence, beaming, "Ah, you're here, San! Come join us. We knew you'd be showing up sometime this week. I assume His Majesty has received my letter, yes?"

The secretary was taken aback, to say the least. First of all, he didn't think he deserved the warm welcome, and secondly, he had believed Seonghwa's injury to be severe, so seeing him looking almost back to his usual self shocked him. Though the older man appeared a bit paler than usual, San was primarily relieved to see his friend alive and well. Memories of the panic he had felt upon first receiving news of the general's poisoning flooded back to him.

Oh, thank god he's okay.

Greeting everyone in the hall with a polite bow, he cleared his throat, "You have no idea how relieved I am to see you alright, General Park. But before I deliver His Majesty's message, I feel compelled to offer my apologies to you and Lady Park."

Confusion creased your brow as you asked, "Whatever for, San?"

With a sigh, he admitted, "You're both too kind for your own good. I should have been more vigilant and prevented Lady Park from attending Prince Yeosang's birthday banquet in the first place. If only I had intervened, she wouldn't have gone through—"

You interjected with a gentle chuckle, "Please, don't blame yourself. You couldn't have known. If you had, I'm certain you would have acted to prevent it."

Seonghwa nodded in agreement, adding, "San, you're far too hard on yourself. You have nothing to be sorry for; you've been nothing but a great help to my wife. Now, please, take a seat and join us."

Amidst the comforting smiles around him, the secretary finally eased into his seat. Eunsook promptly served him tea and refreshments, signalling the start of their discussions. San's revelation caught everyone off guard since they had yet to receive word from Mingi: the war had ended, and Ruhon had surrendered. As they exchanged incredulous glances, a wave of relief washed over them, followed by cheers of joy. The general and his wife shared a meaningful gaze, hands clasped together as you exchanged soft smiles. San understood the significance of that moment—the two could finally proceed with the long-awaited wedding ceremony.

The worst is finally over.

Unable to contain his curiosity, San finally inquired about how the general had sustained his injury. Your husband recounted the harrowing experience, his friends visibly wincing as they imagined the scenario. Your heart ached as you listened. Sensing the tension, Yunho jumped in, reassuring everyone that the injury wasn't severe and that with proper rest, Seonghwa would be back to full health in a matter of weeks.

"That's a relief. Once you're feeling better, we'll arrange a meeting with Their Majesties to plan your wedding. That's the main reason His Majesty sent me here today, aside from checking on you," The hall buzzed with excitement, but the general sensed that the secretary had more to say, "Is there something else, San?"

Taking a deep breath, San continued, "The King also wants to extend his sincerest apologies for the fourth prince's actions. As part of his punishment, Prince Yeosang has been confined to his private chambers, and his funds have been frozen. His Majesty is concerned about him causing any disruptions at your wedding."

"Oh, good riddance!" While Hongjoong and Wooyoung clapped with Yunho silently judging them from his corner, you appeared unsettled by the news. Feeling your unease, your husband tightened his grip on your hand and asked, "What's wrong, my love?"

The news of the prince's fate left you with mixed emotions. You felt a twinge of guilt at the thought of him being barred from your wedding. Despite his actions, you couldn't deny that he was still a friend to you and a part of you felt sorry for the struggles he faced all his life due to his birthmark. Understanding the complexities of his situation, you empathised with his confusion and desperation that stemmed from his severe lack of experience with love.

With a small gulp, you turned to your husband, voicing, "Hwa, I... I think I'd still want His Highness at our wedding, if he wished to attend," Surprised looks crossed the faces of everyone in the hall. As you explained your reasoning, they began to understand your perspective. After a moment of contemplation, Seonghwa lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss onto the back of your palm with a reassuring smile, "Fair enough. If that's truly what you want, we'll discuss it with the King."

In keeping with his promise, you found yourself seated beside your husband as you faced His and Her Majesty for the first time a few weeks later, now that he was fully recovered. Sensing your nervousness about the meeting, the royal couple greeted you warmly, swiftly putting you at ease. After exchanging pleasantries, the general wasted no time in making his request.

"My King, we've heard about the punishment for the fourth prince," He began, "But my wife and I would like to request that you at least allow His Highness to attend our wedding if he wishes."

Confusion flickered across His Majesty's face, "You do? But why?" He inquired. The Seonghwa he once knew would have been furious and unforgiving. It seemed Lady Park had a positive influence on him.

Feeling it was only right for you to respond since it was your personal request, you gathered your thoughts before speaking.

"Your Majesty, I understand that Prince Yeosang's actions may seem outrageous from an outsider's perspective. However, I believe His Highness has endured a painful life, facing discrimination due to his birthmark. It's clear he mistook kindness for love, given his limited experiences. Despite his mistakes, he remains a dear friend to me. It would be meaningful to have him at our celebration, if he chooses to attend. I hope you can understand, Your Majesties. I apologise if I've spoken too much and am overstepping boundaries."

As your words sank in, a wave of introspection washed over the King. For the first time, he found himself reflecting on his relationship with Yeosang. Had he been too harsh on his son? Had he failed to understand the pain his son bore due to his birthmark? The King couldn't shake the feeling of guilt as he realised that he may have viewed his son more as a burden than a beloved child. Perhaps there were times when he had even considered the prince's refusal to marry as a personal affront.

The sudden realisation left the King feeling conflicted and remorseful. He wondered if he had been a horrible father, too absorbed in his duties as a monarch to truly understand his son's struggles. It was a sobering moment for him, realising that he may have overlooked his son's pain and loneliness. Was this why the Queen had been so persistent in advocating leniency towards Yeosang? Was she trying to make up for his shortcomings as a father? These questions weighed heavily on his mind as he grappled with his newfound awareness of his own failings.

His and Her Majesty exchanged a meaningful glance. Suddenly, they understood why the fourth prince would mistake his gratitude towards you for love. After all, you had shown him a kindness and compassion he had rarely experienced, even from his own family.

Beginning to feel anxious at the royal couple's silence, you awaited their response with bated breath, with Seonghwa ready to support you if needed. To your relief, they smiled warmly at you.

"Please don't apologise for that, Lady Park," They reassured you, "You're right; perhaps we've been too harsh on him all this while. If having him at your wedding is what you wish, we shall allow it."

"Thank you, Your Majesties."

The Queen sighed softly before adding, "But whether or not he wishes to attend is ultimately his decision. Let's hope he chooses to join us for your sake."

You nodded in understanding, "Of course, I completely understand."

As the preparations for your wedding ceremony unfolded, time seemed to pass in a blur. Traditionally, weddings entail two parts: the first at the bride's home, where the couple honours her ancestors and family, and the second at the groom's home for the same purpose. However, due to your circumstances, with no family home for you and Seonghwa having little connection to his parents or ancestors, your wedding would be simplified, taking place solely within the palace grounds, where the royal family would also be able to attend, given that most of them are not allowed to leave the place.

In no time, you found yourself comfortably seated in one of the palace chambers, which had been graciously lent to you for the day. Hongjoong immediately began working on perfecting your look, with Eunsook and a team of palace maids assisting him.

You couldn't help but marvel at the exquisite hanbok now adorning your figure. Unlike the traditional red hanbok worn by most brides, this one was a stunning combination of white and gold. It was a testament to the dressmaker's dedication to his friend's request to make you the most beautiful woman in all of Joseon.

Instead of the usual red flower, Hongjoong meticulously painted a gold flower on your forehead to complement your exquisite hanbok. You admired how perfectly it matched your outfit and the gold accessories adorning your hair. While part of you wondered if it was appropriate to outshine the royals, as the dressmaker had emphasised countless times, another part of you chose to revel in the admiration you would receive. You couldn't believe how far you'd come from being the scared girl who once endured disdainful glances and disrespect before marrying Seonghwa.

Reflecting on your journey, you felt grateful for the twists and turns that had brought you to this moment. Perhaps Jinjoo was right; you were quite thankful to your family for orchestrating your union with the general. Without them, you wouldn't be here, basking in the happiness you had finally found.

I guess we're even now, father.

Noticing your silence and distant gaze in the mirror's reflection, the dressmaker lightly nudged you on the shoulder, "Well? How do you like this look, my lady? Please don't tell me you're having second thoughts about standing out now. I've spent the past month working tirelessly on this hanbok—"

You giggled and offered a soft smile to your friend, "Don't worry, Hongjoong. It's perfection. For once, I think it's okay for me to outshine even the princesses. After all, it's my wedding ceremony, and I'll only be getting married once."

His grin widened proudly as he saw you slowly shedding your old self, no longer the timid girl he first met, "Damn right, it's perfection. I create only that and nothing less," He joked before turning serious, "Listen, I just want you to know how proud I am of you. Seonghwa's a dear friend to me, and I honestly would've thrown a bigger tantrum than he did if he had been arranged to marry some spoiled brat. You don't know how happy I am that you've found each other. But if that idiot does anything to upset you again, you better tell me."

