yandere Bakugou who kidnaps you, but doesn't force himself on you because he wants to wait until stockholm syndrome kicks in, only for him to run out of pateince
Boring long hours at work, day in and day out. Measly tasks lacking challenge—just patrols and paperwork—too much to be considered anything remotely thrilling, yet straining enough to leave his back feeling sore on the drive home.
Zoning out while his car zips along the barren street past midnight—operating halfway on autopilot with only one worn hand kept on the steering wheel—picturing you, though not any version of you he's ever really seen aside from in his dreams—heavy half-mast eyes set on the road ahead, staring past black asphalt and white and yellow stripes until finally pulling up the driveway to his overly remote house.
He sighed when looking over the windows, noticing they were all dim black squares, as though no one was home…
Clicking his tongue, he knew he shouldn't be expecting any warm welcome.
And just as he thought, the house was cold, pitch-black, and silent.
He sighed once more while removing his shoes in the quiet darkness of the house, noiseless enough to hear the low hoots and howls from owls and the like in the surrounding forest.
He walked over to the kitchen first, found the breakfast he'd left for you untouched, and shook his head. You couldn't make it more obvious. You nearly have him convinced he's only been imagining you.
Doing a quick look around, he concluded that all the locks were in place, meaning no stolen knives were hidden away underneath the pillow like last time.
He opened his mouth to call out for you, but looking into the dark living room, he spotted a small foot dangling over the edge of the sofa before your name ever left his lips.
Sighing—one half relief, the other plain exhaustion—he made his way over to your likely sleeping figure.
At least you’d stopped hiding...
Your nipples were hard little peaks beneath the thin fabric of the kimono he'd bought you a couple of weeks ago. Fine red silk, rose lace trim decorating the edges, lying smoothly over your thighs, splitting for a peek at the sexy panty on your hip.
You looked somewhat comfortable like that, cuddling in front of the fireplace despite it being all cold charcoal. You’d probably been watching the trees through the windows before dozing off again. The thick forest that stood between you and civilization. A forest you’d broken your wrist tripping in during a failed escape attempt, one of the first weeks of your stay.
He could spot tears on your lashes as he knelt down—pretty face submerged a little less than halfway into the pillows—soft lips, bloated after crying—your cheeks, too, puffy and raw with streaks.
He sat down next to you with yet another sigh, lifting your feet gently enough not to wake you before laying them down on his lap. He could pretend it was normal that way—fantasize about how you’d fallen asleep waiting for him to come home, though knowing that was far from the case.
His eyes strayed from your face, looking down at your pretty neck and collarbones. Thinking to himself how unfair it is, how fragile you are, as though begging him to take advantage. All narrow shoulders and skinny wrists—soft breasts and thighs—nothing tough or strong like him, only legs that could try kicking but wouldn’t really amount to much if he decided not to take your pleas into consideration.
It was becoming harder and harder every day to ignore the urge to throw you onto his bed and do what he wanted and had been wanting to do ever since he locked you up. But, that first day, he had decided in the midst of seeing your pretty face all riddled with tears and agony that he was going to be nice.
He’d been trying for a long while now to keep his hands to himself, hoping that some semblance of Stockholm syndrome would kick in or that you, too, would grow touch-starved and feel that desperate clawing ache to feel the intimacy of another human being.
But so far, it seemed like a foolish fantasy—and reality remained more like a nightmare. You would only recoil away from him, shudder under his touches, no matter how delicate and gentle they were, no matter how careful he forced himself to be. You’d only cringe and cry and beg him to wait.
That almost pissed him off more—how you’d make it sound like it was all about sex. Sex and nothing else. How you made him out to be this filthy lowlife who took you to fulfill his gross needs, and you as part of some human trafficking scheme. Taken against your will to serve as some type of sex slave.
If that were the case, he’d helped himself long ago, now wouldn't he?
If that was the entire gist of it, why would he allow you to walk about the house all of your own free will? Why didn't he just keep you tied up, have you chained and roped to some table or wall in the basement, hose you down every time he was feeling itchy for release, feed you what was needed, and otherwise leave you alone in the cold, dreary, dark cellar?
Heck, if that were the case, you’d probably be dead. It’s not like he would enjoy fucking a crying, screaming, tempest above what other kinky sluts who would love to be kept held up in his basement.
But it isn’t about sex. And you really ought to count your blessings for that. Put your life in perspective and get your priorities straight. Maybe then you’d realize just how much you should be grateful for, and accept his love, knowing he could be giving you the whip.
Men and women around the world would literally kill for a piece of him—he's seen the forums—there's no end to the people who want to fuck him. And yet, here you are, the one person he actually wants, and you won't even let him touch you.
But, it's not about sex.
It's not about sex, and yet… he shifted uncomfortably, groaning out a gruff curse word at how his pants grew tighter around his crotch.
He’s only holding your feet, and he’s already got a boner. It makes him feel gross—makes him feel like the monster you treat him like. But it’s not his fault… it’s just been a minute. A long minute.
In all fairness, it’s actually your fault.
You’ve starved him.
Don’t you get how nice he's being? He just gives and gives and gives and gets nothing in return.
Stuck counting the days that turned into weeks that turned into months—making him lose his mind thinking about how much longer you’d have him wait. Feeling more and more inclined to say to hell with kindness—especially after days such as these—unsubstantial selfless days where he deserves something in return at the end, preferably something in the shape of his little lady bouncing on his cock and mewing all softly and girlishly, spread wide in welcome beneath him, blushing all bashfully with her lips parted, eyes full of devotion, clenching around him when whining out how much she loves him.
Why can’t you do that for him? Is a little consideration too much to ask for after all the consideration he’s shown you? Can’t you appreciate how nice he’s been? Are you really that selfish?
No… he knows it’s flawed to think that way… He knows it’s wrong, and yet… his hand moves from your foot, shifting until he’s kneeling in his seat, looming over you.
His head boiled with guilt, but there was something more heated in his gut as he brushed a strand of hair out of your face, then pulled the bow of your kimono.
Goosebumps spread across your skin due to the cold, while he fought the immediate urge to touch you. Forcing himself to be gentler with it as his fingers ghosted your breasts, looking over your cute little nips protruding beneath the sheer lace of your bralette.
Leaning down, he gave one of them a kiss through the fabric. You moaned softly in return—and the sound, though sleepy and involuntary, was perverted in his desperate mind and sent an immediate signal to his lower half, making him ever heavier and hotter.
He groaned and grabbed his bulge to relieve himself just a bit while burying his face in the dip between your tits, smelling the sweet scent of sweat mingled with lotion. Softly tasting your skin with sloppy kisses as he traveled south.
He gave his tented pants one more squeeze before putting both hands on your hips, fingering the lacey string there. Breathing hot and heavy puffs onto your panties, burying his nose in the soft mound, and taking a deep whiff.
The following heated growl woke you.
“Mmh… what’s?” you moaned and slowly blinked the sleep away until both your eyes widened.
Immediately, your hands shot down to hold onto your underwear.
“N-no! Stop—”
Eyes hooded, he only gave you half a glare in return, chin nestled in the soft dip of your pussy. His large hands kept on your hips, having a grip on the underwear you were trying to keep on by overlapping his with your smaller hands.
“Mmh…” he grumbled, as though weighing options while circling your hipbone with his thumb before finally making a decision. “I think I’ve had it with your nos.”
Your brows furrowed as you felt an sharp cut in your gut, allowing the words to spill out like blood from a fresh wound. “No, no, don’t—” you tried in desperation, waking up fully with a rush of panic. “Don’t touch me.”
He ignored the cry and took hold of the wrists that had begun pushing him away. Not too pleased with the spur of struggles he’d encouraged from your former calm beauty.
“No, get off, please, no, please—” you continued, and when you realized the effort was wasted, you began bawling like never before. “You-you said-you said you wouldn’t, you said—you said you’d wait!” you screamed, eyes wet and raw, lashes sprinkled with teardrops, and lips curled in every way but a smile.
But he had no more mercy left to offer.
“Until you’re ready?” he spat. “What a fucking joke.”
He laughed bitterly before seething, his face less than an inch away from yours.
“I have been waiting,” he bit out. “Months now, I’ve waited for you.”
A little pop of joints was heard from where he held a grip on your wrists, and you winced against the lips that ghosted yours with spiteful words.
“I’ve been patient. I’ve given you time, I’ve been nice, I’ve been good,” he listed.
The hand not busy containing yours went from rubbing your hip to messaging the soft, pliable fat of your thigh before changing course, moving between your legs instead.
No, unlike before, he wouldn’t be stopping this time—wouldn’t settle for a one-sided dry-humping or jacking off with your underwear. You’d exhausted the max amount of his patience.
“Time you return the fucking favor,” he whispered while his thick fingers made themselves busy, hooking the trail of your panties and pulling them to the side, baring you with only one thought on his mind.
You didn't really need to be willing...
You just needed to be naked.
♡ BAKUGOU KATSUKI masterlist
♡ BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA masterlist
For the first time ever, he’d been careless when he got home.
Tired after work, not paying attention. But you’d noticed. You’d been waiting for it, after all… for the moment he’d slip up and let you strike.
Your pulse spiked and drowned out all other noise, letting you focus, but still…
You jumped the gun.
You should have been more patient, should have waited until he was farther away, but waiting was dangerous—a double-edged sword—as it risked his coming closer as well. And so you pounced—sprang up from the couch you’d been rotting in and ran for it.
You’d only barely made it out of the door for a quick taste of freedom before you’d been grabbed and pulled back.
And now you were here. Back in the bedroom, in the dark, under lock and key.
He stands with his back to you after closing the door—shoulders hunched, muscles strained—you can see the deep outlines even in the shadow. He seemed larger than usual—a beast—and yet he was so deadly quiet that, if you closed your eyes, you could pretend you were alone.
When he finally turns around, you’re immediate instinct is to make yourself smaller, and so you sit down, sinking into the bed like you’re ashamed, head down as he walks over—both of you breathing carefully through your nose.
He stops right before you—still silent, no harsh words of admonishment, no cruel names, no threats, no warnings, no nothing, as if waiting for it was part of the torture. Still, you catch his arms flexing—skin greyish in the soft moonlight, bright against the black of his tattoos.
You imagine his hand around your neck, but despite your throat closing shut, the question burning in your head still manages to come through, “Are you gonna hurt me?”
His face is jaded when you dare lift your head to look up at him, eyes half-mast, lips in a straight line—no obvious anger, but you feel it still, lingering just beneath the surface, burning you when his hand ascends to cup your chin, despite it being gentle, just like his words, “Have I ever hurt you?”
You swallow a tremble, thinking about it and realizing that, despite the situation, despite being kidnapped and held hostage and taken against your will in the bed beneath you, he hasn’t actually ever laid a bruising hand on you. “M-no.” But still…
“Then what makes you think I will?” he asks, giving you pause again.
“I–” your eyes are shifty, but not from guilt. “I don’t know.”
It’s a quick answer—the type you give when you just don’t understand the question. After all, isn’t it natural to expect punishment when you’ve done something you’re not supposed to do? Not that you agree that freedom is something you aren’t allowed to strive for, but you’re not the one in charge of the situation, and seeing things from his perspective, it would only make sense for him to hold you accountable for breaking the rules, wouldn’t it?
“Is it ‘cause you think you deserve it?”
Goosebumps spring out across your skin at that. “What?” Sometimes you swear it’s as though he’s inside your head.
“For trying to leave me, that is,” he continues, steeled eyes never once blinking or looking away from yours, watching them swell and gloss over, soon to spill, but not yet—still too apprehensive to allow tears to distract you.
He can’t blame you. You really fucked up this time—he’s glad you seem to understand that too.
“You want me to punish you for it—so that you can feel better about it, right? You want me to punish you so that I might forgive you, and we can leave it behind us. Hm?” His other hand joins the former, both now holding each side of your face. Head bowed, just a short distance away, murmuring softly while smoothing his thumbs over your cheeks. “That’ what you want?”
Your fingers dig into the sheets, gripping them tightly, shaking your head in his hold. “No-no, that’s not–”
“Then why?” he cuts you off, still just as suavely.
It’s unnerving. Typically, he isn’t this calm—or he is, but not like this, not like he’s containing something.
You’d have liked to say something more clever, something that might spare you whatever this mood of his is, but given it’s your first time, you’re not sure what that would even be. And so you leave it up to him, spilling the truth, and nothing but, “Because I’m scared.”
His thumbs don’t stop their petting, big and gritty against the soft belly of your cheeks. “I’m not doing anything, am I?”
It’s a strange declaration. No, he’s not doing anything too far out of the ordinary, though—let’s not forget “You won’t let me leave…” You almost regret stating it, despite it being obvious, as if your act from earlier wasn’t a dead giveaway. “I-I want to leave.”
You don’t say it with much gusto. In fact, it only barely makes it out through your lips. Still, you can tell he heard you from the ever-so slight tug on his lips, turning the straight line into a grim one.
You feel it in his hands too, how they stiffen, thumbs stilling.
“I gotta say… it really sounds like you want me to hurt you,” he counterclaims, tone cold and flat, as though he didn’t just threaten you, but rather, as though he was feeling fed up with having to explain something really simple to someone who should already be well aware. “You sure that’s what you want?”
“Wha-no—” You try shaking your head again, but it doesn’t amount to much before he cuts you off again, this time by leaning in closer, less than a foot away.
“No?” His breath hits hot and steady upon your face. You squeeze your eyes shut when he gets too close, tears finally escaping their pools. “Then tell me again. What is it you want?”
“To stay—” you blurt out with a shiver, voice wet as you croak, “I want to stay–”
“Yeah?” he persists, lips ghosting yours, eyes eagerly awaiting yours to open again.
“Yes…” You sniffle, so pretty when looking up at him like that, aware of and accepting your place.
“Good. Glad we can both agree,” he hums, finally letting a smile cross his face as he guides your head back and sets his knee down next to your thigh, sinking into the mattress, caging you as he climbs, continuing, “You see, I don’t want to hurt you either. As long as you don’t make me, we can both continue doing what we want. Right?”
“Right...” you agree weakly, shuffling further in under his direction.
“That’s right. Good.” He lets go of your face, then reaches for the hem of his shirt, bunching it in his grip before pulling it up and off over his head, tossing it aside and revealing rows of strength determined to make you feel small.
“So then…” He fishes your legs up from beneath him, positioning himself between them so that they lie atop his lap, spread open by his torso. Hands on your hips, readying a grip around your panties as he leans in close.
It’s finally here, I know I’ve been teasing with this story for weeks but life has been hectic and I wanted to do some requests, but here it is, the forest entity story. Hope y’all enjoy it!
The tree-hole debacle
Forest entity x fem!human || very light dub-con, tentacles (more like vines), bondage, squirting
Oh no. Oh, no, no, no... You kept chanting in your brain. You were trying to reach the fucking shiny thing you saw in the tree's hole and you got stuck. In the middle of the forest. All your torso inside a tree-hole and your legs kicking the air. You couldn't get out. You were stuck. You felt like you were living your own bad porno. Fuck.
You always knew your eagerness to pick stuff in the woods would bring you problems, but you never thought it would be in the shape of a tree. A fucking tree. You were just walking around the forest trying to find some good pieces to build some more fairy jewelry, who knew you could get stuck in a tree. And now you didn’t know what to do, how to get out. A spark of anxiety was creeping up your back. What if you died there? What if they found you dead in a tree-hole? They would think you are a weirdo. Well, in that they wouldn’t be wrong, but that would be so embarrassing. News would say something along the lines of “young girl found in a tree”, and that would be awful in so many levels. God damn it.
You tried crying for help, but you knew there wasn’t anyone coming, you never followed the path, confident you’d find your way back. And you always did, you have some kind of sixth sense about these woods, they called to you. And well, now you called whoever was listening to get you out of that damn tree-hole.
When you felt something creeping behind you, you started kicking your legs, trying to scare whatever animal was close. You didn’t want to be attacked by a random wolf or something. You didn’t even know what kind of animals could roam the forest, you were so careless in the way you explored the woods without thinking about it. You felt like a dummy now, a completely dumb woman who was now stuck in a fucking tree.
Something behind you let out a growl, you started to panic, moving your legs faster, making sounds to scare it away. A light caress to the back of your leg made you twitch, your whole body reacting with full on panic. But before you could scream, you were hanging out upside down, roots embracing your body. You were suspended in the middle of the woods, a weird creature made of leaves and some kind of mud in front of you. He slowly shook your body up and down, making you bounce in an uncomfortable way.
Your confusion, added to being upside down, made your head feel all kinds of dizzy. The roots around you seemed to come from everywhere, like he could control all the things around you. What was he? He answered you without having to verbalize your question: “I’m the spirit of these woods, and you, human, were asking for help. I came.” His voice sounded deep, like if he was talking from inside a cave, an echo of a real voice. Your body shivered.
“I- You- What?” Your confusion at everything happening was making your head spin. He turned you around, hanging you in an upright position this time, your feet still far away from the ground.
“You were screaming, the little creatures came to find me. And here I am,” he explained. His matter of fact statement made you think he was crazy. Maybe you were crazy. Maybe you did die inside that damn tree-hole and all of this was just an hallucination.
“Thanks?” You didn’t know if that was the correct answer, the vines and roots around your body wouldn’t stop twitching, touching, careful not to touch any of your most vulnerable parts. But hey were exploring everything else, caressing your hair, your cheeks, your legs… “Can you put me down?” You asked.
“No.” That instant denial should have scared you, but weirdly enough, you didn’t feel fear or panic anymore. Your body was calm, your mind completely quiet and relaxed. What kind of weird mojo was he doing to you? “You asked for the help of a forest spirit, you need to repay your debt now.” You looked at him expectantly, trying to convey you needed more explanation. He didn’t say anything.
“What the fuck does that mean?” You finally asked, a spark of anger rising inside your chest.
He nodded as if your question was answered like that and said: “I will take you now.” The vines around you started to pull at your clothes. You struggled against the hold, but they were so strong and tight that you could barely move some millimeters.
You struggled harder, screaming at him: “What? No!” You looked at him with all the fire inside of you. If looks could kill, he’d be killed right there, right now. But it wasn’t the case. He just looked amused at your struggles. But he stopped the vines from moving, some of them hovering over your tits and mouth, so close you could smell the petrichor smell they emanated. It was intoxicating.
“You have to pay, human. The balance must be restored.” That made no sense to you, he talked about restoring balance as if you had a debt with the forest or something. What?
“But I didn’t ask for your help.” He looked back at you skeptical, his dark eyes so expressive even though he didn’t have eyelids or brows. His face was so weird, but enthralling at the same time. “Okay, I did need help, but I don’t- I don’t want to have sex with you,” you lied through your teeth.
The truth was that you were aroused, the vines around your body were making you all kinds of horny. You always dreamed of being tied down, of being at the mercy of your partner as they took their fill off you. And without knowing it, he was restraining you, making all your fantasies come to the surface and making your pussy tingle. But you weren’t going to say that to him.
“What is sex, human?” The question caught you off guard, how could he not know what sex was?
“You… You said you’d take me.”
He was looking at you intently, like the answer to your unasked question was obvious and you were just dumb. Maybe you were. “I’ll give you pleasure so your juices can fertilize my forest,” he explained. You could what?
“You what? Fertilize? What?” And then it clicked. “You want to make me cum?” It seemed so random you couldn’t fully process what that meant.
“I believe that’s how humans call it, yes.”
You argued with the angel in your head, but the demon rapidly won the argument and before you could process it fully you were saying: “I- I- Okay.” Your voice was barely a whisper but he nodded and the vines around you closed more firmly against your body, making you shiver. It was weirdly comforting to be held so tightly.
You clothes were pushed away, thrown carelessly to the ground and you found yourself wrapped in vines and roots, suspended in the air. He opened your legs fully, exposing your holes to his eyes. He approached you then, his weird face close to your pussy, but not touching. The leaves around his head tickled the inside of your legs as he inspected you, his breath cold against your heated skin. You whimpered, being exposed to him so openly was embarrassing beyond belief, but the juices dripping off your cunt were even worse.
He reached around him and took some kind of leave, different to the ones covering his head. He squeezed it until a clear substance formed. He coated one of the vines with, the vine shifted into a wider form, cupping your whole pussy, coating it with the substance. At first, you felt nothing, but suddenly scolding heat ran through your body and you came. Just like that. You came faster than ever, he didn’t do anything, he didn’t touch your clit, your entrance… He just put some magical liquid over your cunt and made you cum. What the fuck?
You didn’t get to catch your breath before another vine was proving your entrance, making you moan loudly as it pushed inside. Two more vines appeared, framing your boobs and squeezing, some leaves playing with your nipples at the same time. The pleasure was maddening. The combined sensation of the vine entering you and the leaves was so overwhelming that you came again. This time your scream was cut short when another vine pushed against your asshole. Surprise and arousal made you arch your back, which was fruitless, the restrains on your body so tight you couldn’t move at all.
He was still close, observing the vines playing with your body, controlling everything but not touching you. You felt dehumanized, you were just a means to an end for him. And that made you hot. You could be anybody, everybody. He didn’t care. He just wanted your juices… And he was milking every drop off you.
The vine on your pussy pressed against your G-spot, the sensation too rough and raw. Some more juices gushed around it as you came again. He hit and probed and pushed and made your mind go blank as he transformed your body into a pleasure machine. You came, and came, and came. You were sure there was a river down your legs at that point. You were crying, tears running down your face as he assaulted all your sensitive areas at once. Your body felt like an exposed nerve.
When you thought you couldn’t take anymore, he pushed a new vine in your already overflowing pussy. You saw stars as the vines inside of you intertwined. You were so full, so sensitive, you couldn’t stop crying in pleasure, your voice long gone.
And then something inside of you broke completely and you were peeing. Peeing? No, squirting. He made you squirt. Your juices flowed over him, showering his leaves like summer rain. You ascended to another plane, the pleasure beyond human realm, the orgasm so good your brain broke a bit.
He stopped abruptly, his leaves shiny and his face contorted in some sort of a grin. “That would be all, human. You paid the debt to the forest.” You blushed deeply as he lowered your naked body to the ground, a bed of moss forming under you. “I’ll see you soon,” he muttered as he disappeared before your eyes. The earth literally swallowed him.
This masterlist includes tentcle-monsters and all monsters with tentacle-like appendages including slimes and forest entities with vines.
Long-ish stories
Lake day (tentacle monster x fem!reader)
The tree-hole debacle (forest entity x fem!reader)
[Patreon Commission] Monster-tale (tentacle monster x fem!OC x fem!reader)
[Patreon Commission] After clossing (tentacle monster x orc x warlock fem!reader) || part 2
Tentacled (gn!tentacle-monster x fem!reader)
[Patreon Commission] The husband and the fake husband (Shadow-monster x male!human x chubby fem!reader)
[Patreon Commission] Fully bred (Tentacle-monster x fem!reader)
[Patreon Commission] Need to be good (Shadow-monster x fem!reader)
Requests
Plant toy (forest entity x fem!reader) [part 2 of The tree-hole debacle]
Plant-trapped (plant-monster x witch fem!reader)
Good monster (tentacle monster x fem!reader)
Helping-tentacles (tentacle-monster x transmasc!reader)
Underwater court (kraken x fem!siren)
Forest entity: Picnics and situationships (forest entity x fem!reader)
Sucking the soul out of you (Tentacle-monster x transmasc!reader)
Any hole is a goal (Werewolf x tentacle-monster x fem!reader) || PART 2
Ride a tentacle monster, save an… octopus (Fem!Tentacle monster x male!reader)
Short Txt/Imagines
Pleasure slime
I do not consent to have any form of reproduction, replication, or translation of my stories without my explicit consent. This includes reposting my stories on other websites, platforms, etc.
enjoys fighting against you, the Dornmen Port Captain, in charge of all trade, and one of the few people who can best in him combat
you can't stand
taunts and flirts with you, begging for another fight against one another
you best in a fight by choke holding him between your thighs, a signature move until he can't breathe and has to tap out as a sign of submission
you tell him you know that he just wants to fight to have an excuse to be between your legs
smiles but it never reaches his eyes, wanting nothing more than to take you right there, in front of all the knights, watching how you squirm under him as he bites deep into your neck, bleeding his poison into you
Reader have no idea that they're dating the batboys for a quite some time already, although reader does hope for it, they just thought that the batboys being so nice to them, while the batboys waiting for reader to be ready to do couple stuff, they just thought reader is shy 😭
I been thinking this for a while now
Reader: what you mean we're dating?!?!
Batboys: we've been dating for a while now???
“I like you so much, and you don’t even know it.”
Sorry lowkey disappeared again.Im having my daughter next month,scared asf💔💔.My fanny is gonna be DESTROYED.also random does anyone else hate podfics.Like it will have the perfect plot and then say” podfic” like turn that shit off omg.
Batboys x Reader: clueless Reader
Bruce Wayne
The “exclusive relationship” was IMPLIED, apparently
•Bruce thought things were very clear.
• In his defense:
•you spend most nights at the manor
• he takes you to galas
•Alfred refers to you as “Mr. Wayne’s partner”
•Bruce literally kisses you goodbye before meetings
•So naturally he assumes:
yes, this is my significant other.
•Meanwhile you’re spiraling internally every day.
•Because Bruce Wayne is:
•holding your hand
•buying you things
•resting his forehead against yours when tired
•But he’s never technically said:
“Will you be my partner?”
•So your brain goes:
Maybe he’s just emotionally confusing.
•The realization happens because someone at a gala says:
“You and your boyfriend make a lovely couple.”
•You laugh awkwardly.
“Oh..we’re not-“
•Bruce looks over immediately.
“…Not what?”
•You stare at him.
“Dating?”
•Silence.
•Bruce blinks once.
“..We’ve been exclusive for eight months.”
