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satorugu · 7 months

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In Every Era Part 2 (Sukuna x f!reader)

She is the reincarnation of his love, and he plans to be with her in every era.

PART 1 HERE

Warnings: Blood, violence, fighting, angst, lots of fluff

Note: The readers technique relates to ice and being able to lower the temperatures around her enough to create it. If the text is italicized it is one of the dreams she had. All take place during the Heian era, both Heian era and the version of Sukuna in Itadori's body is included. Takes place during the Shibuya Incident, and quotes the episode's sub at times.

The dreams hadn't stopped.

First, it was that night, the night she fell asleep in his arms.

Then she had another one following it.

Then a third.

It was always a memory from her point of view, so vivid she felt she could still feel his touch when she woke up. They were small, but they got her through the night, always sleeping straight through it.

That kiss was imbued with cursed energy. She didn't know how, but she knew that had something to do with it.

She couldn't take her mind off of it.

Every single night.

"Curses and mutations are mindless, you don't need to harness much cursed energy to exorcise them, although it is made out to be that way," Sukuna said. "If you make a hit on them before they can attack you, you have a better chance at survival."

She was sitting on his lap, up upon his throne. His body heat radiated onto her shoulders, his strong abdomen pressed against her back.

"Is there a reason you're sharing this with me?" (Y/N) asked curiously.

"So you will utilize this information when the time may come my dear," he told her. "Aim for the head."

"I don't think it will ever come," she laughed.

"You are correct to assume that," Sukuna said, putting a hand on her waist and pulling her closer to him. "I won't allow for anyone to harm you."

This was a trick.

The King of Curses wouldn't and couldn't possess emotions like these. He murdered hundreds of thousands, known to be the most powerful sorcerer in history. He needed something from her, to get her to trust him so he could use her and kill her afterward.

These memories were false, she was sure of it.

So she began avoiding Itadori, training after hours and for longer durations to be able to both strengthen herself and not be confronted by the eyes below his. In the end she would return to her dorm exhausted, forgetting that when she fell asleep she would be greeted by what she fled most.

Then a week had turned into a month.

"Master Sukuna had a gift delivered to your dressing room," the maid said almost timidly to (Y/N), as she bowed her head.

She made an emphasis on the fact it was in her dressing room rather than her bedroom. Being that her quarters were Sukuna's, the only part of the palace that was officially hers was her dressing room, which translated to a massive closet. It was filled to the brim with the nicest jewelry available in the lands, along with dresses he had especially picked out for her. It was also a known fact that the garden belonged to (Y/N), although it wasn't claimed by her. She fell in love with the area, so he made it off limits to others.

Unfortunately for her, he was away, handling a nearby village.

Two more servants gathered at the large double doors that led to the dressing room, opening them for her.

Inside was a large bouquet of flowers, white at the tips that slowly faded into a reddish-purple. It was as if they were glowing, vibrant and perky underneath the lighting. The vase was a piece within itself, like clear vines that curled around the stems of the flowers and bunched them all together.

Next to it sat a scroll, bound together by a cursed energy imbued seal. She was quick to unravel it, reading the hand-written, inked message.

'Although I am far away, I will remind you of my love.'

'These flowers are eternal, they will forever stay by your side, just as I will.'

'Sincerely, Ryo.'

She didn't think much of the dream, assuming it was some way of trying to make her think he actually loved her. Instead, she lingered around the campus after hours, honing a new ability with her ice technique. Once she grew sleepy, she returned to her dorm, entering the dark room to see something glowing on her desk.

It was a vibrant and perky flower, with white at the tips that slowly faded into a reddish-purple. While it didn't sit in a vase, it was unnaturally filled with life, acting as a light in pitch black atmosphere.

She thought she was hallucinating, reaching out a hand to pick it up, hoping it would dissolve as soon as she touched it.

The flower sat in her room for a week after that, as she continued to deny the significance behind it.

(Y/N) thought she could get out of having to see Itadori, but it seemed otherwise when another crisis hit.

A large curtain was cast around Shibuya, along with one at Meiji-Jingumae Station. Reports that mutated humans were attacking civillians inside were quick to spread, and both (Y/N) and Itadori were sent to handle it.

"I'll deal with the mutated ones, you search through the station for anymore hostages," she told him quickly, hoping they wouldn't have to interact much.

As soon as the two had met up inside the city, the eyes underneath his own appeared. They felt familiar now, a burning reminder of the dream she had the previous night.

They were in his bedroom, if it even could be called that.

It was larger than the average, with a desk that sat by an extravagant stained glass window, and a large table towards the center. The bed for the two of them sat against the wall, both of them already out of it, yet choosing to stay in one another's company.