You chuckled through your tears, your throat tightening at his heartfelt words, "You bet I will. Thank you, Hongjoong."

He panicked when he noticed your wet eyes, "Hey, hey, hey. Don't you dare start crying, woman. If you cry, I'll cry too. And trust me, that's not a good look for either of us. Plus, you can't ruin your makeup!"

His jest seemed to do the trick, eliciting another round of laughter from you. Fussing over you one last time, he noticed the palace staff at the entrance signalling it was time for you to be on standby. Gently grasping your shoulders, he beamed at you like a proud father, "Are you ready, Lady Park?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

With the nervous beat of your heart echoing in your ears, you were guided to the main hall, where the rituals would soon unfold, with Eunsook at your side. Hongjoong had departed after ensuring you looked flawless, joining the other wedding guests. As you reached the waiting area, where final checks would be made before your grand entrance and your first meeting with your husband today, your steps faltered.

While the head maid busied herself tidying your hair and smoothing the creases in your hanbok, you gulped, "Eunsook, t-tell me... this isn't a dream, is it?"

The elderly woman giggled, gently taking hold of your hands, "Are you still asking me that, mistress? Do you remember the first time you asked me that question?"

You nodded, reminiscing about the first time you had allowed the maids to bathe you after Seonghwa had discovered your scars. So much has changed since then. Though you weren't the same person you once were, a small part of you still harboured a fear that this all might be too good to be true. It felt like a long dream, and you couldn't shake the worry that you would one day wake up back in the hellhole you once called home.

Giving your hand a comforting squeeze, she smiled, "Well, I'm here to reassure you once more that this is all very real. Perhaps you fear losing the happiness you've found and you're not alone in that. Master feels the same way, so do all of us at the estate. We all fear losing the happiness that you've brought into our lives. I hope you haven't forgotten what I've said to you: you are our light and our hope. You're incredibly important to all of us. You still are, and always will be."

"She's right, you know?"

A familiar deep voice interrupted, startling both you and Eunsook as an unexpected figure appeared behind you. Surprised, you turned to find Prince Yeosang standing there, arms casually intertwined behind his back, a smirk playing on his lips as he observed your reaction.

"Y-Your Highness?" You stammered, half-expecting his absence.

He continued, "You should've seen General Park earlier as they got him dressed. All he cared about was how you were doing. I guess that's what you meant by true love, huh? I wish it were just a dream for me, but it's not. So, don't you worry, Lady Park, this is all very real. I didn't give up on you for you to doubt this reality. Please make my choice worth it and be happy, okay?"

Relief flooded through you, reassured by his acceptance of your new chapter, "I promise I will make it worth it. Thank you, my prince, for choosing to be here today and for your kind words." You replied, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders.

He grinned in response, "Of course, wouldn't miss my first and only friend's wedding for the world," With a playful wink, he gestured towards the palace staff entering to usher you out, "Now hurry and get out there, don't make him wait any longer."

At last, all is right in the world.

Returning his smile with gratitude, you took a deep breath before stepping forward. As you walked out, you felt a newfound readiness wash over you. You were prepared now; ready to formally be wedded to Park Seonghwa, not out of obligation, but out of pure love for him. You were ready to be the wife he needed, the shoulder he could lean on when the weight of his responsibilities grew heavy. You were ready to be his home, his refuge, ready to be everything to him, just as he was everything to you.

As Seonghwa stepped out from his side of the waiting area, his breath caught in his throat at the sight of you approaching from the opposite end. Each time he laid eyes on you, he thought you couldn't possibly become more beautiful, yet you continued to prove him wrong. Hongjoong had outdone himself once again; you looked more majestic than any royalty he had ever seen.

You stood out among the crowd, exuding grace and elegance in your one-of-a-kind hanbok. As you glided toward him, he felt overwhelmed by your beauty. But it wasn't just the general who was stunned; every guest at the ceremony had their jaws drop in awe at your ethereal appearance. Those seeing you for the first time now realised the whispers and rumours about your beauty were true. Truly, you looked like an angel descended from the heavens.

As the rituals unfolded, requiring you and Seonghwa to stand across from each other and perform a series of bows as instructed by the wedding officiator, each gesture symbolising a different aspect of your commitment to each other, you both remained focused on each other. Despite the lengthy and tedious proceedings, all you could see was one another as you patiently waited for it all to be over.

The guests cooed in anticipation as it was time for you and your husband to exchange a cup of wine, the act symbolising longevity and fertility. You blushed lightly as you heard Wooyoung among the crowd squealing, only to be smacked silent by Jongho and Yunho who stood by his side.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the seemingly endless rituals were concluded. You and the general bowed together a few more times: once to His and Her Majesty, once to the gods, and once to the guests. With that, the ceremony was complete, and you could finally bask in the joy of being officially united as husband and wife.

After the two of you expressed gratitude to the King and Queen for their assistance in making the wedding possible, the feast began. As neither you nor Seonghwa had any family present, you were naturally surrounded by your closest companions, the guys. Your husband took the opportunity to introduce you to the only friend of his whom you had yet to meet.

Grateful for his presence, you smiled warmly at the strategist, "Thank you for always looking out for my husband, Officer Song."

Mingi grinned bashfully, his cheeks tinged with a slight blush. He still seemed taken aback by your beauty, "Not at all, my lady. It's General Park who has been looking out for me all this while."

Seonghwa smirked knowingly, giving the taller man a playful nudge, "Thanks again for coming, man. A little birdie told me you've reunited with a special someone. Can we expect a wedding invite soon?"

The guys around the table teased with mischievous oohs as Mingi rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, "I don't know, hyung-nim. I'm working on it. But let's not talk about me, it's your big day!"

Hongjoong, however, wasn't having it, "Oh, come on, don't you dare change the subject! We need details about this mysterious lady!" He insisted, eager for gossip. The other guys excitedly chimed in, urging the officer to spill the beans about the royal physician who had captured his attention for years.

Amidst their playful interrogation of Mingi, you glanced around the room, curious to see if the fourth prince was still present. Catching sight of him, you noticed he was discreetly making his way toward the exit. Sensing your gaze, he turned, meeting your eyes. He offered you a genuine smile and a final nod before vanishing from view.

May happiness find you, Your Highness.

The remainder of the ceremony proceeded seamlessly, thanks to the meticulous arrangements made by the palace staff. As night fell, you returned to Seonghwa's private chambers, where the two of you would share a meal and some drinks before... going to bed. Your heart pounded with nervousness, fully aware of the significance of the evening; you would both be expected to consummate your marriage tonight.

"My love, are you feeling alright?" You blinked rapidly, coming back to reality as your husband waved his hand in front of your face to grab your attention. You nodded quickly and resumed eating, trying to appear casual, "Y-yes, I'm fine, Hwa. Don't worry about me."

But the general was more perceptive than you realised. He could sense your unease, especially as the meal was drawing to a close. With a soft smile, he set down his wine glass and reached to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, "Why do you bother lying to me, you silly girl? Did you think I would be disappointed in you?"

He knew he had guessed correctly when your chewing momentarily paused. Shifting his hand to cup your cheek, he gently guided you to meet his warm gaze, "What do you take me for, hm? We don't have to do anything tonight if you're not ready. I can wait, I'll wait for as long as you need," With a tender kiss on your forehead, he rose from his seat, "I'll get the maids to prepare the House of Lotus for you."

Feeling deeply touched by his understanding, you realised how foolish you had been to once fear the possibility of him hurting you. Truthfully, it wasn't that you didn't want to deepen your intimacy with him; rather, you were scared. He would be the first man to see all of you, every scar on your body, and you feared what he might think, feared letting him down. But his love for you reminded you of his kindness and brought you a newfound confidence.

Before he could leave, you panicked and reached for his wrist, stopping him in his tracks, "No, Hwa, please don't. I want to... I-I want to stay with you tonight."

Kneeling before you, he gently took your hands in his, "Are you sure, my love? You don't have to force yourself—"

You cut him off by pressing your lips firmly against his. He responded almost immediately, and you smiled at the small whine he let out as he chased after your lips when you pulled away. Whispering, you said, "I've never been more sure of anything in my life. I want to stay with you, Park Seonghwa. You're not getting rid of me tonight, or ever."

Unable to restrain himself any longer, he immediately captured your lips in a deep kiss, one passionate enough to leave you dizzy. With his guidance, you rose from your seat, your lips still connected, and he lifted you into his arms, carrying you bridal style towards his bed. Both your hearts raced as you broke the kiss to catch your breath, panting as he gently set you down.

Your breath caught as you leaned against the pillows behind you, trapped between his arms as before, reminiscent of the interrupted moment with Hongjoong. However, this time, it wasn't you who halted the moment. The general's gaze turned serious as he locked eyes with you, his voice low, "Last chance. We can still stop if you want to change your mind. Because if we go any further from here, I'm afraid I won't be able to hold myself back."

Cupping his face, you leaned in to kiss him softly, murmuring, "I love you, Hwa." If that wasn't enough to convey your feelings, you guided his hands to the ribbon securing the outer layer of your hanbok, silently granting him permission to undress you.