“EIGHT??!”
•You almost choke on your drink.
•Bruce is now deeply confused.
*“You sleep in my bed.”
“AS A FRIEND.”
“I kissed you.”
“PEOPLE KISS CASUALLY SOMETIMES-“
•Bruce just stares at you like your operating system is corrupted.
• Then realization slowly dawns on him.
“…You genuinely didn’t know.”
• You hide your face immediately.
“I thought you were being nice because you liked me as a person.”
•Bruce physically has to sit down.
•Because somehow this is more stressful than fighting Bane.
⸻
Dick Grayson
Actually devastated you didn’t know
•Dick is the MOST affectionate naturally.
•So this misunderstanding gets BAD.
•This man:
• calls you baby
•kisses your forehead
•cuddles you constantly
• takes you on dates
•says “missed you”
•introduced you to the Titans
•And you STILL think:
He’s probably just emotionally open.
•Dick genuinely thinks you’re just shy about labels.
•One day he casually says:
“My girlfriend’s coming over later.”
•You:
“Oh? Who?”
• Dick laughs.
•Then stops laughing.
“…You.”
•You stare at him.
“Wait.”
•He stares back.
“WAIT.”
“You didn’t know we were dating?!”
“I THOUGHT YOU WERE JUST REALLY FRIENDLY.”
•Dick falls backwards onto the couch dramatically.
“I HELD YOUR FACE AND TOLD YOU I ADORED YOU.”
“YEAH BUT YOU’RE DICK GRAYSON. YOU SAY THINGS.”
•He’s losing his mind now.
“I TOOK YOU ON ROMANTIC ROOFTOP DINNERS.”
• “I THOUGHT YOU WERE TESTING LOCATIONS.”
•He actually laughs so hard he can’t breathe.
•Then immediately crawls across the couch to grab your face.
“Okay,” he says, still laughing,
“just so we’re SUPER clear now-”
•Kisses you directly on the mouth.
“Boyfriend. Dating. Romantic. In love with you.”
•You’re bright red.
•Dick thinks this is the funniest thing that’s ever happened to him.
⸻
Jason Todd
• Jason absolutely assumed you knew.
•Because from his perspective:
•you wear his hoodies
•you sleep at his place
•he threatens people for disrespecting you
•you’ve made out multiple times
•Clearly:
Relationship.
• But you’re an overthinker.
•So every time something romantic happens you internally go:
Don’t assume. Don’t ruin the vibe. Stay calm.
•The realization happens when Roy casually says:
“So how long have you two been together now?”
•You immediately answer:
“Oh we’re not together-“
•Jason:
“…What.”
•Roy:
“…WHAT.”
•You panic immediately.
“I MEAN-unless-“
•Jason is staring at you like his soul just left his body.
“Baby.”
“DON’T BABY ME RIGHT NOW.”
“I literally told a guy at a bar you were my girl.”
“I thought that was… metaphorical.”
•Jason actually puts his hands over his face.
“How are you alive.”
•Then he starts laughing.
HARD.
“Oh my god,” he says between laughs,
“you really thought I was just casually obsessed with you.”
•You hide in your hoodie immediately.
His hoodie.
•Jason notices. Smirks.
“You know normal friends don’t share apartments keys either, right?”
Silence.
“…oh my god.”
⸻
Tim Drake
•Tim honestly can’t blame you because he ALSO never formally asked.
• But he thought the relationship progression was obvious.
•You:
•have toothbrushes at each other’s places
• share passwords
• nap together
•hold hands constantly
•went to a wedding together
• Tim categorized this as:
Relationship Acquired.
•You categorized it as:
Extremely emotionally intimate friendship.
•The moment happens because Kon asks:
“Wait, did you never ask them out officially?”
•Tim pauses.
“..I thought I did.”
• You immediately look over.
“You WHAT.”
•Tim starts mentally replaying every interaction you’ve ever had.
“I said ‘you’re my favorite person.’”
“THAT ISN’T A CONFESSION.”
“I BOUGHT YOU FLOWERS.”
“AS A FRIEND???”
•Tim puts his head in his hands.
“This explains SO MUCH.”
“LIKE WHAT?”
“WHY YOU LOOKED PANICKED EVERY TIME I HELD YOUR HAND.”
•You whisper:
“I thought I was imagining things…”
• Tim looks up immediately.
“…Wait, you LIKE liked me?”
“YES???”
⸻
Damian Wayne
Actually offended you thought he behaved this way platonically
•Damian is NOT naturally affectionate.
•Which means from his perspective, this should have been EXTREMELY obvious.
• He:
•seeks you out voluntarily
•touches you first
•allows prolonged physical affection
•lets you hold Titus
• says “beloved”
•In Damian Language this is basically a marriage certificate.
•Meanwhile you:
He’s just… intense.
• The realization happens when you say:
“You’ll make someone really happy one day.”
•Damian stops walking.
• Slowly turns around.
“…Excuse me?”
“What?”“What do you mean ‘someone’?”
•You blink.
“Your future partner?”
•Damian stares at you in complete disbelief.
“Beloved. We are together.”
You laugh nervously.
“Wait, seriously?”
He looks genuinely disturbed now.
“You believed I was behaving this way PLATONICALLY?”
“YOU NEVER ASKED.”
“I ALLOWED YOU IN MY PERSONAL SPACE.”
“…that’s fair actually.”
•Damian pinches the bridge of his nose.
“I have called you ‘my love’ repeatedly.”
“I thought you were being poetic.”
Long silence.
Then:
“…Father was correct. You are catastrophically oblivious.”
since you seemed to enjoy it quite much last time, i recorded another edge for you 🩷 imagine me naked, with a plug in my ass, edging with a vibe on my clit on low. it took forever to reach that edge, and when i did, it was so hard to pull the toy away 🥺🩷
couple interviews were common among proheroes and their non-hero spouses for long before prohero!katsuki and you got together, so it was a given that you two would share time in the spotlight on a pink lovechair, your interviewer sat on a matching armchair in front of you.
side by side and holding hands, they asked you how you two met. you two turned to look at each other, before katsuki blinked at you with red eyes, as if inviting you to answer. “well, we ran into each other, like a lot,” you laughed at the memory, “i’d always like- absentmindedly find myself looking at him. i mean, he’s attractive so he caught my interest, but it wasn’t until he asked to walk me home late at night that we started dating.”
he nodded, tilting his head and letting it rest in his free-hand, “yeah.” he trailed off and seemed lost in thought for a moment.
because you didn’t know that it was only a partial truth. katsuki noticed you far earlier than you seemed to notice him.
how he fixed his hair before he walked beside you, lingering a second longer than normal (the man walks fast!) to check if you had a ring on your finger, almost crossing the street without looking and getting hit just to keep his eyes on you for a second longer.
you also didn’t remember, or tried your best to forget, his pathetic attempts to get your attention without words.
a loud slam of his umbrella to get you to look his way. opening manga, the only thing he had in hand, and resting his leg on the wall to look mysterious. trying his best to get recognized in front of you so he’d look more famous.
and the one time, the time he looked like shit after picking up an extra patrol because he owed kirishima a favor, with dark circles and a look in his eyes that could kill, you finally seemed to notice him, and looked up into those same eyes.
he felt all the sleep get instantly replaced by pure adrenaline, a red flush filling his face and spreading to his ears, as his mouth spoke before his mind could catch up, “thank you.”
he still remembers the feeling now, his soul leaving his body at the embarrassment, as he sucks in his breath and looks back at you.
Warnings: Afab!reader, not gender neutral, superior/subordinate dynamic, graphic violence, dead bodies, sex around dead bodies, sadomasochism, rough sex, kissing, choking, spitting in mouth, tit slapping, piv, unprotected sex, creampie
A/N: Wow. I can't believe I actually managed to finish this. I started writing it immediately after his character trailer dropped and its now a few days into his banner being out, but! Better late than never. Please enjoy! 😭
⭐
Playing the role of damsel in distress is not for the faint of heart, you were very quickly coming to learn.
Even less so when it was at the request — no, the behest of the fifth company’s vice-captain.
‘You’re the only one I can trust to do this,’ he’d said, days ago in the Favonious Keep, as reasonable as you’d ever seen him. Sane and in his right mind. Or something like it, at least. ‘I need someone who’s familiar enough with the way I do things to know when it’s time to get out of my way and keep their head down. Sadly that criteria makes for a very short list.’
‘But,’ you’d tried to implore him. ‘Why me? Surely there must be someone else that could do the job just as well, if not better.’
‘Ah, come on. Don’t sell yourself so short. I picked you for a reason, you know.’
‘Which is?’ You pressed, helplessly floundering.
‘Heh. That’s easy. You look just like someone who’d go and get themselves caught by the enemy.’ He’d said with a delighted little giggle for good measure, as if the thought tickled him to no end. ‘They won’t stop to question how they managed to capture you, and then they’ll think they’re sitting nice and pretty with a hostage they can use for leverage. Just imagine the looks on their faces when they realize I don't plan on negotiating to get you back.’
You’d pictured it with him and promptly decided you didn’t like it. Not one bit. If you somehow survived this ordeal you were sure to end up with lifelong nightmares that would haunt you well into the future, grinning fiends lurking around every corner of your subconscious with the sharp glint of a knife in hand. It was too much to ask someone to shoulder this responsibility.
But you’d had little to no choice in the matter, partially because he was your superior and partially because you were scared shitless of vice-captain Lohen. He was not somebody you wanted to cross if you could help it. In that sense you counted yourself incredibly lucky to have found yourself standing behind him at the front lines rather than on the opposing side, and you planned to keep it that way.
And now, now you were almost starting to wish you’d never joined the Knights of Favonius in the first place so that you wouldn’t have had to deal with any of it. Leading the simple, uncomplicated life of a civilian sounded real nice right about now.
“Hey, stop squirming! Stupid bitch. Don’t make me tell you again.”
Grimacing at that loudly barked command as much as the bedraggled man’s hot breath on your face, you whimper a quiet sound of apology. Your reaction wasn’t even close to being feigned which made it that much more believable, and likely why Lohen had gone out of his way to pick you from the bunch. Not quite a wide eyed, guileless new recruit but not a jaded senior officer either. You were something in between, still malleable to his machinations and just gullible enough to go along with this hairbrained scheme.
“S - sorry,” you murmur, nearly out of breath from trying to keep up with the treasure hoarder dragging you along by the scruff of the neck. His hand was a heavy weight on your body, rough and grimy with dirt. If he would just slow down a little bit.
“Zip it! We’re almost there. And boy, have I got a surprise for you later.”
You could only imagine. You’d already caught him eyeing up the swell of your tits underneath the plate armor across your chest more than once, gauging his interest and your usefulness to him.
And if that wasn’t damning enough in and of itself, he now makes a show of roughly clearing his throat as he reaches down with the other hand to give himself a brief, deliberately pointed squeeze through the front of his pants. Bile promptly rises in the back of your throat, threatening to expunge everything in your stomach in a violent projection, but you just barely manage to keep it held at bay.
Blessed Anemo Archon! You sorely hoped Lohen was somewhere close by like he’d said he would be.
Much to your relief, though, the slimy bastard is quick to drop his hand, and you soon see why when he drags you around a final outcropping of rock. Directly in front of you, dug right into the side of the cliff face, sits a cave. Entirely benign and unobtrusive. There are no recognizable signs that this is anything more than a naturally formed crevice that may have been used as a wolf den at one point.
You understand, then, why Lohen had run into so much trouble trying to find their hideout on his own. It was so deeply nestled within the narrow twists and turns of Brightcrown Canyon that it was probably difficult to find even if you had some idea where to look, nearly impossible if you didn’t.
Muttering something that sounds like ‘watch your head’, the man pulls you right up to that entrance and shoves you forward in a stooped position. Looking straight into the black abyss like that, unable to tell what might be staring back, strikes an old, ancient nerve in you, making it suddenly hard to draw a full breath. Panic grips you but you don’t get the chance to protest. One moment you’re standing in the open air hills of Mondstadt’s craggy western landscape and the next you’re being shoved into total darkness.
The oxygen is immediately stifling and you gasp, unable to tell which way is even up anymore. Effectively blind, you take another stumbling step only to nearly break your ankle when it rolls on a loose rock. Half collapsing against the interior wall, you wheeze and try to force your eyesight to adjust to the pitch black but it’s no use. That blasted oaf was blocking out any of the light trying to come in from the entrance!
“Alright, alright. Go on then. Straight down.” He prods and cajoles, coming up behind you. “There’s nowhere else for you to go, so you may as well just get on with it. I’m not carrying ya’.”
Sniffing rather indignantly at that, you carefully move to straighten up as much as the low ceiling will allow. Even at your height you’re forced to hunch or risk knocking yourself out on a low hanging dip of the rock, so you could only imagine how back breaking this must be for the much taller treasure hoarder. He seems to be well acquainted with this tunnel though, his shuffling footsteps sure at your heels while yours were halting, uncertain.
But he’d told you the truth about forward being the only way to go and, using the wall to guide you, you soon find yourself running smack dab into an old wooden door. Literally.
“Yeow!”
The guy behind you bursts out laughing, his voice booming and echoing off the tight interior of the cave. You seethe, in hurt as much as anger, while your fingers positively itch for the sword you didn’t have strapped at your waist anymore. The one smart thing he’d done was disarm you when he so rudely accosted you off of the supply route further down at the base of the mountains, but you would be taking it back from him soon enough. Hopefully.
As long as Lohen kept up his end of the bargain this shouldn’t take long at all. In and out. Easy.
Or so he’d said.
“What a dumb broad.” The treasure hoarder finally grumbles as he reaches around you to feel for a door handle that must be there.
Finding it, he gives the door a hard shove and swings it open into an unexpectedly spacious chamber. You know this because the rough cut room is dotted with blazing torches that absolutely sear your retinas after being submerged in total darkness. But when the starbursts in your eyes slowly begin to clear, you instantly recognize it for what it is. A subterranean monument from the old civilization, or perhaps even older than that. A shrine of some sort, to worship a god or a king. Maybe both. It must have gotten buried in a landslide at some point, making it completely undetectable from the outside. You could only guess they’d found it by pure chance.
In the same moment that this thought flits through your mind, you realize that the two of you are very much not alone.
“That you, Jan? What’d you bring us today?”
“Looks like a juicy, succulent pig to me.”
The handful of men at the bottom of the crumbling set of wooden stairs — hardly more than a glorified ladder, if you were being honest — absolutely whoop it up at your expense, cackling amongst themselves like hyenas. Your face grows uncomfortably warm with the sting of humiliation but you focus on doing a quick head count instead of giving them the reaction they wanted.
Seven all together if you counted the bozo behind you. That wasn’t too terrible. You’d seen Lohen take down worse than the likes of them with even greater odds stacked against him. Surely he wouldn’t have any problem at all dealing with them.
Except this was an awfully tight space to be fighting in, now that you were really looking at it.
And oh, was that a musket you saw leaning against the far wall behind the ratty looking group?
You suddenly have some second, third and even fourth thoughts about this, but before you can try to backpedal the one evidently called Jan gives you a hard nudge towards the stairs (ladder). The urge to whip around and slam your fist into his nose almost gets the better of you until vice-captain Lohen’s earlier words materialize out of your memory like a vengeful specter rearing its ugly head.
‘You look just like someone who’d go and get themselves caught by the enemy.’
Right. A damsel in distress. Someone who was easily captured and wouldn’t put up much of a fight, if any. And you’d already come this far.
Clammy from nerves and sweat, you reluctantly move to shimmy down the groaning steps (ladder) to stand on the barren ground. The small congregation of men wastes no time inching towards you, clearly interested in this new plaything their friend has brought back to the hideout. Like a pack of dogs with a helpless rabbit. You try not to pay them much mind though as you take quick stock of these new surroundings.
They’d made quite the cozy little base for themselves here. The stone carved monument was still partially covered in heavy rocksheet, leaving only the bottom half visible, but the rest of the space had been cleared out and thoroughly claimed. Moth eaten cots dotted the various corners to indicate where individual ownership had been established with what you guessed was a shared common area smack dab in the middle of it all. There’s a low fire burning under a simmering pot near the center, and when you curiously follow the rising smoke up you discover a thick crack in the ceiling. It was hard to say where it might lead but it must connect back up to the surface eventually given the subtle draft you can just make out, wafting against your skin. It looked like the way back through the tunnel you’d just come in from really was the only feasible exit or entrance.
Not good. Even for as fiercely reckless as Lohen was, these were not favorable conditions for a fight. This manmade dugout was not only littered with a whole litany of unnecessary obstructions — a card table, wooden chairs, a laundry line from which hung someone’s old patched up pants, a tin wash basin, a straw training dummy that had clearly seen better days — but the treasure hoarders also had the home advantage here. This probably wasn’t going to be easy for him.
“Hey, you listening or what?”
That gruffly asked question brings your attention back around with a snap. A mild pang of gut wrenching surprise curls through your body when you realize that they’ve got you surrounded now, practically frothing at the mouth and smacking their chops. Apparently they didn’t know how to tell when a girl wasn’t interested.
“Sorry, what did you say?”
Clicking his tongue in annoyance, one of the men reaches out to rudely flick at the hem of your skirt, flashing a greater strip of your thighs to your attentively watching audience. You squeak a small sound of alarm and quickly shove the material back down, hoping to maintain at least some of your remaining dignity.
“Don’t be like that.” The handsy one grins, obviously finding humor in it. “We just wanted to know if you’d like to have some fun with us or not. Seems to me a pretty young thing like you might appreciate getting her rocks off a bit. At least while we have nothing better to do with our time anyway.”
Oh, you could think of about twenty other, far more important things you’d rather be doing right now instead of this.
“As much as I appreciate the offer - -“
One of the others, this one with a jagged scar bisecting half of his cheek to leave the skin partially sunken and pinched, reaches out to rather unceremoniously grab a handful of your ass. You yelp and whirl around, backing up a step to put some much needed distance between you and him. But that just sends you tripping into the first guy who eagerly winds his arms around you like it had been an open invitation for him to do so.
Your pulse jackhammers out of control. It wasn’t difficult to imagine them escalating things until a fight broke out over you, ripping you to shreds in the process, and you valiantly squirm in his hold in an attempt to get free.
“H - hey! Stop that!”
“Sorry, baby, but we’re not offering.” He coos against the side of your head while his fingers sink deep into the cushiony love handles at your waist. “I’m afraid that wasn’t a question so much as it was … a friendly suggestion, you could say.”
“You can have her when I’m finished.” The nearly forgotten Jan announces as he steps into the ravenous circle they’ve formed around you. “I found her so I get priority. Even had to go to the trouble of wrestling her useless little toothpick away to get her to cooperate so I’d say I’ve more than earned it.”
You watch, teeth gnashing, as he slides your confiscated sword out of his belt and tosses it off to the side with a dull thunk in the long dead grass. He’d come to regret that in due time if you had anything to say about it.
The man holding you to the front of him just shrugs though. “Eh, she’s got more than one hole, doesn’t she? I don’t see any reason why we can’t all share.”
“Theo.” Jan clenches his fists tight, growling. “Don’t be such a selfish prick. You know how we operate. Whoever brings it back gets to keep it unless otherwise stated. She’s mine.”
“Is that so? I don’t think I see your name written anywhere.”
Jan’s mouth flies open to really lay into the other man now, but a different one reaches for you instead. “Ah, give it a rest you two! At least take her damn clothes off while you’re bickering amongst yourselves!”
Your iron chest plate is ruthlessly snagged, nearly pulling you right up off your feet when he gives it a vicious tug. But the straps are reinforced leather, some of the best Mondstadt has to offer, and they barely even budge. All he succeeds in doing is bruising your ribs and shoulderblades.
A low, bestial snarl slips out of him seconds before he lunges at you with both hands poised as if to tear into a crabs shell and rip it apart at the seams. You have only a split second to realize what he planned to do to your meager armor, reeling back in terror. Unfortunately everything quickly devolves into chaos after that.
In your panicked jerking you must slam the back of your head into the face that’s directly behind you, because he lets loose a startled, utterly enraged snarl. Theo’s hands jolt where they rest on your body, aggressively tightening as he pivots to throw you down on the ground and slam the air out of you in the process. The one with the facial scar tries to follow after you but Jan lurches to grab hold of his massive shoulders to pull him off. Everyone is shouting, stomping, shoving at each other. You fearfully glance up from your spot underneath them, trying desperately to figure out how you were going to get out of this mess. Your sword was sat almost a full yard from where you were. Forgotten, but not even close to being in arms reach.
You’ve just started to brace yourself to make a desperate bid for it when someone descends upon you like a vulture claiming a carcass. A wholly undignified squawk bursts out of you as you’re forced over onto your back, getting a good look at the blood that gushes out of Theo’s clearly broken nose, and you gasp at the sight. The idea that you’d rammed him that hard hadn’t so much as crossed your mind, but it was already too late for apologies. He’s grabbing for the vulnerable line of your unprotected neck with pure malice flashing in his eyes before you can even get your arms up.
And that’s when vice-captain Lohen makes his grand appearance.
The crappy door to the rudely formed room flies open so hard that it doesn’t just slam against the wall. It flies right off the makeshift hinges to go crashing to the ground in a heap of shattered, splintered pieces. That manages to startle everyone into momentary stillness, seven gaping faces turned up towards the entryway. Eight, if you included yourself.
Staring in horrified, transfixed wonder, you track the blur of motion that can only be Lohen as he bypasses the stairs (ladder) completely, preferring to drop straight down to ground level instead. The whipping tail of his half-cape is the only thing you truly make out in the rush, but you’d recognize it anywhere. You’d watched that same ominous flicker lead you straight into enemy lines more than you could count.
But you hadn’t grasped just how truly frightening it was to be standing right in the middle of his oncoming war path like this. Even knowing you were on the same side as him isn’t nearly enough to suppress the frightened chill that washes over you when you watch him land in a crouch, seamlessly straighten up, and whip a dagger from his hand all in the same fluid motion.
For a horrible split second you have no idea what he was even aiming at.
And then the man on top of you jerks to the side, carried by the momentum of the blade slamming into his shoulder. He cries out, fumbling in a disoriented clamor to recover from the blow as his boots frantically kick at the ground.
Which is precisely when all hell breaks loose.
With the destructive suddenness of a massive, churning wave smashing over the shoreline, everyone is moving. Someone tries to rush the vice-captain in a barrage of fists. Another one tries to go for the musket you’d spotted earlier. At some point the simmering pot is knocked over, crashing to the floor and sizzling. The stink of something burning quickly dominates the air.
You impulsively lurch into motion, scrambling to reach your sword as one of the men shouts, “drop your weapons, we have one of your knights!”
But Lohen simply doesn’t care.
The man who’d foolishly tried to take him head on goes down like a sack of bricks. It happens so fast that you’re not even quite sure what had felled him where he’d stood, but there was no mistaking the rattling, wet wheeze the body makes on the ground. He was done for.
One of the other treasure hoarders almost goes flying face first into the dirt when he trips right over you in his mad dash for the shattered doorway. It’s a futile endeavor, though, and you glance up just in time to see Lohen course correct his trajectory, veering straight towards the attempted escapee.
His polearm appears suddenly in his hand as if it had materialized there, like it was a natural extension of his arm that simply belonged to him as much as his fingers do. The upper half of his svelte body twists, right shoulder pulling back, back, back. Then he throws it, leaning the entirety of his weight into the effort, and the spear zips through the air almost too fast to keep track of.
Thunk!
A heart wrenching shriek immediately follows that fleshy, potato-sack sound, drawing your shellshocked attention towards the man now sitting awkwardly splayed out on the cave floor. With Lohen’s spear sticking straight up out of his gut. All it takes is that one single look for you to know it had pierced him straight through and he was as good as pinned there now. Just like the butterflies and other specimens Sucrose had once shown you from her collection.
You come very close to regurgitating every last bit of your stomach contents with that thought.
Someone screams. “What the fuck!?”
Struggling to focus on anything other than the dying man lying some few feet away from where you were crouched, you crane your head back around to look for your sword. Still right where you’d last seen it, miraculously. You suck in a deep breath and start to crawl for it, eager to get your hands on something — anything that you could use to defend yourself with.
You don’t quite make it though, letting out a fresh squawk of rising panic when someone frantically fumbles to grab hold of you. Those groping fingers quickly find purchase under the filigreed edges of your chestplate and they yank, hauling you upright just in time to see Lohen on the opposite side of the room calmly turn towards you.
“Soldier.” He says by way of greeting, perfectly at ease despite all of the chaos. No, that wasn’t an accurate assessment at all. He was having the time of his life right now.
“V - vice-captain.”
“Are you crazy or something! What the fuck is wrong with you? Huh!” Theo bellows behind you, almost shattering your eardrum in the process. You had half a mind to chide him for interrupting this very touching reunion between you and your superior, but you quickly abandon the urge to be snarky when he lifts a trembling blade up to your throat. “We’ve got one of your own here, you stupid bastard! Don’t you care what happens to her? You came to get her back, didn’t you?”
“Wellll,” playfully drawing that one word out, Lohen allows his gaze to wander away from you to shiftily take in everything else going on around him.
He’d already killed two. Just five more to go. The one back against the far wall was still fumbling to get the firearm locked and loaded, nearly dropping the gun in his rush. Another was picking up an old, half rusted axe.
“I wouldn’t go so far as to say I don’t want her back, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to start making deals with the likes of you just to accomplish that. Sorry, soldier. I hope you won’t hold it against me.”
You swallow so hard you nearly gag. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Heh. Good girl ~”
“Then I’ll just kill her and get it over with! Is that what you want? I didn’t take the Knights of Favonius for such a heartless lot!” The man behind you tries again, growing increasingly more sporadic as he waves his hunting knife around in the air. He gets a little too close to your face more times than you feel comfortable with, and you helplessly peer past him to look towards the vice-captain for help.