Sukuna stood around the table, eyeing a set of scrolls as his wife sat at his desk. The chair was far too big for someone of her size, which he grew to love.

“I want to perform a binding vow between you and I,” he started.

“A binding vow?” (Y/N) asked, having yet to take her eyes off what she was reading.

“A pact bound through Jujutsu, except this one has specific terms accounted with it.”

As the words left his mouth he slipped his hand around her jaw, taking her by surprised as she looked up at him.

"I want to be with you in every era, as you pass, and once you are reincarnated. We will be bound together, it will be destined for you to wed me."

"And it's consequences?" she wondered.

"There are none, this vow is unable to be broken, it will see through that we are meant to be," Sukuna said. "And that you will remain mine."

She wasn't that knowledgeable on binding vows like the one he described, except for the fact it was supposed to leave a mark on your wrist. (Y/N) didn't have one though, so she assumed it was false.

A mutated curse barreled towards her, shards if ice being driven through it's skull as her pink haired friend ran down the hall. She flipped over it's corpse as it fell to the ground, attacking the others before they could make a move on her, and aiming for their heads.

The efficiency behind it was impressive, as she scolded herself internally for doing as the King of Curses had once advised.

And yet she continued for what felt like an hour, going through the motions up until the lights flickered off and she could hear fighting in the lower levels of the station.

Something was off.

(Y/N) jumped down the set of escalators and began running through the station that was almost unrecognizable. She could tell Itadori had fought here, as the remains of his strength imprinted different surfaces.

She was following her gut at that moment, turning down a set of halls until she saw a light bloom at the end of one. She could feel the heat as she got closer, as it formed an orange and yellow blur.

Screams came after the flames.

Two girls who had somehow survived being burnt alive, each coughing and holding onto one another.

As she turned the corner she saw him, Itadori, laying against the wall unconscious. He was littered in cuts, specifically his shoulder which was bleeding out. A special grade curse, Jogo, stood over him, a finger in his hand as he slipped it down the pink haired boy's throat and tilted his head back. She recognized him from the time he fought Gojo, as her eyes lingered over Itadori's figure.

(Y/N) could see the markings on his face.

She thought she might throw up.

"Don't waste my time," the special grade squinted is eyes at the three of them.

He went to lift up his arm and attack, only for it to begin bleeding out in front of him.

"I'll give you one second."

It felt like everything had frozen in place.

Silence in the dark hallway.

"Move."

The special grade fearfully jumped back, now a line of four.

(Y/N) felt her hands tremble, as sweat formed across her forehead and her heartbeat picked up in her ears. They were all that way, as the figure slowly stood up and brushed himself off.

Strength of a different kind than Satoru Gojo.

Overwhelmingly evil.

Fear that even the slightest move could lead to death.

He began to come towards them, as the wounds across his body healed themselves.

As his footsteps grew louder, she felt as if she might pass out.

Then they stopped, and he brushed his hair back in orderly fashion.

"You hold your heads quite high."

That voice.

It felt like there were invisible hands that wrapped around her back, guiding her down to a bowing position without control over her own body. She ended up in the same formation as the other two girls, as a wave brushed over top of the four that would have killed them.

"Did you believe taking one knee was enough?" Sukuna questioned.

The top of Jogo's head was cut off, considering he only kneeled. It was similar to a volcano, purple blood spewing out the top as he bled out.

"The greatest men bow the lowest, or so it goes. I see you value your heads quite lightly."

She could feel him looking down at her, as she stared at the cold floor and begged that whatever this was wasn't real.

She was terrified.

"You brats, I'll start with you," he said. "You wished to speak to me, yes?"

The girl nodded, tears staining the concrete surface below her.

"I'll grant you a fingers worth of audience. Now speak."

"Below us there's a man in monk's robes with a suture across his forehead," the dirty blonde began to say. "Please kill him, please free Geto-sama."

(Y/N) recognized that name, although she thought the man who had it was dead.

"We know the location of one more finger," the girl added. "If you'll kill that man for us, we'll tell you where it is."

"Raise your heads."

(Y/N) still kept hers down, although she could see the two girls raise theirs through her peripheral. It was a moment of relief, as he seemed to have agreed to their terms.

Red.

The head of the brown haired one next to her burst into nothingness, blood coating the other girls face as her corpse fell backward.

(Y/N) felt it splatter onto her uniform, shock pulsating through her veins as terror overrided her senses.

"MIMIKO!" the blonde screamed, shaking the lifeless body next to her.

"Did you think a measly one or two fingers would grant you the right to order me around?" Sukuna asked with amusement in his voice.

It seemed the girl couldn't care less, continuing to scream out her friends name.

"How offensive."

"SUKUNA!" she cried out in anger, slipping out her phone. "DIE!"