The first time he had aggressively torn your clothing was a mistake he regretted deeply. Now, he approached it with care, delicately untying the ribbon and holding his breath as he removed the garment, exposing your shoulders once more. The faint traces of your old scars were visible, but they didn't faze him. Tilting your chin up, he rested his forehead against yours and whispered, "You're so beautiful, my wife. I love you too."

Wrapping your arms around his neck, your eyes fluttered close as he kissed you again, banishing all previous worries from your mind. When he pulled away, his lips trailed down your neck until they reached your scars. Gently pushing some hair away from his face, you stroked his head affectionately, watching as he showered each mark with kisses. As his hand hovered over the ribbon securing the inner layer of your hanbok, he looked up at you one last time, knowing there would be no turning back from this moment onward.

"I'll be gentle, my love, I promise."

"I know, Hwa, I trust you."

That night, you and Seonghwa became lost in each other, the boundaries between you fading away as you become one for the first time. In each other's arms, you discovered a love deeper than you ever thought possible. You found yourself no longer able to picture your life without him at this point.

Reflecting on your journey together, you marvelled at how much he had changed since you first met. Back then, you could never have imagined that he would come to love you so deeply, nor could you have anticipated the depth of your own feelings for him. Now, as you lay intertwined with him in the quiet of the night, you knew that you had arrived at your destination. It had been a long journey, filled with obstacles and challenges, but in the end, you found it.

You had finally found the way to his heart.

Y'all, I hope this one didn't disappoint! The pressure of knowing this was the final part was so SO REAL. Maybe it's my insecurities kicking in, but I genuinely hope this meets expectations!😭

Also, I know the story is completed but I have good news! I've decided to do some fluff-filled bonus chapters because I'm well aware this is barely enough to make up for all the angst I've put y'all through HAHA if you're not on the tag list and would like to be tagged for any future bonus content, just leave a comment to let me know!

Whoo, it's been quite the roller coaster ride now, hasn't it? If you've made it this far, I sincerely hope you enjoyed the story! From the bottom of my heart, thank you all so much for reading and as always, please let me know your thoughts! <3

Tag list (1/3): @huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @ssrnghwa @yunnieo @sunnyhokyu @lynnsqueendom @frobin4ever @chwesuh-imnida @thunderous-wolf @itstheghostofmypast @professormingisglasses @deltamoon666 @avantalem @famishalll @yungilia @soobiverse @joongified @scuzmunkie @http-gyu @mentoslol @atinyreads @angel-hyuckie @anxiousskylar @onedumbho3 @narashii @ddaeing @sansaurora9904 @sohnfile @scarfac3 @dreamingofyeo @puppyminnnie @tinyteezer @vantediary @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks @aliona124754 @bts-army380 @lilactangerine @atinyniki @pay13 @1117promises @xoxkii @st4rhwa @hikarii02 @nescaffei @xdolls-crownx @ashrocker123 @skzline @minkiflwr @starssongs98 @baeksofty @skz1-4-3 @kawaiikels @madnpan @en-happiness @cheolliehugs @persnyako @startinystay @chngbnwf @fatspecimen @christinerose380 @stfu-rina @kyukyustar @taytayy178 @appleschre @brielle-in-the-galaxy @laurenwidjaja @yangwonielvrs @n1k1mura @idkwgoh @loveateez @linosllvr

#edenesth #the way to this heart #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #park seonghwa #ateez seonghwa #arranged marriage au #joseon era #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x you #ateez fic #historical au

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tyunphoria · 6 months

Text

🌪️not in my movie ! — b.chan

- - - - -

⚠️NSFW CONTENT!⚠️

- - - - -

ghostface!bang chan x reader

SYNPNOSIS: just a fun game of cat and mouse till you fall in the lion’s den.

INCLUDES: AFAB reader, college!au, pet names, praise, ANGST and SMUTTT. Finding out he’s ghostface gee what a shocker, not proof read, rushed:p chan’s hella manipulative if you squint.

WARNINGS: threatening, mentions of death and murders, blood, slight degradation, fear play, slight dacryphilia, DOM!chan, p in v, oral (giving), fingering, hair pulling, uh tw just to make sure: non con that turns consensual, semi public not rlly?, UNPROTECTED SEX, mentions of vomiting.

[click here to read ghostface!hanjisung x reader.]

w.c: 4.5k

The leaves were ablaze with autumn hue as y/n walked across the quad of her college campus. She breathed in the crisp autumn air, savouring the hint of bonfire smoke that indicated the fair was being set up. Y/n loved this time of the year. Students milled about between classes, backpacks slung over shoulders, coffee cups warming hands. Some douchebags would even take the liberty to scare their peers and professors while clad in a black robe and a ghostface mask.

Speaking of, your senior Chan just fell victim to one of the pranks and it was hilarious how you got to witness it first hand.

“I hate Halloween…” Chan grumbled as he fell into step beside you.

Your body buzzed with laughter as you handed him the book that slipped from his grasp. “Are you going to that fair tonight?” You ask. Chan makes an expression you couldn’t read, akin to contemplation tinged with mild distaste at the idea. You knew him well enough to read the thoughts flitting across his face — he was tempted by the promise of candy apples and haunted houses but also felt the pull of responsibility to study for his upcoming exam.

“Oh come on, Christopher.” You roll your eyes, “a few hours of fun won’t kill you.”

“Hard pass.” He said. He wasn’t one to back down to these types of things but he claimed that there was something about Halloween which gave him the ‘ick’. “And it’s not just that… Changbin lost a bet so now he’s gonna have to wear a playboy bunny costume to the fair. Think I wanna see that?” You laugh and shake your head, bidding him goodbye as you turn to enter your apartment until Chan stopped you once more by grabbing ahold of your arm.

“Y/n,” he says, his voice stern. “I’m being serious this time. Just… how about you just don’t go? It’s dangerous, especially how late it is at night. Who knows… maybe ghostface himself would show up uninvited.”

His warning sent goosebumps to rise on your skin, making the hair on your nape stand. You mask it with a light scoff. “Really, Chris? When are you gonna drop this ghostface shit. Dude’s been M.I.A for years, I think I’ll be fine.”

You try to pull away but his grip around your wrist tightens before you find yourself being pulled against his chest, hands holding your waist in place as he buries his face against your neck. “Be careful out there, yeah?”

Your hard gaze softens. “I will.”

- - - - -

“Y/n!” Felix beams as he captures you in a tight embrace.

“Jesus Christ, lix.” You gently pull away from the hug to examine his costume. “Elsa?”

“It’s cute, no?” He pouts. “Aya’s over there by the dart booth.” You nod at him gratefully, giving him one last hug before making your way to Aya.

“Hey bitch!” You grin. Aya bounces over to you, planting a kiss on your cheek, staining your skin with the bright red lipstick she wore.

“You wore the costume I bought you, let me see,” she twirls you around. “Hot, hot, okay, but babes that jacket has gotta go.”

“It’s cold!” You protest. “And my tits are practically out.”

Aya sighed in exasperation. “Halloween is the one year where a girl can dress like a total slut and no other girls can say anything about it.” She quotes.

The fair was packed with hordes of costumed attendees, mostly college students from nearby universities. Your eyes widened as she took in the revealing outfits on display - girls in lingerie masquerading as "sexy cat" costumes, shirtless guys with lampshades on their heads.

"Is that chick only wearing a bra and a fucking g-string?" You murmured to Aya, who stood beside you nibbling on candy corn from a paper bag.

Aya followed her gaze to a scantily clad brunette in the distance. "Looks like it," she snorted.

"Thank god there are no kids around here tonight."

You said, finding the lack of children odd. Usually by 8pm, the fair would be swarming with kids getting high off of cotton candy and running around wildly.

"Yeah, the government placed a curfew," Aya explained after popping a few gummy worms into her mouth. "Didn't you hear?"

"A curfew? No, why?" You felt unease curl in your stomach. The last curfew had been years ago, when a killer in a mask murdered a group of teens.

Aya lowered her voice. "It's all over the news. Two days ago someone broke into this girl's house downtown. And then a bunch of people were found dead behind the HYBE office building."

Your brows furrowed. There's no way it could be Ghostface again, right? That killer had been caught years ago.

Chris’s words from this morning suddenly plagued your mind and it bothered you.

A theory was circulating online that there was more than one Ghostface. That a group of obsessed fans had taken up the killer mantle. Those amateur reddit detectives were digging far deeper than the useless ass police.

What if Chan had been right? Unease bloomed in your chest as you glanced around the fair.

Aya takes notes of her expression, attempting to lighten the mood by shoving some cotton candy in your mouth.

“Stop worrying. Let’s go ride the roller coaster and eat candy till we fucking barf!”

- - - - -

“Oh, fuck me, I’m gonna—“ Aya bends over the railing and hurled.

