FandomKat

Laying with your back pressed against his chest and his arms around you, you’re trying to feign a pout through your giggles that haven’t stopped, “No fair! Y-you’re too fast!”

“Well,” he chuckles, squeezing you tighter as he presses his chin into your shoulder, “didn’t I tell you it’s a bad idea to run from a wolf?”

You grab one of his forearms that's wrapped around you, digging into his skin lightly, “Hmph!”

He kisses the side of your head, “If we keep training, maybe...eventually...you’ll be fast enough to outrun me.”

“Yeah, right!” You scoff, still laughing in his grasp.

“Hypothetically speaking…” You don’t need to be looking at him directly to know he’s smiling—with that wide grin you love.

“You—!” You’re silenced by the sudden feeling of his lips on your neck, offering a sweet, tender kiss to your skin. “Mm…”

“Y-you’d never let that happen…you like c-catching me too much...” You’re trying to keep your breathing steady at the feeling of his lips on you. The laughter from before is replaced by a soft mix of your collective panting breaths due to the short run from the living room to the bedroom. Although, you're panting much more aggressively than he is...

His lips press into your neck again, “Mmhm…” before they part from you and he exhales against your skin, “I do.” His voice lost its playfulness, suddenly becoming low and serious.

Even though you actually are melting into his touch, you play it up for dramatic effect, aiming to catch him off guard.

The way your body relaxes and a small breath escapes your lips works exactly as intended. As he releases a soft, “Mmph…” against your neck, with a swift push of your arm backward against his chest, you’re shoving him flat onto his back behind you. Turning around, you’re quick to climb on top of him in a straddle. With shock in his eyes but a smile on his lips, you grab his wrists and pin his arms above his head onto the bed.

Despite the plastered smile he's wearing on his face, the look in his eyes changes from shock to desire straight after you—albeit aggressively—pin his wrists, your chest nearing his face a moment while you come back down to a seated position on his lap.

The distance being too great, you’re almost pressing your entire torso against his if you want to maintain your grasp on his wrists and keep your thighs against his hips.

“Too slow.” You grin at him with your face right near his, “It looks like I’ve caught you now...”

He picks his head up off the mattress slightly, leaning in toward your lips, “Oh no…what ever will I do…” His voice is dripping with sensual sarcasm, very much so enjoying the place he's found himself in.

You roll your eyes with huge grin, but before you can speak, “What’s this huntress gonna do now that she’s bagged her wolf, hm?”

“Hmm…let’s see...” You withhold your kiss just from his lips as he tries to lean up further to meet you, “Maybe I’ll make you beg for it…”

He leans his head back against the mattress, still smiling, “Sold. I’ll start begging right no—”

“Shush!” You giggle, shoving your face into his neck, your chest finally flattening over his as you continue to hold his wrists.

He lets out a short laugh before pressing his cheek against the side of your head. “I’m all yours... Do whatever you want to me, gorgeous.”

You press your lips against his neck softly before muttering, “Whatever I want?”

“Mmhm…whatever.” You feel a light twitch from his hips as he presses up into you. Although his hips moved, he didn’t fight your grasp on his wrists whatsoever.

“You’re gonna regret saying that...” You whisper into his skin, pressing an open mouth kiss lower on his neck.

“Never.”

“Mmm…we’ll see about that…” At your words, a short, anticipatory whine falls from his lips. You drag your hips forward, grinding yourself against his hardening length, gripping his wrists a bit tighter.

“F-fuck.”

“Mhm…that’s right.” You start to gently suck on his neck. By then, he let his hips buck harder against your grinding.

Parting from his neck, you hover your face over his again. Feigning like you may kiss him, you keep your lips mere centimeters away from his.

“Mm…you’re such a good boy. You could flip me over and take what you want, but you don’t.” He lets out a ragged breath that washes over your lips, staring into your eyes, a desperate tinge of helplessness in his own. “Isn’t that right? You wait for me to tell you to.”

He gives a slight nod, watching your lips carefully while you speak, “Mhm…y-yes…”

“Good boy.” Your voice is a dripping coo of praise before you’re meeting his lips with yours.

“Mmph…” He melts instantly at your kiss, not even bothering to fight against your grasp and instead just relishing in the feeling of your weight on him and your lips pressed against his.

It’s short lived, though, as you intentionally break away from him, eliciting another whine from his lips.

You scoot down and back slightly so that you can sit upright directly on his hard cock. In the process, you release his wrists. He immediately goes to move his hands toward your body, “Ah, ah. I just can’t reach sitting like this. I didn’t say you could move them.”

Moaning, he puts his arms right back to where you were holding them seconds before. Placing your hands on your thighs to steady yourself, you continue to grind yourself down onto him, “Tell me…what do you want, handsome?”

“I want,” he swallows harshly, his chest expanding with a breath before relaxing again, “to be inside you.”

“Oh, yeah?” Your hips drag again, painfully slow, “Why don’t you be a good boy and tell me about that?” His jaw clenches and he exhales deeply from his nose.

“I w-want—mmph—to feel you wrapped around me.” His hips buck into your constant glide against his cock, the friction from the material almost too much, even for you. “I love feeling you tight around me, so wet—ngh—so fucking warm—squeezing me...like you’re asking for my cum...”

“Fuck—” his eyes snap shut a moment from your torturing of his cock with the act of nonchalant dry humping before opening again, “I need to be inside you—so fucking badly—please…”

“Ooh,” you coo teasingly, “good boy, I finally got a please.” You've deliberately kept your hands off him so far since releasing his wrists.

“Please.” He whines, obediently repeating the word you want to hear. “Please, just fuck yourself with my cock. I w-won’t do anything— I’ll—”

“Mmm, desperation is good. Very good. I might give you what you want.”