As soon as the words left her mouth, it sounded like a blade had cut through something. Similar to the one she heard months ago, when he had saved her.

Then, it sounded like several cuts going at someone at once.

One corpse turned into two, except the blonde had no remains. He killed the both of them without lifting a finger, a copious amount of blood being the only proof.

"You all are desperate," Sukuna turned to Jogo almost knowingly.

(Y/N) felt the invisible hands that once held onto her gently guide her to sit up again, looking at the King of Curses.

"This is the reward for the cursed fingers, come at her," he said, making eye contact with her. "If you manage to land even a single blow on her, I'll work under you all."

"What?" (Y/N) said under her breath, she felt like she couldn't breath.

Jogo slowly looked at her, as if he was making up his mind.

There was no way he was considering this.

"You're true to your word, yes?" he asked Sukuna.

No.

(Y/N) stepped back, like her legs were going to come out from under her at any second.

This was suicide, she couldn't fight him.

"Yes."

Jogos demeaner changed, as Sukuna's hands remained on his pockets and the curse went to face her. He held out his hand, a ball of fire forming within it, as (Y/N) tried to conjure ice in her own.

Again she was airborne.

Too quick for her to react as it all happened at once.

A familiar pair of arms held her bridal style, as she felt herself rest on his chest. It was cold, the fall wind curling around the two as they had fled the building.

He casually dodged them vast amount of fire-charged bullets being sent at him, as he looked down at her.

"Your avoidance has been quite amusing, I see you don't understand yet," Sukuna said, his tone changing into a softer one.

"What have you been doing to me?" she spoke boldly, like a wife would to her husband.

It made him smile, as he leaned on the edge of a building that Jogo shot more bullets at. Soon enough they were inside of it, Sukuna casually walking through a corridor as fire burned around them.

"That's my thank you for ensuring you sleep well?" he spoke teasingly. "I've been restoring your memories, although I knew you would doubt them to the best of your ability."

"They're not real," she mumbled, forgetting what he was capable of.

"And yet how relaxed you are in my hold says otherwise, little one," he said. "Your body reacts naturally to my touch."

(Y/N) opened her mouth to reply but the words never came out, as he jumped through the window of the building and met Jogo's fist. Sukuna was currently holding her securely with one arm, taking up the curse in hand to hand combat. He was quick, catching every single one of Jogo's attempts before holding onto his hand and slicing through his arms with his cleave technique.

The Special Grade was sent flying back, as he shot another beam of fire energy out of his head and (Y/N) watched it blow a whole through a building.

She had never seen a fight like this before.

Sukuna caught up with Jogo, taking his free hand that wasn't carrying her and wrapping it around his cape, throwing him down towards the streets. Smoke emitted from the area that he hit, as he continued to bounce off of it from the force before Sukuna came at him again. This time, he bashed his head into the ground, taking them below the level of the city floor.

She felt the King of Curses abdomen tighten against her side, as he laughed to himself. (Y/N) wasn't looking at him though, as her eyes were on the curse that hadn't landed even a single speck of dust on her.

His free hand slipped underneath her jaw, turning her head to face him.

"Impressed are we?"

Suddenly everything around the two seemed to burst into flames, as the blue skinned curse screamed out and flooded the street with Lava.

This was hell.

Sukuna didn't even react, as a wave of it blanketed over them, yet never touching their skin. He jumped up onto a building that was soon crumbling underneath the hot liquid as well, continuing to dodge without question.

The entire city was on fire, as hands made out of lava held onto two office buildings and lifted them up out of the ground. They surrounded the both of them, Jogo standing on a rooftop in front.

(Y/N) thought she was dead.

Out of pure instinct she took her arm around Sukuna's neck, burying her head into his chest and squinting her eyes closed.

It was only when she heard the sound of the buildings being bashed together, that she realized what she had done. Instead of feeling the impact of her skull being crushed, she felt a delicate kiss be pressed to the top of her head. A large hand then held her hair in a comforting manner, keeping her against him.

"Do you trust me, little one?" he asked her softly, low enough that Jogo couldn't hear.

"Yes."

(Y/N) felt weightless, like she was on one of those amusement park rides that threw you up into the air. Except for the fact that there was no harness, and nothing holding her anymore. Sukuna had thrown her up so far she felt she might touch the clouds, watching his figure dart towards the curse and throw him into a sky scraper.

She could see Jogo come out the other end of it, soaring through the air as Sukuna stood above him. The King of Curses drove his hand into the Special Grades head, sending the two through a roof of another office structure.