Your cheeks tint in embarrassment, an awkward smile on your lips as you pat her back, trying to ignore the disgusted looks both of you were receiving.

“Bitch you gotta go on without me,” she slumps against a nearby bench, chugging down a can of beer to wash off the vile taste.

“What!” You frown, “but the haunted house, you promised!” You tugged on her arm but she doesn’t budge. “Tsk, fine, I’ll go without you then.”

They built a new attraction that the place has been working on for years but it just now opened up today. It was a big haunted mansion. You wondered why it took so long for them to open it up, but you found out not too long ago that they didn’t hire any scare actors for this attraction, they were all animatronics.

You see your friend by the entrance, collecting tickets and admitting people in.

"Hyunjin!" you exclaimed, a wide smile lighting up your face as you spotted your friend stationed at the entrance, diligently collecting tickets and admitting people in. "I didn’t know your ass worked here."

The blond returned your smile and motioned for three more people to enter before making his way over to you. "Yeah, I actually wanted to take today off, but they were in desperate need of extra staff. I was looking forward to spending the night with my girlfriend too." he replied with a small sigh. "Surprisingly, it's even more crowded than last year. You'd think people would stay home, given the murder incident that happened at HYBE."

You crossed your arms. You really didn’t wanna think about that right now. casting a quick glance down at your heels, momentarily distracted by the discomfort throbbing in your feet. "I shouldn't have worn these," you gesture to your heels.

Something crossed Hyunjin’s face as his expression went blank. “It’s gonna bitch to run in those if that fucker catches you.”

You gape at him. Who the fuck says something like that so casually?

“Sorry,” Hyunjin chuckled. “It’s part of my script.” Oh right… yeah, of course, it being halloween and him working at a horror attraction explains it.

“Oh, it’s your turn, y/n. You going in alone?” He asks. You glance behind you past the long line of teenagers to spot your friend Aya flirting with some guy. You grunt. “Yeah. Just me.”

Hyunjin smiles, taking your ticket and opening up the doors for you. “Enjoy.” He puts it simply, closing the doors behind you.

Hyunjin glances at the rest of the people in the line, the smile falling from his face as he makes his announcement which results in a chorus of groans.

“Okay everyone! Haunted mansion’s closed for tonight.”

- - - - -

As you ventured further into the haunted mansion, the path guided you through a dimly lit corridor. The flickering candles along the walls cast eerie shadows, whispering secrets in the air.

"for something that took years to make, this is pretty boring," you muttered, your disappointment evident in your voice. The first half of the experience was extremely underwhelming. The animatronics were, at least. But as you stepped into the next room, your boredom quickly turned to awe.

Inside, the place was straight out of a Gothic horror story. The Victorian aesthetic engulfed you, transporting as if you were entering dracula’s house or some shit.

As you continued, animatronic figures lurched and screeched, attempting to startle you with their mechanical movements and eerie sounds. But let's be real, they were more comical than terrifying. Their jerky motions and predictable jump scares only elicited laughter instead of fear..

You couldn't help but chuckle, finding amusement in their exaggerated gestures and obvious gimmicks. It became a game to anticipate their predictable moves, mocking their feeble attempts at fright.

The vibe itself was pretty spooky.

The thing that genuinely terrified you was the sudden ear-piercing scream cutting through the air.

Was that from outside? You couldn’t tell. There weren’t any windows. Maybe it just came from one of the speakers.

How long has it been, seven minutes maybe? Well, for one the place was huge and you took up most of the time taking pictures of the place and messing with the bots.

Startled by the crashing sound of the picture frame hitting the floor, you couldn't help but leap in surprise. As your racing heart gradually settled, you cautiously rounded the corner, only to find yourself confronted with a seemingly endless maze of hallways. The disorienting sight added to your growing sense of unease.

Just as you began to collect your thoughts, your hand-held phone abruptly buzzed, causing you to jump once more. The unexpected vibration sent a jolt through your system, making you exclaim, "Jesus—fuck!" A nervous chuckle escaped your lips as you pressed a trembling hand against your chest, trying to calm your pounding heart.

Assuming it was Aya, you braced yourself for a string of impatient requests to hurry up and drive her home. However, to your surprise, the incoming text displayed an unknown number. Curiosity mingled with a tinge of annoyance as you read the message that flashed on your screen: "

“Let’s play a game:)”

Your heart rate quickened in response, you weren't in the mood for pranks, you grumbled and decided to power off your phone, hoping to put an end to the unsettling message.

Your phone buzzed again.

With a mix of frustration and apprehension, you reluctantly picked up your phone and saw another message from the same unknown number: "Don't fucking ignore me, l/n." The words sent a shiver down your spine.

Reluctantly, you type back, your fingers trembling on the keyboard.

"Who are you?" you ask, your anxiety building with each passing moment.

The chat bubbles appear on the screen, filled with an unsettling anticipation. The silence hangs heavy, broken only by the rapid beating of your heart.

"Let's play," the mysterious person replies.

Frustration bubbles up inside you, and you can't help but snap in response. "Look asshole, I don't have time for this," you retort, your patience wearing thin.

A pause follows, and then their next message appears, sending a chill down your spine. "I'm sure you do if your life depends on it," they jeer, their words laced with a sinister edge.

Confusion and fear intertwine within you, clouding your thoughts. Their cryptic statements leave you bewildered, struggling to grasp their true intentions.

Suddenly, a notification pops up, revealing an incoming image. With trembling hands, you open it, only to be met with a horrifying sight—Hyunjin covered in blood, and Aya who looked lifeless leaned up against a pole.

A scream escapes your lips as you drop your phone, shock coursing through your veins. Trembling, you gather the courage to pick up the device again, your mind racing with terror and desperation.

With a renewed sense of horror, you read the next message: "Don't worry, darling. They’re not dead yet. If you can be a good girl for me, I may just spare them."

Each word intensifies your panic, emphasizing the gravity of the situation.

“Don’t hurt them. I’ll do whatever you want.”

The tears streaming down your face are uncontrollable, having to hold the wall for support so your legs didn’t give up on you.

“Let’s play a game of hide and seek.” It writes. “I’m giving you two minutes to hide. If I find you by the time it strikes 12,” then they stopped typing. Seconds felt like hours as you waited. “Let’s just say they don’t get to see another day. As for you, things won’t get pretty so make sure to hide well:)”

It’s a little after 11:40, so you only have twenty minutes till the game is over. You assume that the timer for the duration you had to hide already started so you wasted no time to break into a sprint.

The game seemed simple enough. All you needed to do was hide for fifteen more minutes and you were golden! Besides, it’s a pretty big mansion. You’re confident that it’ll take them hours to find you.

- - - - -

Two more minutes.

There were only two minutes left.

You sink down against the wall, pulling your legs close to your chest. Thoughts of Chris flood your mind. You imagine how he might be doing, picturing the moment when all of this would be over and you could finally return home. The image of him standing before you, his dimpled smile breaking through, teasingly claiming that going to the fair wasn't such a great idea after all, tugs at the corners of your lips and brings a glimmer of warmth to your heart.

"I told you so!" he would tease, his voice filled with both amusement and genuine concern. But deep down, you know that Chan would be consumed with worry for your well-being and safety. You already imagine him scolding you, all while showering you with hugs and gifts to make you feel better. As his junior, his guidance and advice always carried weight, and you never missed an opportunity to listen to his words.

You find yourself sinking deeper into the memories, recalling how Chan had always been so understanding. Whenever the principal's wrath came crashing down, he was there, standing by your side, ready to defend you with unwavering loyalty. And when the storms of heartbreak or failed hook-ups battered your heart, Chris, was there to console you in ways that went beyond words. It was as if you were a treasured princess in his eyes, deserving of nothing but the utmost care and tenderness.

But right now wasn’t exactly the best time to dwell on your fat crush on him.

Like, yes, sure you guys fucked one or twice before but they meant nothing. It was just a way to relieve frustrations with zero strings attached.

His warmth, his voice… his hands that touch you in all the right places.

You’re definitely gonna miss it if you die in this hell hole.

“What's on your pretty little mind that’s got you thinking so deeply, princess?”

You gasp and quickly shoot up to a sprint until your front is pushed up against a wall, feeling someone’s weight pressed against you along with a cold blade poking against your throat.

“I found youuuu,” he taunts.

The man wearing a ghostface mask chuckled as he pressed the knife more into your neck, enough to make a small cut. You wince and groan in pain. The situation is almost laughable, finding it somewhat cliché with the way you’re about to die.

“Fucking… let me go,”

“But princess, I won didn’t I? We had a deal.”

“Fine! You win! Just kill me already then, why drag longer?”

You squirm around to possibly irk him more to speed up the process but as you do, the further your backside gets pushed into his hard on making him groan into your left ear. “But what’s the fun in killing you right away. I’m here to claim my prize.”

Your eyes widen, realizing what his intentions were now.

An idea popped in your head. If you just played along for a few more, you can distract him and make a beeline for the exit.