His head tilts back into the bed, his eyes staring up desperately at the ceiling rather than you, his hands restrained by nothing but in place nonetheless, as if they were chained. “Y-yes, please—fuck—I need you.”

You let out a small laugh, continuing to grind yourself on his cock, almost moaning but careful in finding restraint. The look of him was too damn delicious...

You watch his hands ball up into fists above his head, “I k-know you’re fuckin’ soaked—just—”

You interrupt him, “Oh, is that so?”

“Mhm…” his breathing is beyond ragged, “I can smell it.” Watching his hands flex once more, he groans, “You smell s’fucking good, please...”

“I bet you can. But, you’re such a good listener. And I’m having so much fun.” You finally plant both of your hands on his chest, never having stopped the back and forth drag of your hips. “Aren’t you?”

“Yes—fuck! …Mmhm, y-yes.” Despite being both broken and desperate, his voice is still enthusiastic.

“That’s what I thought.” Gripping his pecs through his shirt, you slow the drag of your hips again.

Suddenly, his hands raise but you give him a stern look, and a low growl emits from his throat, “Ngh—fuck!” He laces his fingers together and puts his hands underneath his head.

“Good boy.” You coo, grasping at his muscles a little tighter.

His hips buck the hardest yet, his body lifting you off the mattress and toward him. “Please—kiss me, at least. Fucking p-please…” Thankfully, your hands on his chest keep you from tumbling forward into him and giving him what he wants.

“Mmm…not yet, handsome. You’re so cute when you’re begging for me.”

His voice cracks, “Fuckin’ hell, beautiful, you drive me crazy...”

“Good. That’s what I like to hear.”

“P-please, let me touch you, then.”

“No.” You have such a wicked grin, just watching his face knit in palpable pleasure and eager discomfort. By now, he was completely rock hard beneath you. On top of that, the friction provided against your hidden clit—plus his begging, of course—was absolutely euphoric.

“Let’s see…” You run your hands down from his chest toward his stomach, letting your fingertips dip under the confines of his shirt.

You moan at the contact of your fingertips touching his warm skin…his muscles. It was so hard not to break when he looked like this…sounded like this… When he was a weak, obedient mess of muscle underneath you, ready to do whatever you asked.

With his hands still laced beneath his head, he watches you carefully as you touch him, pushing his shirt up further and further until you reveal his chest. His voice is hoarse from whining, “Like what you see, beautiful?”

“Mmhm…of course. You’re such a good boy.” Without thinking, you dip down and get your mouth on his abs, biting into his skin.

“Shit—”

“So fucking hot…” You drag your tongue along his abs and up, nearing his chest. Almost laying on him again, your mouth ends up close to his chin.

His voice cracks once again in desperation, “Fuck—kiss m-me, please.”

“Mm-mm…” You shake your head softly before bringing your mouth down again, planting slow kisses along his chest until you meet one of his nipples and gently swipe your tongue over it.

“Nngh—my god…” His hips buck again, hard.

“How long c-can you keep this up, hm?” He lifts his hips again off the bed and you with them, a small gasp coming from you at his strength. “I said I can smell it, but n-now I can practically feel it.”

“As long as I want.” You pinch his skin with both hands near his obliques, dragging your nails along and down his torso directly after.

He was starting to shake, a nervous laugh escaping his lips alongside a moan at the feeling of your nails racking down his body. “Stop being so sexy and maybe...maybe, I’ll stop.”

“No can do, beautiful—ngh—y-you’re killin’ me here…”

“That doesn’t help your case.” You smile, palming his bare chest and pressing down with both your hands and hips, forcing his body and thus hips back down onto the mattress.

“Don’t you wanna feel my cock?” Trying to sound resolute, he fails, only sounding desperate instead.

“Mmhm…I really do...” You sink your nails into his pecs, “But you’re so fucking sexy when you’re a whimpering mess, it’s so hard to stop...”

“F-fuck—ngh—baby, please…”

“Hmph...fine.” Without another word, you get off him and the bed.

As soon as he moves an inch, you speak, “Uh-uh.” You shake your head at him while starting to finally undress, “Stay.”

He groans deeply, throwing his head back onto the mattress. “All you’re gonna do for me is take out your cock, okay?”

“M-mhm.” At the sound of permission, his hands are instantly working the button and fly of his pants, quick to reveal his pitifully throbbing cock.

“Mm…fuck…” Your voice is quiet as you stare at him, almost completely undressed now, with the exception of your panties that you can feel are clinging to your skin. Locking your eyes with his and not breaking away, you slip them off slowly. He moans in response, staring at you helplessly.

You watch his cock twitch as you crawl back on top of him, carefully adjusting onto the soles of your feet on either side of him. Before you even touch him, “Put your hands back under your head for me, handsome.”

“Shit—o-okay—” He’s promptly whimpering, just waiting for you to sit on his cock, but he obliges anyway.

“You’re such a good boy for me, aren’t you?”

“Mmhm—” you grab the base of his cock, angling him up and toward you, “nngh—my god…”

Carefully, with your body and the support of your hand guiding him, you let the head of cock push between your soaking slit. You moan at the feeling of his tip nudging your swollen clit.

He lets out a low hiss and throws his head back into his hands, “Ah, ah. Eyes on me.” When he lifts his head back up, his eyes are bright and glowing.

“Good…” Slowly, you lift up onto the balls of your feet, letting his tip wedge into your entrance.

“Oh my god…” His voice is spent, utterly weak while you moan at the instant stretch. “You’re s-so fucking hot...m’gonna lose it…” He almost sounds like he could cry, and the sheer sound of his utter desperation makes you just want to take him completely, but you withhold yourself.

Sinking down nearly halfway after a moment, you finally remove your hand from him, bracing on his chest with both hands but still keeping your knees up high and angled so he can have a complete view of his cock disappearing into you.