For the span of a single heartbeat, your eyes meet his as if you were the only two people in the room, some silent yet meaningful communication passing between you and him. You’re unsure what, exactly, is being conveyed, but luckily he seems to get the message loud and clear.
“Better make sure you duck, sweetheart.” Lohen says at length, the intonation a sultry purr. “It would be such a shame if that pretty little head of yours were to find itself removed from your shoulders, you know.”
Somehow, despite everything else going on around you, you still find the grace to blush. Pretty?
He doesn’t give you a chance to really question it, though, and you jolt when he slips into an all too familiar position. Braced to pounce, to leap, to hurl himself headlong at his enemies. The limber twist of his upper body quickly clues you in that he was about to throw something else, and the way he puts his whole center mass into it would seem to suggest he was playing for keeps this time. This was going to be a devastating blow, even more so than the last one.
You have only a split second to make the decision.
The musket abruptly goes off with a deafening bang, the flash from the muzzle blinding you.
Luckily you don’t really need to see as you throw your weight forward with such force that Theo stumbles behind you, struggling to maintain his hold with an injured shoulder. Planning to use you as a human shield, if you had to guess.
But in lurching after you to reestablish the press of your body against his, he just succeeds in positioning himself directly in Lohen’s sights.
Thwunk!
Another mindless animal shriek.
The sudden rush of warm, wet fluid that immediately follows, washing over the side of your face, has you jerking your neck around in search of the source. For a horrible split second you’re convinced that it was your blood spraying out.
It’s not, though. It was coming from Theo’s ruined eyeball in a pulsing rush of viscera and jelly-like vitreous, oozing out around the shaft of the arrow embedded deep within the membrane.
Much too late to do you any good, you realize what just happened. The vice-captain must have shot him with the miniature crossbow strapped to his wrist, the motion of throwing something a mere feint. He easily could have missed and hit you instead though. What a cocky move. But you wisely keep that thought to yourself as you watch the man spasm, convulse, and finally let his grasping hands fall away when he staggers back a disoriented step. Judging by the rapidly deteriorating motor functions you could only assume that the arrowhead had sunk in deep enough to pierce his brain.
Quickly turning from the gore, you glance up just in time to see Lohen darting towards the one with the musket. Pivoting on your heel, you run in the opposite direction with your sights set on your sword.
“You!” Jan roars somewhere behind you, furious. “It was a trap! You led him here!”
You can sense someone stomping after you, feel the shift in the air when hands reach out to grab and to twist, to rip. But you’re finally close enough now and you dive for the blade, tumbling head over heels before sliding across the dirt with the scabbard clutched in a painful death grip.
With one smooth motion and a satisfying shreeee you draw your sword, brandishing it in front of you to stop Jan’s aggressive approach in its tracks.
“No.” You hiss up at him from your spot crouched on the ground. “You led him here all on your own. No one made you abduct me off of the road! That was all you, big guy, and now you’re going to reap what you’ve sewn.”
Jan’s face twists up in pure, unfiltered rage as he glares down at you, his hands balled in shaking fists. Another dying shriek rises up somewhere behind him, but you keep your attention locked on the slimy bastard. You trusted Lohen to take care of this mess on his own, just like he’d said he would. In fact, you trust him implicitly. You’d already wagered this bet on him with your very life on the line, and now that gamble was paying off.
Slowly rising to your feet, you nudge the tip of your sword at the center of Jan’s chest, threatening to run him through if he doesn’t cooperate. “Hands up. Keep them where I can see.”
He seems to think about it, no doubt weighing his odds of taking you, but the unmistakable crack! of a limb snapping on the opposite side of the cave seems to quickly make up his mind for him. Issuing some awful hacking sound in the back of his throat, he spits a vulgar wad on the ground and lifts his arms.
“Goddamned minx. You’re feistier than you look.”
You can’t help the vicious smile that cuts across your mouth at that. “Why do you think the vice-captain chose me to be his bait?”
Jan barks a mirthless laugh at your audacity, but the sound is quickly swallowed up by another series of snap, crackle, pops as more arms are broken, shoulders dislocated, and at least one neck is mercilessly wrenched into a decapitated lull, given the odd little, lifeless groan that quickly follows the loud crack. The treasure hoarder standing before you goes still as granite, his face noticeably paling at the continuing sounds of struggle and devastation. You feel marginally queasy yourself, yet you stand tall and firm. As was your duty.
But the noise quickly starts to lull as the remaining treasure hoarders are promptly dispatched, and you flick your gaze past Jan in search of your vice-captain. You find him skulking into a tent from which came the sound of hysterical, mindless sniveling. Someone who had tried to hide but was much too scared, too traumatized by the noises he heard coming from outside the imagined safety of his refuge to stifle the breathless sobs. Even without being able to see him, you can tell that the panic was wracking his body in great big, heaving shudders, hyperventilating quicker when the footsteps grow closer to his hiding spot.
You almost feel bad for him, even though you knew he would not have harbored any similar sympathy for you if the roles had been reversed, and you wrench your eyes away from the terrible sight so you won’t have to watch.
A violent rustle of movement immediately starts up, the ensuing struggle making the tent shake from the inside. The old tarp trembles with frantic abandon as the gasping wails rise in pitch, begging, pleading for mercy. Lohen says nothing, though, only the faintest sound of his thready, tittering laughter curling through the stagnant air of the cave like an insidious waft of perfume. Invisible to the naked eye and yet unmistakable at the same time. Something that would stick with you long after you'd left this place.
For an uncomfortable stretch of moments you and Jan just stare at one another while his friend — or, at least, his co-conspirator — was unmistakably being slaughtered. You have no way of knowing what exactly Lohen does to finally put him out of his misery but, at last, the screams fade to resounding silence with a single, wheezing sigh.
A minute later, he emerges from the still tent.
You glance his way again and nearly have to do a double take. He looked like a demon straight out of a nightmare, covered in a congealing wash of blood so dark it was of the deepest, blackest mahogany. And he was grinning from ear to ear like the smile had been carved out of his face with a slashing, sharply serrated blade. You’d never seen anything like it before.
But, to be fair, you were usually standing some distance behind him, not directly in his line of sight like this.
Reminding yourself that the two of you were playing for the same team, you do your best to offer up a welcoming smile as he crosses the cave floor to join you and Jan, who suddenly seemed much less sure of himself now.
“Nice work, vice-captain! We did it. Your plan worked.” You announce with a hopeful, upward lilt that you prayed wouldn’t betray your fear. “Sorry I couldn’t be of more help, but at least I was able to stop this one from getting in your way. We can take him back to headquarters and - -“
Stepping right up behind the defenseless man, Lohen throws his arms up around his neck and swipes his right hand across the vulnerable line of Jan’s throat. A deluge of blood, so fresh it still looked bright red, sprays out of the fleshy, gaping laceration to absolutely drench you in it.
You just stand there, staring in slackjawed disbelief while Jan gurgles some unseemly, horribly thick sound, jerking frantically in place now as his hands fly up to his slit jugular. Fingers grasping, squeezing, desperately trying to stem the flow. But it’s no use. That crimson tide just keeps spurting out around his hands, dripping through his fingers.
He can’t breathe, you dully realize, when his eyes wildly start to roll back in his head, mouth wide and gaping like a beached fish. Even when he raggedly sucks in big, gulping breaths that should have filled his lungs straight to capacity he just continues to suffocate right before your very eyes, choking on his own blood.
Finally, Lohen releases him with a showman’s flourish, clearly quite satisfied with the way things have turned out. But you impulsively toss your sword aside and follow him down when he instantly collapses in an awkward splay of limbs. The startings of Jan’s death throes have him convulsing uncontrollably even as you try to gather him to you but this, too, is no use. He’s gone before you can even fully settle there on your knees and you’re just left stupidly holding a fast cooling corpse in your lap.
All you can do is sit there for a terribly long moment, stunned into inaction. There was blood everywhere. Carnage everywhere. And you had nothing to show for it now.
You couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe that this was what all of your bravery and hard work had amounted to. A pile of the broken, mangled dead surrounding you every which way you looked. It was inconceivable. You’d wanted to make him pay for the way he’d treated you, sure, but … not like this.
You’d had the situation under control, dammit. He was cooperating. Unarmed.
“Aww, come on, princess. What’s wrong? Why the long face, huh?”
You give a great start at the sound of Lohen’s voice, sickly sweet and smooth as velvet, snapping your head up to find him crouched in front of you, just on the other side of Jan’s body. Balanced on his toes, elbows braced against the bends of his knees, he tips his head to one side almost inquisitively. Not at all unlike a curious predator sizing up his next kill.
The knife dangling from his right hand still drips blood onto the dirt underneath him to the sound of a dull little plap. plap. plap.
“We took care of the problem, didn’t we?” He goes on, evidently perfectly content within this charnel house he’s made of the cave. “This particular band of fools won’t be bothering anyone else thanks to us. You should be happy about that. It’s what we set out to do, after all. Isn’t it?”
He pauses then. Looks you over more closely.
And a small knit of confusion slowly forms between his brows. “Are you sad that I killed him?”
You jolt as if he’d electrocuted you with the static touch of a phantom hand. Abruptly coming back to your senses, you hurry to shove the fresh corpse away from you in plain revulsion before swiping your hands over your stained skirt to rid them of filth. Not that it does you much good.
“No. No, of course not.”
“Well, that’s good to hear. Seriously, what do you think he and his buddies planned to do with you? It wasn’t going to be anything nice, I can tell you that much. And they wouldn’t have shed any tears over it if you were the one lying here, dead as a dormouse, so don’t waste any of yours on the likes of these crooks. But that still begs the question, doesn’t it? Why does it seem like you’re upset with me then?”
The first time you attempt to speak nothing comes out, not even a peep. You have to work to swallow around what feels very much like a boulder lodged in your constricting throat before you can try again.
“That’s all true, of course. But,” you helplessly croak. “Shouldn’t we have taken him back to the keep? For questioning, at least, or … or trial, or something? There could be more of them that we don’t know about.”
“I’m afraid that’s not my job, sweetheart. And neither is it yours. You’re a member of the ranged company, not the sitting council of the church. Don’t forget that.”
That very nearly succeeds in leaving you gobsmacked. “What do you think that makes you, Lohen? You’re our … vice-captain.”
A not entirely mirthless laugh slips out of him. “Do you really need to ask? I think you know exactly what I am. You’ve stood side by side with me on plenty a battlefield now, haven’t you?”
Pausing, Lohen gives the sharp knife in his hand a casual flip to make it somersault through the air. Up and then straight back down into his waiting hand, where he foolishly catches it by the pointy end. Not exactly smart, in your estimation, but thankfully he doesn’t slice a finger off with that cute little trick of his. Somehow you got the sense that that would’ve just sent you straight off the deep end.
“Oh, but don’t look at me like that, honeybun. You know perfectly well what the answer is. Even if I generally do my level best to keep this side of me locked up tight behind closed doors where polite society won’t have to see it, there’s still no mistaking what I am. Is there? The executioner’s blade of the Knights of Favonius. The Grandmaster’s attack dog. And glad for it, I might add.”
Giving you a cheeky little grin, he seamlessly flips the knife again. But this time he catches it properly by the handle before reaching out to calmly press the bloodstained razor’s edge across your throat.
The image of Jan’s jugular splitting open in one clean slice flashes through your mind, every bit as horrible as it was the first time. Your stomach sickeningly roils in reply, once again threatening to send every last bit of frothing foam flying from your mouth, and yet you just can’t seem to bring yourself to cower or back down.
Rather, you stand firm and call his bluff. Barely even flinching at the press of cool, deadly metal against your neck, which seems to earn you some small increase in his estimation of you, given the way his brows animatedly lift in response.
“You’re not scared? Not even a little bit?”
“I’m terrified, actually.” You murmur, trying to keep your throat as still as possible. “It’s just … if I really am your honeybun, as you like to say, then I don’t imagine you would kill me like this. That means one of these things must not be true. Which is it, vice-captain?”
“Hah! That’s a good answer. I like it. In fact, I like it a lot! Oooh, and how very right you are!” Cackling that raspy, shuddering laugh, Lohen withdraws his weapon and gives it a quick magician’s flick to make it disappear down the sleeve of his coat. Poof. Gone. Just like magic.
He even lifts his hands in the air as if to show you he isn’t armed now, even though you know that to be a load of shit, but his smile only grows when you simply refuse to be cowed by him.
“Hehehe. Yes, yes, that’s exactly it. I won’t kill you. Not like this. You’re better than that, aren’t you, princess? You deserve more than a measly little switchblade sticking out of your throat. No, you need something bigger. Better. Bleeding out here on the floor just doesn’t really suit you, does it?”
At your stilted nod, Lohen reaches across the short space again. But this time he curls the palm of his hand over your cheek to cradle it, smearing the blood that was already there and adding more to the mess with his glove. The unexpected tenderness in that gesture manages to surprise you more than it would have if he’d simply slapped you across the face, and you find yourself holding the air in your lungs while he looks you over. If you didn’t know any better, you might have thought he was checking you for injuries but that’s not quite it.
He also isn’t truly being aggressive with you either, as strange as that sounds even in your own mind. Not really, anyway. His sporadic, almost twitchy demeanor would seem to suggest otherwise but, as you look at him looking at you, a vague epiphany of understanding starts to dawn. He really wasn’t going to kill you. You now knew that for a fact.
Not because he couldn’t or wouldn’t do it, but because he was having way too much fun to end the game so soon.
And that’s exactly what it was staring back at you. Excitement. The eager, almost boyish thrill of a good time had and the hope for many more to come. He’d had a blast today. Here. With you. Fighting in such tight, cramped quarters, breaking bones, running people through with his spear. And now teasing you like this, taunting you in pursuit of the reaction he was looking for. It’s all just good, harmless fun from his perspective.
Of course he isn’t going to hurt you.
He wanted to keep playing with you.
That realization smacks you across the face like a wet rag and you shudder, vibrating so fiercely there on the floor with him that you feel like you just might slip your mortal coil all together. This situation was nearly impossible to wrap your head around. It’s so ass backwards and twisted, but when your mouth warbles open — to say what, you do not know — Lohen doesn’t even hesitate to seize the opportunity you’ve just given him.
Decisively swooping in like a diving bird of prey, he seals his mouth over yours with enough force, enough driving intensity, to make your teeth clack together. A startled yelp bursts from your throat but he’s quick to swallow it up, chasing after you when you try to pull away. All you want is a chance to recover from that blow, just to take a second to breathe, and he simply doesn’t let you.
You groan against him, weak and faltering, as the hot, wet warmth of his mouth seems to overwhelm you in the blink of an eye. The taste of him, the smell of him, the stench of blood and sweat, and guts. It’s all too much. You feel sick. You’re too hot.
There’s something musky right under the surface as well, something that you would all too readily attribute to the questionable bathing habits of the treasure hoarders, but which you can’t quite convince yourself wasn’t him. The stink of testosterone, you think. Undeniably masculine and yet cloying, further betraying his arousal and sealing your fate all in one fell swoop. It does something irreversible to your brain, makes your protests die out on your tongue.
Sighing a heated sound through his nose when he feels you start to relent, Lohen tips his head to deepen the kiss. Mouthing at you so insistently, so hungrily, that it feels like he’s trying to work out how he can swallow you whole. That probably would have been rather alarming in just about any other situation, with just about any other man, but it only seems to pull you further under his intoxicating spell.
Especially when he nips at your bottom lip where he briefly latches on, worrying the delicate flesh between his teeth for a prolonged moment. You whimper into his mouth as he tugs, slightly stretching the pliant skin before letting it snap back into place. Your lips already feel raw and kiss-swollen but he only gives you a mere second of reprieve, and then he’s right back on top of you again.
This time, however, when he spears his tongue up at the now tender center of your lips you can’t quite manage to hold your line of defense. He invades your mouth in a sudden rush of spongy flesh and spit, and you can even taste the distant twinge of iron where he must have broken the skin.
Gasping around the intrusion, you blindly reach up to grab ahold of his narrow shoulders, fitfully yanking and pulling at him. But, still, he doesn’t stop. He just rewards you for your efforts by simply kissing you even harder. Deeper. Almost frenzied.
Your head positively swims with the delirious thought that he’d probably crawl right inside of you if only he could. But instead he has to make do with merely plunging his tongue towards the far back of your throat, licking at the inside of your mouth in a way that was somehow sensual and disconcerting in equal measure. It feels like he’s flicking directly at your tonsils and you gag on the sensation, shoving at him with renewed insistence now.
When that doesn’t work either, when he just continues to meet every single push and pull you give him, tit for tat, you drag your hands higher to viciously yank at the back of his hair. Your valiant attempts to dislodge him just seem to get Lohen even more excited, however, and he rattles off a low, faltering moan at the tug to his scalp.
This really was getting you nowhere fast. You’d have to try a different approach, something he wouldn’t like.
Unfortunately you couldn’t even begin to guess at what that might be.
And you don’t get the chance to puzzle it out, either, because the hand that had once so tenderly cradled your cheek now slides back to grab a biting fistful of your hair. His fingers tightly close around the root, giving his wrist a sharp twist for good measure. Then he’s yanking your neck back with a sharp snap that mercilessly tears your lips from his.
Crying out at the loss, you owlishly blink up at the ceiling through the rising sting of tears. It’s a staggering relief to finally be able to pull in a big, gasping mouthful of fresh air again, even for being short-lived as it is. But he’s as relentless as ever and he quickly leans right back up into your space where he drags the flat of his tongue over the pounding pulse in your throat. The sensation has you trembling against him while Lohen gradually works his way lower, inch by inch, until he reaches the base of your neck. Here, his fangs come out to bite, and you mewl a harried little sound at the feeling of teeth scraping so dangerously close to your windpipe.
You hardly trusted him after what you’d just seen him to do to Jan’s.
“Ahh - haaa, vice-captain … is this really the — nngh, right time or place for this?”
“I don’t see why not.” He murmurs around the flesh caught between his teeth, the words thick and muffled with you. “Don’t tell me, mmnhgn, you’ve got stage fright or something? Is that it, honeybun? You don’t like having an audience?”
You grimace at the reminder of what laid scattered around you but he’s already starting to work his way back up, issuing hot, breathy little giggles into your neck while he goes.
“Even putting that aside, I — ooughn. I can’t imagine I look very appealing right now. I’m all … all covered in blood and who knows what else, Lohen.”
He gives his head a slow, disbelieving shake as he nuzzles into the edge of your jaw. Almost reminding you of a cat in that moment. Not a particularly big one, but no less deadly for it.
“Is that seriously supposed to be a bad thing? Ahh, and here I thought you knew me better than that.” Sighing a dreamy, wistful sound, Lohen brings his unoccupied hand up to cradle your opposite cheek, nudging your attention towards him until you have no choice but to look him in the face once more.
And what you see staring back at you makes your gut twist itself into knots. In building, reluctant excitement as much as in dread.
Grinning that serrated edge smile, his eyes flashing with a pulse of inner hellfire, Lohen moves in so close to you that the tip of his nose lightly brushes the end of yours. It probably would have sent you into cardiac arrest to have that look directed right at you in almost any other situation, under any other circumstances. But there in that cave, crouched on the ground with him …
“Gods. You’ve never looked more beautiful than you do right now and you don’t even realize it. Like some kind of work of art or something.”
He gives his lips a slow, savory lick, making you squirm at how much he resembled a half starved wolf with that gesture. “Y - you don’t mean that.”
Slowly shaking his head again, Lohen giggles a low, vibrating sound of amusement. “Oh, you have no idea ~”
With that the vice-captain starts to angle his mouth towards yours again, his eyelashes fluttering slightly in anticipation, but you’re quick to bring one of your hands down. Palm slapping against the front of his throat, you try to shove him back. He just keeps coming though, laughing a vaguely choked off sound when the pressure pushes in on his windpipe. It’s obvious he likes it. The suggestion of losing his ability to breathe, the threat of having his neck grabbed and squeezed, crushed.
Your blithe attempt to stave him off doesn’t so much as slow him down, his mouth crashing into yours in another voracious, insatiable kiss. The hand on your face drops to do the same to your throat, except he only curls his gloved, bloody fingers around the nape, allowing his thumb to do all the work. He finds your jugular with it, lightly caressing over the bobbing line of your neck when you roughly swallow before gradually pressing up on it and sinking the pad into flesh.
“Do it like that.” He murmurs against your lips when you make some small, gurgling sound in the back of your pinched throat. “It’s harder to strangle someone than you might think. Your hand will get tired fast. Push up on the neck instead. You could even lean into it if you were on top and just let your weight do all the work for you. Easy.”
Swaying slightly in his hold, you suck in a rough, shallow breath of air. It’s all you can manage like this, and it’s not nearly enough to fill your aching lungs. “Are you … going to let me be on top?”
“Hah! Maybe. Is that what you want? Would you like that, princess? You wanna’ climb on top and ride me? I’ve seen you on a horse, you know. You’re not too shabby from the looks of it.”
You squeeze your eyes shut against that mental image, hating the deep, low squeeze of your cunt almost as much as you loved the feeling of it. The worst part was that you weren’t even necessarily opposed to this happening. Not the kisses, not the hand gently choking you, not him. You just sorely wished he’d picked a better place to do this at. Preferably someplace with less dead bodies.
Because the vice-captain was certainly handsome and lovely to look at in the same way that a tropical, brightly colored plant from Natlan was pretty. Deadly to the touch. Dripping in poison. Even if you found him plenty attractive (and you did) you knew better than to touch, to invite his venom deep inside of you.
But there you were, not only touching him but drinking from his mouth as if plagued by a great thirst. Readily swallowing his malignant offering down like a condemned prisoner who would eat anything at all just to stay alive.
You’re so caught up in him that you don’t even think to fight it when his tongue rudely invades your mouth again, poking and prodding, exploring the dark nooks and crannies of you as if he could spend all day doing this and little else. He’s in no hurry, no rush to get to the climax. Clearly, Lohen would rather enjoy it. Savor it. Take his time to ensure he extracted every last drop of pleasure from his thrumming bloodlust, the thrill of the hunt indistinguishable from his physical arousal.
And he is aroused, you realize in no uncertain terms when he nudges himself closer to you, practically clamoring over Jan’s forgotten body just to accomplish that.
All but sitting in your lap now, his knees braced on the ground and bracketing yours, Lohen leans into you so heavily that you almost unbalance and tip over. The flush line of his svelte frame against yours is hot and hard, and that’s when you feel it. The weighty press of his rigid cock digging into your hip. His front placket seems to barely contain its enthusiastically twitching length which he not-so-subtly grinds against you to feel the rush of friction where he really wanted it. But still, he does not throw you down and mount you like a wild beast.
He could, if he really wanted to. Easily. Just as easily as those treasure hoarders had manhandled and manipulated you to their machinations, but Lohen isn’t like them. It doesn’t even really make sense in your punchdrunk mind and it probably never would, yet you still knew it to be true.
It wasn’t violent subjugation he sought, nor was it necessarily male-typical, brutish dominance either.
No, he wanted you to meet him head on, as equals. Or something close to it. See who came out the winner fair and square. Just like one of the many impromptu sparring matches he’d subjected you and all the rest of the fifth company to.
Except naked.
And instead of swords, you would be clashing it out with —
The thought alone is almost enough to do you in right then and there, and you tremble at the sensation of his cock digging in at your side, panting into his mouth now.
Blindly fumbling, you readjust the position of the hand on his neck to better mimic his, pushing up towards his jaw. You notice the difference immediately as his hungry invasion of your mouth turns stilted, sloppy. His lips flutter against yours and drop open as if in pure, unfiltered ecstasy before he starts to languidly tip his head back. Like he just couldn’t get enough of the feeling.
“Oooughhn, that’s it, honeybun. Exactly like that.” He hisses, once he has enough room to do so. “You wanna’ choke me out a little bit? Be my guest. Go on.”
Emboldened by this false sense of victory over him, you scramble to gather your resolve as you push on his neck with more force. The pressure tilts his face further back until he’s left groaning softly up at the ceiling, the limited amount of oxygen he’s able to pull in rattling about inside his hitching chest. You stop only long enough to steal a brief glance at his lap where you’re not the least bit surprised to see the aggressive tent in the material. Although they were not nearly as tight as Captain Kaeya’s, his trousers didn’t normally leave much to the imagination. Or so you’d thought prior to this.
Now, however, you can see he’s packing an impressive girth that his slight stature did not belie in the slightest. It’s more than enough to make the fabric bulge out and form a truly enticing imprint around it that lets you see his cock had settled more towards the left when it started to fill out. Your mouth waters at the sight, fingers itching to reach out and grab it. To free it from those polite confines and guide it into your body.
You don’t get the chance to follow through on that impulse though.
“Mmm. See something you like, sweetheart?”
Attention darting up, you look into Lohen’s grinning face again. “M - maybe. I’m not disinterested, at least.”
That earns you another discordant, breathy laugh. “Ooh, don’t start getting shy on me now. It’s okay. You can look aaalll you want. I don’t mind. Really. In fact, I encourage it.”
A befuddled little laugh slips out of you at that proclamation. “A bit full of yourself there eh, vice-captain?”
“Hmm, not without good reason, I’d say.” His devilishly dancing eyes narrow slightly, turning mischievous now as he deliberately rolls his hips into you. “And anyway you’d better admire it while still you can. Something tells me you’re going to be the one full of it soon enough.”
You shudder aggressively in response, unable to catch or to stop it before it’s wracking you straight down to your very core. That hadn’t just been a threat, but a promise too. Neatly wrapped up together with pretty paper and a poison dipped bow on top. And you knew Lohen well enough to know he typically upheld both his promises and his threats with equal intensity.