A laugh slips past your lips. “What’s this? I didn’t expect mister ghostface to be such a perv.” You rub your ass against the tent of his sweats eliciting a strained grunt from the man behind you.

He drops the knife, closing your throat with his fist, bringing your head back. “Don’t fucking tempt me.”

You squeeze your eyes shut at the sensation of his gloved hand cupping your sensitive pussy. Slick begins to stain your lacy red panties as he hummed and dragged his middle finger along your slit. You gasp out in surprise, “don’t do that…”

“Oh? But you were rubbing against me not too long ago like a little slut, what happened to that confidence?” He reaches down further and gently parts the lips of your vulva before gently circling your entrance.

“Tell me to stop and I will.” Your eyes flutter open at his words. You both have already gone this far, why stop now? If you told him to stop, would it just prompt him to kill you? You wanted to atleast see Chris before you died… Well, he asked for permission at least so that was good… fuck it, what about this situation was considered good in the first place? Played with your feelings using fear and dread and now he has you pressed up against the wall with his hand down your underwear.

It was a bit of a turn on.

“Why don’t you kiss my ass and fuck me already.”

You couldn’t see his face but you knew from the tone of his voice that he was grinning, “Good choice.” You were wet and waiting, so he slips a finger inside, thumb circling your clit. You moan, back arching. He adds another finger and pumps his fingers, adjusting the pace while you fall apart in his arms. Your sighs and moans, the way your body responds to him. He hooks his fingers as he circles your clit, rewarded with a moan that sounds suspiciously like calling on the gods.

You tighten around his fingers as you cum, your cheeks flushed in mild embarrassment, with your lipstick smudged from his fingers stuffing your throat full. He strokes you through your orgasm, a beautiful sight to see you undone like this, having to fight the urge to rio off his mask and kiss you.

“Did that feel good, princess?”

“Don’t… call me that.”

“What’s wrong? Do you like being called derogatory names instead?”

Your cheeks flushed. “No! I just… only he can call me princess…”

Ghostface went quiet as he stilled momentarily. He takes his fingers out. “Is that so..” his laughter fills your ears and you can’t help but shy away by hiding your face. Your body was jerked around, forcing you to face him as he squished your cheeks together roughly.

“Open your eyes.”

You shake your head. He moved his hand from your cheeks to your hair making you moan out in surprise.

“Your mask scares me!” You cried out. Staring back at the two blank eyes of the costume while getting fucked isn’t exactly ideal.

“Then I’ll take it off.”

He’s bluffing. Cause there’s no way in hell — this dude’s gotta be bluffing. “You’d do that?”

“For you I would.”

‘Yeah. If you could just take off your mask so I could report you to the police when I’m outta here that’d be great.’

But you’d wish you told him to keep his mask on instead. You would’ve rather preferred that.

“Chris?”

He cradled your face in his hand. “Why do you look so sad, princess? Not what you were expecting?” All you could do was cry. You were confused. You felt betrayed. You wanted nothing more than to shove him away but also melt against the warmth of his touch, the gentle caress of his hands that once brought you comfort. “Shh… shh, don’t cry.” Chan leans in and kisses away your tears.

“Why?” You hiccuped.

“I didn’t want you finding out. I never meant for this to happen.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Hell, y/n, I didn’t want you getting roped into this mess but you drive me fucking insane.

I won’t kill you, I just wanted to be honest with you. I’m sorry if you had to find out this way—“

You swallow his next words with a kiss. You didn’t want to listen to his words anymore. You didn’t care if it’s an excuse, you didn’t care if it was a lie, you didn’t care about anything as long as it was him.

“Save it. Whatever lame ass excuse you’re about to come up with, I forgive you.” This catches him off guard. He opens his mouth to say something but you cut him off again, “I’m tired and my pussy’s throbbing so let’s hurry and wrap this up.”

He grinned, urging to your knees. He gave your cheek a rough couple pats as he brought his index and middle finger to your lips, “open.” You part your lips and with little to no warning, he shoves his fingers down your throat. With his other hand, he pulled his sweats and briefs halfway down his toned thighs. He rubbed your spit around the length of his dick, giving it a few strokes before tracing the tip against your lips.

You poke your tongue out just to get a little taste of him making Chris visibly shudder. He groans before pushing the tip past your lips. You wrapped your lips around his cock and his hand immediately found its way on the back of your head. “Yeah… fuck, just like that…” you wrapped both of your hands around his length and worked quick pumps around the head while the other worked its way along the base.

He felt his knees buckle a little when you started sucking his balls. “You look so pretty like this,” he urged himself back into your mouth. “And who do you belong to?”

“You.” You moan. “I’m all yours, Channie.”

That was all the confirmation he needed before he began to brutally fuck your little throat. Your dress had ridden up gave it the liberty to press the tip of his shoe against your cunt making your hips jerk forward. As he ruthlessly fucked your throat and the laces of his converse rubbed deliciously against uour clit the stimulation was beyond amazing. After holding your head firmly against his pelvic area for what seemed like eternity, he finally let you get some air, removing yourself from his dick with a sloppy pop.

“Come here, pretty princess. Wanna cum inside of you…” he was quick to pull you to your feet and pushed you back up against the wall. Your answering smile is a smug thing, as if you’re proud of the effect you had on him. He kisses you then, groaning as he tastes himself on your tongue. Chan gripped your plush thighs and lifted you up with ease. He was gentle and slow, despite the circumstances you were thrown into. He rips your panties in half trying to get them off, drowning out your protests with a slight chuckle. “I’ll buy you new one’s.” He shoves your panties in his pocket before swiping his tip against your wet folds. “Oh,” you breathe out, eyes fluttering shut as he begins to move. The rhythm is slow at first, your fingers pulling him closer, as if you could eliminate all space between the both of you. Your hips meet his every thrust as they move together at a languid pace, as if they have all the time in the world.

He can feel the way your heart races, the rush of blood in your veins. He tries to be as gentle as possible as he sinks his teeth into your neck, drawing a delicious gasp from your lips as he thrusts into you, hoping to balance out the sensation of pain and pleasure. His face hovers over yours, breaths mingling. “Can you hear how wet you are?” He grunts, adding his thumb to the mix by rubbing your almost painfully sensitive clit. You moan loudly, back arching against the wall when you felt chan begin to suck at your tits over the thin material of your dress.

“Been wanting to fuck you for so long… seeing you walk around all night looking dolled up, I felt so jealous.”

He pounds mercilessly into your poor pussy, salty tears beginning to run down your cheeks from the overwhelming pleasure. “You're so gorgeous… wanna make you all mine — fuck,” he moans. “You’re so naughty… I told you not to go, didn’t I?”

“Channniiieee…. I’m gonna,” you whimper, whining against his lips. “I’m cumming… oh fuck, I’m cumming…”

“so cute…” he cooed. “You disobeyed me, and look at where we’re at now.”

You tangle your fingers in his hair as you orgasm followed by a shudder.

What sounded like footsteps that were approaching closer and closer catches you off guard and it seemed to have a similar effect on him as well.

Sticking to your plan from earlier, you shove him off of you while he’s distracted trying to figure out who could be approaching and make a beeline for the exit. His back hits a table, eyes widening.

“Love you Channie!” You grinned and before he could grab you, you shut the two heavy metal doors in front of him.

He grumbled, pulling his pants back on and opening the door only to be met with a ghostface mask staring right back at him.

“Hey,” Jisung says as he rips the mask off him.

“The van’s parked outside, the other’s have been waiting for twenty fucking minutes.” He says but he only received a glare from his leader. “You look pissed. What the hell happened this time?”

“Change of plans,” Chan says as he picks up his knife and mask from the floor. “You guys go on ahead without me.”

“What?” Jisung scoffed. “You can’t just do that at the last minute. Look, we’ve been planning this shit for years, you can’t just back down ‘cause you can’t control your dick. The police are already on their way, and—!” Chan throws his knife, missing Han by a hair as it pierces through the portrait behind him. Han felt his breathing stop for a quick second.

“You had your fair share of fucking with your slut, so pipe down.”

Jisung glowered, hand tightening around the handle of his gun. “Don’t fucking call her that.” He says, but he knew better than to get into an argument with his boss.

“I’ll meet you guys tomorrow.” Chan slips his mask back on.