“You’re so wet—holy f-fuck…” His jaw clenches as his chest rises and falls rapidly. “Go on, baby, fuck yourself. Use me, I wanna watch, p-please…”

“Because you asked so nicely…” You let yourself sink down completely, moaning loudly at the feeling of him full up inside you. “God—you’re s-so—nngh—big…” You’re biting your bottom lip, hard, trying to stay quiet and in control but slowly failing second by second.

“Mhm…” His eyes are simply fixed on what’s happening, especially when you lift back up. “That’s it—” you sink back down a bit faster “fuck!”

Losing control, you do exactly what he tells you and fuck yourself onto his cock, enjoying each delicious plunge and stretch, his tip easily massaging your G-spot as each inch of him massages everything else.

From slow to fast to slow again, he’s let himself become thoroughly complacent, just whimpering and moaning each time his cock is buried as deep as it can go inside you.

“Fuck...fuck—aah! Fuck! Please, please...let me flip you over, I-I’m gonna cum…” His voice is loud as he struggles, but you can still hear the slapping of skin on skin each time you bounce on him.

“I know you love it w-when I pound into you and fill you with my cum, p-please just—”

You slow down, keeping him completely inside you a moment, dragging your hips in a slow, small circle until he's moaning again, “One more, handsome. Just breathe for me, okay?”

“Mhm—y-yeah…” He's panting harshly as you slowly drag your gripping cunt back up the length of his cock. “You're s-such a tease...”

As soon as your body meets the base of his cock again, he hurriedly sits up and places a hand on your low back, the other on your hip, flipping the position as if it were nothing and he could’ve done so all along.

During the entire rotation of power, his cock remained buried its full extent inside you. As soon as you're laying flat on your back and he pulls outward, just his tip wedged into you, you whine loudly at the feeling of him slamming back into you with force, “Nngh—aah!”

“You said…o-one more. That was one m-more, I’m d-done. I can’t fuckin’ take it.” He shoves his face into your neck, placing sloppy kisses to the area, his breathing a mess and his restraint evaporated.

“Now…” he bites your neck, hard, before releasing, “you’re gonna take my cock like a good girl, hm?” His voice is low and quiet into the skin of your neck.

“Mmhm—y-yes—!”

At each of the most recent, aggressive, thrusts, you’re clawing at his back desperately, taking each inch of him with a tremble and shake, your body completely losing the fight for control.

“That’s i-it, pretty girl…” His face lifts from your neck and he presses his forehead against yours, just pounding away and utterly lost in the moment. “Do you want me to fill you with my cum?”

“Mmhm—h-holy shit—fuck y-yes, so badly...p-please!” How quick the roles were to reverse...

After a few more hard thrusts that have you screaming out his name into the otherwise silent room, “F-fuck—m’gonna—” Rather than let him just wail and growl, you wrap your arms around his neck and bring your lips to his, enjoying his grunts that spill into your mouth while you simultaneously feel his cock spill his thick, hot cum into your cunt. Each lasting stroke is so vigorously firm and in line with each pump of his release.

You’re mutually locked in a kiss until you’re shaking, reaching your own release alongside his, the aggressive thrusts slamming against your G-spot easily sending you tumbling over the edge. Both out of breath, the kiss breaks, but your lips stay close, foreheads pressed together, needy moans, whines, and whimpers falling out of your lips and overlapping with one another as you both ride out the feeling.

His face falls back to your neck as he offers a few more much gentler strokes, “Holy…shit…”

“Mmhm…I-I—” You can’t even speak, your cunt still twitching around him.

Spending a moment in each other’s embrace sprinkled with a few light kisses, he pulls out carefully; but once he does, he’s wrapping you tight into his arms and pulling you into him. Similar to how this all started, you end up giggling at the feeling of his lips placing kisses all over the side of your face.

“H-hey!”

“My god…” his lips plant firmly against your cheek, “you are brutal, gorgeous.” You laugh, smiling as his face presses into your cheek.

Pulling back slightly, “And…I’m not gonna just let you get away with it...” Your eyes widen at the remark and at the fact he sounds dead serious.

“Y-you—” With another jittery laugh, you’re scrambling off and away from him. But, like before, he’s much faster, using both of his arms to circle around your waist and keep you on the bed.

With ease, he’s pulling and pushing you down until your back is against the bed again. “Oh, I don’t think so.” Spreading your legs so he can wedge between them, he trails kisses down toward your stomach.

Stopping, he looks up at you, “You’re not gonna get away that easily.”

Spreading your legs with both of his hands, his lips land on your inner thigh, “You gotta be faster than that, pretty girl.”

“Val…” You warn, still trembling while you start to feel his cum drip out slowly from your entrance.

He smirks at you, “What? Of course I’m gonna play around with you.”

“Oh, fuck me…” You exhale sharply.

“Mmm, we just did that…I was thinking of something else.” His lips press into your thigh again, spreading your legs even further apart with his hands. “But…we can do that again after I do this. Okay, beautiful?”

Feeling your clit throb, both residually and in anticipation, all you can do is weakly nod while peering down at him. He was so sexy staring up at you...wanting his pay back...or, perhaps...he wanted to offer his thanks...

“You know, I’m not the only good listener...” Looking like he wants to add something else, he stops himself, his eyes trailing down to your exposed cunt. “Fuck…you look perfect with my cum dripping out of you.”

Spreading your slit with two fingers, he exhales deeply. “…I think you just like driving me crazy so I’ll fuck you as hard as I can…” Letting go, he swipes his thumb over your clit, “Isn’t that right, pup?”

“Nngh—mmhm…”

“Thought so…” Circling your clit with his thumb, “You’re just so desperate for a good, hard fuck from my cock, huh?”

You nod pathetically, trying to withhold a moan but failing, “Y-yes.” Without saying another word, his thumb leaves your clit and he plunges two fingers into your leaking cunt. “Mmmph—f-fuck…”

“You’re so pretty when you’re full of my cum…mmm…all mine.”