Meanwhile (Y/N) began to descend, screaming out and watching as the windows on each level shattered with each level Sukuna shoved him through. She grew anxious as time passed and nothing happened, until the bottom of the building burst out into flames and traveled upwards. She could make out the smaller details of the city now, as she picked up speed in falling and felt the wind course through her clothes. Her best bet was trying to use her ice to impact the fall, although she became distracted by what happened before her.

The building that Jogo had blown up began to form into a ball of fire, and Sukuna was nowhere to be seen.

Or so she thought.

She was trying to conjure up enough cold air around her to form the ice needed to brace her, but knocked into something else, throwing her off guard.

She wasn't surprised when she felt his heartbeat against her side again, but he moved at unregistrable speeds.

Suddenly they were on the ground, in the middle of the street, underneath the meteor Jogo was creating. All of the people around Sukuna froze in place, fear evident in their eyes.

Everyone knew who he was.

"I hereby forbid every person in a 100-meter radius from moving until I say 'now," he started. "And of course, I'll kill anyone who violates that rule."

The silence was horrifying, no one daring to take a step.

"Not yet," he teased.

(Y/N) could feel his hands underneath her weight doing something, as if he was now controlling the ball of fire above them.

"Still not yet."

The ground began to tremble, as it came closer.

"Now."

The sound was overwhelming, as Sukuna brought himself up above it as it crushed everything beneath. He sat down on the meteor, adjusting (Y/N) so she was sitting in his lap, his hands around her waist. Jogo was in front of the two, having yet to turn his back around.

The atmosphere around them was a swirl of orange smoke and broken glass that looked like stars. It floated gently in the air, as more debris from the architecture around them crumbled.

"I've grown tired of this, so I will fight you with your own specialty," he said, allowing for (Y/N) to get up as he stood and faced the Special Grade.

She stepped back, quick to cool the temperatures underneath her feet so she wouldn't burn.

Fire began to emit from his fist, beginning to curl around his figure.

"Arm yourself."

Jogo formed a small sphere of fire in his hand, as Sukuna stretched his own out to form an arrow.

The Special Grade burnt to ashes within a moments notice, while the King of Curses turned around to face the woman behind him.

"Your denial is in vain," he said. "There is nothing I am not capable of, and your death would have already occurred if i wished for it. In your moments of fear you trusted me by instinct, the vow formed between us guiding you to me."

"I don't understand."

"Because you don't want to," he corrected, coming closer to her. "Allow me to show you."

The king lifted her jaw up, taking his hand around the side of her face and kissing her lips.

It felt unworldly, as she slowly returned it and could feel him smiling. Her wrist suddenly tingled, making her to break away to see what caused the sensation.

It was a mark on her wrist, the same one that was on Sukuna's forehead.

"I will love you in every era," he said, taking a step back.

The markings on his face faded, his hair returning to hanging down.

"What happened?" Itadori asked.

She looked into the eyes underneath the original pair, not knowing what to say.

But she understood now.

A/N: I have a part 3 in mind. If you're interested let me know!

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2K notes · View notes

uplatterme · 1 year

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My Dearest, Cupid

a/n: happy valentine’s! i hate the transition. you can see i'm trying to tell something but i can't tell it properly. nothing too daring tbh.

cw: sub!thoma, cupid!thoma, dom!reader, gn!reader | wing kink(?), bondage, blindfold, implied voyeurism

————

Thoma’s fingers shake as he continues writing on his notepad. This is his job, he has to get used to this at some point.

He observes, then he writes.

This is Thoma’s first time being directly assigned to someone. After all his hard work, he’s finally been promoted and is considered capable enough to handle humans.

His first mission is already a freebie, since his goal only concerns a single human, unlike the others who were known professionals who take more than he can even imagine.

The cupid follows you, continuing to take note of the things you do. He’s been doing this for a week now, his notepad filled with random information about you. He knows of your likes and dislikes, your hobbies, your measurements, your schedule…

Of course, it’s just because of his job. He doesn’t…see you in that way.

At this point, the time he’s taking to have you fall in love with someone else is already exceeding the average. He tells himself that it’s just to be careful, that he didn’t want to mess up his first day on the job. However, he can’t hide it from himself that he’s getting cold feet.

If it was Kazuha, he would have helped by whispering verses of love that could increase their human’s possibility of their confession being accepted.

On the other hand, his senior Ayato, would indirectly signal to their human by suggesting what clothes to wear, heightening their confidence about themselves.

Lastly, Miko would be the type to slip something in their human’s drink that would make them feel and look more seductive.

None of those suited Thoma. He’s not great with words to begin with, always seeming to overthink what it is that he says. He’s also not well-versed in the type of clothing that humans wear, so he can’t help in that area.

He sighs. While he could use gadgets that would make this mission easier, that didn’t seem fair or natural.