“I’m gonna go claim back what’s mine.”

a.n: ruh roh, alpha wolf chan is mad cs he didnt get to orgasm😕😕

and yall i get it, you want more skz ghostface content, im getting there okay😭

also pls lmk if you want me to make anime fics too, all ive been posting about are skz dhisbsje i can write genshin too. P.s all ghostface aus r connected, hyunjin is next methinks

#reader insert #stray kids #kpop scenarios #kpop x reader #x reader #stray kids smut #kpop smut #bang chan smut #bang chan x reader #ghostface au

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rise-my-angel · 11 months

Text

Heart of the Great Wolf

Masterlist

Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader (Slow Burn)

Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader

Pre Series Content and Extras:

Woes of a Modern Day Love (a modern!au)

Scattered Memories of the Starks

Shadows of their Hatred

The Lost Chapters of Jon Snow

NSFW Alphabet (contains spoilers for Part 3 and 4)

Interlude of Jealous Desires

A New Life's Darkened Lust (continuation of Ashes of Various Grey)

Part 1:

Wolves of the Lone Stag

Mouth of the Lion's Den

An Intrigue Drenched in Blood

Standing Behind a Betrayal

A War of Tragic Beginning

Part 2:

King and Queen in the North

Shadow of a Fiery Stag

Reunion of New Enemies

Pleasure of Conflicted Desire

The Sanctity of Children

What Lies Beyond The Veil

Part 3:

The Cost of Our Sins

Dragged Through the Violence

Only the Cold

Fire for the King's Blood

Part 4:

Ashes of Various Grey

Plans of Pain and Horror

Afraid of a Ravens Flight

Trust in the Gentle Rasps

Visions in Eyes and Flames

A Bastard or The White Wolf

Part 5:

Home of Bloodsoaked Stone

Blazing Fire of Storming Ice

Ghostly Dreams of Old

Sailing Through the Glow

The Last Dragon

The Winter Rose

Part 6:

The Clash of Three Kings

Shrouded Truth in Sickness

Winged Shadow in the Sky

Light in the Darkest Storms

Peeking the Realms Woes

Blood, Roses and All Lies

Broken Love of the Dead

The Souls Tethered in Death

Wolves of the Past and Back

The Crows and The Sight

Part 7:

A Brewing of New Mystery

Great Wolves of White Mists

Darkness Heavy in a World

Past Becomes the Present

The Thing in the Night

Waving Tides of Turmoil

Greenish White Boodraven

Dark Blood of Blinding Light

And Wait for the Snows

Part 8:

Into the Haunted Forest

Fist of the First Men

Through the Frost Fangs

#jon snow x reader #jon snow x you #robb stark x reader #robb stark x you #game of thrones #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #jon snow #robb stark #game of thrones imagine

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semisolidmind · 7 months

Note

For the Lion’s Den AU, what was it like when Wukong and Macaque first met Peaches? Love at first sight? Didn’t really notice her until she did/said something? Did they meet her separately or together?

(i briefly mention how they met in one of the earlier lion's den posts, but i guess i should give it some explanation)

reader attends her first meeting understandably apprehensive. she was told explicitly by azure not to draw too much attention to herself, given the nature of his comrades. he would defend her if needed, of course, but she would have to be prepared for their... disapproval, if it arose. she began to imagine what truly frightening beings may be behind the gilded doors that lead to the council hall.

the three demons already seated at the large table were not at all what reader was expecting.

they were worse.

azure failed to mention that his allies were none other than the dreaded monkey king, the six-eared macaque, and the demon bull king. anyone paying even the slightest bit of attention to local gossip had at least heard of these three; the tales of the bloodshed and ruin that followed in their wake were known across the land.

reader had seen it firsthand when the occasional survivors of their conquests would make their way (bloodied, broken, and burned) into her village begging for shelter.

truly a terrifying band.

even more terrifying was the way reader made accidental eye contact with the monkey king every time she dared to glance upward. she'd look down as soon as his golden pupils shot over to her, but reader could feel them on her for a few moments afterwards. even looking away, she could sense the way his sight would drift over to her every time he would address azure; the seating arrangement (azure on one end of the table, reader right next to him, with the monkey king on the other) didn't give her anywhere to hide.

she had to admit, the simian demon was more... upbeat? than she expected? despite his appearance, he acted not as a conquering warlord meeting with his allies to discuss how best to subdue their enemies, but as a man sharing a table with his friends. he joked, he laughed, he talked about old stories.

and what surprised reader the most... was that the demons around him joined in.

were reader not horribly aware that she sat among some of the most powerful demon lords in the world, she'd have felt as though she were back in her village listening to the farmhands after a hard day's work.

it was unsettling knowing that these were the monsters who had killed many innocent people just like those farmhands, and felt no remorse.

reader couldn't wait for this meeting to be over.

---

wukong couldn't wait for this meeting to be over.

as much as he enjoyed talking with azure and the brotherhood, he was much more interested in the human woman azure had brought with him. he could tell macaque was interested, too; any mortal that could catch the interest of one so goal-driven as azure lion must be something special.

wukong really wanted to know what her deal was. but, as much as he would've liked to call on her during the meeting, he got the feeling she'd freeze in fear if he brought attention to her that way. she looked like she wanted to sink into the floor and disappear.

there were little tears at the corner of her eyes the last time she accidentally looked at him.

...it was kinda adorable.

the monkey king glanced over at his brother, finding him staring at the woman as well; seems he'd had the same idea. it also seemed like reader hadn't noticed macaque looking at her in favor of keeping tabs on wukong (which was kinda flattering; he half-jokingly decided that meant she liked him more).

wukong came up with a spilt-second plan. he hid his mouth behind thoughtfully steepled fingers (he was only pretending to listen to the battle strategies being discussed anyway) and whispered it so that only his ever-vigilant brother could hear him.

once the meeting was over, the brotherhood had dispersed outside to get some fresh air. the monkey king crossed the courtyard, intent on distracting azure. he asked the general to take stock of a recent battle so that he and a nearby scribe could make note of it. though azure was a tad confused (shouldn't they have done that right after the battle happened?), he begins to list off information such as casualties, equipment lost, rations used, etc.

conveniently taking the lion's attention away from his little companion, who seemed to be wandering off toward a grove of fruit trees a ways away from the courtyard.

wukong flicked his tail in a certain way, meaningless to anyone but his brother, who took that as his signal.

the shadowmaster sunk into his namesake as soon as eyes were no longer on him.

wukong will join up with them later, once his side of the plan is complete.

---

macaque usually didn't pay much attention to mortals, aside from when he was killing them.

but the fact that the ever-so-honorable (more like hypocritical) azure lion had a little mortal woman at his side? well...that was certainly interesting.

macaque knew that azure was much gentler when it came to human commoners, letting them escape before raiding their towns. the shadowy simian found it amusing that the lion believed he was being merciful; a crowd of defenseless humans with nowhere to go, out in the wilderness? they were basically a demon buffet. and if demons didn't get them, wild animals or the elements would.

deciding to keep that observation in his back pocket for the next time azure nagged him about killing villagers, macaque stepped out of the shadows. the human sat a short distance away, leaned back against a flowering tree. it looked like she was admiring the scenery, completely unaware of him.

what did azure call her...? reader?

hm. azure could've picked anything to give her as a protective pseudonym, and he chose that? wonder what that could possibly say about her. she doesn't really look the academic type.

although, now that he's able to see her a little closer...

perhaps the six-eared demon could understand why the lion was taken with this human, at least physically. she's pretty, she's got nice proportions...but if looks were all that mattered, there's definitely more outwardly attractive humans to choose. her appearance can't be all there is. so, macaque decides to speak to her.

he calls out, casually asking her how she's enjoying the view. she startles and begins to rush out apologies and promises that she didn't mean to come here, she didn't realize she wasn't supposed be here, she didn't mean any harm by it, she'll leave—

macaque laughs, genuinely. she definitely used to be a servant or lower class, no one of any sort of status would apologize just for being somewhere. he goes and sits himself down next to her before she can stand and run away.

he can practically feel her trembling—oh. oh, she's starting to tear up a little...but she's putting on such a brave face.

macaque's pupils dilate a little.

she's just too precious.

after assuring her she's not in trouble, he asks her about herself; where'd she come from, what was her life like before, how did she meet azure?

now that was an interesting story. she actually nursed the stupid cat back to health, despite the fact that he's a big, scary demon? she's brave, he'll give her that. her story would certainly explain why azure took a shine to her. macaque jokingly asks reader if she regularly took demons in, or if azure was just a special case—because he really wouldn't mind being taken care of by her, he says flirtatiously. reader laughs a little at that.

the demons' six ears twitch. he likes that sound, he decides.

macaque can tell reader's getting more comfortable with him. she's opening up, even joking back at him. the attractive blush on her face makes him want to tease her more. the darker-furred demon finds that he likes it when she flusters at a compliment.

he kinda...doesn't want to stop talking with her. it's so easy, like he's always known her.

of course, that's when wukong shows up.