“Mmhm…” You notice his eyes are fixated on his fingers, watching them pump in and out of you slowly, enjoying the look of both your slickness and his cum painting his fingers.

Pulling out from you suddenly, he sits up onto his knees, leaning over and into you. He brings his fingers to your still panting mouth, “Open your mouth, beautiful.”

Whining, you do as you’re told, moaning when his fingers glide against your tongue, “Mm...good girl.”

“Mhm…” You look up at him with needy eyes, his fingers still in your mouth with your lips wrapped tightly around them.

“Don’t look at me like that…I’ll have to fuck you again way sooner than I plan to...” With that, he pops his fingers from your mouth, leaving you gasping. “Now…I want that kiss you wouldn’t give me earlier. Can you do that, hm?”

“Uh-h-huh…” With the same hand’s fingers that were just in your mouth, he places a gentle grip around your throat, leaning further into you while tugging you up toward him gently.

Eagerly—enjoying the feeling of his hand around your throat—you lean up to meet him, but just as his mouth is close to yours, he drops his grip on your throat and leans away, your head falling back against the mattress in desperation. “Y-you—!”

“Just giving you a taste of your own medicine, doll.” He smirks, leaning back down to trail kisses along your body again before looking back up at you. “I want you begging for it. Then, maybe, I’ll give you what you want.”

He settles back between your legs, “First…I’m gonna make you cum until you’re screaming for me to stop.” He's pushing your thighs open again, “I still might not stop.” You shiver, a part of you knowing he’s kidding, but then again, you have a safeword and if it’s not used…he may very well hold true to that.

“Val, p-please…” Your voice breaks into a moan.

“Oh, it’s too late for that. I had fun, didn’t you? It’s my turn to have fun with you.” His hands palm your thighs, squeezing your flesh hard. “Trust me, you’ll like it and be begging me for my cock once I’m done.”

“Mmhm…” Like his did earlier, your eyes snap shut a moment as he places your thighs over his shoulders.

“Ah, ah.” He mocks you, “Keep yours eyes on me.”

“F-fuck, o-okay…” Your voice cracks again into yet another anticipatory moan.

“You’re so pretty when you’re desperate for me. Can you handle when the tables are turned on you, though?” He licks a slow, controlled stripe up the length of your slit. His voice becomes low, “Let’s find out together, hm, pretty girl?”

“Nngh—mhm…”

Without another word, his tongue immediately meets your clit, which is still terribly swollen from grinding against him, arguably too long.

“Fuck…you taste so good.” He licks you again, slower. “I love that you have my scent all over you...”

Bumping the top of your slit with his nose, he shudders, “You were so fucking pretty bouncing on my cock earlier. I could watch you do that all day long.”

Moaning himself, his mouth meets you again, his lips easily circling around your clit, sucking extremely gently. Despite it being gentle, you nearly shriek.

“Awh,” he coos after letting you go a moment, “someone already overstimulated themselves against my cock.”

He barely grazes your clit with his tongue before speaking again, “I’ll be gentle, beautiful.” Just then, his voice became exceptionally sweet.

“Val—my god—” You’re cut off by a slow lap from his tongue, tugging upward on your clit. “S-shit—”

“Mmm…” It’s debatable whether what comes next is gentle. Maybe you’re just so swollen from grinding against him...

In a short time, rather than keep his distance, he engulfs you completely with his mouth, sucking your clit softly with quiet slurps sounding here and again between a gentle switch between up and down, side to side, and circular motions of his tongue.

“Mmm—I c-can’t—oh my—”

He interrupts, “You can, pup. I can feel it, it’s right there. Just relax, okay?”

“Mmhm…” You reach down and run your fingers through his hair, both of your hands landing at the back of his head as you push up and into his mouth, completely giving into the feeling—into him.

He’s groaning against you, quickening his pace just slightly as he feels your release approaching. But, once that wave is just at its edge, he slows down tremendously, the delicate push of his tongue so slight that it’s devastating, gently coaxing your orgasm to the surface.

As soon as you’re moaning desperately, bucking into his mouth, his lips are wrapping around your swollen clit again, sucking more harshly than before, a loud series of shrieks wailing from your mouth as you cum. As your legs shake and try to press together, he uses his strong hands to hold you exactly where you are against his shoulders.

Already feeling the desire to kick away, he doesn’t let you, holding you there, his tongue not stopping. “H-holy shit—w-wait, wa—fuck!” With no time for respite between and with the low growls from his throat vibrating against you, you’re already cumming again in short succession.

“M-my god—Val—w-wait—it’s s’fucking m-much—”

“Mm-mm.” He sounds against your skin, sucking again.

“Aah! F-fuck—!”

Breaking away with a gasp, “At least one more, baby. You can do it.” His mouth is instantly back on you.

Even tighter, his fingers are digging into the skin of your quads, pushing your legs down and against his shoulders. Not missing a beat, while sucking, he shakes his head lightly, eliciting a sharp whine from you while you feel a third—technically fourth if you count the sex—orgasm cresting over you.

In the end, his tongue is hardly moving, barely brushing against your clit slowly, but you’re screaming nonetheless, wiggling and writhing in his grasp, your back arching dramatically because it’s all you’re able to do.

Pulling his mouth off you, his mouth and chin completely slick, he groans, “Fuck. I want to make you cum again.”

Rather than say no—and not necessarily wanting to—you’re just a moaning mess, slack against the bed and his arms. His tongue juts out and swipes your clit again, “Aah!” He chuckles, pulling his mouth back.

For a moment, he watches your recovering cunt clench repeatedly around nothing. Looking back up at you, “Fine,” he grins, “I’ll do it with my cock.”

You whimper, your cunt beyond sensitive and just dripping—from everything. “It looks like that’s what you want.” His voice becomes low again, “Would you like that, beautiful?”