And he must see that falter in your demeanor because he snickers a devious, knowing sound. It was just the reaction he’d been hoping for, in all likelihood, and you’d given it to him on a silver platter. You’re not particularly surprised by it, though, when he was so adept at recognizing another person's openings and weak spots. And now he knew yours.
A slave to your baser instincts and desires, just as he was slave to his own. A match made in hell, perhaps.
It truly isn’t any wonder, then, that you don’t even attempt to slap him away when Lohen shifts against you, ignoring the hand on his throat when he reaches up to slip long fingers inside the gilt edge of your iron wrought chestplate. Feeling around within the space in between, he quickly locates the reinforced buckle on one of the straps to give it a good solid yank. His efforts are much more successful than the treasure hoarder’s had been, his familiarity with Favonian armor serving him well even though he rarely wore the stuff himself.
You feel that first corded belt start to loosen and your heart rate seems to exponentially swell. Excited and scared, nervous, and maybe just a little bit shy at the prospect of him seeing you naked. But you were also oh so very eager to feel him moving against you without the troublesome impediment of clothes in the way, and you quickly jump into action too. Knowing he wanted it as much as you bolsters your courage by no small margin, giving you the encouraging push you’d needed to let your hands freely roam.
Fingers smoothing a path down his neck, you drag your palm lower, lower and lower still until you can feel his stomach flexing just under your touch. He sucks in a faltering breath, no doubt realizing your intention, but he doesn’t try to stop you. True to his word, even in this. He just tugs at the inner latching of your chestplate with more ferocity until it finally gives to loosen around you with a nearly silent slither of the leather bands.
The metalwork carapace hangs from your shoulders now but he’s quick to snag at it, yanking it up over your head without much aplomb. He tosses it off to the side to the sound of a loud clatter, the strange hue of his eyes flashing an eager glint when he goes up on his knees in front of you. That puts the center of his pants even closer to you and you tip your head back, watching him watching you, as your hand finishes its journey to slide across that faintly twitching bulge on a slow, downward drag.
Stiffening, Lohen sucks in a sharp inhale at the contact andd hips slouch into an almost lazy nudge as if he were offering himself up to you for further perusal. At the same time he reaches up to start yanking at the buttons and clasps, all the hidden little hooks on his outer jacket, the waistcoat underneath. His own straps are undone, the decorative brooch on his chest unpinned and thrown carelessly off to the side with nary a second thought. You’re able to make out the dull clatter of some weapon or another more than once as his layers are quickly discarded, one after the next, but you don’t have much interest in that right now.
You’re far too mesmerized by the weight in his pants to worry about what kind of knives and daggers he might have on his person, feeling another deep, responding clench in your pussy when you grip him through the material. Your mouth starts to water at a rate that was, frankly, alarming. You wouldn’t have expected this from someone of his height and build, although that certainly explained in part where some of his self assured confidence came from.
But you must not be sufficiently meeting the challenge he’s presented you with because, stripped to just the final layer of his royal blue shirt and white slacks now, Lohen rumbles an impatient sound as he reaches down to snag your wrist. Roughly shoving your palm into himself and grinding it in for good measure, he fixes you with a sharp little smile that’s more teeth than anything else.
“There’s no need to be gentle with me, princess. I’m a big boy. I can take whatever you want to dish out. Promise ~”
You don’t doubt that for even a moment, your fingers trembling around his girth when he hunches over you, bringing the upper half of his body close. Even for as lithe as he is you can tell exactly how powerful he really was in the distribution of his muscle mass, the way he fills out the shirt that clings and stretches with him. He’s nowhere near as big and bulging as the Grandmaster, but he doesn’t really need to be. A wilting wallflower he was not despite the misleadingly svelte appearance of his body.
In fact, he’s perfectly solid when he descends upon you with a vengeance, grabbing your face between his hands and yanking you up into a hard, demanding kiss. This, too, is more teeth than tongues and lips, but you rise to meet the attack head on and nip him right back, much to his groaning delight.
Working blind now, you fumble to find the belt around his narrow waist and tug at it, every now and again feeling the hard imprint of him brush your knuckles. You just barely manage to get the buckle unclasped before Lohen rumbles a hungry sound, leaning his sturdy weight into you even when you try to push back against him. The two of you stay locked in battling wills like that for a prolonged moment and then —
He finally shoves at you hard enough to send you toppling backwards onto the ground, following right after you to all but crush you against the hard rock. It punches the air out of your lungs to leave you briefly winded, gasping, but you’re almost too busy kissing him to notice it.
All at once hands are flying everywhere, tugging at everything, clawing at each other as if you were really fighting it out. Except you knew good and well that this was not how he would attack you if he was being serious, which you were admittedly quite glad for. That certainty stops any fear from taking root in your mind when he roughly grabs at the belt around your waist and pulls so hard your hips momentarily leave the floor. You yelp a harried sound but he just swallows it right up, once again plunging his tongue deep into your mouth with the same ferocity he wields his spear with.
It might have been easy to mistake his intentions for something they weren’t if you were just a little less familiar with his way of doing things, if you hadn’t already looked into his eyes and seen the truth for what it is. You felt confident he wouldn’t kill you, not here, not today. Not intentionally or otherwise. So there is no bloom of terror in your heaving chest while he aggressively works to wrestle you further below him.
And you don’t make it easy for him either. You had a feeling that would have ruined his fun and he wouldn’t have appreciated it much anyway. A too easy victory was the source of much of Lohen’s daily boredoms, after all, so you make sure to put up a good fight for him.
Finally managing to yank your arm out from the tight press of your bodies, your hand shoots up to hook under his chin again. But this time when you apply pressure you do so straight into his jaw and he’s forced to tip his head back or risk chomping down on his own tongue. Rattling a labored, tittering laugh, he lets you shove his neck back without much fuss even as his hands continue to grab at you, pulling on clothes and appreciatively feeling you up at the same time.
You take that short moment of respite to catch your breath a little bit, wheezing under him as if you’d just run ten miles straight. Lohen is quick to shrug out of your hold though and he swoops right back in to grab a handful of your shirt. One hard yank is all it takes to have the delicate hooks giving way, leaving you to gape at him in disbelief, but it was already much too late. What’s done is done, and all you can do is seethe a quiet sound when he starts to force the sleeves down your twisting arms.
“Nnghn. Was that really necessary, vice-captain?”
“Sure was ~” He chirps right back, utterly unconcerned about it.
Suppressing the urge to reach back up and do the same to his shirt, you instead let him manhandle your top off, eager to be rid of the stifling material. It was filthy anyway, between all of the blood and the dirt you’d accumulated from rolling around on the ground, and you aren’t sad to see it go.
Luckily Lohen gets that off and tossed aside quickly enough before then setting his sights on the silky brassiere that cradles your breasts. He makes even quicker work of the flimsy garment, barely allowing himself enough time to get the cups shoved out of his way before he swoops in to capture one of the stiff nipples in his mouth.
Your back dramatically bows against the unforgivingly hard ground as you keen a sound that is somehow half startled and half tinged with ecstasy at the same time. Abandoning your endeavor of tugging at his slouching pants, you let your hands fly up to take desperate hold of his hair. He just groans a hot, muffled sound into the meat of your tit though, slowly driving his pelvis into you while he does it so you can feel his seeking cock where it digs into your stomach.
“Oh! God!”
Faintly humming his agreement, Lohen takes a moment to simply suckle at you, drawing the sensitive teat towards the back of his throat. Then, once he seems to be satisfied with the swollen bud, he carefully brings his teeth down on it to lightly worry the flesh. That has you squirming underneath him, as aroused by the sensation as you were nervous about him biting you in earnest, but he does not.
He just comes up off your chest with a loud, wet pop another heartbeat later to leave the nipple coated in spit and stiffly coiled. The waft of air that immediately assaults you all at once has you shuddering wildly enough to make him readjust the way he’s got you pinned to the cave floor, settling his hips more squarely on top of yours.
“Oooh. A bit sensitive, are we?” Crooning slyly, Lohen walks two of his gloved fingers up your middle to softly tease the wet, pebbled peak, making it pebble into an even tighter point. At your responding hiss, he adjusts his hand to take the meaty bud between thumb and forefinger, tweaking it now to the accompaniment of a rather sultry laugh.
“These are cute.” He goes on, grinning. “You should let me pierce them for you. I bet you’d look stunning with some pretty jewelry in your tits.”
He pinches down a little harder, as if to test your tolerance for pain, and you wince at the imagined sting of a needle. “I - I don’t know about that, Lohen. Do you even know how to pierce someone?”
“Wellll …”
Realizing the unsavory double entendres of what you’d just said, you reach up to smack his shoulder with a huff. As if you’d really needed that reminder of the carnage you’d watched him dish out when you were surrounded by the evidence of it.
He just gives another devious little giggle though, quickly pushing up onto his knees to hover over you. Abandoning your chest now, he lifts his hands to work over the buttons on his shirt with lightning quick precision to leave it hanging half open, showing off an enticing strip of his tight stomach. He then directs his hands lower down and you quickly realize what he’s doing, watching in rapt fascination as he loosens the fastens of his slacks with familiar efficiency. It would have taken you a good moment of fumbling to get them undone but he seems to have it taken care of in only a matter of seconds.
And when he finally reaches inside to free himself, you just can’t seem to help the tiny, threadbare gasp that catches in your throat at the sight of him. It’s perfect in your estimation; sinfully smooth and silky with a delectably fleshy hood that gathers over the tip but which readily glides back when he fists that rigid length and draws his hand down. You don’t miss the little wet click that sounds in time with the motion, pressing your thighs together in a fierce squeeze as your own excitement ratchets up another dizzying notch.
Somehow or another you can’t quite shake the confounding impression that he looked like he’d been made just for you. Like he would fill you up exactly right, like he’d hit every single pleasure inducing nerve along the way. It was almost overwhelming in its potency.
And you’re suddenly very aware of just how drenched your cunt actually is as you not so subtly squirm underneath him, there on the ground.
Which catches Lohen’s attention, of course, his razor edged grin widening. Still lazily caressing himself with one hand, he reaches out with the other to grab under your knee and wrench it wide, forcing you into an unladylike sprawl before going back in to snag at the skirt of your uniform.
“Let me see you too, honeybun. That’s only fair, isn’t it?” He murmurs, shoving the bulk of the material out of his way to expose your modest bloomers to his raking gaze.
You’re almost struck by the urge to cover yourself back up, more than a little self conscious about doing this here of all places. But it’s as if your pussy has a mind of its own and you instead nudge your hips at him in offering, mewling a breathless little sound when he doesn’t hesitate to take you up on that invitation.
Gloved hand smoothing over the center seam, Lohen allows himself a moment to just rub over you, admiring the way your body twitches into the pressure rather than trying to shirk away from it. That doesn’t hold his attention for very long, though, and he soon releases his hold on his cock so he can grab at your bottoms with both hands and yank them down your legs.
Some brief twisting on your part is required to get them untangled and tossed away, but he wastes no time descending upon you again, palming at the soft pudge along your inner thighs to press them into another wide spread. All at once you can feel everything now, from the exposed, puffy slit of your cunt, the excess of excited slick that wets the coarse hair there and the cool waft of air against your most sensitive spot. It makes you tremble wildly even as you crane your head up to peer down the length of your own body, taking in the lurid spread he’s got you pinned in.
You almost couldn’t believe that you were letting him do this to you, right here, right now, but burn everything, you’re so glad you were. You couldn’t recall there ever being a time when you’d felt quite so damn needy.
“Ooohho, my, oh my, princess. What a pretty little pussy you’ve got there. Looks good enough that I could just eat it up.”
Squeezing your eyes shut in a failed attempt to block that out, you let slip a quiet, seething hiss through your clenched teeth. “Fuck, Lohen. Just get on with it. I — I don’t want to wait anymore. Stop teasing me.”
“Hah! And who’s to say I’m just teasing you, huh?” Ever so slowly he starts to drag the palms of his hands up over the meat of your thighs, your waist, your ribs and then your tits before he finally wraps them around your neck in a loose hold. He gradually leans over you while he does it, coming back down again to put his face close to yours where he takes a moment to simply nuzzle at your nose, your lips.
“Maybe I really do just want to eat you out. I could make it sooo good for you, too.” Lohen continues, purring at you, while his shuddering breath dances across your skin. “I get the sense that a lot of women would kill for the chance to have their pussy ate but you'd rather get fucked, wouldn’t you? Want me to take you hard and fast, don’t you, princess? Is that it?”
You find yourself nodding along with what he’s saying before you even have the conscious thought to do so. He was right, and there was no sense in denying it. Not when you were already effectively naked from the waist down, laid out underneath him in a tense, halting sprawl.
And now that he’s pressed flush against you once more, you take the opportunity to curl your legs up around his narrow hips and pull him in even tighter, ankles crossing over the small of his back.
He chuckles a raspy, creaky sound at that, driving his hips forward to grind that throbbing length into your sopping wet core even as he continues to softly pet over your throat at the same time. The hellfire in his eyes has taken on a strangely sultry gleam now, hazy crimson pupils blown so wide they seem to almost drown out the surrounding blue-gray iris. If you didn’t know any better you might have mistaken him for a deadly, sadomasochistic incubus in that moment.
Gods, and was that really that far from the truth?
“Give it to me, Lohen.” You murmur, your kissed raw lips brushing his with every urgently uttered word. “Give me your cock. Show me what it’s like to really be bested by you. Claim your victory.”
A terrible shudder works through him at that plea, loosing a threadbare moan as his eyelashes flutter and then slip shut. It appears to affect him a great deal, to hear you welcoming your own end at his hands like this, but that hardly even seems to give him pause.
Slipping one of his hands from around your neck, he reaches down to squeeze into the tight, hot space between his body and yours. Your chest hitches at the indelicate swipe of his seeking cockhead while he blindly directs it where it needs to go, feeling for your entrance, and when he finds it in the next heartbeat you all but choke on the pressure he exerts. Shoving himself into the delicate give of your pussy has your inner sleeve readily stretching to accommodate him, too eager and too wet to deny him access to your guts even if you’d wanted to. And you really, really don’t want to.
You cling to him with desperate abandon, heaving against Lohen’s mouth, the line of his neck, at the sensation of being invaded, subjugated, claimed in this manner. The sharp sear of penetration brings reflexive tears to your eyes, teeth gnashing while you try to bite back an overwhelmed, gasping sob. It’s nearly impossible, though, when your estimation of him had been right on the mora. He does fill you up just right. His width, his length, the girth that forces your interior walls to relent the more he pushes inside, slowly feeding himself into your hungry cunt.
His hand comes back up then, no longer needed between your legs when he was already sunk half of the way inside. Grunting a stuttering sound as he worms his fingers beneath your head, closing them around a tight fistful of your hair so that he can yank your neck back at a vulnerable angle, he descends upon your mouth like a ravenous beast. Kissing you, biting, licking, sucking on your poor abused bottom lip until the taste of fresh blood springs up anew.
He’s relentless, insatiable in the way he lays claim to your body, and you quickly find that you enjoy every second of it. Lohen feels good moving on top of you, inside you, his presence smothering you in a near suffocating shroud. It’s hard to breathe like this, with him all but crushing you into the ground and his cock impaling you straight up the middle, but you come alive under him in a way you can’t quite recall ever experiencing before.
And when he at last settles against your pelvis, wedged within you as far as he can conceivably go, you mewl an intoxicated sound into his mouth which he greedily swallows. Your hands are in his hair, nails raking down his back, yanking on him and frantically grasping him to you as if he could possibly get any closer than he already is.
But Lohen takes it all in stride, giving your tongue one last, forceful suck before he eases back just enough to issue a heady, faltering groan into the cramped space. His gaze fixes on you, dreamy and distant, head tilting to the side as his lips twitch into a languid smirk. Just drinking in your pinched, inebriated expression.
“Don’t tap out on me too soon, sweetheart. I’m not ready to be done with you just yet.”
He starts to move then, experimentally testing the give of your clinging grip on him at first. But when he’s met with little to no resistance, he rapidly starts to pick up the pace. His powerful body flexes over yours, such a sharp contrast against your soft, cushiony frame and every bit as thrilling as all the rest. The sound of skin slapping against quickly rises in the stifling air around you, bouncing off the cave walls to reflect back at you on an endless loop. It rattles around inside your brain, adding on to the swelling cacophony of lurid noises as your breathless exclamations join his masculine grunts to create a single, singing symphony.
There is absolutely nothing you can do to brace against the deep, toe-curlingy full strokes of his plunging cock though. It seems to gut you repeatedly, sucker punching the air right out of your aching lungs, each and every time he slams his hips down onto you. Your pussy positively spasms around it, dripping, drooling, squelching softly in excess. All you can do is desperately hold on for the ride, arching up to meet his next thrust with another frantic wail of ecstasy.
He soon pushes himself away though, lifting the top half of his body to hover over you instead of laying out on top like he had been. Centering the brunt of his weight on the hand still wrapped around your throat, Lohen pushes in on your neck to tip your head back and cut off the airflow. An unseemly, gurgling noise slips from your mouth as you start to choke, watching as if from some far off, distant, dreamy place when he drags his hooded attention down to admire the energetic bounce of your tits.
“Shit. Just look at these. I didn’t even realize you were hiding such a luscious body underneath that boring armor until now. Mmnnggghhn. You really should let me pierce them, you know.” He says, casual despite the rumbling growl in his voice. Despite the quick, hard jabs of his cock pistoning into you.
Pulling his bottom lip between his teeth in a deviously impish look, he reaches out with his opposite hand and mercilessly slaps the jiggling meat of one tit.
You jolt at the sharp sting of pain, making some helpless, sobbing noise under the hand on your throat, writhing on his cock. It makes your pussy clamp around him in a vice grip, hard enough to make him feel somehow even bigger inside you, and he hisses a wounded little groan at the tight squeeze.
Narrow chest stuttering slightly, Lohen lets his head lull back as if in blissful anguish for a drawn out moment even while his hips continue to drive against you.
“Goddamn. You’re taking me so good. Mmnghn! That’s it, honeybun. Keep squeezing. Just. Like. That.”
Bringing his head back up, he delivers another hard swat to the first tit and then one to the second, turning the delicate flesh hot under his attention. You whimper a delirious noise when your eyes start to roll back but he’s quick to let up the pressure on your neck, allowing the air to rush down your abused windpipe and expand your screaming lungs to capacity. While you gasp and cough, sucking in mouthful after mouthful, he smooths his palm over the tender flesh of your breast before giving it a too tight pinch. Fingers sinking deep into the malleable flesh, he gives it an almost condescending jiggle, as if drawing your attention to the size and the shape, the weight of it. As if you didn’t already know perfectly well.
Then he releases you, retracts his hand, and gives your chest another smack. And this time you squeal a harried sound when he catches the nipple just right, making it throb in hurt.
“V - vice-captain! Please!”
“Heheheee, you like that? You love it? Do you want more?”
“Ughhnn, yes … yes! Give me more, sir, I want it!”
The grin that overtakes his mouth practically splits his face in half.
So excited, so amped up on fast pumping endorphins and adrenaline that it makes him tremble on top of you, Lohen leans down to press down on your sore throat once again. Your airway is cut off, your head is forced back, lips quivering open in a perfect little ‘o’ while you try to gasp for breath.
And with nary an ounce of hesitation or shame, he spits right into your mouth with startling accuracy.
Your eyes go wide, staring up at him in affronted surprise, but you can’t get enough air down your throat to snap at him for doing something so disgusting. And the worst part is you don’t even hate it as much as you really wished you did. The urges of your body seem to have completely overridden your higher functioning mind, reducing you to little more than a hot, wet, weeping hole that begs for release. Aching for it, straining for it.
You can think of nothing else while Lohen shifts on top of you, slightly changing the angle at which his cock spears up into your guts, relentless as ever. He appreciatively drags his gaze over your body, the hand wrapped around your throat, the bra pushed up over your tits to give them room to bounce, the spread of your thighs where his hips wedge them apart. Taking it all in, admiring the mess he’s made of you.
Between the blood, the dirt, sweat and saliva, the tears and the flood of arousal from your cunt, that’s exactly what you were. Irrevocably and in no uncertain terms.
It’s clear even through the reeling haze hanging over your head he likes it, though, and you beautifully arch for him, angling your pelvis to better accept the continuous plunge of his cock. He groans, eyes briefly sliding closed as if he, too, was overwhelmed by the rush of everything, the intense surge of pleasure.
Then Lohen leans back, releasing your neck to once again leave you sucking in a ragged gasp of air. But this reprieve he’s given you is painfully short lived, and you soon find yourself yelping a startled shriek of pain when he smacks both of your tits at the same time.
“O - ooughh!”
Laughing at the way you lurch and twist underneath him, he quickly grabs two big handfuls of your breasts and pinches them so tightly it forces the nipples up and out between the clench of his fingers. Everything starts to spin around you nauseatingly fast, hissing at the aches and the pains, wheezing when you suddenly realize how close you were actually getting to the edge. The rough treatment from him just seems to stoke your simmering core to hotter and hotter temperatures, making you thrum from the inside out for him. Further heightening your sensitivity and emphasizing how good it felt to have his rigid length carving out a perfectly Lohen-shaped space within you. And it was overwhelming in the best possible way.
“Come on, princess! Cum for me. Show me how pretty you look shaking on my cock. Who’s making you cream? Huh?”
“Nghn, y - yoouuu! It’s you, Lohen! All you! Only you!”
As if to reward you, to show you he’s pleased with your answer, he adjusts his hands to pinch at your stiff nipples, mercilessly rolling them between the warm pads of his leather gloves now. “And who does this tight little pussy belong to, sweetheart? Speak up. Tell me who owns it!”
“You do! I - I … — oohhh god! It belongs tuh - to the vice-captain of the … of the fifth company, sir!”
Snarling a vicious sound of victory, Lohen abruptly releases your tits to leave them throbbing in the aftermath. He descends upon you, covering you with his body, as his hands come up to cradle either side of your sweaty face. Ever so tenderly — shockingly so, given all of the rough treatment leading up to this moment — he turns your face up at him so he can claim your mouth in another searing kiss.
Caged in like that, his pelvis still drilling into yours, one sharp plap! plap! plap! after another, all you can do is shake underneath him.
And you do. The tempo he sets in this new position is slower paced, but no less hard. That forceful, demanding plunge of his cock sliding deep into your pussy has you shuddering so fitfully, rocking uncontrollably, that you tip right over into an earth shattering orgasm before you can even fully comprehend it’s happening. One wild vibration of the pulled taut nerves leads you right into the next, only to immediately devolve into a mindless tremor of spasms when release grips you fast. So abrupt it’s as if someone just pulled the rug right out from under you.
Your whole body seems to convulse around him, shrieking your ecstasy into Lohen’s mouth but this, too, he just swallows right up, muffling the hysteric noise. His breathing is harsh and ragged where his nose is pressed up tight against yours but even then he won’t stop kissing you. Fucking you. Riding you through your own release and straight into his another moment later.
It’s not nearly as explosive as yours is, but even in the cresting euphoria of your doped out stupor you’re still keenly aware of the red hot, pulsing rush of gooey warmth that shoots deep inside of you. Somehow or another it adds something to the experience, highlighting your swooning reverie to the point of making you feel truly delirious. Like he really had ended you there on the cave floor and brought you back to life, all in the same fell swoop.
But you just continue to cling to him throughout it, even after your pussy has stopped contracting and you’ve started to come down from that buzzing high. One fractured piece of you at a time, you fit back into your body again only to find yourself suddenly aware of so many different things at once.
The first is that you really were quite sore after that unexpected exchange of blows. It was to be expected, of course, but the warm afterglow would only dull the many aches for so long. You were sure to be in a fair amount of pain come morning.
The second is that Lohen is still sprawled out on top of you, his cock sitting wedged in the mess he’d made between your thighs. He was growing soft now but he seemed reluctant to pull out just yet. Or to even so much as stir, for that matter.
The third and final thing is how very hard the ground is against your back and with that thought comes a budding spark of mute horror.
You’d gotten so caught up in him and the way he made you feel that you had almost forgotten where you were. The treasure hoarder hideout. The bodies he’d left scattered around the area as if they were nothing more than crumpled up sheets of paper that had been tossed aside.
In the name of Barbatos, what was wrong with you?
“L - Lohen,” you stammer, struggling to find some semblance of your voice again, but even just that timid little squeak is enough to bring his head up to look at you.
“Hm? What’s wrong, honeybun? You seem a bit nervous.” Grinning a slow, satiated smile, he very much resembles a caricature of the cat that ate the canary when he reaches up to wipe a smudge of — something off your cheek. “Don’t start overthinking it now. You had fun, didn’t you? I know I did.”
You’re sure he did, but … “But isn’t this wrong? The dead - -“
You start to turn your head as if in fretful search of one of the corpses, but Lohen is quick to squeeze the pudge of your cheeks and yank you back around. Forcing you to keep your eyes on him, his expression oddly stoic. Not quite serious, per se, just … apathetic, you think.
“Are dead, sweetheart. There’s nothing more to it than that. You don’t owe them any amount of respect or consideration. They didn’t have any for you when they were alive, did they?”
Biting at your sore lip, you give a slow shake of your head. He was right, of course. The world was better off without them and you were glad that they would no longer be terrorizing Mondstadt, or anywhere else for that matter.
It’s just.
“Aww, what’s the matter? Do you feel like a bad girl for having sex with me in front of a bunch of dead guys?”
You cringe at that, bringing a hand up to cover your face. The way he could speak so crassly about something like this should probably be a bit more alarming than it actually is, but this was Lohen you were dealing with here.