---

wukong had managed to sit through all of azure lion's report without falling asleep, which was an accomplishment all on it's own. afterwards, he managed to get yellowtusk on a long-winded lecture on...something or other, which he always insisted his brothers sit for.

having successfully trapped azure and peng in a manners-mandated lesson (one he knew would keep them for a good while; once the old elephant got started talking, he was difficult to stop), wukong excused himself to "check on dinner preparations." he sped off on his cloud toward where the kitchens were, intent on making a u-turn where the others couldn't see.

if azure wanted to follow, he'd have to interrupt his brother; something wukong knew he'd be hesitant to do.

with that taken care of, the simian ruler quickly tracked his little mark, finding her and his brother under a flowering peach tree. deciding to eavesdrop on their conversation, he stepped gently from his cloud onto the branches above them.

after a moment listening to them (and getting a little jealous that mac had managed to get her to laugh, which was a pretty sound he wanted aimed at him), wukong swung down, shaking some flower petals free, landing gracefully in a crouch at reader's feet. he cheekily apologizes for "dropping in" so unexpectedly.

at her frightened gasp and backpedal, wukong rushes to reassure her he means no harm. he's just curious, he wants to hear her story too, honest! he keeps his tone gentle and playful, and attempts to be as non-threatening as possible (which is tough, since he knows his reputation precedes him).

when reader finally manages to speak (thanks to a little encouragement from macaque), wukong perks up. she doesn't seem as scared of his brother anymore at least, which is a very good sign. as she tells her story, he takes in her features up close.

after hearing how she cared for azure, wukong unknowingly echoes his brother's earlier sentiment; he kinda wants reader to take care of him, too.

he sees how her eyes shine with dewy unshed tears, her face flushed at the demons' proximity (they're both in her space, macaque practically leaning against her shoulder and wukong sitting so close in front that their knees were touching). he notices the way the dappled sunlight hits her skin, the way her lashes frame her eyes. he notes the way loose peach blossom petals decorate her hair. he has to stop himself from reaching out to tuck the little strands that have escaped her updo back into place.

wukong finds himself becoming a bit enamored. his tail curls a bit, and his smile becomes gentler the longer he looks at her.

after talking with her for a while and sharing his and macaque's own stories, wukong realizes that they've been gone for a few hours; the sun is beginning to set, the grove taking on a golden hue. they should probably actually go check on dinner, and (regrettably) return reader to azure.

buuuuut....maybe not right away.

wukong offers reader a tour of the stone palace before she leaves.

---

reader didn't know what was happening.

why was she able to speak with these— these murderers so easily? she should be running away, she should be excusing herself back to azure's side as politely and quickly as she could!

but...but she was having fun. she was having a friendly chat with the monkey king and six-eared macaque of all demons—and laughing, for heaven's sake.

though most of it stemmed from her fear of offending them, the fact that she's speaking with them at all feels like a betrayal of her race. these two, on their own, had killed hundreds, possibly thousands of humans. they could change their minds about playing nice at any moment.

but—but in this light, in this context...they were almost like any ordinary men. were it not for their obviously demon appearances (though reader couldn't say the two were unattractive; the soft glow of the evening light did them many favors), their status, their bloody history—reader could consider them good company.

thinking about it made her want to cry, like she'd been on the verge of the entire time she'd been on this mountain. she wanted to go home and have that cry in the privacy of her bedchambers.

so when the monkey king (he insisted she call him wukong) offered to take her on a tour of the palace, reader thoroughly considered refusing, politeness be damned. she should really just go back to the monster she knows, not run off with one she doesn't.

however, she was curious about what the rest of the cave looked like. she and azure had entered through the massive water curtain, been lead through a large foliage-infested pavilion full of wukong's chattering simian subjects, into the reception hall, and then immediately into the council room. she hadn't gotten to see much, but what she did see she considered very beautiful.

reader, through her anxiety, had marveled at everything she saw. flower fruit mountain was so...alive compared to camel ridge. she preferred it here, at least in that way.

maybe...maybe going on a little tour wouldn't be so bad. it'd give her an excuse for her absence from azure's side, for one (though it wasn't like she was doing anything wrong by not being next to her kidnapper every second). he could stand to not have her near for a few more hours. plus, how could he say no to something as innocent as a tour? and if the eager look on the monkey king's face along with the coaxing smile on macaque's were any indication, they probably weren't going to take "no" for an answer.

well, reader thought in a resigned manner, she'd already gotten this far. what was the harm in spending a little more time with these two?

#bad end wukong #twice as bad au #lion's den au #this got long

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bones-of-a-rabbit · 4 months

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happy day before gifts or smthn, have a happi kittycat (lion) Sunboi asking for a kisskiss (and RECEIVING!!!!)

(AU credit to @rainbowcat-writing !!!!!!! good froend i love them)

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johnwickb1tsch · 3 months

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bittersweet 🖤 a yandere!john wick x fem!reader coffee shop sunshine/grump au

Table of Contents

something sweet

burned

the cougar

the mountain

lamb in the lion's den

avenging angel

the book thief

joyride

pest

drunk text

mondo piccolo

la dolce vita

vino veritas

kitten

walk of shame

bad girl

got u

war and peace

crime and punishment

lost and found

bound for hell

deal with the devil

show me your teeth

bully

knots

breaking point

surprise

haunted

lady of the daisies

say something

run

tbc...

#decided to make a chapter map...#john wick #keanu reeves #john wick fic #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves x reader #yandere! john wick #yandere john wick #bittersweet john wick imagine

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msmorningstaarr · 4 months

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let me fill you up | Jaime Lannister x F!Targaryen reader

ao3 | masterlist

Pairing: Jaime Lannister x F!Targaryen reader

Summary: You, a Targaryen princess were married into the Lannister fold to ensure the alliance between the two houses, ensuring your eldest brother’s claim to the Iron Throne. Now, Lord Jaime makes your days filled with happiness and makes you eager to present him babies.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: rhaegar wins AU, no targcest, smuff, fluff, breeding kink, praising kink, a lot of pet names (sweet girl, princess, love), reader has no physical description besides the silvery white targaryen hair, creampie, oral (f receiving), a very devoted husband commited to your pleasure, smut, sex;

a/n: Happy new year! I had posted I wanted to write something like that and it's been a while since I want to write something other than holy and heathen because I must admit I'm not very satisfied with what I've been writing lately. Some validation kudos, comments and reblogs would be very important to me, seriously :') I’ve been thinking in turning this into a small series but I’m not so sure. Could you give me your thoughts on this too? please, enjoy your reading!

Taglist: @princessanglophile @hiroikegawa @hiraethrhapsody

You are sitting surrounded by your maids and children on a breezy night, covered with a fur coat and a crimson silk dress under it. Attentively, you go stitch by stitch and slowly form a lion, sigil of your husband’s house. Ever since Robert’s Rebellion ended and your brother, King Rhaegar Targaryen won, you became promised to the former knight of the Kingsguard, now Lord Jaime Lannister. Life in the lion’s den was not difficult, once Lord Tywin treated her with the most kindness and Jaime was still coming out of his shell. At first, he was your sworn sword in King’s Landing and spent plenty of time together in an unbalanced relationship. Now, you two are sharing a bed after a tumultuous year of war and destruction, as equals. In the beginning, you were sceptical about marrying into the Lannister household, but as the months went by, you found yourself drowned at him. Jaime is careful, gentle and kind. He brings you a small dandelion every morning once he knows it reminds you of home.

His only quirk was the strange attachment to his sister, Lady Cersei. But after being sent to Dorne to marry Prince Oberyn of House Martell and getting distant from each other, your relationship with your husband seemed to finally thrive.

“It appears to be beautiful, my lady.” Said one of her maids, taking care of your youngest son, a small silvery blonde figure of two years of age.

“A bright lion handkerchief for Jaime to carry with him.” You reply, admiring your piece of work. “Do you believe your father will like it, sweetling?” You then ask your eldest daughter, an adorable child of four. Your daughter eagerly nods her head and wraps her hands around one of your fingers to pull the fabric closer to her eyes.

“Dada will love it, mama!” The little one exclaimed, spinning around with the kerchief on her tiny hands.

“What will I love, if I’m allowed to ask?” A tall, blonde figure shows up in your private bedchambers, wearing a classic Westerland attire with a crimson fabric and intricate strings of gold shaped into the sleeves and collar. You smile sweetly to Jaime as he approaches you and grabs your middle child to hold in his arms.

“Papa!” The blonde little girl runs towards her father to embrace his legs and your maids stand up to bow to their lord.

“Have you missed me, dear?” Jaime asked and the fussy children eagerly nodded at him, embracing their father even more. Sometimes, seeing Jaime being so loving and kind towards your children simply melted your heart. You felt the urgency to kiss him and dig your fingers onto his bright hair, begging him for another child. Your cunt ached in pleasure to the thought of Jaime pumping his seed inside of you. You were still young and could bear many more children.

“Mm-rrhm…” You scoffed. “I have missed you too, husband.”

The three children giggled and the child on his arms hid his face on the crook of Jaime’s neck. The eldest covered her laugh with her tiny hands and the youngest beamed along their siblings. Jaime came closer to you and caressed your cheeks with his free hand. Then, a single and gentle kiss he places over your forehead, making your heart flutters with love and passion.

“I have missed you too, my love.” Jaime said, passing his fingertips on your chin and smiling at you.

Your maids quickly stood up and bowed at their overlord as a sign of respect. “Excuse me, my lord, my lady,” Said the servant girl. “Let us take the children so you can rest.”

“But I want to stay with papa!” Said the elder daughter, pouting and crossing her arms. The other two children whined and complained along, but you lowered into their level whilst Jaime talked to the youngest on his arm.