Panting and trying to catch your breath, your desire supersedes your overstimulation, “Mmhm…”

“Good girl.” He grins, finally releasing your thighs. “How do you want me?”

“I-I—” He crawls up to meet you, his hard cock pressing into the low point of your stomach, causing you to moan at the pressure. “Will you k-kiss me, p-please?”

“Fuck—” He tsks, “You’re so damn cute, how can I say no?”

Wrapping your legs around him, you draw him in, so needy for his lips on yours. Abandoning his pursuit to ruin you like you ruined him, he’s quick and equally desperate as you to meet your lips, easily moaning into your mouth as he presses further into you.

He partially breaks the kiss, smiling against you when he feels your feet pushing on the remainder of the clothing still attached to his bottom half. “I want you inside me s-so badly…” Your voice is a quiet—desperate and weak—whisper, your cunt still aching from his onslaught.

“Yeah?”

You keep pushing against the fabric, “Mmhm…”

“You’re sure?”

You release a light, breathy laugh, “D-don’t hold back now.”

He lets out a small chuckle, kissing you again softly before speaking, “Just want to make sure, beautiful.”

“Mmhm…yes, p-please…” You’re still shaking, quiet moans slipping past your lips.

“Rough? …Or sweet?” His smile is so genuine, a true warmth radiating in his eyes.

“Hmm…b-both…?” You smile back at him, a small giggle falling out from your lips—devastatingly in love with him right then. Always—all the time—but something about just then…

“Don’t have to tell me twice, pretty girl.”

Getting off the bed to completely undress, he’s quick to make his way back to you. Lifting your legs and placing them atop his shoulders, “Is this okay?”

“Absolutely...” You’re both still smiling at each other—a radical sense of nothing other than puppy love always occurring between the two of you.

Although, that familiar face of pleasure returns instantly when he lines himself up and pushes the head of his cock into your entrance. “Mmm—my god—”

“Fuckin’ hell…” He groans, withholding himself a moment, “You’re so fucking pretty. You feel s-so good wrapped around me.”

“Mmhm…Val—nngh—!” You struggle to say more as he sinks into you, slow at first before picking up the pace. “God—you feel a-amazing—” Your voice is contained by a breathy moan.

As he starts to thrust more intentionally, your head tilts back into the bed. “Mmm—look at me, baby. I want to see your pretty eyes.”

When you tilt forward again and meet his gaze, you both moan. At the sight and the sound of you, he thrusts a bit faster.

Whining, you reach past your angled hips and grip the backs of his hamstrings, tugging desperately each time he’s pulling partially out from you before thrusting forward again. “Mmm…someone really wants my cum...”

“I do—mmph—f-fuck, I really do…”

He groans, his arms flexing beside you as he withholds himself. “I want to feel you—ngh—cum one more t-time…”

Thrusting even faster, with slight grit emitting from his throat at the feeling of you swollen and milking him, he's trying to resist. With the speed, depth, and angle, it isn’t long before you feel yourself spasming.

Meeting you at the exact same pace and in the exact same place, he's groaning deeply while you're moaning loudly, the repeated and velvety clench of your cunt easily causing him to fill you again.

You’re both tired, spent, and so deeply satisfied. Not just from the arousal, but simply the warmth of each other’s presence. Cuddled together, your breathing synchronizes in a shallow consistency.

“You’re such a good boy.” You whisper, a grin fighting its way onto your lips.

“Don’t tempt me.” He laughs, pressing his lips against your forehead, his arms around you. “You’re such a good girl for me.” He coos somewhat mockingly, squeezing you tight.

He lets out a satisfied sigh, squeezing you again, “You’re the best girl... My girl.” His voice is soft as you cling onto him, hugging him from the side of his body, the side of your face pressed against his chest.

You cock your head and look up at him, and he's already gazing down at you, “I love you so much.” Your voice is a whisper falling after a brief silence, feeling completely safe wrapped up in his arms.

His voice is warm and gentle, “I love you more.”

With a quiet, but utterly content, sigh, you snuggle further into him. “No, I love—”

He’s quick to interrupt you, “Don’t even try it.” You offer a light scoff in response, laughing into his side. “I’ll stay up all night...and I’ll win.” You grin happily instead, poking his side with the tip of your finger, your eyes closed.

“Fine...” You press your lips against the side of his chest, “I'll let you have this one...”

your hand moves from your robe to your stomach, pressing against the plane of your belly. you're small. you know this. delicate in a way that makes people underestimate you. and blind. gods, the blindness. the one thing that has sent every single suitor running in the opposite direction.

princes would see your face first—the one they called ethereal, otherworldly, beautiful in a way that seemed impossible—and they'd fall to their knees.

they'd whisper sweet words, promises of devotion, declarations of love at first sight. and then you'd speak, and they'd realize your eyes didn't track their movements, didn't meet their gaze. and slowly, painfully, you'd listen to them pull away. hear the hesitation creep into their voices. feel the distance grow until they were gone.

you were used to it.

but sukuna? sukuna had looked at you once, for a single moment, and said yes. the entire empire had been shocked. the king of curses, the ruthless murderer, the emperor who had never shown interest in any woman, accepting a blind bride from a neighboring kingdom? it was scandalous. impossible.

and you'd felt hope.

you hate yourself for that hope now.

because three months of silence have taught you the truth. he doesn't want you. he tolerates you. and honestly? you'd almost prefer cruelty. at least cruelty would be a reaction. at least cruelty would mean he saw you as something worth acknowledging.

but this nothingness? this endless, suffocating nothingness?

it makes you feel like you've already disappeared.

the servants guide you through your days with practiced efficiency. they dress you, feed you, lead you through the palace halls. you've memorized the layout of your chambers, the path to the gardens, the number of steps from your room to the dining hall. you've learned to navigate this world without sight, just as you've always done.

but you can't navigate him.

you don't know where he sits at meals. you don't know if he watches you. you don't know if he even notices when you're in the same room. his presence is a void—a massive, oppressive absence of warmth that you can feel but never touch.

tonight was bad.

you'd been led to the gardens by a new servant, someone who didn't know your habits. she'd taken you left instead of right, and you'd walked straight into a hedge, thorns scratching your calves before she'd yanked you back with a flurry of apologies.

then you'd almost fallen down a staircase—the grand staircase with its uneven steps—your foot catching on the edge, your heart lurching into your throat as you'd pitched forward. a guard caught you just in time.

and the whispers.

you can't see their faces, but you can hear their voices. the concubines. the noblewomen. the servants who think you can't hear them.