It doesn’t even look like you need his help anyways. You seem to be doing fine on your own. The only problem was, he doesn’t know who would be the perfect match for you.

Unfortunately, time is running out. He needs to fill up your love meter at the end of the day.

He decides based on what he knows. Your coworker looks the closest to you. All he needs to do is to shoot you with an arrow, and make sure that they’re the first person you see right after, giving you that little boost to profess the hidden love you have within your heart. Then, his objective is reached.

Thoma waits, aiming the arrow while you get out of your car. He sees you fix your hair, bending slightly so you can look into the mirror of your car. He takes a deep breath, swallowing all the anxiety away.

After parking your car, he readies his bow. He knows that your coworker will pass by this area at this time since there’s a meeting that’s scheduled for them today.

“Alright,” He whispers to himself, letting go of the arrow as soon as you exit your vehicle.

The arrow flies straight, hitting your chest directly. You stand there quietly, a weird feeling bursting from your chest. It’s a normal side-effect, so he doesn’t worry.

As he predicted, the coworker exits the building and notices you. They’re only a few feet away.

He counts the seconds left until your eyes meet…your body staying still as they walk towards you.

Everything was going to plan.

Was.

A car enters the parking lot, beeping for you to get away.

Oh no. This cannot be happening.

Your mind is still stunned, needing a few more seconds to recover.

His jaw drops in worry. No way the first human he gets assigned to dies because of an external factor.

He panics. He can’t let you die, but Thoma can’t be seen by humans either!

It’s one or the other. Either way, he’s screwed.

He’ll for sure get suspended for this.

Thoma goes quickly, grabbing your body in his hands and flying away from the situation. He made sure your coworker didn’t see anything, though disappearing out of nowhere is still suspicious.

He bites the bottom of his lips, his tiny wings fluttering in worry…

“Uhm, excuse me?”

Thoma looks down to see you conscious, still trapped in his arms.

He abruptly lets go, unsure of what to say as you stare at him. His wings shy away, this is the first time he’s been seen by a human. Thoma gazes down at the floor, waiting for you to say anything.

“Are you alright?” You question.

“I—Yeah! I-I’m fine!”

The guide to becoming a cupid never said anything about this!

“You know, you’re really pretty.” You blurt out.

Thoma laughs awkwardly, heat starting to show in his cheeks.

“Thank you…”

A compliment. A human is complimenting him. God, you’re complimenting him.

“Do you always wear that?” You ask, eyeing him from top to bottom.

Thoma nods at your question, starting to get embarrassed by what he’s wearing. It’s a lot different and more showy than what humans usually wear.

“You’re not going to introduce yourself?”

Thoma blinks.

Is he supposed to?

“I’m Thoma…I’m a cupid.”

He waits for you to react aggressively. You didn’t.

Instead, you tug the white fabric of his clothes and you look up at him to ask permission.

“S-Sorry. Is there a problem?” Thoma asks, letting you control his body.

You shook your head. Your hands hover over his body, framing it before touching skin against skin. He gasps a short and tense breath.

He stares into your eyes and decides that can’t do it anymore. He squeaks, accidentally letting go of his prized notepad, landing between your feet.

“Oh, you dropped this…huh.” Thoma looks anxious as you keep reading its contents.

“Cupid, you’ve been stalking me?”

You’re not mad, not at all. After all, how could you when a handsome fellow swoops in to save you? Granted, he was the one who put you in danger—

Still, the stressed angel in front of you doesn’t look like he means any harm. Especially not with the notes written on the papers…

Come on, cute doodles of you? Your favorite ice cream flavor?

“You were setting me up?” You conclude.

He nods.

“Thoma, you do know that coworker is married, right?”

The cupid blinks at you, wondering if he heard wrong.

“There’s a ring on his finger. Did you not see?”

He thinks, and then he realizes. You’re right.

He bows his head apologizing profusely.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m glad that at least ended with me meeting you.” You reassure.

“No, no. It isn’t supposed to be like this…” He sighs in disappointment.

“At this point, your love meter won’t be filled!” He exclaims.

You stand still, a soft giggle slipping out of you that turns into a loud laugh.

“I’m sorry. A what?” That name was obnoxious.

“I didn’t name it!” He argues. The more Thoma spends more of his time with you, the more he feels his chest aches.

“Right, right. So, how exactly do you fill it up?”

…

Thoma can’t see a single thing, red cloth covering his eyes.

His hands are tied behind his back. It’s silent, he can’t even hear your breathing to calm him down.

He understands that’s the point, to make him feel more sensitive, he’s…written about these in his notes.

That you’re that kind of lover who enjoys these kinds of things.

“I wonder, how much is it that you know about me?”