“Sweetlings,” She said, caressing their cheeks. “Your father is rather tired after riding for so long. Go with her, I promise you, your siblings, me and your father will have plenty of time together on the morrow. Is that understood, my loves?”

“I can take you to ride a horse tomorrow and even let you eat lemon cakes before super. What do you think?” Jaime asked, delivering the fussy child from his arms to the other maid. In unison, the three infants agreed and left disappointed. Once you and your husband were alone in your bedchambers, Jaime smiled at you gallantly. You embrace him intimately and are finally able to feel the warmth of his muscular body and feel the softness of his golden hair. His lips reach yours and in a whirlwind of sensations, your cunt is already dripping in anticipation just by a simple touch coming from him. Once he breaks the kiss, he keeps holding you by your waist and gazing at you with admiration.

“You have been gone for too long, love.” You say, passing your fingertips on his lips. He smiles and gives you a peck on the lips before speaking.

“I had duties with your brother, Our Grace King Rhaegar, sweet girl.” Jaime replies, pulling her out gently and grabbing the fabric she embroidered for him.

“I hope you like it, I made it just for you.” You point out, joining your hands to follow him. He keeps smiling as he observes attentively the intricate work you did.

“I shall cherish it and take it wherever I go, dragon princess.” He replied, folding and putting the kerchief in one of his pockets. You giggle as you hear him calling you ‘dragon princess’, a custom he chose to never abandon as a form to remember the late days of their relationship “I wish I had more time to be around and play with the children, I have been missing them and you.”

“They made drawings every day and left it on your desk at your office.” You reply, walking to the window and being followed by him.

“I will make sure to have them guarded in our chambers. Safe as our gold.” He says, hugging you from behind and kissing your neck lightly. You beam in ecstasy feeling his body smother you into a comforting embrace and full missing him.

“Sometimes I still cannot believe we are wedded to each other. You were my sworn shield in King’s Landing!” You exclaim as his hand caresses your empty belly and it tingles by his touch. He grins at your words and says.

“Most people are not so lucky to know your spouse before the wedding day. I consider myself the most lucky man in the world because I could be in your acquaintance from so long ago.” He replies, falling his head on the crook of your neck.

You turn around to be face to face with Jaime, feeling the cold breeze of the rock hitting your back and giving you small shocks as Jaime caresses your back, making you experience a thermal shock and shudder to his touch.

“I feel very lucky to be your wife, Jaime. Most women are not so fortunate to have such a kind, loving and handsome husband.” You mutter as he strokes your hair, in awe with your beauty.

“I guess we are fortunate to be together after so many troubles in war. We even brought new lives into this world to paint a new, brightful history.” He replies, caressing your womb. You stare at his fingers passing up and down your belly and glances at him with a sweet smile.

“And we could have more, love. I must admit I feel empty for so long and I want to give you more children… I know I can give you an entire army of your own. Half lion, half dragon. Unstoppable creatures.”

“You feel empty, love?” He asks, smirking and you eagerly agree with him. “Then allow me to fill you up…” Jaime finished, slowly undoing the intricate laces of your dress to reveal your bare skin under the crimson fabric. In response, you open his attire slowly and little by little his white tunic appears to her eyes.

By this point, your cunt is already sore in anticipation for the moment about to happen and clenches around nothing once he pushes the last section of string holding your garment, releasing you from the pressure tightening your upper body. Jaime pushes down your dress and your underwear is now on display for him, which makes him bite his lip and eagerly take down your white camisole to show him your bare body. You moan as he squeezes your breast and pinches your nipples whilst kissing you. You quickly take off his own undershirt to show off his chest.

“So eager is my dragon princess.” He playfully says, leading you to bed and carefully laying you down. With devotion, he starts to kiss your feet, legs and knees, his hands roaming through your thighs and hips. “Spread your legs for me, little dragon.”

You part your legs, obeying his soft command. “So wet… I can see you truly missed me, my love.” He says, kissing your inner thighs as your body squirms in pleasure before he reaches your intimacy.

“Oh… I have missed you so much, my lion.” You moan your words as he kisses your groyne and passes his fingers lightly over your clit, making your womb tremble and convulse to his touch.

“I can see that, just as I missed you, my dragon princess. Do I have permission to give you a lord’s kiss?” He asks and you only nod in response, making Jaime wet his lips with his own saliva before diving into your dripping core and you to scream involuntarily as his tongue and lips eat you up with full desire. Jaime circles his tongue around your clit and roam around your entire intimacy, making your hips bounce onto his direction. It was his costume to make you come every time before he would be inside of you, now could not be different.

You feel your body explode as if someone threw you into dragon fire as Jaime relentlessly pleases you, making magic with his tongue. Skillfully, he explores your intimate area inch by inch with eagerness, making you dig your fingers on his golden curls, pulling him closer to your cunt and you contorses your body urging for more. Tears of pleasure fall off as you feel goosebumps once you realise you are close to your climax.

As the intensity builds, Jaime's movements become more deliberate, pushing you closer to the edge of bliss. Your breath hitches, and your fingers entwine in his golden locks, urging him on. The world narrows down to the pleasure he provides, the connection between you deepening with every passing moment.

When the climax finally crashes over you, Jaime doesn't relent. He continues to caress your sensitive core with his tongue, prolonging the sweet release. Your body shudders with pleasure, and you feel the bond between you and Jaime reaching new heights.

“Husband…” You try to stop him and give yourself some time to take a breath, but Jaime does not back off and part your legs once more, holding it as he keeps licking, kissing and sucking your pussy.

“No no, wife… let me please you and bring you to climax once more…” He cuts your words and gently goes back, but now he plays with his fingers on your clit, with far less pressure and slowly draws circles around it, taking soft moans from you. Jaime rises to hover over you, a wicked glint in his eyes. His fingers trace patterns on your flushed skin as he leans in for a heated kiss, allowing you to taste the remnants of your own pleasure on his lips. “Taste yourself, love.”

And not so long after, you scream his name as you feel waves of pleasure hitting your body as a lightning bolt hits the ground in a storm. Your body is trembling and your legs seem to be two wooden sticks, barely able to stand.

“Please… inside of me, Jaime… I need you…” You plead with him, pulling his body to be on top of yours.

“Your wish is my command, princess.” He replies, kissing you passionately once more and positioning between your legs. Jaime's eyes meet yours, filled with a mixture of desire and adoration. The anticipation was hanging heavy in the air, your bodies aligned perfectly, and as he slowly entered you, a shared moan escaped both of your lips.

The sensation is electrifying, the culmination of the pleasure he bestowed upon you and the intimate connection between your bodies. Jaime moves with a rhythmic precision, each thrust deepening the bond that exists only between you two.

“My perfect princess takes me so well…” He grows as thrusts into you going back and forth nonstop. You lock him by involving your legs around his waist and feeling his hard cock entering your cunt in full force, reaching your cervix and making you beg for more in his ear.

The room echoes with the sounds of your shared ecstasy, a symphony of pleasure that reverberates through the stone walls. The flickering candlelight casts shadows that dance across your entwined bodies, creating a tapestry of love and passion.

“Put another babe on my belly Ser, please…” You beg him as moans leave your mouth and the sound of crashing bodies fill the room quickly.

“With pleasure, love…” He says once more. Jaime moves with a rhythmic precision, each thrust deeper inside of your pussy in farfetched positions. He missed you too much after months away from you and it shows by the way he kisses you as he moves desperately to have more of mounting his dragon. The room echoes with the sounds of your shared passion, a symphony of pleasure that reverberates through the stone walls. The flickering candlelight casts shadows that dance across your entwined bodies. As Jaime's movements become faster, the pleasure intensifies, and you find yourself on the verge of another climax. The pleasure is overwhelming, and your bodies move in perfect harmony.

With a final, fervent thrust, Jaime succumbs to the ecstasy and releases his seed deep inside of your womb, growling and grunting with relief and utter bliss. You hit your own orgasm as you feel the warm jets of his seed invading your walls and your body squirm and you scream his name, crying out.

Your bodies tremble in the aftermath, and he collapses beside you, pulling you into his arms. The room is filled with a comforting silence as you both catch your breath. Jaime's fingers gently trace patterns on your skin as you bask in the warmth of the afterglow. “Do you think we created one more life for our household, love?” You ask him, laying your head on his chest. The world outside your chambers seems distant, and for a moment, it's just the two of you, lost in the serenity of each other's embrace.

“Depending on your fertile womb, my love, I have no doubts you are.” He replies, caressing your silvery white hair. “But we must endure in our pursuit on a daily routine. Just to make sure our fourth babe is on the way.” He playfully replies, smirking at you, who mischievously smiles back at him and kisses his lips, wiping some strings of sweat from his face.

Jaime presses a tender kiss to your forehead, his voice a soothing murmur, "I love you, my dragon princess."

And you, wrapped in the arms of the man you love, whisper back, "And I love you, my lion shield."

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