"the blind empress."

"does he even notice her?"

"i heard he hasn't touched her once."

"what a waste of a pretty face."

"she must be so lonely."

"she must be so pathetic."

you'd smiled through all of it. kept your head high, your shoulders back, your voice steady. you learned long ago that showing weakness only invites more cruelty. so you'd walked through the halls with your practiced grace, your cane tapping against the marble floors, your face serene.

but inside, you were crumbling.

and now, lying in this massive bed, with your hair spread across a silk pillow and the scent of incense curling through the air, you can feel him beside you. he's so close. you know he's sitting up, his back probably against the headboard, his presence a heavy weight in the darkness.

does he ever sleep?

you've never heard him snore. never heard him shift in his sleep. he's so still, so silent, you sometimes wonder if he's even real.

a long, long time passes. the candles burn down. the incense fades. the night wraps around you like a shroud.

and you can't take it anymore.

"ryomen?"

your voice comes out soft, barely above a whisper. you hate how small you sound. how vulnerable. you'd wanted to sound strong, confident, demanding. instead, you sound like a child calling out in the dark.

silence.

you wait. count your heartbeats. one. two. three. four. five.

just when you're certain he's ignoring you, just when the familiar ache of rejection settles into your chest, a voice cuts through the darkness.

"what."

it's gruff. low. a single word that rumbles through the air like distant thunder. and it's the most he's said to you in days.

you swallow. your throat is dry. your fingers twist in the sheets.

"i...i want to ask you something."

more silence. you can feel him staring at you. you can't see it, but you can feel it—the weight of his gaze, heavy and unreadable.

"ask."

you take a shaky breath. this is it. this is the moment you've been building toward for three months. the question that's been eating you alive, consuming you from the inside out.

"do you hate me?"

the words hang in the air between you. they sound so small. so pathetic. you wish you could take them back, but it's too late. they're out there now, exposed and raw.

"hate you?" his voice is strange. almost...confused?

"because of...because i'm...y'know, blind." the words taste like ash in your mouth. "i know it's...i know i'm not what you expected. i know i'm not the best option. i know i'm—"

"stop."

the word is sharp, and you flinch. your breath catches in your throat. you brace yourself for anger, for cruelty, for him to finally confirm what you've suspected all along.

but instead of harsh words, you feel movement. the bed shifts. his weight moves closer.

and then, without warning, a hand wraps around your waist and pulls.

you let out a frightened shriek as you're yanked from your position, your body colliding with something solid and warm. your hands fly out, grasping at fabric, at skin, at anything. you're on his lap, straddling his thighs, your chest pressed against his. he's so big—so impossibly large—that you feel like a doll in his arms.

"ryomen!" your voice is high, panicked. "what—"

"quiet."

his hand settles on your thigh. it's huge. calloused. rough in a way that sends shivers down your spine. but the touch is gentle. impossibly gentle. he strokes your thigh once, twice, a soothing motion that slowly calms your racing heart.

"you really think," he says slowly, his voice rumbling against your chest, "that i hate you?"

you can't speak. your throat is too tight. you settle for shaking your head against his chest, even though it's a lie.

a low sound escapes him—not quite a growl, not quite a laugh. his hand slides from your thigh to your chin, tilting your face up. his thumb brushes across your lower lip, feather-light.

"open your eyes."

the command catches you off guard. "what?"

"your eyes. open them."

you blink, confused. your eyes are already open. you can't see anything, but they're open. you tell him as much.

"no." his voice is strange. softer. "i mean...look at me."

"i can't see you."

"i know." his thumb traces your jawline. "but i can see you. and i want to see your eyes. please."

please.

the word catches you off guard. the king of curses, saying please? to you?

you don't move. don't breathe. just let him hold your face in his massive hand, his touch devastatingly tender.

"i don't hate you," he says, and his voice cracks on the words. "gods, woman. i could never hate you."

your heart stutters. "then why—"

"because i'm fuckin' terrified."

you blink. "what?"

"do you know what i am?" his hand slides from your face to your hair, fingers threading through the strands. "i'm a killer. i've been killing for centuries. my hands are stained with blood i'll never wash clean. i'm rough, and violent, and i don't know how to be gentle."

"but—"

"but when i saw you..." he trails off. his fingers tighten in your hair, just barely. "when i saw you, i couldn't breathe. you were so beautiful. so small. so... perfect. and i thought, 'she's too good f'me.' , 'i'll break her.' , 'i'll hurt her.'"

his voice drops to a whisper.

"so i stayed away. because every time i look at you, i want to touch you. and every time i touch you, i'm afraid i'll destroy you."

tears prick at your eyes. you don't understand. you can't understand. this entire time, you thought he hated you. you thought he found you repulsive, broken, worthless.

but he was...

...afraid?

"you don't hate me?" you whisper.

"no." his forehead presses against yours. "i love you. i've loved you since the moment i saw you."

a sob escapes your throat. it's ugly and raw and you can't stop it.

"but you never—you never talked to me—"

"because i didn't trust myself." his other hand comes up to cup your cheek. "because i knew if i started, i wouldn't be able to stop."

