𝐆𝐨𝐝'𝐬 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐋𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐫 ~ 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫

The heat has you trembling.

It’s unbearable—burning through your veins, thickening the air in your tiny, isolated cottage until you can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t move without feeling the agonizing, desperate pulse between your thighs. Your body betrays you. Slick drips down your legs, staining the sheets where you try to hide, curled up in the furthest corner of your bed, panting, helpless.

You know what’s coming.

You can already hear him outside.

The slow, deliberate crunch of boots against snow. The deep inhale of your scent in the frozen air. And then—

Knuckles against the wooden door.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

“Kitten.” His voice is all silk and gravel, thick with amusement and something darker. “Open up.”

Your claws dig into the sheets.

Silence.

A chuckle. Then—

The door slams open.

Childe steps inside, shaking snow from his hair, sharp blue eyes glinting as they lock onto you. He inhales again, long and deep, and something in him snaps.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he drawls, voice dropping into something wrecked and wanting. “You smell—so—fucking—good.”

You scramble back as he approaches, but there’s nowhere to go. The bed dips beneath his weight, his body pressing into yours, his scent—pure alpha, thick with need—overwhelming your senses until you’re dizzy.

“Why’re you hiding, hmm?” His lips brush against your ear. “Your body wants me. You need me.”

A whimper. A weak, trembling shake of your head.

He groans, shoving you onto your back, caging you beneath him. “That’s not what your pussy’s saying,” he murmurs, gloved fingers sliding between your thighs. His breath stutters.

“Fuck,” he growls, yanking his gloves off with his teeth before dragging his bare fingers through your soaked folds. “You’re dripping.”

Your body jerks as he grinds his cock against your entrance, rutting like a beast in heat. His voice turns slurred, pussy-drunk, pupils blown wide. “Fuck—fuck—feels so good—”

He forces his way inside.

You choke. The stretch is brutal, his thick cock splitting you open, forcing your body to accommodate him despite your weak resistance. He groans, forehead pressing against yours, lost in the way you squeeze him, the way your body clings to him.

“Made for me,” he slurs, rolling his hips in deep, brutal strokes. “Gonna fill you up—stuff you full—breed this pretty little cunt until you can’t take anymore.”

You sob, nails raking against his back, but it only makes him fuck you harder. His knot swells, locking you in place, sealing him inside you as his hips stutter and—

He spills into you with a wrecked moan, voice breaking on your name.

His teeth sink into your throat, claiming you.

His knot pulses, thick, hot.

And you realize, with horrifying clarity—

He’s not stopping until you’re carrying his pups.

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