A lot, Thoma wants to answer. Though he shuts his mouth, knowing he’ll get into trouble if he says anything out of turn.

“Are you a pervert, Thoma?”

He shakes his head.

You hum disappointedly. “You’re not being honest. Should I read what this note says?”

His body tenses up. “W-What note?”

“Spying on me while I pleasure myself. Don’t you think that’s perverted?”

He’s glad he can’t see your face, he knows you’re shaming him and he won’t be able to take it to see you eyeing him like that.

Your hand slowly caresses his thigh, nothing extreme yet but he knows how this’ll end up.

“Pretty wings.”

A slight pinch of his wings sends the cupid whining, his whole body trembling. “D-Don’t…”

“Do all cupids act this slutty or is it just you?”

“My wings are sensitive…” He says, as if you can’t tell that already.

“Such soft feathers.”

He’s never been touched there intimately. His body reacts almost as if he was under some sort of love spell. Thoma’s body moves as you brush your fingers carefully. You were being gentle, yet somehow that annoys the cupid, he’s not that delicate.

He muffles the sounds emerging from his throat by pressing his face on the pillow. He doesn’t like hearing himself sound so whorish…for the lack of a better term. He writhes on the bed, laying on his stomach while he lets you have your way with him. His ass beautifully bouncing with each nudge.

His cock grinds on the soft cushion, the friction immensely satisfying him, a whimper spewing out. After a while his hips start moving on their own, the teasing of his wings getting to his mind.

“Are you that desperate, angel?”

“It feels good…” He says, moving away from the pillow. He can’t see it but he’s well aware of how he’s drooling on it.

“Alright, I’ll let you.”

He lets out a grateful hum, his wings fluttering as he positions himself. He then squirms as bright light greets him, your fingers taking off the blindfold. Thoma’s taken by surprise, seeing your smile and lifting his body up with ease.

The ties on his wrists make it difficult to resist. Not that he wants to, anyways.

You position him to face you, his hands still behind his back.

“Do it then, since you’re so desperate to get yourself off.”

His mouth gapes, not sure how to reply.

“I-In front of you?” He can’t even look you straight in the eye even when just having a normal conversation and you want him to…do that when he’s positioned like this?

“Must I remind you what your notes say again?” You tease.

“N-No! It’s okay. I’ll do it.” Thoma states.

He grits his teeth, his face burning while he starts moving his lower half.

He’s shaking but it’s more due to the fact that you’re staring at him while he moves his body as if he’s performing for you. He wishes he could put the blindfold back, to at least relieve himself of the humiliation and pretend that you aren’t there.

He can’t cover his mouth or his eyes, forced to sink in the shame.

Thoma’s not good at this, his movements are sloppy, and each tingle he feels has him needing to stop and take a breath before he could continue even further.

You’re not saying anything, just looking at him with boredom in your eyes. He worries. Did he do something wrong? Is he taking longer than you expected?

And just like that, he crumbles.

“P-Please look at me.” He begins to quicken himself, allowing his mouth to let out whatever lewd sounds it wants.

He looks at you, eyes half-lidded from how he knows that each thrust on the bed succumbs him even deeper and closer to his climax.

His pleas eventually mix with moaning. His voice gets louder as he chants your name, as if he’s fucking you when in reality all he’s doing is humping the bed pathetically.

Shit.

With a sultry whine, Thoma’s drenched in white.

White that matches his skin, his wings, his tears.

He trembles looking at you for some sort of approval. He excitedly awaits your response, seeing you come towards him.

“Great job.” The cupid expects a pat on the head with those words, though what comes after was more surprising.

A soft kiss planted on his lips, perfectly soothing away all his worries. The cupid’s heart feeling as if he’s the one struck with the arrow.

Oh no.

He’s supposed to make you fall in love, not him!

#sub thoma #dom reader #sub genshin impact #sub genshin #dom!reader #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #thoma x reader #sub!thoma

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mopeyy · 5 months

Text

Little Hunter

Avatar Frontiers of Pandora

Eetu x Navi! Reader

Vocab:

taronyutsyìp - Little Hunter

woosh. You groaned as another arrow missed the target. No matter how many times you practiced, you still had the aim of a child. How were you supposed to hunt if you couldn't even hit the target? You sighed in defeat as you walked to pick up your arrow. Suddenly you heard a cocky laugh from behind you. You rolled your eyes, knowing who would be there when you turned around. "I guess archery isn't your strong suit, Sarentu." You reached down, picked up your arrow, and started walking back to your position. "Shut up, Eetu; you're supposed to be my teacher, so if I'm failing, it could only be your fault," you suggested. He laughed as he made his way toward you. "It's not my fault you are this way. The sky people have taught you to hold a gun and not a longbow." When he reached you, he tilted his head and clicked his tongue. "I see what's happening. You're standing all wrong. here,"

He stood behind you and pushed you to his chest, fixing your posture. "You need to keep your back straight and loosen your shoulders." He slid his hands up to your shoulders and pushed them back. "And you should hold your bow like this." His hands moved towards your arms, adjusting them, before placing his hands over yours, making sure you were holding the bow right. "Do you see how much better that feels?"