“I don’t know if I’d put it like that, but … yeah? Kind of? The church has always taught us to - -“
“Eh, church smurch! What do they know anyway?” Waving that off with a careless flick of his hand, Lohen finally pushes himself up to kneel between the spread of your legs. His cock slips out with the movement, leaving behind a sticky, churned up mess, but he’s quick to grab at your arms and haul you up to sit with him, entirely unperturbed by the tiny squeak you let out at the manhandling.
“How about this,” he says, as if he were leveling with you over something as mundane as where to eat dinner at that night. The only indicator that he isn’t having a quiet laugh at your expense, mocking you, is the utterly sincere, mischievous twinkle in his narrowed eyes as he tips his head towards you. “I’ll help you get cleaned up as best I can out here then we’ll go home. Get some food in us. Catch a quick bath. We can even stop at an apothecary on the way and pick up some contraceptives, if you’d like. But understand that I’m not about to let you off the hook that easily. I told you already, didn’t I? That sweet little pussy of yours looks good enough to eat and I plan to do just that.”
You hardly even believe what you’re hearing. “But — Lohen —!”
“Ah, ah! No buts, now. Unless you want me to eat that too, of course.”
Noising some wordless exclamation of embarrassed fluster, you give his shoulder a quick shove but all you succeed in doing is making him laugh.
“You’re so easy to tease, honeybun. It really is adorable. But, listen,” he says, grabbing your hand and then refusing to let it go even when you give your arm a tug. “I’ll do my best to make it up to you so that this isn’t the only thing you think about when you picture us having sex. In fact, I’ll try to make round two even better. Then you won’t feel like a bad girl anymore, right?”
You just stare at him in utterly perplexed silence for a drawn out moment. For him to think of it like that, in this particular framing, was already strange enough.
More odd, however, is that he would even care whether or not you felt good or bad in the first place. You wouldn’t have thought such notions concerned him all that much, given. Well. Everything about him. And yet …
Slowly, a tentative smile creeps across your face. “Are you trying to say you want me to not feel so guilty about what we just did? Does that mean you’re going to listen to my confession, vice-captain?”
“Ooh, I’ll do a lot more than listen, honeybun. I’ll even help you repent and ask Lord Barbatos for his forgiveness, if you’d like. Bad girls do belong on their knees, after all ~”
18+ mdni | situationship!rafayel has commitment issues…until you start seeing someone and have to break it off with him!
TW. rough sex, he slaps ur face, degrading, he calls you a bitch and stuff during sex (with consent!), choking, daddy kink (sorry), a lil angst like he’s a dick but it’s miscommunication a bittt, dating apps, shitty dating app behaviour, face fucking (m rec), cum eating, he grinds against ur foot and cums like that💔
“how bad do you want it?”
rafayels hands tightened on your waist as he stilled his cock between your walls, throbbing at the sight of you trying to fuck yourself onto him. you clamped down tighter on his cock, earning a groan from the man above you.
“p-please, raf…need you so bad” you whined, once again trying to grind your hips against his in search of stimulation.
he smirked at the desperation in your voice, letting go of your waist to lightly slap your face. “keep your fuckin’ eyes open, want you to look at me when you cum on my cock”. immediately resuming his previous pace, rafayel harshly thrusted into you, the sound of skin slapping filling the room alongside your moans. “yeah you like that? huh? needy fuckin’ bitch”
you gripped the sheets below you as he spit degrading words into your face. as much as you hated to be that person, hearing his usually gentle voice speak such belittling terms only brought you closer to your climax. “fuck, raf—ngh”, your clit throbbed with each grind against the hairs on his pelvis, slick leaking from your cunt as the coil in your belly tightened. “please can i cum? need it so bad, raf please—”
his hands released your middle and tightened around your throat to cut you off, words lost on your tongue as he spit into your open mouth. “you wanna cream on this dick then you address me properly”
he gripped the underside of your thighs and folded them against you, putting you into a mean mating press while shoving his cock impossibly deeper. tears streaked down your face with every brutal thrust, a shiny ring of white circling the base of his cock. “p-please daddy, wanna cum for you, wan’ feel you fill me up”
he smirked at your fucked out cries, finally bringing a hand to circle your swollen bundle of nerves. “go on then, show me how good it feels”
the rasp in his voice pushed you over the edge, cunt throbbing around his length as he fucked you through your high, leading to him following soon after. he collapsed above you as his cock twitched inside your hole, cum filling you up. pressing gentle kisses along your collarbone, rafayel slowly pulled out with a wince, immediately moving to grab a warm rag to clean you with. you spread your legs for easier access, giggling when he leaned down and whispered what a ‘good girl your pussy has been’ for him.
“was it too much today?” he murmured, throwing the towel to the side before pulling you into a hug and wrapping the two of you in a blanket. you shook your head, nuzzling against his chest and pressing a tender kiss on his ribs.
“felt perfect”
he sighed contentedly, holding you close for a few minutes before grabbing his phone. you watched him scroll and tap away while responding to messages, clearing his throat after a while and tapping your shoulder.
“you should use the washroom before heading out baby”
your chest ached as he began to pull away like usual, nodding and walking to the bathroom while he giggled at messages on his phone.
“hey could you pick up your laundry from last time since you’re here? just easier than me having to bring it over.” he shouted from the bed, going silent once more as you finished cleaning yourself up.
you scoffed at his request, washing your hands and immediately walking out of the room. he finally spoke once more as you zipped up your jeans, patting yourself down to ensure you had everything with you.
“you upset or something?”
your eyes burned with tears at the ignorant question, wondering if he even knew how shitty he was being. “no, raf. i’m fine.”
he called out your name as you practically ran out of the house, nearly gasping for air the second you reached your car. you sat behind the steering wheel for a few minutes, contemplating whether it was worth it to continue this ‘relationship’ just as another girl walked to his door, her features similar to yours being highlighted by the moonlight.
filled with rage, you opened your chat with rafayel and typed out a paragraph saying how unfair he was, calling him selfish and a dick before deleting it and simply saying:
we’re done.
hours passed before he finally read the message, not even dignifying you with a response. at first his indifference had only caused more strife, your mind hating how long you let him disrespect you until you realized he likely hadn’t spared a second thought on what you two had (or more what you didn’t have).
in an attempt to get over him, you downloaded one of the many dating apps your friends raved about, swiping for hours before meeting a match that actually felt real. just as you were getting ready for your first date, your phone began to buzz with a call.
rafayel.
you let it go to voicemail before he called again…and again, and again, finally prompting you to pick up.
“hey cutie” he spoke in his relaxed demeanour, completely disregarding your last text and his blatant lack of response.
you scoffed before responding, deciding to tell him through voice that you were over it. “what, raf. i’m not gonna give you any more time to play me so just say what you want and leave me the fuck alone.”
“fuck is up your ass? i didn’t even say shit, just calling to see how you’re doing” he replied, tone incredulous as if he couldn’t possibly fathom your words.
“really? that’s what this is? you’re not just calling for a hookup?”
a beat of silence passed before he answered, a seductive lilt now lacing his voice. “is that what you want it to be?”
you laughed at his sheer audacity, picking up the phone and gesturing wildly as you spoke, imagining you were in front of him. “since you don’t seem to have gotten the message, we’re done. i’m tired of letting you fuck me like all the other whores you use. i’ve already moved on, so you should too.”
just as he began to respond, you hung up, not allowing for any of the bullshit excuses he could give you. he called several times after, forcing you to put your phone on silent.
another 20 minutes passed while you put the finishing touches on your makeup, opening the dating app to text your date before seeing they had unmatched you.
a cold wave of reality washed over you, your heart beginning to ache as you questioned if you were the problem.
before you knew it, tears streaked down your face along with mascara, sobs tearing from your throat right as the sound of your doorbell rang. you considered ignoring it until the beeping went on relentlessly, your figure stomping to the entrance and ripping the door open only to find rafayel standing ahead of you with a rolled up canvas in his hands.
“listen baby, i’m—hey, hey, what’s wrong?”
the gentle sound of his unfortunately comforting voice had your tears starting up again, streaming down your face as you walked towards him, throwing yourself into his arms. “t-tried to g-go on a date and stop thinking of you, but they unmatched me j-just before we were gonna meet up.”
your makeup smeared on his linen top, staining it with mascara and the rest of your hopeless effort of seeing someone who put you first. rafayels hands immediately wrapped around you, throwing the wrapped up paper into your house and walking you backwards so he could step inside. he locked the door before walking to you once more, wiping your endless flow of tears as each drop fell while tenderly shushing you, saying how sweet and pretty you were, and what a dickhead that person was.
when your cries finally eased into little sniffles, rafayel lead you to the couch before going to the sink and filling a cup of water, placing it before you and sitting in front of you. “okay?”
you nodded while gulping down the water, occasional sniffles coming out while you stared at him, noting how good he looked even in a (now) dirty shirt.
“first off, i’m so sorry, baby. they’re a fucking loser and you look so gorgeous. i’m glad i got to see it even if it wasn’t for me.” you laughed and rolled your eyes at the comment, leaning your head on one hand as he continued.
“second…i know you said we’re done. i know—listen, i fucked up. i was scared of how much i liked you and i just—so much stuff has been temporary and i wasn’t sure if you would be permanent so i thought if i pretended to not care then it wouldn’t hurt if you left but fuck, baby it hurts. it hurts so fucking bad.”
your eyes widened at the sincerity in his voice, throat drying when he looked up with his sweet puppydog eyes, revealing bags under his usually well-rested lids. “i-i can’t even sleep without you, angel. you mean so much and…h-here look”
you watched as he scrambled to grab the rolled up canvas, unwrapping it to reveal a painting of you. sleeping.
“i hope you don’t think it’s weird, i just remember the first time we…y’know. um, i woke up and the sun was shining on your face and you looked so fucking pretty, like more than usual which is already a lot.”
a blush creeped up his neck with each word, ears tinging pink when he looked to see you already staring at him. “i…i don’t know. i don’t have anything else i guess. i just ran over here because the thought of you moving on from me hurt and i don’t want anyone else to see you like this.”
he gestured towards the painting with his final words, eyes staring down at the ground while waiting for your response.
you sat for a few seconds, simply taking in his monologue and the genuine action from the man you thought didn’t care for you. “then what about that girl? last time i was over i saw a girl walk to your door?”
confusion covered rafayels features before his eyebrows raised in realization, words immediately tumbling from his mouth to correct the mistake. “oh-oh god no. baby that was thomas’ sister—she came to ask if i would paint for her wedding.”
you nodded at his explanation, realizing your mistake but still being stuck on the way he had previously acted with you.
he shuffled his feet while standing before you, looking up when you stood and walked towards him, staring into his eyes as you took in the tired features adorning his face. “fine. i’m giving you one chance.”, rafayel immediately beamed at your words, dropping the painting to wrap his arms around you. you yelped when he picked you up, spinning around with you in his arms.
“raf! listen!” you shouted, looking at him sternly. “we can try again but you have to let me in. i can’t keep being a stranger in your life.”
he nodded at your words, a hand on his chest to show how dedicated he was to working on lowering his walls. finally, he knelt down and wrapped his arms around your thighs, nearly purring as you ruffled his hair with a hand. “thank you, baby. thank you, thank you, thank you” he murmured, pressing gentle kisses to your bare legs. you smiled down at him until he continued to kiss your thighs, nudging his nose against the apex between them. “can i make it up to you?”
your skin buzzed as he stared up in wanton need, biting your lip before giving him the go ahead. slowly, rafayel licked a stripe from your inner thigh to your cunt, dampening your panties with his spit as he gently pried your legs open. “can’t believe someone else almost got this” he spoke between kisses, inhaling your scent deeply.
you moaned at his eager behaviour, already dripping before he pulled the flimsy cloth to the side, immediately dipping his tongue between your lips with a groan. “fuck, you have no idea how much i thought of this angel. couldn’t stop jerking off just thinking of your taste.”
a shaky exhale left you as he began to lick and suck your cunt with fervour, focusing on your clit and moving down to tongue your hole every so often. the rapid stimulation had you bucking against his face, already close to your climax in just a few minutes. “cmon angel, know my cutie wants to cum for me, lemme see it, yeah?” he spoke against your pussy, the vibrations from his words adding to the building pleaseure of your high, the sight of him palming his cock through his pants finally pushing you over the edge. “yeah that’s right, fuck-taste so good” he moaned, a trembling hand grabbing your foot to step on his bulge while he slurped every drop of your cum eagerly.
you watched him spasm below you as his own hips twitched, a damp spot forming on his pants where he had been humping against your foot. the two of you caught your breath as he slowly stood up, pressing a kiss to your lips.
⋮ 𓏲ּ𝄢 ┆your a dutiful princess sent to marry the barbarian dragon king of the scarlet region for the sake of an alliance, only to find yourself caught between your terrifying new husband and the fiercely loyal dragon hybrid who slowly becomes just as possessive of you as the king himself.
⧼ 🏵️ ⧽ ∿ pairings 。 ⸝⸝ katsuki bakugo x fem!reader x eijiro kirishima 𓄲 genre ⨾ tropes 。 alternative universe (au: fantasy), romance, arrange marriage, polyamorous romance, mature themes, explicit sexual scenes 𓏲 contains 。 ᵎᵎ nsfw, 18+ only mdni, language, some world building, barbarian/dragon king!katsuki, dragon hybrid!eijiro, princess!reader, political marriage, slight misogyny, slight jealousy, smut, threesome, dirty talks, virgin!reader, dom!katsuki, softdom!eijiro, oral (m & f receiving), unprotected piv sex, multiple orgasm, size kink, praise kink, breeding kink, slight degradation, missionary, cowgirl, cuckholding, spit roasting, pet names (princess, sweetheart, queen, good girl) ꩜ ⋆.˚ word count 。 18.8k ꔛ
꒰ star speaks ꒱ ✮ this idea was originally supposed to be just katsuki x reader but considering kiri is katsuki’s dragon companion in the fantasy au made me want to add him. . . and a lot of you thought the same because kiribaku x reader won the poll ( thank you to everyone who voted btw ) 👀 also, this is my version of the fantasy au considering there is not that much lore behind it. this took forever so here it is, ya nasties, hope you enjoy! ‹𝟹
﹙m.list﹚ ﹙nav﹚ ⧼ series m.list ⧽ ﹙next﹚
you were a princess, born with noble and royal blood that carried the weight of generations before you. it was a quiet certainty that had never once been questioned as it settled into every part of your life from the moment you first opened your eyes.
as the youngest princess of the emerald empire, your place in the world had been decided long before you were old enough to understand what it meant, long before you could even speak your own name.
your older brother was raised to be the heir, the future king who would rule with authority and knowledge, taught to lead and command and carry the legacy of your family forward, while you were something else entirely. you were softer in appearance but just as important. a princess who would one day be placed where she was most useful, a piece in the quiet and constant game that was the monarchy.
you were loved, there was never a doubt about that.
it showed in the way your parents looked at you, in way your brother indulged you, in the way the entire palace seemed to soften around your presence. you were the only princess, the youngest child, and you were treated as something precious, something to be protected and cherished, and they spoiled you in ways that made your life comfortable and warm, but even in that warmth there were rules that never changed.
your family was traditional, deeply so, and their love never wavered from the expectations they held for you.
from a young age, you were taught what it meant to be a woman in your position, and those lessons were repeated so often that they became second nature, something you accepted without hesitation.
a woman’s first duty was to be a wife, to stand beside her husband and give him children, however many he desired, without complaint, without question, because that was her purpose. the second duty followed naturally, to be a mother, to raise those children, to nurture them while the husband worked and ruled and carried on the responsibilities outside the home.
it was a cycle that had existed long before you and would continue long after, and you saw it in the women who came before you, in your mother who carried herself with quiet grace as she fulfilled her role, in your grandmother, in your great grandmother, and every woman in your lineage who had done the same without hesitation.
you never questioned it, not once, because it was all you had ever known, and there was a kind of comfort in that certainty.
this is what you are meant to be.
the thought came easily and without resistance, and you accepted it as truth.
while your father spent his time guiding your older brother through the complexities of ruling, teaching him about politics, the history of their land, the alliances and conflicts with foreign nations, you were guided down a different path entirely.
your mother oversaw your upbringing with careful attention, shaping you into what she believed a proper royal woman should be. she taught you discipline, how to hold yourself, how to move, how to speak with intention and restraint, and she taught you grace, the kind that made every action appear effortless even when it was practiced a thousand times before.
you spent countless hours learning what was expected of you, your days filled with lessons in etiquette where every gesture mattered, where the way you held a teacup or greeted a noble could reflect not just on you but on your entire family. you learned to dance, not simply for enjoyment but as a skill, something that would be required of you in court and gatherings, your steps precise and controlled under the watchful eyes of your instructors. you studied cultures beyond your own, memorizing traditions, customs, and expectations of other lands so that one day you would not embarrass your future husband’s court.
and above all else, you were taught obedience. it was a necessity. it would allow you to become the perfect wife you were meant to be.
you listened, you learned, and you never resisted, because there was nothing in you that wanted to. you were good, you were proper, you were everything they needed you to be.
so when the time finally came, when you reached the age where marriage was no longer a distant idea but an immediate reality, you did not protest when the arrangements were made, you did not question the decision when your future was decided for you.
you were told where you would go, who you would marry, and what it would mean for your kingdom, and you accepted it with the same quiet understanding you had always carried.
that was how you found yourself leaving the emerald empire, the only home you had ever known, and being sent to the scarlet region.
the difference between the two lands was impossible to ignore, it settled into your senses the moment you crossed the borders, the shift so stark that it almost felt unreal.
the emerald empire lived up to its name in every sense, a land rich with deep green forests that stretched endlessly, fields of flowers that bloomed in colors that softened the eye, rivers that reflected the sky like glass as they wound through the kingdom. the air there had always felt light, fresh, filled with the scent of earth and life, and the palace itself stood tall and elegant among it all, a place that felt open and welcoming even in its grandeur.
the scarlet region was something else entirely.
it rose from the land like something carved from the bones of the earth itself, a kingdom built atop a massive dark mountain that seemed to loom over everything around it. the stone was not polished or soft in appearance, it was jagged in places, heavy as if it had been shaped by fire and force rather than careful hands. the ground beneath it was uneven, darkened by ash and heat, and the closer you came, the more you could feel the difference in the air. it was thicker, warmer, carrying the faint scent of smoke that never fully disappeared.
the mountain itself stretched high, its peak often hidden behind dark clouds that clung to it as if they belonged there, and somewhere deeper within. there was the constant reminder of the volcano that gave the region its name, a presence that could not be seen fully but was always felt. it was not a place of soft beauty, it was a place that demanded attention. it felt alive in a harsher, more dangerous way, and yet there was something undeniably powerful about it.
the fortress that stood upon it was just as imposing, built from the same dark stone, rising high with sharp edges and heavy walls that spoke more of strength than elegance. it was not delicate, not meant to impress with grace, but with dominance, with the kind of presence that made it clear this was a kingdom that did not bend easily.
this was where you were meant to belong now, far from the green and gentle lands of your home, in a place that burned in scarlet and shadow, where everything far less forgiving.
and yet you stepped forward without hesitation, because this was your duty, and you had always known that one day you would be sent away to fulfill it.
you knew since you were ten.
the memory had settled into you quietly, it wasn’t a shock to you, it was inevitable. it had always been waiting for you even before you were old enough to understand what it meant.
it had been a warm afternoon in the emerald empire.
you had been seated beside your mother, your hands folded neatly in your lap as you were taught to do, your back straight even then because discipline had already rooted itself deep into your bones.
your father and your older brother had been speaking across the long table, their voices calm but firm, their words carrying weight even if you did not fully grasp them at the time. you remembered the way your mother’s hand rested lightly over yours, a silent instruction to listen, to pay attention, to understand that what was being discussed was important.
it was then that you first heard of the treaty.
not just a simple agreement, not just a passing arrangement between two lands, but something far more binding, something that would shape the future of both nations and, though you did not know it yet, your own life.
the emerald empire, prosperous and abundant, a land overflowing with natural wealth, had long held resources that other nations sought after. among them, the most prized were the emeralds themselves, stones that were not only symbols of status and power but also held practical value in trade, crafting, and even in certain forms of energy use that had been developed over time.
the scarlet region, in contrast, was not a land of abundance in that sense, but it held something far more dangerous and far more valuable in times of unrest.
power.
military strength that few could rival.
the treaty, as it had been explained in terms that would later become clearer to you as you grew older, was both an agreement of peace and a formal alliance. it was structured with precision, written in language that left little room for misinterpretation, signed under the authority of both ruling powers to ensure its permanence.
the emerald empire shall supply the scarlet region with an agreed upon and consistent quantity of emerald resources, the amount determined through mutual negotiation and subject to periodic reassessment under stable conditions.
in return, the scarlet region shall provide military support to the emerald empire, offering protection, reinforcement, and armed assistance in times of conflict, threat, or war, under the obligations defined within the alliance.
it was balanced and it made sense, even to those who were not directly involved in politics.
one land provided wealth, the other provided strength. together, they ensured stability, or at the very least, the illusion of it.
but treaties like that were rarely sealed by ink alone.
they required something more binding, something that ensured loyalty beyond written words.
and that was where you came in.
the alliance was finalized not only through the signatures of two rulers but through a betrothal.
between you, the youngest and only princess of the emerald empire and the sole heir of the scarlet region, katsuki bakugo.
you did not know his name at ten in the way you would come to know it later.
back then, it had just been a name spoken among many others, one that held importance but did not yet carry weight in your mind. you had simply listened, your gaze lowered as expected, your fingers resting against your mother’s as she gently squeezed your hand once, a quiet reassurance or perhaps a reminder.
this is your duty.
as you grew older, the details became clearer.
the scarlet region did not follow the same traditions as your homeland. where the emerald empire upheld strict customs, where succession was determined by lineage and only passed on upon death to the oldest son, the scarlet region operated under a different set of rules, ones that were far less rigid and far more dangerous.
there, a ruler could step down whenever they deemed it appropriate. there was no obligation to rule until death. there was no enforced waiting.
at first, it sounded almost freeing, almost progressive in a way that contrasted your own structured upbringing. but as you learned more, as history lessons became more detailed and less softened for your ears, you began to understand what that truly meant.
power did not remain in the hands of those who were unwilling to give it up.
not for long.
stories, whispered at first and then later taught more directly, spoke of rulers who had been found lifeless in their chambers, their bodies still and cold before any official declaration of abdication had been made. others were said to have fallen ill suddenly, their decline too quick, too convenient, leaving the throne open for the next in line.
poison.
assassination.
betrayal.
these were not rare occurrence, they were part of the system.
the scarlet region thrived on strength, and strength was proven not just in battle but in the ability to take and to hold power by any means necessary. it was a land where weakness was not tolerated, where hesitation could mean death, and where loyalty was often conditional.
they were barbaric in nature, as many in your homeland described them, though never in official statements. it was a quiet understanding, one that lingered beneath formal diplomacy.
and yet, despite that, or perhaps because of it, they were powerful.
that power was what your kingdom needed.
that power was what secured your fate.
katsuki bakugo had ascended the throne in his early twenties, far earlier than most rulers in your own land would have ever been allowed to. but his case had been different.
his father had never wanted the crown. that much had been made clear in every account you had heard.
he had ruled because he had to, because the position had been his responsibility, but there had never been any true desire behind it. and so, the moment he believed his son was capable, the moment he was certain that the boy had grown into someone strong enough to take over, he stepped down.
willingly.
a rare occurrence in a land where most rulers had power taken from them rather than surrendered.
that was how katsuki became king.
young, powerful, and already carrying a reputation that spread far beyond the scarlet region itself.
they called him the dragon king.
the title alone was enough to spark curiosity when you first heard it, but the explanation behind it made it something else entirely.
he rode a dragon.
not just any beast, not just some distant creature tamed through force, but one bound to him in a way that was deeper, more personal, more dangerous.
eijiro kirishima is a dragon hybrid and katsuki’s right hand, his closest companion, his weapon, and his ally.
the stories described them as inseparable, two forces that moved as one, their presence on the battlefield enough to turn the tide of war before it had even fully begun. it was said that when the dragon king took flight, when the skies burned with the presence of that creature beneath him, there was no room left for doubt.
fear followed then victory followed short after… always.
and now, that same man was the one you were meant to marry.
though the pair interested you more than anything.
hybrids were rare.
even in lands filled with strange creatures, old bloodlines, and ancient magic that had existed long before kingdoms were ever built, hybrids remained uncommon enough to be spoken about with curiosity and caution. stories about them traveled across nations in whispers and rumors, changing slightly depending on who told them, but one thing always remained the same.
once a hybrid found the one they belonged to, their loyalty became absolute.
it was said they did not serve the way ordinary soldiers served a king. it went deeper than duty and far beyond simple obedience. the bond between a hybrid and their chosen master was something fierce, instinctive, almost animalistic in nature. once formed, it lasted for life.
they protected, obeyed, and stayed.
even death itself was said to struggle separating a hybrid from the one they devoted themselves to.
you had heard stories growing up in the emerald empire. servants whispered about dragon shifters in hushed voices while preparing your baths or brushing your hair. noble women spoke of them with fascination during gatherings while men discussed them as weapons that could change the outcome of wars. some stories painted hybrids as dangerous beasts pretending to be human while others claimed they were more loyal than any knight sworn by oath.
you had never seen one before.
not until now.
the realization settled into you the moment the large doors of the throne room opened.
the room was massive, carved from dark stone that stretched high above your head into towering ceilings supported by enormous pillars etched with old markings and scars from time. fire burned from iron braziers mounted against the walls, their flames casting flickering orange light across the gloomy chamber. unlike the bright halls of the emerald empire filled with sunlight and polished marble, this place felt heavy.
ancient.
the air itself carried the faint scent of smoke and iron.
your footsteps echoed softly as you walked forward.
the king’s council and court lined both sides of the long walkway leading toward the throne, their eyes fixed entirely on you. warriors stood among nobles instead of guards standing separately from politicians like in your homeland. here they seemed to blend together into one brutal court where strength mattered just as much as status.
you could feel their stares. some were curious. some judgmental. some openly assessing you as though trying to determine whether the foreign princess walking toward their king was worthy enough to stand beside him.
still, your posture never faltered. not once.
your head remained high, your expression calm and serene exactly as you had been taught since childhood. every movement was graceful and measured as you walked across the dark stone floor.
your dress stood out immediately against the dullness of the castle.
soft lilac silk flowed around your body with every step, the fabric delicate and elegant beneath the firelight. silver embroidery climbed along the sleeves and bodice in intricate patterns resembling vines and blooming flowers from your homeland. sheer layers of fabric draped from your arms and trailed lightly behind you across the floor.
in this dark place of stone and ash and smoke, the dress almost looked unreal.
the only other strong color in the room came from the red-haired hybrid standing beside the throne.
his hair was bright like burning crimson beneath the firelight, wild and striking against skin. large dragon wings rested folded behind him, the scales along them dark red and gleaming faintly. even from where you stood, you could see sharp scales trailing along parts of his neck and arms while red horns stuck on his forehead.
and his eyes never left the king.
you understood the stories then.
slowly, you reached the foot of the stairs leading toward the throne.
without hesitation, you lowered yourself into a proper curtsy, bowing your head respectfully. though you were royalty yourself, you stood in a foreign kingdom before another ruler. your mother had drilled that lesson into you countless times growing up.
respect the customs of the land you stand in.
your voice was soft and composed when you spoke. “my king.”then you lifted your gaze and finally saw him properly.
katsuki bakugo sat sprawled across the throne like he had been born for it… like the throne itself belonged beneath him.
his vermillion eyes locked onto yours immediately, sharp and intense enough to make your breath still for a moment. his ash blond hair looked messy and untamed as though no one would dare attempt controlling it.
he looked dangerous, beautifully dangerous.
his entire torso was bare, leaving every inch of hard muscle exposed beneath the firelight. scars littered parts of his skin, old marks that only made him appear even rougher, even more intimidating. his body looked carved from stone itself, broad shoulders leading down to a powerful chest and strong arms wrapped with strips of orange fabric around his forearms and hands.
a dark red cape lined with thick fur rested across his shoulders, the heavy material falling behind him while the fur framed his neck. black tattered pants hung low on his hips tucked into worn brown boots that looked made for battle instead of ceremony. and around his neck hung layered necklaces made from stone, jade, teeth, and rough beads that clicked softly whenever he moved.
beside his throne rested a massive broadsword. the blade alone looked large enough to split a man in half.
the room had gone silent.
completely silent.
your eyes remained locked with his as he slowly stood from his throne. the movement alone shifted the atmosphere in the room. he descended the stairs with slow swaggering steps, each one heavy against the stone floor. he did not rush. he looked like a predator approaching something that had caught his attention.
his eyes never left yours.
not once.
when he finally stopped in front of you, his body towered over yours easily.
you suddenly understood why stories about him spread across kingdoms because there was something overwhelming about him, something that demanded attention.
your breath caught quietly in your throat when he suddenly lifted a hand and pinched your chin between his fingers. his touch was rough as it was warm. he tilted your head upward slightly so he could look at you better.
the entire room seemed to hold its breath.
you could feel his gaze dragging across your face slowly, studying every detail in silence for several long seconds… then his lip curled.