"then don't stop."

the words leave your mouth before you can think. they hang in the air, bold and desperate.

"don't stop," you repeat. "please. i don't want you to stop."

sukuna goes still. so still that you wonder if he's stopped breathing.

"you don't know what you're asking."

"i do." you reach up, your fingers finding his face. you trace the planes of his cheeks, the sharp lines of his jaw, the curve of his lips. "you're my husband. i want you. all of you."

"i'll hurt you."

"i don't care."

"i'll break you."

"i don't care."

his breath hitches. and then, finally, finally, his lips crash against yours.

the kiss is desperate. hungry. it tastes like three months of longing, of confusion, of aching loneliness. his hand fists in your hair, pulling you closer, and you gasp against his mouth. his tongue slides against your lower lip, asking for entry, and you give it willingly.

he tastes like sake and power and something darker. something that makes your toes curl and your heart race.

he pulls back, breathless.

"tell me to stop, and i will."

"don't," you say immediately. "don't stop."

he groans. his hands slide down your back, gripping your hips, and he lays you down on the bed. you fall against the silk sheets, your hair spreading around you like a halo. you can't see him, but you can feel him—his weight on the bed, his heat surrounding you, his breath ghosting across your skin.

"m'gonna show you," he says, his voice low and rough. "m'gonna kiss every inch of your body. gonna taste you until you scream my name. i want to make you feel so good that you forget every single doubt you've ever had about yourself."

your breath catches. "ryomen—"

"let me." his lips brush against your neck. "let me show you how much i love you."

you nod, unable to speak.

his hands find the tie of your robe. he undoes it slowly, reverently, like he's unwrapping a gift he's been waiting centuries to open. the fabric falls away, cool air hitting your skin, and you shiver.

"beautiful," he breathes. "so fucking beautiful."

you feel his lips on your collarbone. soft. worshipful. he kisses down your chest, his tongue tracing a path between your breasts. his hands cup your breasts, thumbs brushing across your nipples, and you gasp.

"sensitive," he murmurs. "good. i'll remember that."

he takes one nipple into his mouth. his tongue circles the peak, slow and deliberate, and you arch into him with a desperate moan. he laves at you, sucking gently, nipping with his teeth until you're writhing beneath him.

"more," you gasp. "please—"

"patience." his voice is a dark promise. "i haven't even started with ya' yet."

he switches to the other breast, giving it the same attention. his hand slides down your stomach, fingers tracing patterns on your skin, until he reaches the apex of your thighs. you're already wet—embarrassingly wet—and he lets out a low growl when he feels it.

"fuck," he mutters against your skin. "you're soaked. f'me?"

"yes," you whimper. "only you."

he groans. his fingers slide through your folds, collecting your wetness, and you buck into his touch.

"tell me what you want."

"i want—" you gasp as his thumb circles your clit. "m'want your mouth."

his laugh is dark and breathless. "demanding little thing, aren't ya'?"

"please," you beg. "ryo, please—"

"shh." he kisses your stomach. "i'll give ya' what y'want."

he moves down your body, his lips leaving a trail of fire. he kisses your hips, your thighs, the inside of your knees. by the time he reaches your core, you're trembling, desperate, aching.

and then his tongue touches you.

you cry out, your hands flying to his hair. he laps at you like a man starved, his tongue sliding through your folds, circling your clit, dipping inside you. he moans against you, the vibration sending shockwaves through your body.

"taste s'good," he mutters against your skin. "could eat ya' forever."

he sucks your clit into his mouth, and you scream. your hips buck against his face, but he holds you down, his massive hands gripping your thighs. he alternates between sucking and licking, building a rhythm that has you climbing higher and higher.

"that's it," he praises. "let go f'me...lemme taste ya'."

his fingers find your entrance, sliding inside you without warning. two fingers, thick and long, stretching you. he curls them, hitting a spot that makes you see stars, and you shatter.

you come with a scream of his name, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure crash through you. he doesn't stop. he laps at you through your orgasm, drawing it out until you're sobbing from the intensity.

when you finally come down, he crawls up your body, his lips finding yours. you taste yourself on his tongue, and it's the most intimate thing you've ever experienced.

"m-more," you whisper. "m'want more."

his eyes—you can feel them—search your face.

"are you sure? we can stop. we can—"

"i'm sure." you reach for him, your fingers finding his chest. "i want you...please."

he hesitates. you feel the tension in his muscles, the restraint he's barely holding onto.

"m'bigger than ya'," he says, matter of factly. "a lot bigger. and i have...i have two dicks, woman. i don't know if—"

"i don't care." you pull him closer. "i trust you."

he groans, pressing his forehead against yours.

"if it hurts too much, tell me. and i'll stop."

"okay."

"promise me."

"i promise."

he shifts above you, and you feel something heavy and thick press against your thigh. and then another. two cocks. the thought should terrify you, but instead, it sends a thrill through your body.

he aligns himself with your entrance, and you feel the tip pressing against you. he's huge—so much bigger than his fingers—and you wonder if you can actually take him.

"relax f'me," he murmurs. "breathe."

you inhale deeply, and he pushes in.

just the tip, and you gasp. he's stretching you in a way that's almost unbearable. it hurts. there's a burning sensation, a pressure that's too much and not enough.

"shh," he soothes. "you're doing s'well. so good f'me."

he pushes deeper, inch by agonizing inch. you feel your body struggling to accommodate him, your walls clenching around his length. and then—

a sharp pain.

fuck...you forgot.

you cry out, your nails digging into his shoulders. he stops immediately.

"did i hurt ya'?"

you can't answer. the pain is fading, replaced by a strange fullness. you feel something wet trickle down your thigh. warm. sticky.

blood.

his eyes slowly flicker down, and you can hear his breath stop. he's tense. too tense.