He was so close that when he spoke, you could feel his breath on your neck. You only nodded in response, scared that no words would come out if you tried to speak. He slid his leg in between yours and used it to widen your stance. "Stand like this, nice and firm." He moved his hands off of yours and slid them down to your waist. His voice was next to your ear as he spoke, "Now feel the wind, and when it is calm, shoot."

You watched how the leaves on the trees shook and how the grass moved. When it all stilled and you no longer felt the breeze on your face, you released the arrow. It sliced through the air faster and smoother than it ever had. For the first time, it hit the target. Not completely in the center, but it was better than you had done before.

Eetu released your waist and took a step back, giving you some space. "You're already improving, Sarentu." He said this with pride in his voice. You turned around to face him with a smile. "That was the best my aim has ever been. Will you keep helping me practice?" You hoped he would say yes. You wanted to get better so you could hunt, and you didn't mind Eetus's company. "I can't; I promised I would hunt arrow deer for the meal tonight." You sighed in disappointment. "I take it back; you're a bad teacher." You joked and crossed your arms with a smile.

"ouch, you're hurting my feelings, taronyutsyìp. If I could stay and help you, I would, but I have better things to do." He smiled. You scoffed and turned back to your practice. He playfully rolled his eyes and said, "I'm only joking with you; come find me at the bonfire tonight. We can speak then." He offered. You opened your mouth to reply, "Maybe, it depends if I go." You shrugged. "Right, well then maybe I'll see you tonight." He said, then left as someone started calling his name in the distance.

--------------------------------

The fire was bright against the dark sky and the embers danced in the air. All of Pandora glowed around you. It was a breathtaking sight. The fire was huge, surrounded by dancing Na'vi. And the air smelled sweet, must have been the smell of today's hunt. You could never get enough of Aranahe cooking. You decided to go to the bonfire tonight and try to have fun. It was better than having your ear talked off by Teylan at the resistance base.

You spotted a table full of delicious meat and fruit. mmm. you hadn't eaten all day and couldn't wait to dig in. You squeezed through some dancers on your way to the table. You almost made it until someone grabbed you by the arm. Suddenly you were thrown into a dance by another Na'vi. You were being pulled every which way, so fast that you hadn't even realized you were dancing. Every time you tried to break free you were passed to someone else and forced to keep dancing. It was an endless cycle.

Finally, out of breath, you broke free. You stumbled out of the dance circle, fixing your hair while doing so. You didn't dance often, and you had never danced like that. You regained your breath and continued your previous task: getting to the food table. This time you were able to do so with no distractions. When you reached the table you huffeed in annoyance. Of course, all the food would now be gone.

Someone approaches you and stands at your side. "Were you hoping to eat?" They questioned. You looked to the side and made eye contact with no other than Eetu. "Yes, but I'm too late." you sighed. He laughed and then handed you a kebab stacked with meat and fruits. "Here you can have mine, I only took a bite." He offered. You smiled at him, "Thank you." You took a bite and it had to be the best thing you ever tasted. The meat and fruit made each bite savory and sweet, a perfect combination. He laughed at your eagerness, "You must be so hungry after all that dancing huh." He snickered.

You paused your eating and your ears quickly reddened with embarrassment, "You saw that?" you prayed to Eywa that his answer would be no, but your prayers were not answered. "Of course I saw it, everyone did. Who knew the Sarentu could dance." He said, teasingly. You put the finished kebab down and used your hands to hide your face. Eetu grinned and moved your hands away from your face.

"It wasn't bad taronyutsyìp. You tried really hard to keep up with the dancers, I thought it was cute." He gave you a squeeze on the shoulder in an attempt to make you feel better. You let out a soft smile,

"Maybe I should pursue dancing and quit hunting."

"slow down, don't get too cocky."

You two shared a laugh.

The laughter between you and Eetu lingered in the air. As the night wore on, the bonfire's glow seemed to cast a spell over the gathering, with the Na'vi's vibrant blue skin illuminated by the flickering flames. Eetu's eyes held a spark that mirrored the firelight, and you found yourself captivated by the way his presence seemed to command the space around him.

As the night deepened, Eetu's gaze turned thoughtful, and he leaned in closer to share a story from his youth. He spoke of a time when he too struggled with the bow, how he overcame his shortcomings through perseverance and the guidance of a mentor. His words were not just a tale of personal triumph but a subtle lesson on the importance of patience and practice.