“tch. at least they had the decency to send me a pretty little princess.” his voice was rough and deep, carrying easily through the silent throne room.
heat crept beneath your skin instantly.
before you could even react, he scoffed and released your chin before turning away slightly. “i might actually kill them then myself if they had given me one that looked like a mountain troll.”
a few people in the court laughed nervously.
you stayed perfectly still.
then katsuki waved a hand dismissively. “eijiro, send the woman to her quarters.”
the command was directed toward the red-haired hybrid beside the throne.
unlike katsuki’s permanent snarl and sharp gaze, the hybrid smiled warmly at you the moment his name was called.
and somehow, in this cold dark throne room filled with warriors and strangers, that smile was the first thing that felt welcoming.
you walked through the dark halls of the castle in silence, the sound of your footsteps echoing softly against the stone beneath your shoes as the heavy doors of the throne room closed behind you.
in the corridor, the walls were made from dark stone carved rough in some places and smooth in others as though parts of the castle had been built directly into the mountain itself. large torches lined the hallways every few feet, their flames flickering wildly and casting shifting shadows across the walls and floors. the firelight painted everything in deep shades of orange and gold, but it did little to soften the gloom surrounding the place.
there were no large windows letting sunlight spill through the halls. no fresh scent of flowers drifting through open corridors. instead the air carried traces of smoke, leather, iron, and something faintly earthy that reminded you of ash after rain.
in front of you, eijiro walked at an easy pace as he guided you through the winding halls just as the king had ordered.
your eyes drifted toward him quietly.
back in the throne room, nearly all of your attention had been trapped on katsuki bakugo himself. it had been impossible not to stare at him when he looked the way he did sitting upon that throne like some wild king from ancient stories.
now, with the two of you alone in the halls, this was the first time you truly got a proper look at the dragon hybrid.
your gaze slowly scanned over him.
like katsuki, his torso was completely bare beneath the warm firelight, exposing toned muscle across his back and shoulders that shifted with every step he took. his body looked strong in a different way than the king’s. where katsuki carried sharpness and intimidation, eijiro looked sturdy and grounded… protective.
metal pauldrons rested over his shoulders, dark and jagged in shape almost resembling broken pieces of rock layered over one another. leather bracers wrapped around his forearms while fitted leather pants and armored boots completed the rest of his attire. several knives rested securely along the belt around his waist.
but none of that held your attention for long. your eyes kept returning to the scales.
patches of deep red scales spread across parts of his arms and shoulders, blending into his tan skin naturally. more scales traced along the sides of his face near his jaw and temples, catching the firelight whenever he moved.
his hair was a vivid red that matched the horns protruding from his forehead. large leathery wings remained tucked behind him neatly despite their size, the dark red membranes shifting slightly every now and then as he walked.
you had never seen anything like him before.
your staring lasted just a second too long.
eijiro glanced over his shoulder before a grin spread across his face. “y’know, princess, if you keep staring at me like that i’m gonna start thinkin’ you like what you see.”
heat rushed to your face instantly. your eyes widened before you quickly looked away. “i’m so sorry,” you said softly, your voice embarrassed. “i did not mean to stare.” you hesitated for a moment before glancing back at him carefully. “it is just... this is my first time seeing a hybrid in person. let alone a dragon hybrid.”
eijiro let out a warm chuckle. “hey, don’t worry about it,” he said easily, waving a hand dismissively. “seriously. there’s no need to apologize. i get that a lot.”
his relaxed tone eased some of your embarrassment almost immediately.
you looked at him again, more carefully this time. “does it bother you?”
“nah.” he shrugged. “people get curious. especially people from other kingdoms. honestly, i’d probably stare too if i saw somebody with giant wings for the first time.”
you found yourself smiling faintly at that. the sight seemed to encourage him further.
“plus,” he continued with a grin, “you’ve been pretty respectful about it. some people act weird.”
“weird?”
“yeah.” he snorted. “either they’re terrified or they ask if i breathe fire.”
your brows lifted slightly. “can you?”
eijiro barked out a laugh so suddenly that it echoed through the hallway. “okay, see? that one’s fair.”
you lowered your gaze quickly, suddenly feeling foolish. “i apologize. that was inappropriate.”
“hey, no.” he shook his head immediately. “i’m messing with you. i do breathe fire. only on my dragon form though.”
his easygoing nature made conversation strangely comfortable despite how unfamiliar everything around you was. for a moment, the tightness sitting in your chest since arriving at the scarlet region loosened slightly.
“so,” eijiro said after a moment, glancing at you curiously. “what’s the emerald empire really like?”
your expression softened. “It is beautiful,” you answered quietly. “very different from here.”
you looked around the dim hallway before continuing.l “there are gardens everywhere. flowers grow along most parts of the palace grounds and the walls are covered with vines and roses during warmer seasons.”
eijiro listened closely. “sounds nice.”
“It is peaceful,” you admitted. “the air smells sweet during spring.”
“huh.” he smiled. “guess this place probably feels kinda… intense compared to that.”
you hesitated before nodding slightly. “a little.”
he laughed softly. “yeah, sounds about right.”
for a few moments the two of you continued walking while talking quietly.
you asked him questions about the castle, about the scarlet region, about dragons and hybrids. he answered all of them openly, seeming almost excited by your curiosity rather than annoyed by it.
in return, he asked about your home, what kind of things you liked, whether all nobility in the emerald empire were taught so formally.
“pretty much,” you admitted softly.
“that sounds exhausting.” eijiro said.
“it can be.” you let out the faintest laugh.
eijiro glanced at you again before speaking carefully.“you nervous?”
you knew immediately what he meant. your fingers tightened lightly together.
“about the king?”
he nodded.
you were quiet for a moment before speaking honestly. “i do not think he likes me.”
eijiro suddenly laughed. not cruelly, almost fondly. “trust me,” he said, shaking his head. “you’d know if katsuki doesn’t like you.”
“I would?” your brows furrowed slightly.
“oh, definitely.” he grinned. “he’s not exactly subtle.”
you thought back to the throne room. to the way katsuki had looked at you, the roughness in his voice, and to the way his fingers had held your chin.
your face warmed slightly at the memory.
eijiro noticed immediately and grinned wider. “see?”
you quickly looked away. “i simply assumed he was displeased by this arrangement.”
“well,” eijiro admitted, rubbing the back of his neck, “he definitely wasn’t happy about being forced into marriage at first.”
your chest tightened slightly, but before you could speak, he continued.
“katsuki’s just bad with people sometimes. especially women.”
you blinked. “women?”
“pretty women,” he corrected with a teasing grin.
you looked down immediately, embarrassed at his constant compliments towards you.
eijiro laughed softly again before continuing more gently. “seriously though, don’t overthink him too much. he’s rough around the edges but he’s a good person. you’ll see pretty soon how he actually is when he dislikes somebody.”
the conversation slowly drifted again before you asked quietly, “how long have you known him?”
eijiro’s expression softened immediately. “since we were kids.”
you looked up at him curiously while he smiled faintly down at you.
“hunters caught me when i was eight,” he explained. “dragon hybrids sell for a lot depending on where you are.”
your eyes widened slightly. you remembered learning about how hybrids treated in some parts. some were either killed and butchered to be sold for their parts, or they were sold for entertainment. hybrids were rare as it is, but dragon hybrids were even more rare making them more valuable.
“they kept me trapped for a while.” his tone remained casual but you still felt sadness curl in your chest. “katsuki found me,” he continued. “he was around eight too. little psycho fought grown men with a knife.”
you stared at him as you listened, trying to take it all in.
“seriously. kid was terrifying… and i was a kid!” eijiro laughed.
you could strangely imagine it. after seeing katsuki earlier, just from that brief interaction, you can already tell he was much of a menace at eight as he is now.
“he saved you.” you said.
“yeah.” his voice softened. “and i stayed with him after that.”
“you are loyal to him. i’m not surprised.” your gaze drifted toward his wings.
eijiro looked at you for a moment before nodding once. “always.”
something about the way he said it made the old stories about hybrids echo through your mind again.
once a hybrid found the one they belonged to, their loyalty became absolute.
eventually, the two of you stopped in front of a massive pair of doors at the end of a quieter hallway.
“welcome to your new quarters, princess.” eijiro pushed them open.
you stepped inside slowly and was met with an enormous room.
dark stone walls surrounded the space but heavy curtains in deep crimson softened parts of it while large fur rugs covered portions of the floor. a massive fireplace burned along one side of the room, filling it with warmth. shelves carved from black wood lined the walls while candles flickered across various surfaces. the bed itself was enormous, layered with thick dark fabrics and furs.
despite the roughness of the castle’s aesthetic, the room still felt strangely luxurious.
eijiro watched your reaction carefully. “i know it’s probably completely different from your home,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “but the king made sure your quarters were comfortable for you.”
your eyes widened slightly. “he did? really?”
eijiro smiled sheepishly. “well... not really.”
your brows lifted in confusion at that.
“but he approved of all the things brought to your room! so that’s something!”
you could not help the soft laugh that escaped you. he reminded you strangely of a large puppy, earnest and friendly.
“thank you, eijiro. truly.” you nodded politely.
his grin returned immediately. “no problem. you are the future queen of the dragon lord. i live to serve you for you are his.”
his.
he stepped back toward the doorway. “i’ll send your new servants in to help with your bath before you retire for the night.”
“thank you.” you nodded again.
“get some rest, princess.” with that, he stepped outside and slowly closed the large doors behind him.
silence settled over the room.
you stood there for a long moment before slowly walking deeper inside, taking every little thing in. finally, you sat down carefully on the edge of the massive bed. your fingers brushed against the heavy sheets beneath your hands.
it was soft, warm… and foreign.
your gaze drifted slowly around the unfamiliar room.
this is my home now.
and for the first time since arriving in the scarlet region, the reality of it truly settled into your chest.
the last couple of weeks quickly fell into a repetitive pattern that slowly wore away at your patience no matter how hard you tried to remain understanding about the situation.
every morning you would wake up inside your chambers high within the dark stone walls of the scarlet fortress and ask one of the servants or guards whether the king was available, only to receive the same carefully rehearsed answers in return.
the king was occupied. the king was handling important matters. the king had already left the castle grounds before sunrise.
after hearing those excuses day after day, you eventually stopped asking as often because humiliation started creeping beneath your skin each time another servant avoided your eyes while informing you that your own betrothed apparently had no time for you.
most of your days were spent alone inside your chambers afterward. you ended up reading nearly every single one of the books on your shelves out of sheer boredom.
the books inside the scarlet region were nothing like the gentle romances and elegant poetry collections kept inside the libraries of the emerald empire. these stories were brutal and excessive and strangely honest about the people who lived within this kingdom.
there were tales about ancient wars fought between dragon riders that ended with entire mountainsides collapsing beneath fire and bloodshed. there were stories about barbarian kings who conquered lands with their bare hands and queens who poisoned enemies during feasts. some books were so violent that you occasionally found yourself staring blankly at the pages afterward trying to understand how someone even thought to write such horrifying details.
others were scandalously inappropriate.
one evening you accidentally spent an entire hour reading a story about a warrior taking a noblewoman against a castle wall. one of your handmaidens nearly dropped a tray in shock after realizing what you were reading. afterward she refused to look you directly in the eyes for the rest of the night while you quietly closed the book and pretended not to understand why her face had turned bright red.
still, despite the strange books and lonely silence surrounding most of your days, there was one part of your routine that you genuinely began looking forward to.
eijiro.
the dragon hybrid visited you almost every single day without fail.
sometimes he would arrive during breakfast and keep you company while the two of you ate together inside your chambers. other times he would take you through different sections of the castle while explaining the history behind certain halls and statues carved into the stone walls.
he told stories easily and enthusiastically, often speaking with his hands while his large red wings shifted behind him whenever he became excited.
unlike katsuki, who felt sharp and difficult to approach, eijiro was warm in a way that made conversation come naturally.
he answered your endless questions without irritation.
he explained the volcanoes surrounding the scarlet region and the old traditions involving dragon riders. he told you about battles fought generations ago and pointed out ancient carvings etched into the fortress walls. sometimes he made you laugh without meaning to. sometimes you caught yourself smiling more around him than you had since arriving here.
over time, your nervousness around the hybrid slowly faded.
and if you were being honest with yourself, there were moments where you quietly wondered who exactly you were supposed to be marrying. because while katsuki bakugo remained nothing more than a distant shadow constantly avoiding your presence, eijiro kirishima was the one actually beside you every day.
by the time three weeks had passed since your arrival in the scarlet region, you realized with growing disbelief that your wedding was only a week away.
a single week and yet you still had not properly spoken to katsuki since the first day you arrived. the realization irritated you more than you cared to admit.
that evening you sat in front of the vanity mirror inside your chambers while slowly brushing through your hair with careful strokes. soft firelight flickered across the room while one of your handmaidens prepared fresh oils nearby. you were waiting for eijiro again because he promised earlier that morning he would visit after finishing training with the soldiers.
you had begun expecting him.
which was exactly why surprise shot through you when the chamber doors suddenly burst open hard enough to slam against the stone walls.
your head snapped upward immediately.
katsuki bakugo stood in the doorway.
for a second, the entire room felt painfully still.
his broad figure nearly filled the entrance as firelight danced across his exposed skin and the heavy fur draped around his shoulders. his ash blonde hair looked slightly messy like he had run his hands through it repeatedly and those sharp crimson eyes locked onto yours instantly with an intensity that made your breath catch inside your throat.
it had been weeks since you last saw him.
weeks.
slowly, you stood from your seat before lowering your head respectfully. “my king,” you greeted softly. “what an honor it is to finally be graced by your presence.”
katsuki stared at you for a moment before clicking his tongue. “quit talking like that,” he muttered as he stepped further inside the room. “you sound like one of those damn council fossils.”
you lifted your gaze carefully toward him. “forgive me. i was simply trying to greet my future husband properly.”
“yeah, well, stop it.” he said, and despite his harsh tone, his eyes remained fixed on you far too intensely for comfort.
you slowly set the brush down against the vanity table. “to what do i owe this sudden visit?” you asked calmly. “i assumed you were occupied with your duties… as usual.”
something unreadable flashed across his expression at that.
then you continued before he could answer.
“it has been difficult, i must say. when the king is always occupied with ‘state affairs’ and his right hand is the only one willing to provide a tour of the grounds.”
katsuki’s jaw immediately tightened. “hair-for-brains has been babysitting you?” he asked sharply.
you frowned slightly at the insult. “eijiro has been kind,” you corrected as you stepped away from the vanity. “he told me about the volcanoes, the dragon-kin, the hybrids, and the history of this region. he has been a better guide than my own betrothed.”
a rough laugh escaped katsuki though there was no real amusement behind it. he moved closer until the warmth rolling off his body surrounded you completely. “kirishima’s an idiot who gives away secrets for free,” he scoffed. “if you wanted to know about this kingdom, you should’ve come to the source, not the help.”
your eyebrows lifted slightly. “i tried,” you answered, your voice firmer than expected. “every time i approached your chambers, your guards informed me you were busy breathing fire at your generals. eventually i began wondering if you were hiding something.”
for the briefest second, something shifted across his face. his stare softened just enough to notice before the scowl returned again. “i wasn’t hiding,” he said roughly. “i was preparing. do you have any idea what it takes to merge an emerald seat with a scarlet throne? despite the treaty, the court is looking for a reason to tear you apart the moment you step onto the altar.”
the words struck harder than you expected. your breath caught quietly in your throat and for a moment, you simply stared at him.
you had known this marriage was political from the very beginning. kingdoms did not bind themselves together through royal blood for romance. this union meant trade routes, military alliances, security, power, stability between two lands that could strengthen each other greatly. you understood that. you had been taught that since childhood.
but despite understanding all of that, despite knowing nobles could be cruel and proud and difficult, a part of you still had not expected that there were truly people within this castle who looked at you and saw someone unworthy.
you had crossed an entire continent for this marriage, you had left your home behind, your family, your kingdom, everything familiar, and somewhere within these dark stone halls, there were people waiting for you to fail.
they were watching and judging you, hoping you’d slip and fall and break you neck on the way down.
katsuki reached toward you suddenly, his gloved hand hovered near your chin. for a brief second, it looked as though he intended to touch you. then his jaw tightened sharply and he pulled his hand back with visible irritation, almost seeming angry at himself for the impulse.
“i didn't have time for royal pleasantries,” he growled. “but since you and shitty hair seem to have hit it off so well, i suppose you’ve learned enough to hold your own.”
despite yourself, your lips twitched faintly. “i’ve learned that the king is temperamental, guarded, and apparently very jealous of his second-in-command,” you said softly, tilting your head.
katsuki froze, his eyes widened for the briefest moment before narrowing into dangerous slits, a low sound rumbled from deep in his chest.
it sent a chill crawling down your spine.
“jealous?” he repeated sharply. “don't flatter yourself. i just don't like what’s mine being lectured by a soft-hearted mutt.”
his words made something uncomfortable twist in your chest.
your his property.
slowly, you stepped closer toward him until barely any space remained between your bodies. you could feel the heat radiating from him like fire against your skin.
“is that all i am to you?” you asked quietly. “property?”
katsuki stared down at you, his pupils shifted strangely. the sharp crimson of his eyes darkened until the color looked molten beneath the torchlight.
when he leaned closer, your breath caught, his forehead nearly brushed yours. “you’re a week away from being the queen of the scarlet region,” he said in a low gravelly rasp. “you’re not property, princess.” his gaze dragged across your face slowly, too slowly. “you’re the only thing in this godforsaken fortress that isn't made of ash.”
your heart stumbled painfully inside your chest. before you could respond, he continued.
“and if you think i’ve been busy playing soldier, you’re wrong.” he leaned even closer, close enough that you could feel his breath against your lips. “i’ve been making sure that when you finally walk down that aisle, no one is left alive who thinks they can challenge us.”
us.
“eijiro kept you distracted,” he muttered. “i kept you safe.”
silence filled the room after that.
your mind struggled to keep pace with everything he was saying.
you had thought he hated this arrangement. thought he was avoiding you because he wanted nothing to do with you. yet now he stood before you speaking about protecting you as though it had become his responsibility long before you ever wore his name.
“there are truly people here who oppose me that much?” you asked quietly.
katsuki scoffed. “there are people here who’d oppose the sky if it changed color for too long.” he stepped back slightly before dragging a rough hand through his ash blonde hair.
“the scarlet court is full of old bastards obsessed with bloodlines and strength. you’re foreign, soft, and refined. they think emerald nobles spend more time playing music than surviving winters. despite the benefits this wedding can give our kingdom, they don’t think you’re fit to be queen.”
“that is not true.” your brows furrowed faintly.
“i know that,” he snapped immediately. “they don't.” his jaw clenched again. “they think you’ll break.”
something stubborn rose inside your chest at that. you lifted your chin slightly. “and what do you think?”
his eyes locked onto yours instantly, intensely burning. “i think,” he said slowly, “that anybody who crossed kingdoms to marry into this hellhole without crying halfway through has more spine than half the idiots sitting in my council chamber.”
heat rushed unexpectedly into your face.
before you could answer, katsuki abruptly turned away. “come with me.”
“what?” you blinked.
“you heard me.” he strode toward the door.
confusion crossed your face immediately. “your majesty, where are we going?”
“tch. just move.”
you hesitated only a second before following after him and the moment you reached him, his hand suddenly grabbed yours. your breath caught sharply. his grip was large and rough and overwhelmingly warm around your hand.
before you could react properly, he yanked you forward behind him. “quit dragging me,” you gasped softly.
“quit dragging your feet.”
the chamber doors burst open as he pulled you into the corridor.
the dark halls stretched endlessly ahead, lit by fire torches burning against black stone walls. shadows flickered across the floors as servants quickly moved aside at the sight of the king storming through the castle with his future queen in tow.
you struggled slightly to keep pace with his long strides. “where are we going?” you asked again.
“you ask too many questions.”
“that usually happens when someone drags another person through a castle without explanation.”
he shot you an irritated glance over his shoulder. “you wanted to know why i’ve been busy so badly, right?”
you blinked. “yes…”
“then shut up and keep walking.”
despite his harsh tone, he never let go of your hand, not once. and somehow that fact lingered in your mind more than anything else.
katsuki continued dragging you through the castle halls with long aggressive strides that forced you to keep close behind him if you did not want to stumble over the hem of your dress. his hand remained wrapped tightly around yours, rough and calloused from years of swordsmanship and battle, his warmth almost startling against your softer skin.
you tried not to stare too openly at everything around you, but it was difficult. the scarlet region fascinated you. even after weeks of exploring with eijiro it still felt foreign to you.
your eyes drifted upward as you noticed enormous carvings etched into the high ceilings.
“those are incredible,” you murmured softly.
katsuki glanced upward briefly before grunting. “hm.”
you looked back at him. “what do they mean?”
“they’re old carvings.”
“i can see that.”
his eyes flickered toward you and for a second, you thought you caught amusement there, almost hidden. “smart mouth,” he muttered.
“i was simply asking.” you blinked innocently at him.
he clicked his tongue before finally answering. “they tell the story of the first kings. every ruler in the scarlet region traces their bloodline back to them.”
you looked back toward the carvings again with interest. the dragons were enormous in the stone art, wings spread wide across the ceiling while warriors stood beneath them holding weapons toward the sky.
“so the real dragons did come first?”
“obviously.”
“you do realize not everyone grew up here, yes?”
“annoying.” he let out a sharp exhale through his nose. despite the insult, he still answered. “before the kingdoms were built, dragon ruled these mountains. then people started worshipping them. eventually the strongest warriors bonded with them.”
“bonded?” your eyes widened slightly.
“dragon pacts.” his grip tightened faintly around your hand as he continued leading you down another hallway. “some humans formed bonds with dragon-kind. loyalty for loyalty. strength for strength.”
your thoughts immediately drifted toward eijiro. “is that why hybrids exist?”
“partly.”
“you sound reluctant to explain.” you looked at him curiously.
“because you ask too many damn questions.”
“and yet you keep answering them.”
he shot you another look over his shoulder. this time you definitely saw it, the corner of his mouth twitched. gone almost immediately.
he’s enjoying this.
you followed him down a massive staircase leading deeper into another section of the castle. the air grew warmer the lower you went, enough that you could feel heat brushing against your skin.
“why is it hotter here?” you asked.
“lava tunnels under the mountain.”
your eyes widened. “there is lava beneath the castle?”