"fuck," he hisses. "you're—you're a fuckin' virgin?"

you nod weakly, biting your lip. your heart is pounding fast. loud. "is that...bad?"

"no." his voice is strained. "no, it's not bad. i just—fuck—i didn't know. i would have been more careful, woman."

"you are being careful," you whisper, fingers pressing into his shoulders "keep going."

"you're fuckin' bleeding."

"i don't care. please. i want to feel you." you sniffle. god, the pleasure is making you bold. too fucking bold.

he lets out a shaky breath. "you're going to kill me."

but he pushes deeper, slower this time. gentler. his lips find yours, kissing you softly as he sinks into you. the pain fades, replaced by a deep, aching fullness that makes you moan.

when he's fully sheathed, he stops. lets you adjust. his forehead presses against yours, his breath ragged.

"y'feel incredible," he breathes. "so tight. so...fuck...perfect."

"move," you beg. "please."

he pulls out slowly, then pushes back in. the friction is delicious, the stretch exquisite. he sets a rhythm—slow, deep, deliberate—each thrust hitting a spot that makes you see stars.

"ryomen," you gasp. "r-ryo—"

"i know," he murmurs. "i know, doll. feels s'good, doesn't it?"

"yes—yes—"

his hand slides down your stomach, pressing against the slight bulge where he's buried inside you. the feeling makes you moan.

"look at that," he says, awe in his voice. "you can feel me, can't ya'? right here."

he presses down, and you feel it—the outline of him inside you. it's obscene. it's incredible.

"more," you gasp. "harder—"

"y'sure?"

"yes—please—"

he obliges. his pace quickens, his thrusts becoming more urgent. the bed creaks beneath you, the sound mixing with your moans and his grunts.

"gonna come," he warns. "where do you want it?"

"inside," you gasp. "please—i want to feel you—"

he groans, his hips slamming into yours. and then he's coming, hot and thick, filling you so completely. you feel it—his release pouring into you, painting your walls, claiming you from the inside. his cum is already trickling down your thigh, oozing out of your cunt.

at the same time, he's stroking his other cock. you feel the wet spurts hit your stomach, warm and sticky.

he collapses on top of you, careful not to crush you. his face buries in your neck, and you feel his breath, ragged and uneven.

"i love you," he whispers, gruff. it's funny. you've always thought the word love doesn't exist in his vocabulary. but here he is, saying it over and over again. "i love you so much it terrifies me."

you wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer.

"i love you too."

a long moment passes. then another. and then—

"we're going to do that again."

you laugh, breathless.

"right now?"

"after i clean you up." he kisses your neck. "and then again. and again. and again. until ya' can't walk."

"promise?"

he pulls back, and even though you can't see him, you know he's smirking.

"promise."

you're already half asleep when he pulls you against his chest, his arms wrapped around you like he's afraid you'll disappear. his lips press against your hair, your forehead, your eyelids.

"my wife," he murmurs. "my perfect, beautiful wife."

you smile against his skin.

"my husband."

"forever."

"forever."

2026 ── 𝓦𝐎𝐑𝐊 𝐎𝐅 @atelphobist 𝜗ৎ

ᥫ᭡ | © 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘱𝘩𝘰𝘣𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘭𝘳. 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘥. 𝘯𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘳 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘪.

Josephine looks toward the middle of the backyard, where you and Zayne are resting in-between activities. The heat is getting to you already: you’re fanning yourself with urgency, breaths coming out in little pants. Noting your condition, Zayne takes a timid step forward. Slowly, bluish-white ice crystals coalesce on his hand. When he’s certain they’re finished forming, he holds it out to you.

You take it gladly, beaming as bright as the sun. 

A matching smile lights on Josephine's face. 

She lays a comforting hand on Mrs. Li’s shoulder. “I think they’ll be just fine.” 

──────

For the next two hours, you and Zayne bond.

In the bounce house, you leap around like a caffeinated kangaroo, jumping forcefully enough to knock Zayne off his feet more than once. The first time, Mrs. Li started to run over in concern—but stopped when she heard her son’s light, increasingly rare laughter. 

On the wave slide, you take turns climbing up and pushing yourselves down. While one of you slides, the other remains on the ground, critiquing each attempt and advising on how it could be more “awesome.” Zayne seems to lose interest after his fourth time easing himself down, but he climbs up again anyway each time you call for him. 

The water balloons are the main event. Josephine gasps as you fling one at Zayne without hesitation; it bursts against his black shorts with your elated shrieks in the background. 

Grimacing at the water dripping onto his shoes, he shoves his glasses up his nose in concentration and hurls a bulging balloon back at you. He looks proud of himself when it hits you square in the chest—his mom says he isn’t the best at sports yet—but when you turn your back to him and stomp your foot with a wail, pride quickly turns to panic. He apologizes as profusely as a child his age can, hovering a hand over your shoulder, unsure if it’s okay to touch you or not.

You seem so distraught, even Josephine is surprised when you whip around with a cheeky grin, stand up on your tiptoes, and crack a balloon you’d hidden somehow right over Zayne’s head. As water drips down his hair, his mouth parts in shock, and you call out a triumphant “Gotcha!”

Mrs. Li rushes forward, worried her son will be upset. But Zayne only shakes the droplets off his hair and extends his hand in a solemn truce. When you take it, Josephine notices, a soft pink color spreads across his cheeks. 

Finally, when it's time for cake, you reach up to anoint Zayne with a penguin-patterned birthday hat, cheering so loud that he flinches. When he recovers, he cuts a huge square slice of the blue-frosted sheet cake. He looks remarkably set on inhaling it. 

Mrs. Li watches in exasperation, seemingly seconds from asking, “Hey, why don’t we start with a piece half that size, Zaynie?” But to her surprise, her sweet-toothed son doesn’t scarf his treat down in one go. Instead, he plates it like a junior chef and offers it to you.