“we’re built into a volcanic mountain, princess. what did you think was under us?”
you stared at him. “rocks?”
he barked out a laugh suddenly, a real one. rough and sharp but genuine enough that it echoed through the corridor. “unbelievable.”
heat crept into your cheeks at the sound. you had not expected him to laugh, especially not because of you.
the two of you continued walking until the hallway opened into a massive chamber lined with weapons mounted against the walls. swords. axes. spears. shields. some looked old enough to belong in museums while others appeared freshly sharpened.
you slowed immediately. “this is beautiful.”
“it’s an armory.” katsuki snorted.
you stepped closer toward one of the blades hanging on the wall. the sword was massive, far larger than anything you had ever seen used back home.
“people actually fight with these?” you asked.
“what the hell do you think they’re for?” he spat, his eyebrows furrowing as he spoke.
you glanced at him carefully. “you truly speak as though every question pains you.”
“because half your questions have obvious answers.”
“for you, perhaps.”
he stared at you for a moment before crossing his arms over his bare chest. “you really know nothing about this place.”
there was no mockery in his voice this time. only observation.
you looked down briefly. “i was taught about diplomacy between kingdoms and trade agreements and court etiquette. not weapons and volcanoes and dragon pacts.”
silence settled between you for a brief moment.
then katsuki spoke again, quieter this time. “that explains a lot.”
“what does that mean?” you looked back at him.
he shrugged. “you walk around this place looking at everything like you got dropped into another world.”
“perhaps i did.”
his gaze lingered on your face longer than necessary. you felt suddenly aware of how close he stood, how large he was compared to you, and how intense his eyes became whenever he looked directly at you.
your fingers tightened slightly around the fabric of your dress, trying to steady yourself before you cleared your throat softly. “what are scarlet region weddings like?”
“why?” katsuki’s brows furrowed immediately.
“because i’m marrying you in a week.” you said with an obvious tone of sarcasm.
“unfortunate for you.”
you ignored that as you asked again. “i would like to know what to expect.”
he sighed dramatically before leaning against one of the stone pillars nearby. “there’s a ceremony.”
you waited for more, but he stared back blankly.
“…that tells me nothing.”
“there’s fire. vows. drinking. fighting.”
your eyes widened. “fighting?”
“friendly fighting.”
“those are two words that should not belong together.”
“depends who you ask.” he shrugged.
you could not help the quiet laugh that escaped you.
katsuki’s eyes flickered toward your mouth immediately at the sound. you noticed it again and suddenly forgot how to breathe correctly for a second.
“what about emerald empire weddings?” he asked abruptly.
you blinked at the sudden question. “ours are more formal.”
“sounds boring already.” katsuki rolled his eyes as if he regrets asking.
“there is music and dancing.”
“boring.”
“poetry readings.”
he looked at you, horrified.
you smiled despite yourself. “decorated gardens.”
“if anybody forced me into a garden for my own wedding i’d burn it down.” he said, his expression tight as if he was already picturing it in his head.
you laughed at the look on his face while katsuki stared at you like he had never heard that sound before, like he wanted to keep hearing it. the realization made warmth spread slowly across your chest.
maybe he truly was avoiding me because he did not know what to do with me.
and somehow that thought felt far more dangerous than hatred ever could have been.
a week passed after your walk through the castle with katsuki, and somewhere within those seven days, something between the two of you shifted. it was not a dramatic shift. there had been no grand confession or sudden tenderness that transformed him into a different man overnight.
katsuki bakugo remained exactly who he was. he was still rough around the edges, still aggressive in the way he spoke, still impatient whenever somebody irritated him which happened often enough that you were beginning to think irritation was simply his natural state of being.
but despite that, things changed.
he was still busy constantly buried beneath matters of court and military discussions and whatever else dragged the dragon king away for hours at a time, but now he made space for you within those busy days.
sometimes he would appear at your chambers without warning only to stay for a few moments.
you would be seated near the fire reading one of the strange books from the scarlet region shelves when the door would suddenly swing open, revealing katsuki standing there with his arms crossed over his chest.
“what are you reading?”
you had looked up in surprise the first time it happened. “a history book.”
he narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “why?”
“because i enjoy learning.”
“sounds miserable.”
yet he still walked over and glanced down at the pages resting in your lap before grunting.
another time, he had appeared during your evening meal and simply sat down across from you without invitation. you remembered staring at him while servants awkwardly scrambled to bring another plate.
“your majesty?”
“what?”
“you are in my chambers.”
“obviously.”
then he started eating your food as though he had always belonged there.
sometimes he barely spoke during those visits. he would simply sit nearby while you read or embroidered or drank tea. strangely enough, the silence never felt uncomfortable.
other times, he joined you and eijiro during your walks through the castle grounds.
those were perhaps your favorite moments.
eijiro would be speaking enthusiastically about some story from his childhood only for katsuki to suddenly appear beside the two of you with an irritated scowl already on his face.
“why the hell are you telling her that story again?” katsuki would ask.
“because she likes hearing it,” eijiro would laugh.
“your stories are stupid.”
“you listened to all of them too.”
“shut up.”
yet he would stay, always.
and slowly, without realizing it, you started learning him in pieces.
you learned that he hated overly sweet wine but liked stronger drinks that burned your throat. you learned that he became quieter whenever he was exhausted instead of louder. you learned that although he complained constantly, he still noticed everything around him with sharp frightening precision. you learned that whenever he was thinking deeply, his fingers tapped against whatever surface was nearest. you learned that he looked at you intensely even during moments when he thought you were not paying attention.
and before you fully realized it, the day of your wedding arrived.
you stood outside the massive doors leading toward the throne hall with your heart pounding heavily inside your chest. the halls around you glowed with torchlight while distant music echoed through the stone corridors.
your wedding dress felt heavier than anything you had ever worn before.
scarlet region wedding attire differed greatly from the soft flowing gowns worn in the emerald empire. instead of delicate fabrics and flowers, your gown was designed like something worthy of a queen standing beside a warrior king.
the dress clung tightly around your torso with dark crimson fabric embroidered with thin golden threads shaped like dragon scales. the sleeves draped long around your arms while black sheer fabric layered beneath the heavier crimson silk. gold chains decorated your waist and hips, hanging against the fabric with tiny ruby stones attached to them that caught the firelight whenever you moved.
the neckline dipped lower than dresses from your homeland normally allowed, exposing the tops of your collarbones where matching gold jewelry rested against your skin. even your veil was different. instead of white lace, dark red fabric trailed behind you like smoke.
you barely recognized yourself.
then, the massive doors slowly opened and heat rushed into the hall immediately.
inside, the throne room had transformed completely. huge fires burned from enormous iron braziers positioned throughout the chamber while crimson banners hung from the towering walls. drums echoed loudly through the room in a deep steady rhythm that vibrated through your chest. warriors stood lining the aisle holding torches while musicians played harsh beautiful melodies from instruments unfamiliar to you.
this was nothing like emerald empire weddings filled with soft music and flower petals.
before you knew it, you were walking down the aisle and all eyes turned toward you immediately. the eyes of court katsuki’s councilmen, foreign guests from distant lands, warriors dressed in heavy armor, and nobles covered in jewels and furs.
you spotted katsuki’s parents seated near the front. the former king looked relaxed despite the importance of the ceremony while his wife sat beside him watching everything sharply. you had met them during your first week in the scarlet region and quickly realized katsuki had inherited more from his mother than his father. mitsuki bakugo possessed the same fierce presence as her son though hers carried far more control.
your gaze shifted toward the opposite side where your own family sat. your mother already looked emotional, clearly trying not to cry. your father sat tall with pride written across his face. your older brother, however, looked like he was considering starting a war simply to drag you back home.
you almost smiled. when your eyes met his, you gave him a reassuring look.
i’m alright.
slowly, your attention moved again, then you spotted eijiro.
the dragon hybrid stood near the front dressed in dark ceremonial armor lined with crimson detailing. the moment he saw you looking toward him, his entire face lit up with the biggest grin.
it was so warm and genuine that you nearly laughed. you quickly hid the smile threatening your lips before finally looking ahead.
and there he was.
katsuki.
your future husband stood waiting near the throne platform.
for once, his chest was not bare. instead, he wore ceremonial battle robes made from black and deep crimson fabric layered with pieces of dark armor over his shoulders and forearms. fur lined the heavy cape hanging behind him while gold clasps shaped like dragon claws held it together across his chest. thick leather belts wrapped around his waist where a dagger rested beside an ornate sword.
he looked terrifying, beautifully terrifying.
his vermillion eyes locked onto yours instantly and as you approached him, you noticed his gaze slowly travel over your body, from your face, to your dress, to the jewelry against your skin, then back to your eyes again.
the look in his expression made heat crawl into your cheeks.
the ceremony began shortly after.
instead of gentle vows spoken softly between lovers, scarlet region traditions felt almost ritualistic.
the officiant stood before a massive fire while chanting ancient words in the old tongue of the region. wine was poured into ceremonial goblets. your hands and katsuki’s were bound together briefly with crimson cloth symbolizing unity through blood and kingdom.
through most of it, you barely listened because katsuki kept staring at you, and somehow, you realized you were staring back just as much.
the rest of the room blurred around you. time itself felt strange and distant. until finally the officiant spoke again.
“seal this union beneath fire and blood.”
eyes widened slightly and before you could even fully process the words, katsuki suddenly grabbed the back of your neck. a sharp breath escaped you then he pulled you toward him.
his lips crashed against yours.
the kiss stole every coherent thought from your mind instantly.
he kissed you firmly without hesitation, one hand gripping the back of your neck while the other settled against your waist. heat flooded through your entire body as his mouth moved against yours with rough confidence that left your knees weak beneath the heavy layers of your gown.
oh gods.
your fingers instinctively grabbed the front of his ceremonial robes. you could hear distant cheering erupting around the throne room, but it sounded muffled beneath the pounding of your heartbeat.
when he finally pulled away, your lips tingled painfully, you stared at him completely stunned. katsuki’s eyes looked darker somehow, his thumb brushed briefly against your waist before he stepped back.
the celebration afterward became a blur of noise and firelight and endless drinking.
true to scarlet region tradition, there were fights just like katsuki mentioned.
warriors and duelists stepped into the center arena one after another while crowds roared around them.
sero hanta from katsuki’s inner circle defeated one soldier after a brutal sword fight that ended with both men bleeding and laughing. denki kaminari won his own match shortly afterward while shouting obnoxiously toward cheering spectators.
eijiro fought next.
you found yourself watching in amazement as the dragon hybrid moved with terrifying strength and speed before ultimately defeating his opponent.
then came katsuki.
the entire room seemed to erupt when the king stepped forward. his opponent looked almost honored to stand across from him.
the fight started with swords.
metal clashed violently beneath roaring cheers while sparks flew from each impact. katsuki fought like something feral unleashed into battle. he was aggressive, brutal, and overwhelming.
eventually the swords were discarded. then they were on the ground beating each other bloody.
you sat perfectly composed at the royal table, but beneath it, your hands gripped tightly against your dress. stress twisted painfully in your chest.
suddenly, warmth covered one of your hands.
you looked beside yourself and found eijiro smiled reassuringly at you. “don’t worry,” he said gently. “katsuki’ll be fine. i’ve seen him survive worse.”
you swallowed slightly. “that is not comforting.”
he laughed softly. “when we were sixteen he fought three mountain raiders at once after getting stabbed in the shoulder.”
“what?” your eyes widened in horror.
“he won.”
“that really does not make it better.”
eijiro grinned at your expression of worry.
your eyes shifted back toward the fight where katsuki slammed the other man hard into the ground making you winced. “besides… it’s not him i’m worried about,” you admitted quietly.
eijiro blinked before immediately understanding, then he chuckled. “ah.”
you looked at him helplessly. “that poor soldier.”
“trust me, he’s honored.”
you stared at him incredulously, not entirely sure what to reply to his reassurance.
eijiro leaned closer slightly before explaining. “in the scarlet region, it’s tradition to fight for the person you love.”
your brows furrowed.
he nodded toward the arena. “me and the others fought earlier because we’re unwedded. it’s meant to show strength, protection, and devotion for our future partners.” then he looked toward katsuki. “but katsuki’s fight is different.”
“different how?” your stomach tightened.
eijiro’s smile softened. “the longer the fight goes and the more blood he draws from his opponent, the deeper the devotion is believed to be.”
you froze completely.
eijiro continued quietly. “he’s fighting for you, my queen.”
shock rushed through you instantly. you had never heard of this tradition before, never read about it, never learned it during your lessons back home. yet suddenly everything felt different watching katsuki fight down there beneath roaring firelight.
every brutal strike, every drop of blood, every second that continued was for you.
eventually the soldier finally collapsed from exhaustion and blood loss.
the room erupted into cheers.
breathing heavily, katsuki straightened before immediately turning his head toward you, his eyes locked onto yours across the hall then slowly, a smirk twitched against the corner of his mouth. he walked directly toward you afterward. you noticed the blood that stained his knuckles, his lip was split slightly, yet he looked almost pleased with himself.
once he reached the table, he dropped into the seat beside you and threw one arm casually across the back of your chair. “you look pale,” he said.
you stared at him. “you nearly killed that man.”
“he’ll live.”
“why does everything think that’s comforting?” you replied back.
he snorted then his eyes dragged slowly across your face. “you watched the whole thing?”
you swallowed softly. “…yes.”
“good.” his smirk deepened slightly.
the grand hall roared with celebration, the air thick with smoke from roasted meats, the bitter tang of ale, and the deafening clash of warriors re-enacting battles for entertainment.
you sat at the high table, your new husband beside you, a solid, immovable presence. katsuki downed the last bit of his wine, a deep, dark scarlet that matched the banners of his kingdom. he swallowed it like it was water, not savoring it, just consuming it. the heavy goblet clunked onto the wooden table.
then his arm, which had been draped loosely around the back of your chair, moved. his hand landed on your shoulder, a firm, heavy pat. once. twice. a third time, each impact a little heavier, a little more deliberate.
your shoulder tingled under the weight.
he stood up. the noise in the hall seemed to dip for a moment, the crowd’s attention shifting to their king. he held his hand out for you, palm open, fingers curled slightly while you looked at his hand, confused.
the festivities were still raging. it was relatively still early. then you turned your head to meet his eyes. dark red, like cooled lava, intense and utterly focused on you. in that instant, the confusion evaporated, replaced by a cold, clear understanding that rushed from your head down to your toes.
it was time. your duty. the consummation.
your fingers, trembling slightly, reached out and grabbed his hand. his grip was instantaneous, tight, almost crushing as he pulled you to stand. you rose, your wedding gown suddenly felt like a ridiculous, fragile costume.
as you stood, you noticed katsuki’s eyes flick to eijiro who sat on your other side, giving him a quick knowing look.
eijiro’s smile faded into a serious nod, his own crimson eyes understanding. they seemed to speak without words, a silent communication that made your eyebrows furrow.
what did that mean? what had they planned?
but before you could dwell, katsuki was pulling you away from the table, his stride long and purposeful. he didn’t walk with you; he dragged you.
your hand was captive in his, and he led you through the archway out of the hall, into the colder, darker corridors of the castle. the warmth and noise of the feast died behind you, swallowed by the silence of the passageways.
katsuki looked intense, his profile sharp in the torchlight. his jaw was set, his brows slightly lowered. he didn’t look at you as he walked, his focus was on the path ahead, on getting to where he needed to be.
silence filled the space between you, thick and heavy. it wasn’t peaceful. it was a tension that crawled over your skin, a prickling awareness of where you were headed, of what was about to happen in the dark, private heart of his domain.
he didn’t lead you to the wing where your chambers had been for the past few weeks. he turned down a different corridor, one guarded by two massive stone dragons carved into the archway. he stopped before a door of dark, aged oak reinforced with iron bands.
“this is my chambers,” he said, his voice a low rumble in the quiet hall. “now it’s ours. i had the servants move your things here this afternoon.” his tone was matter-of-fact, final. there was no discussion. this was where you would live… with him.
katsuki opened the door. it swung inward without a sound.
you were met with a room similar in structure to your old one but vastly different in spirit. it was bigger, dominated by a massive bed with a dark wood frame and black linens. the air smelled like him—like smoke, leather, and something wild. weapons lay around not as decoration, but as tools temporarily set aside: a sword on a table, its edge gleaming; a pair of axes leaning against a chest; pieces of armor on a stand. scrolls and maps were piled haphazardly.
it was chaotic, masculine, and utterly his.
“it’s very… you,” you said softly, stepping inside after him.
“it’s a fucking room,” he grunted, closing the door behind you. the click of the latch was loud in the silence. “it serves its purpose.”
you turned to face him, now alone in the intimate space. the tension from the corridors condensed here, in the few feet of space between you. he finally looked at you directly, his sharp eyes sweeping over your body in the elaborate dress.
“you wore this shit all day,” he stated, not a question. “must be heavy.”
“they told me it is the traditional gown of the scarlet region for a royal wedding,” you replied, your voice gentle. “they told me it represents power and prosperity.”
“it represents a lot of fucking fabric,” he said, a slight, sharp smirk touching his lips. “you look… good in it. but i’ll prefer you without it.”
your cheeks warmed at his blunt words. you didn’t know how to respond to such directness.
he stepped closer, until you were face to face. his warmth radiated against you. one of his calloused hands came up to gently play with a strand of your hair that had escaped its intricate styling.
the contrast was startling, the brute king touching you with such deliberate softness.
“do you know what’s about to happen now, hm?” he asked, his voice lower, gravelly.
you swallowed, your eyes wide. “i-i know my duty to my husband,” you whispered. “to… consummate the marriage. to bond both our kingdoms.”
his fingers continued their slow movement through your hair. “duty. bond.” he snorted softly. “i may be a brute, princess. i may be have a temper and called a barbarian. but i won’t do anything to you if you’re not ready.” the words were gruff, but the meaning underneath was startlingly clear.
he was giving you a choice, within the cage of this marriage.
your body reacted to his soft touches. a shiver went down your spine that wasn’t entirely fear. your eyes closed for a moment, feeling the rough texture of his fingers against the sensitive skin of your neck, behind your ear.
it was soothing and terrifying all at once.
you opened your eyes to find him watching your face intently, studying every flicker of reaction.
“i… i want to,” you promised him, your voice timid but clear. “i am ready.”
a low sound, like a grumble of satisfaction, emanated from his chest. his eyes darkened, shifting from assessing to predatory. his fingers left your hair and traced down your shoulder to the back of your gown, finding the complex laces of the corset.
“you love learning, right? reading those historical books,” he said, his voice now a seductive murmur as his fingers began to work the first lace. “so learn this. in the scarlet region, we don’t consummate marriages like they do in other kingdoms. it’s not clinical. it’s not prude.”
another lace loosened.
your breath hitched as the structure of the dress began to give way.
“they call us brutes. barbarians.” another lace. “and they’re right.” the final lace came free with a soft pull. “we fuck like animals. and tonight, i will make sure every single morsel and peasant in this kingdom knows what we’re doing. i won’t hold back.”
you shivered as his words washed over you, crude and thrilling.
the last of the fabric, freed from its bindings, pooled around your legs and slid to the floor with a whisper of silk. you stood before him, bare except for the delicate necklaces on your neck.
his eyes raked over your body, no longer obscured. his gaze was hot, possessive, and utterly focused. his warm, calloused hands followed his eyes, roaming everywhere—your shoulders, the curve of your waist, the outside of your thighs. his touch was firm, mapping you.
your breathing became uneven, shallow as you watched him.
“fuck,” he breathed out, the word almost reverent in its roughness. “look at you.”
then he grabbed you, not gently. his hands hauled you into his arms, your bare body pressing against the warm fabric of his attire. you felt the hard planes of his chest, the muscles of his arms. for a second, you were enveloped in his scent and strength before he threw you onto the bed. you landed on the black linens with a soft gasp, the cool fabric against your skin.
he hovered over you, still fully clothed, a giant silhouetted against the torchlight.
his eyes grew darker, hungrier. he didn’t bother with ceremony. his own clothes were removed with swift, efficient movements, the ornate jacket torn off, the shirt pulled over his head and discarded carelessly on the ground, the trousers shoved down and kicked away until he was bare like you.
you shyly eyed his body from where you lay on the bed. he was… gorgeous. carved from muscle, scars mapping old battles across his skin.
“see something you like, huh?” he growled, noticing your wide-eyed look.
“you’re… very b-big,” you whispered, your politeness clinging to you even in this raw moment.
“ha! damn right i am,” he said as he moved onto the bed, kneeling between your legs. his hands pushed your thighs apart, making you shyly whine at the sudden exposure.
your palms came up to push against his chest lightly, a reflexive gesture of modesty. “i… i haven’t done anything like this before,” you confessed softly, your eyes pleading for understanding.
katsuki’s eyes softened for a fleeting moment. he leaned down, not entering you, but lifting himself up to kiss you.
it wasn’t a gentle kiss.
his lips crashed onto yours, hot and demanding. his tongue invaded your mouth, a battle you couldn’t hope to win but were compelled to join. there were bites; sharp nips on your lower lip that made you gasp, and shared spit, and breaths that grew ragged. you whined into his mouth, small sounds of overwhelm that only spurred him on. he groaned, a deep sound from his chest, and the wrestling of tongues was wet, messy, and utterly intoxicating.
“gonna taste every part of you, wife,” he muttered against your lips before breaking away.
he moved down your body, his hands holding your hips firmly. his mouth found your core, and he didn’t hesitate. he ate you out with the same aggressive dedication he did everything else. his tongue was relentless, exploring, licking, pushing inside you while grunted against your skin.
“so fucking sweet… like a prize… all mine…”
“s-shit—oh! katsuki… so g-good…” you moaned, a high, shaky sound.
katsuki groaned in between your thighs, his mouth moving messily on your mound, swishing vibrations through you that amplified the pleasure he was already giving you.
your body writhed on the bed from the shocking, unprecedented sensations crashing through you. your hands gripped the black sheets. you were confused by what you were feeling; this building, tightening coil of pleasure deep inside you, something you had no name for.
“i… f-feel—nghh…” you gasped.
“let go,” katsuki commanded, his voice thick. “just let go for me.”
and you did.
the coil snapped, and a wave of intense pleasure broke over you, making you arch off the bed with a sharp cry. he kept working you through it until you collapsed back onto the linens, trembling.
he moved back up, his body aligning with yours. his cock, heavy and hard, pressed against your slit.
“i can’t fucking wait any longer. i need to be inside you… been wanting you since i laid eyes on you,” he said, his voice dark with promise. “i’m gonna enter you now and you’re gonna take all of me like a good wife, hm?”
you were delirious in pleasure. just from that one orgasm, you felt indescribable pleasure from your husband. slowly but surely, you wanted everything and anything he was willing to give you. “p-please.” you begged.
katsuki glided his cock into you slowly, an inch at a time. you moaned at the intrusion, a mix of pleasure from before and the new, stretching feeling. he grunted, his own control evident in the slow pace.
“so f-fuuucking tight… wrapping around me like a damn vice…” he breathed.
you held onto him, your arms around his shoulders as he slowly inched deeper until he was fully seated inside you. it was a fullness that stole your breath, gasping as you clutched onto him. “ha—”
“painful?” he asked, his eyes searching yours.
“a little… but… it’s fading,” you whined softly. “p-please… move.”
“how can i deny such an honest plea?” katsuki teased, chuckling at your expression before he began to move.
his thrusts started slow but quickly gained speed and force. he fucked you on your back with a driving rhythm that shook the bed frame. each thrust punched a moan or a whine from your lips.
“oh! ah—ngh… s’good.” you threw your head back.
“such a good little wife… taking her king so perfectly…” he growled, his praise landing on you like a brand, making you cling to him tighter.
he paused for a moment, looking down at where your bodies joined. “fuck… you’re so small… made for me…” his thrusts became deeper, more harder. “gonna fill you up… gonna put my heirs right in here.” his desire was raw in his words, each slam of his hips a promise of possession beyond tonight.
“katsuki… please!” you begged, your nails clawing down his back.
“please what? need more, huh? you gonna cum again fro me?” katsuki groaned as he continued to plow into you.
“i… i don’t know—f-fuck!” you bit down on his shoulder as you ground up at him, meeting his thrusts.
“you do know, baby. feel it. come undone for me again.” katsuki nipped at your ear.
and you did, another peak crashing over you as he drove into you relentlessly, his own release following with a roar that echoed in the dark chamber, filling you with his cum as he collapsed atop you, breathing heavily into your neck.
but he didn’t stop.
the moment your second orgasm faded into tremors, katsuki kept driving into you, his hips setting a brutal, possessive rhythm that stole the air from your lungs. each thrust was a deep, claiming slam that made the bedposts creak in protest.
“k-katsuki…” you moaned, the name a broken sound on your lips. your hands scrambled against his sweat-slicked back, fingers digging into the hard muscle.
“that’s it, we’re not done yet. just like that, baby—oh, fuck,” he grunted, his voice rough with strain and pleasure. “moan for me. let the whole fucking castle know who you belong to.” his own moans were guttural that vibrated through his chest into yours. “so fucking good. taking me like you were made for it…”
katsuki’s hands, which had been braced on either side of your head, slid down to grasp your thighs. his calloused palms caressed the soft skin of your legs as he held them open, his grip firm, almost bruising in its intensity. he used that leverage to pound into you harder, deeper.
you arched off the bed, a sharp whine tearing from your throat as he hit a spot inside you that sparked white behind your eyelids. “right there… oh, gods, right there!” you sobbed.
“i know. found your sweet spot, huh? that feel good?” he growled, a smirk in his tone. “i feel you clenching around me, princess. greedy little thing.”
the sound of your bodies meeting was obscenely wet, a rhythmic slap of skin on skin that underscored every groan and whimper.
then, with a sudden, powerful shift, he manhandled you. his hands left your thighs to grip your waist, and in one fluid, dominant motion, he flipped the two of you around. you gasped as the world spun, finding yourself straddling him, his cock still buried impossibly deep inside you. the new position made you feel him even more profoundly, every inch of him stretching you.
“ah! fuck!” you moaned, eyes wide, hands flying to his chest to steady yourself.
“look at you,” he rasped, his vermillion eyes blazing up at you. “riding your king as if you’re riding a dragon yourself. so fucking perfect for me.” his hands settled on your hips, thumbs stroking the bone. “c’mon. show me what my good little wife can do.”
you were obedient, eager to please. tentatively, you lifted yourself up, a slow, trembling movement that made you both moan as he slid partially out. then you lowered yourself back down, sheathing him fully, a grunt punched from his lips.
“fuck yes. that’s it… just like that,” he praised, his eyes watching your face with a dark, satisfied smirk. your expression was one of overwhelmed bliss, mouth slightly open, eyes glazed. he cooed at you, the sound strangely tender coming from him. “such a pretty queen. taking her king so well. now… set the pace f’me.”
your confidence grew with his constant praise. you started to bounce on him, slowly at first, then faster, finding a rhythm. each descent made your breath hitch, each rise brought a needy whine. your arched your back, your hair spilling over your shoulders.
“katsuki… it’s so… i feel so full…” you whimpered.
“you are full,” he agreed, his voice thick. “full of me. and you look so fucking small wrapped around me… perfect fit.” his lust for you bled into the words, the awe in his gaze as he looked at where your bodies joined.
but the heat from the friction on your inner thighs began to burn, making you slow your movements with a pout and a soft whine of discomfort.
katsuki chuckled, a low, rumbling sound. “tired already? my delicate little flower.” he cooed at you, his thumbs still caressing your hips. “it’s okay. let me help, hm?”
instead of bouncing, you began to grind on him out of desperation. circular motion drew a deep groan from him. then you leaned forward, collapsing against his chest, tucking your face into the hot skin of his neck. you were surrounded by his scent, his heat, and it was intoxicating.
“please… please, katsuki,” you begged, your voice muffled against him. “i need—fuck… i don’t know what i need anymore… need more.”
“shhh,” he cooed, one hand cupping the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair. the other stayed on your hip, possessive. “i know what you need.”
katsuki planted his feet firmly on the bed, gaining leverage. and then, with a single, powerful beat of his hips, he started ramming up into you. he was fucking up into you from below, each upward thrust spearing you deeply, knocking the air from your lungs.
“ah—ngh… yes! right there!” you shrieked, a sound of pure, unadulterated pleasure. your moans and whines became a continuous stream against his neck.
“just let me do all the work,” he grunted, his own breathing becoming ragged. “a king serves his queen… especially in bed.” his thrusts were relentless, powerful pistons driving you up and down on his cock even as you lay pliant against him. you were putty in his hands, letting him use your body exactly as he wanted, your face hidden in the safety of his neck.
the sounds filled the room; his guttural grunts, your high-pitched whimpers, the wet slap of his hips meeting yours, the creak of the bed, the filth coming out of your husband’s mouth. it was sinful.
“gonna breed you so deep—fuck—fill this perfect cunt with my heirs… mark you inside and out…”
your only replies were broken syllables, your desire for his praise making you sing with every rough compliment.
katsuki’s thrusts started becoming erratic, sloppy, losing their military precision as his own peak approached.
“i’m close… fuck, I’m so close,” you whined, your body tightening around him.
“i am too,” he gasped, his voice strained. he pulled back just enough to look at your face.
your expression was one of utterly ruined bliss. your eyebrows were drawn together, lips swollen and parted, eyes half-lidded and hazy. you looked so pretty to him, so perfectly claimed.
katsuki leaned up and placed a sudden, soft kiss on your forehead, a shocking gesture of tenderness amidst the carnal frenzy.
you clutched at his biceps, your nails biting into his skin. “k-katsuki… i’m gonna…”
he grunted, and with effort, he stopped thrusting.
before you could even whine in complaint at the denied release, his arms were scooping you up. katsuki stood from the bed in one powerful motion, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as you clung to him, his cock still buried to the hilt inside you.
“wh-what…?” you gasped, startled.
“tch. patience,” he growled, his own need evident in the tension of his body.
he gripped your thighs firmly, his hands huge and warm. and then he began to move you himself, bouncing you on his cock as he stood there, using the strength of his arms and the leverage of his stance to fuck you onto him.
the thought of it… of him manhandling you so easily, picking you up and using your body like this, made you physically shiver. that shiver traveled inward, making your inner walls clench tightly around him, which drew a ragged groan from his throat.
“fuck… you just got tighter,” he breathed, his pace increasing. “you like that? like when i just take what’s mine and use you?”
“yes… yes, i do like it. please… i’m close again, katsuki, please—ha…” you begged, your head falling back.
katsuki hummed, coaxing you over the edge. “give me another one, my good girl. cum again for your king and i’ll give you a reward.”
that promise, coupled with the overwhelming sensation of being fucked in mid-air by your powerful husband, was too much. a coil tightened deep in your belly, winding to its breaking point.
“shit! i’m—fuck, i’m…!”
“that’s it. let go,” he commanded.
“k-katsuki…” you whine, the sound muffled, as another wave of sensitivity makes you clench around him, where he’s still buried deep inside you.
a low, guttural groan vibrates through his chest and into yours. “fuck,” he rasps, his voice wrecked. one large, calloused hand comes up to cup the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your disheveled hair.
“gonna make you cum again. come on, baby. come undone for me again. you want to, don’t you?”
you nod frantically, a desperate little mewl escaping you as you moved desperately up and down on him.
“say it.”
“yes—cum… gonna cum f’you. only you.”
he smirks, that feral, triumphant curl of his lips while his free hand grips your hip, fingers digging in, helping you find a rolling rhythm even as he holds you locked to him. the sound of your slick skin meeting his, the wet slap of each movement, fills the heavy air of the chamber, mingling with his grunts and your broken cries.
“so good for me.” thrust. “so fuckin’ tight.” thrust. “all mine.” thrust. “gonna keep you full of me.” thrust. “always.” thrust. “breed you so deep you’ll feel it for days.” thrust.
when the next orgasm rips through you, it’s slower, deeper, a molten unspooling that has you sobbing into his mouth, your body seizing around him in rhythmic pulses. he follows you over with a sharp, choked-off roar, his hips jerking up to bury himself to the hilt as he spills hot inside you, his grip on your hair tightening almost painfully.
before you can even form a coherent thought, he’s capturing your mouth again. this kiss is messy, sloppy, all hungry tongue and possessive pressure. it’s wet and it steals the air from your lungs. you can taste yourself on him, salty and sweet.
he pulls his head back just a few inches, his eyes blazing down at you, pupils blown wide with lust. his lips are swollen, his breathing harsh. “look at you,” he growls, the words rough with awe. “my perfect little wife. took me so damn well. fuckin’ gorgeous f’me.”
katsuki nuzzles into your hair, his lips brushing your temple. his voice is a low, satiated rumble. “since you’ve been so good… so obedient… you get your prize.”
prize? oh yeah, he said something about a prize. your hazy mind struggles to comprehend.
you feel him shift beneath you, still intimately connected, as he lifts his gaze from the top of your head to the chamber door.
“ei. get in here.”
your entire body goes rigid. confusion floods you, cutting through the blissful fog. your eyes fly open, wide and bewildered, staring at the carved wood of the door.
eijiro? as in kirishima? now? why? while we’re… we’re like this…!
“katsuki?” your voice is small, trembling. “what are you talking about?”
the door swings open silently. and there he is.
eijiro kirishima fills the doorway, his broad shoulders nearly touching the frame, his chest bare, the hard planes of his abdomen and the dark trail of hair leading downward on full display. his crimson eyes, usually so warm and friendly, are dark, intense, and they lock onto the two of you immediately… onto you, specifically.
was he outside this entire time?
you feel the burn of his gaze like a physical touch, sweeping over katsuki’s hands on your bare skin, over the curve of your spine, over the intimate join of your bodies.
a hot, shameful flush explodes across your face and chest. you try to shrink further into katsuki, but he’s already moving, walking with you still impaled on him, one arm hooked under your thighs. he walks you both towards eijiro, and the casual display of his strength makes your head spin.
“i’m not stupid,” katsuki says, nonchalant as if he wasn’t still buried inside you. he stops a few feet from eijiro. “saw the way he looked at you for weeks. like you were water in a desert. and you…” he glances down at you, his smirk deepening. “you greedy little thing got attached to your friendly dragon babysitter, didn’t you? spoiled princess.”
your heart hammers against your ribs. “i didn’t—i didn’t mean to make you feel—”
katsuki cuts you off with a low chuckle, his free hand stroking a soothing line down your sweat-damp back. “shh-shh. you didn’t do a damn thing wrong, princess. you just… showed me something.” his eyes slide back to eijiro, hungry and possessive. “showed me what turns my blood to fuckin’ fire. the depravity of it. the idea of him,” he thrusts up shallowly, making you gasp, “wanting what’s mine. touching what’s mine.”
he shifts his gaze fully to eijiro. “i’m right, aren’t i?”
eijiro’s eyes haven’t left you. a slow, deep hum resonates in his chest, a sound more beast than man. “i am bound to you, my king,” he says, his voice thicker, rougher than you’ve ever heard it. “my life is yours. my loyalty.” his tongue darts out to wet his lips. “and what is yours… is yours to command.”
katsuki’s grin is all sharp edges and dark promise. he looks down at you again, his expression turning curious. “so? is it okay with you, my greedy baby? if i share you? if he gets to have a taste of what belongs to me?”
the question is so blunt, so shockingly crude, that your mind blanks. but your body betrays you instantly. a violent, involuntary clench around katsuki’s still hard length, a fresh trickle of wetness that has nothing to do with fear.
katsuki grunts, his head throwing back with a sharp hiss. “fuck! see that, shitty hair?” he says, talking about you as if you weren’t clinging to him. “got even tighter just hearing it. her pretty little cunt’s begging for it.”
“seems eager to please,” eijiro murmurs, taking a step closer. the heat radiating from his body rivals katsuki’s.
“she’s a good girl,” katsuki agrees, his voice dropping to a coaxing rumble directly in your ear. “aren’t you? can you be good for me, hm? for us?”
the choice is no choice at all. not with katsuki’s seed still leaking from you, not with eijiro’s hungry eyes devouring you.
“yes, please. i’ll do anything for you.” you nod, eagerly, desperately, a whine caught in your throat.
“good,” katsuki purrs. he gives a single nod to eijiro.
in one smooth motion, katsuki pulls himself from your sensitive flesh, a gasp ripped from your lips at the sudden emptiness and the cool air on your wet skin. then his hands are on your waist, and he’s transferring your weight.
eijiro’s arms come up to catch you, and he is just as hot, just as solid as katsuki. you’re cradled against a chest that feels like carved stone, your bare skin flush against his, and you bury your flaming face in his neck, breathing in his scent of smoke, spice, and something wild.
katsuki strides over to a large ornate chair near the bed and sinks into it, sprawling with kingly indolence. he’s still gloriously naked, his cock hard on his belly. “alright,” he says, his voice a command. “i wanna watch. kirishima… eat her out. clean up my mess. then get her ready for you.”
eijiro lets out another one of those low, rumbling hums. “as my king commands.” he carries you to the bed as if you weigh nothing and lays you down gently on the rumpled silk. your eyes are glued to him as he hooks his thumbs in the waistband of his pants and pushes them down.
your breath hitches at the sight.
he’s… huge. thick and long, already fully erect, the tip flushed and leaking. the sight sends a jolt of pure, dizzying arousal straight to your already throbbing core.
“like what you see, princess?” katsuki asks from his chair, a dark amusement in his tone. he’s lazily stroking himself, his eyes glued to the scene.
“she’s blushing all over,” eijiro notes, his voice softening as he kneels on the bed between your spread legs. his gaze is a physical weight, traveling over every inch of your exposed body; your peaked nipples, the flutter of your stomach, the glistening, well-used flesh between your thighs, dripping with katsuki’s release. he leans over you, caging you with his arms, his face inches from yours. his eyes search yours. “can i kiss you, sweetheart?”
you nod, wordless.
eijiro no longer waits. his mouth immediately captures yours.
it’s nothing like katsuki’s kiss. where katsuki is fire and possessive, eijiro is deep, lingering warmth. it’s sweet, almost reverent at first. a soft press of lips that quickly deepens into something more devouring. his tongue sweeps into your mouth, tasting you slowly, thoroughly. it’s no less possessive, but it’s a different kind of claim.
“good girl,” katsuki grunts from the side. “let him taste you.”
eijiro breaks the kiss with a soft sound, trailing his lips along your jaw, down the column of your neck. “so sweet,” he murmurs against your skin, his hot breath making you shiver. “so perfect.” he moves lower, taking a nipple into his mouth, suckling gently before swirling it with his tongue. he pays equal attention to the other, his hands skimming down your sides as he kisses a path over your trembling stomach.
he doesn’t stop until his face is level with your aching core. the scent of sex and katsuki is thick in the air. eijiro’s eyes lock with yours, holding your gaze with an intensity that pins you to the bed.
“lick her clean, ei,” katsuki orders, his hand moving faster on his own length.
eijiro doesn’t look away from you. “with pleasure,” he rumbles.
his tongue was broad, hot, and surprisingly soft. it drags through your soaked folds in one long, deliberate stripe. he gathers katsuki’s cum and your own on his tongue, his eyes fluttering closed for a second as he savors it. a low groan vibrates from his throat into your flesh.
“fuck yes,” katsuki breathes. “doesn’t she taste so good?”
eijiro opens his eyes again as he hummed in agreement, watching your face as he does it again. and again. each slow, languid lap makes your back arch off the bed, a broken moan tumbling from your lips.
he’s cleaning you with a thoroughness that is obscene, worshipful, and unbearably erotic.
then he zeroes in on your clit.
his mouth closes over the swollen bud and he eats you like a man starved. his tongue flicks and circles, then presses hard and flat against you before spearing deep inside your entrance, fucking you with it, tasting both of you mixed together.
“oh gods—eijiro!” you cry out, one hand fisting in the sheets above your head, the other tangling in his red hair.
the sounds he was making were filthy. wet, sucking noises, his low growls of appreciation, your escalating whines and sobs.
“so good,” eijiro mumbles against your flesh, his words muffled. “taste like heaven. so fucking perfect.” he shifts, his hands sliding under your thighs to hike them over his shoulders, spreading you wider, opening you up for his devouring mouth.
“that’s it,” katsuki praises from his throne, his grunts joining the symphony. “make her cum on your tongue. show me how good my wife tastes.”
you tear your eyes from the ecstasy on eijiro’s face to look at your husband. katsuki is stroking himself in earnest now, his gaze locked on where eijiro’s head is buried between your legs. he looks utterly captivated, a smirk of pure male satisfaction on his lips.
“k-katsuki! eiji—ugh’ngh,” you wail, feeling the coil within you wind impossibly tight.
“cum for him,” katsuki commands, his voice rough. “give him your reward for being so patient.”
eijiro redoubles his efforts, sucking your clit into his mouth while thrusting two thick fingers inside you, curling them to stroke that perfect spot.
the dual assault shatters you. you scream, your body bowing off the bed as a brutal orgasm tears through you, your vision whiting out at the edges as you clamp down around his fingers.
eijiro rides it out with you, drinking every drop, until you collapse back onto the sheets, boneless and trembling. and when he finally lifts his head, his chin glistening.
“that’s it, baby,” katsuki’s voice is a low, approving rumble as you tremble through the last waves of your climax under eijiro’s mouth. “so good for us. but we’re not done.” he stood up from his seat before standing in front of you, his fingers, still tangled in your hair, give a gentle but firm tug, guiding your face up to look at him. his eyes are molten, dark with a possessive heat that makes your insides flutter anew. “up. on your hands and knees for me. show me how well my queen can listen.”
your body, still humming with pleasure, obeys before your mind fully catches up.
you push yourself up, limbs shaky, and maneuver onto your hands and knees in the center of the massive bed. the silk is cool against your flushed skin. you feel exposed, vulnerable, and utterly wanton.
katsuki moves with a predator’s grace. he moved to sit on the bed, positioning himself right in front of you. he shifts to sit up against the carved headboard, his back supported, his legs spread.
he’s the picture of royalty, a king surveying his spoils. and you are on display before him.
a moment later, the bed dips behind you. eijiro’s large, warm hands settle on your waist, his thumbs stroking the dip of your spine. he leans in, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the small of your back, then another higher up, his breath fanning over your sensitive skin.
a desperate, hungry sound escapes you, a whine that’s almost a sob. you push your hips back instinctively, seeking more of his touch, more of anything.
the refined manners of the emerald kingdom, the years of etiquette lessons, the poised grace of a princess—it’s all gone, incinerated in the scarlet heat of this room, of these men.
you are need and hunger given form.
katsuki watches you, a low chuckle vibrating in his chest as he thought of the same thing. “look at you,” he muses, his voice thick with dark amusement. “where’s my polite little princess now? huh? all those pretty curtsies and soft-spoken words… fucked right out of you.” he leans forward slightly, his gaze searing into you. “good. that girl belonged to them. this?” he gestures at you, trembling and eager on your knees. “this is mine. you’re my wife. my queen. and you’re in the scarlet region now. i could fuck you raw in front of my entire war council and not a single bastard would bat a fucking eye.” the sheer, brutal ownership in his words makes you clench around nothing, a fresh trickle of wetness slicking your inner thighs.
katsuki sees it, his smirk widening. “but i won’t do that. ‘cause this… this filthy, desperate, perfect look on your face… that’s for me. and for him.” he nods toward eijiro behind you. “no one else.”
his attention sharpens, focusing solely on you. his voice drops, softening into a coaxing, dominant croon that’s somehow more overwhelming than his shouts. “c’mere, pretty. closer to me.” you shuffle forward on your knees until you’re between his spread legs, his hard, thick cock standing proudly just inches from your face. the musky, masculine scent of him is overwhelming.
“i know you haven’t done this before,” he says, his tone surprisingly gentle, like he’s instructing you in a sacred rite. “that’s okay. i’m gonna tell you exactly what to do. just be my good girl and follow my words, yeah?”
“i will. m’good girl,” you nod, your eyes wide and fixed on him, on the ruddy tip already beading with pre-cum.
“yes you are,” he praises you. “first… just taste me. use that pretty little tongue.”
leaning forward, you tentatively extend your tongue and lick a slow, careful stripe over the broad head. the taste is salty, uniquely him, and it sends a jolt of pure lust straight to your core.
“fuck,” katsuki hisses, his hips giving a tiny jerk. “just like that. perfect. so fuckin’ obedient for me.” his hand comes to rest on the top of your head, not pushing, just holding. “now… wrap your hand around me. show me how big i am for my queen.”
you reach out, your fingers seeming so small as you wrap them around his girth. you can’t quite close your thumb and forefinger. a soft, awed sound leaves your lips. “… so big.”
katsuki’s chuckle is ragged. “see? you need both hands. go on.”
you bring your other hand up, stacking it over the first, and finally manage to form a loose ring around him. the heat of him is incredible, the skin like velvet over steel. you begin to stroke, up and down, watching in fascination as his expression tightens with pleasure.
“yes… just like that… f-fuck, your hands are so soft,” he groans, his head falling back against the headboard for a moment before he forces it up to watch you. “doing so good. such a fast learner for me.”
meanwhile, eijiro is worshiping your back. his mouth is everywhere, sucking dark marks onto your shoulders, licking a hot path down your spine, biting gently at the swell of your ass. each touch, each possessive mark, makes you whimper and push back into him, your strokes on katsuki becoming less coordinated.
“so eager,” eijiro murmurs against your skin, his voice a gravelly vibration. “so perfect for him. for us.”
emboldened by their praise, by the fire coursing through your veins, you lean in again. this time, you drag your tongue from the very base of katsuki’s shaft all the way to the tip in one long, slow, wet lick.
katsuki’s reaction is instantaneous. a sharp, guttural “hnng!” rips from his throat, and his hand fists in your hair. “shit! where’d that come from, you greedy little thing?” but he’s grinning, all fierce pride.
you don’t answer with words, instead you open your mouth and take the head of his cock inside, sucking gently as you had seen done in erotic book and illustrations.
“oh, fuck yes,” he moans, his fingers tightening on your hair. “just like that… take me deeper now. slow—just like that. good girl…”
you obey, sinking down inch by agonizing inch. he’s so big, stretching your lips wide, filling your mouth until you feel him nudge the back of your throat. your eyes water, but you hold there, breathing harshly through your nose.
“look at that,” katsuki breathes, awe in his tone. he glances over your head, his eyes meeting eijiro’s. “she’s taking me so well… now it’s your turn, ei. fuck her. fill her up while she sucks me off.”
eijiro’s answering growl is pure hunger. you feel the blunt, hot head of his cock nudge against your dripping entrance, still stretched and sensitive from before. “gonna put it in now, sweetheart,” he coos, his voice a rough contrast to his gentle warning. “gonna fill you up just like your husband wants.”
you moan around katsuki’s length, the vibration making him curse and thrust his hips up minutely.
the sensation is overwhelming. the stretch and burn as eijiro slowly pushes inside you from behind, and the heavy fullness in your mouth.
“that’s it… take him,” katsuki groans, his hand guiding your head down a little further, helping you take more of him. “ffuuuck, your mouth… so hot and tight.”
eijiro bottoms out with a deep, satisfied sigh, his hips flush against your ass. “gods… she’s s-so tight,” he rasps.
then he begins to move. slow and deep thrusts that have you seeing stars. each forward drive pushes you further onto katsuki’s cock, making you gag softly. each withdrawal pulls a desperate whine from your throat.
“listen to her,” katsuki pants, his own hips beginning to move in tiny counter-thrusts to eijiro’s rhythm. “listen to those pretty little sounds she makes for us. fuck her harder, shitty hair. make her fucking feel good.”
eijiro obeys, his grip on your hips turning vice-like. his thrusts become harder, faster, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room accompanied by his guttural grunts and your muffled cries. “so good… taking us both… our perfect queen.”
katsuki’s control is fraying. his thrusts into your mouth become less measured, more urgent. “gonna cum… fuck, you’re gonna make me cum down your pretty little throat,” he snarls, his voice strained. he fists your hair tightly, holding you in place as his pace turns erratic. “you want that? want me to cum in your mouth?”
you’re eyes stayed on his as you hummed in agreement.
“then earn it, baby. cum for eijiro while you suck me like the good girl you are.” katsuki says.
the challenge, the sheer depravity of it, ignites something frantic in you.
determined to feel that shattering pleasure again, to please him, you bob your head faster, taking him as deep as you can manage, hollowing your cheeks and swirling your tongue around the sensitive head on each upstroke.
katsuki throws his head back with a ragged roar, his entire body tensing. “yes! just like that! fuck, baby! i’m gonna—!”
the first hot, salty pulse hits the back of your throat. he holds you there firmly as he empties himself with sharp, jerking thrusts, groaning your name mixed with filth and praise. “take it all. swallow it… be a good girl for your husband…”
as you struggle to swallow, tears streaming down your cheeks, katsuki cups your jaw with his other hand, his thumb stroking your cheek. his eyes are blazing, demanding. “look at me,” he commands, his voice raw. “give me your eyes while you swallow my cum.”
you force your watery gaze up to meet his. the connection is electric, intimate and degrading all at once. you see the raw possession, the awe, the unadulterated lust as you gulp him down.
“so fucking good… perfect girl,” he whispers, his thumb wiping a stray tear. he glances at eijiro over your shoulder. “now make my wife cum.”
with a look from katsuki, eijiro changes his angle, driving into you with deep, punishing strokes aimed directly at that spot inside you that makes you see white.
you fall forward, your arms giving out, but katsuki is there. you collapse against his chest, your face buried in his neck as eijiro pounds into you from behind. “ah! hngh—f-fuuuck. m’close. so close.”
“that’s it… let go… cum on my cock,” eijiro grunts, his rhythm becoming brutal, relentless. “gonna fill you up… breed you…”
katsuki holds you to him, one arm wrapped around your back, his other hand stroking your hair. his mouth is at your ear, a constant stream of filth and praise. “feel him? feel how deep he’s fucking my cum deeper into you? you’re gonna be dripping with us for days… our perfect, shared little wife… come on… let me see you fall apart.”
“katsuki, eiji!” you scream into katsuki’s skin as an orgasm more intense than any before tears through you, a convulsing, mind-breaking wave that has you clamping down on eijiro so hard he shouts.
“fuck! she’s—!” eijiro’s thrusts become erratic, then he slams home one final time, burying himself to the hilt as he roars his release.
you feel the hot rush of his seed joining katsuki’s inside you, the overwhelming fullness making you sob through the last tremors of your own climax. “ngh… fu—no more. ah…”
katsuki holds you through all of it, whispering praises into your hair. “i got you. just ride it out… that’s my girl, took us both so well…”
slowly, gently, eijiro slips out of you, leaning forward to press a tender kiss between your shoulder blades. “you’re incredible,” he murmurs, his voice reverent.
you are utterly spent, a boneless, trembling mess between them.
katsuki shifts, lying back and pulling you with him so you’re sprawled half on his chest. eijiro settles behind you, his big body curling around yours, one heavy arm draping over your waist to splay possessively on katsuki’s stomach. you are sandwiched in their heat, in their scent, filled with their essence.
the last thing you feel is katsuki’s lips brushing your forehead and his final, drowsy murmur. “ours.” the last thing you hear is eijiro’s low, content hum of agreement against the back of your neck.
then the world dissolves into warm, dark, satiated nothing.