The conversation shifted as Eetu inquired about your life before Pandora, your dreams, and what you hoped to achieve among the Na'vi. You found yourself opening up, sharing stories of your time with the RDA and your own challenges. It was a moment of mutual understanding, a bridge being built between two worlds.

By the end of the night, you and Eetu had learned a lot about each other.

#eetu #avatar frontiers of pandora #avatar frontiers of pandora x reader #eetu x reader #eetu avatar frontiers of pandora

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eetherealgoddess · 23 days

Note

Hellooo! I keep on rereading all your male reader × bonten fics. It's so good. Can you please make another where the male reader is a straight alpha hybrid that is owned by bonten, but against his will? Like, he doesn't like them or the way they touch him because he doesn't like guys. So one day, Mikey was going to the reader's room to cuddle him or baby him, but he was met by moaning and whimpering which made mikey feel giddy but when he went to the room and found out that the reader was masturbating over a pornstar girl he gets mad, like MAD. He'll grab the phone and angrily ask, "what's this?" To which the reader replies, "you know I'm not gay, master." and he calls all the bonten members to punish him. 🥰

i wrote this a little different than you requested but i hope you enjoy it anyway! <3

ꨄBitchedꨄ

Oneshot - Yandere Hybrid Au

❦You're a wolf hybrid who's forced to be Bonten's pet❦

Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader

Not fully proofread!

Japanese language is red

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR & AO3 UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture him as a black male but you can see him however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Bitched

“Say please, Master.”

How did you, a hybrid wolf, who used to be an alpha to a pack get in a situation like this?

“Please, Master.” Your face warmed as you kneeled in front of the man, the palm of your hands placed on the floor as you looked up at one of your ‘owners.’ It was demeaning. Downright humiliating to be in such a situation as this. Especially when you’ve only been a leader all of your life.

The man standing above you bent over with his hands placed on his knees as he became eye level with you. His eyelids were heavy - lidded as he gazed into your irises. His bangs hung over his eyes as the purple mane fell over his shoulders. The logo on his neck prominent in your peripheral as you made eye contact.

“Something wrong, puppy?” The criminal frowned as he gave you a bored look, indicating his annoyance at your behavior. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as a rush of anxiety caused you to immediately act.

With your ears perked up and tail wagging, you straighten your posture as a wide grin forcefully grows on your face.

“Please, Master!” Your tongue hangs out as you lightly pant, aiming to be as enthusiastic as possible. Despite your actions, you are deeply ashamed of yourself. You feel like such a coward, obeying and bowing down to a group of men who have power over you. You were forced to submit, your pack having been slaughtered caused you to become a lone wolf.

It was by chance you were caught up in the middle of a deal gone wrong, bullets flying everywhere while you hid in the alleyway. The whole area was surrounded with men in suits. When you tried to escape, you were caught by the scariest short man you have ever seen. You tried to fight, only to be knocked out immediately by a sudden kick you hadn’t expected.

You miss your pack. Nothing is the same. You miss your pack Luna as well, the woman you were married to. You helped each other through your rutts and heat. The first rutt you experienced in captivity was horrible. A few of the Bonten members were ‘experimenting’ with your body, touching and poking at spots you had never even noticed. The stimulation forced you into a rutt, resulting in the need to breed.

The platinum haired male who had kicked you originally covered your erection with lube before he lowered himself to engulf your throbbing cock. You had never been attracted to males in your life, hybrid or not. Although it was enough for you to release your seed over and over, you weren’t in your right mind. Post nut clarity hit like a bitch and it forced you into a depression that still affects you.

The following rutts grew worse, some of the men bending you over like a bitch in heat. Your masculinity and ego were torn to shreds. You had to escape, you needed to leave. So you did, until you were found.

“Good boy!” Rin pats your head before placing the treat on your tongue. “Your Japanese has improved.” He smirked before grabbing the leash that hangs from your collar, forcing you to crawl along as you enter the office where some of the other executives sit.

You swallow the residue crumbs of the treat as you look down, the bruise on your knees growing the longer they are connected to the floor. You ignore the pain as you sit criss crossed, next to the feet that are crossed once Rin sits in his seat.

“Come ere’, puppy.” The older Haitani who sits next to his brother commands while patting his lap. He smiles down at you while you hold back the urge to slice his throat with your claws. You hate that they call you demeaning pet names. You’re no damn puppy. Despite your feelings, you comply, not wanting to experience the baton again.

You keep your gaze down as you refrain from eye contact with any of the men who snicker as you crawl onto Ran’s lap, your bottom connecting as his arms circled around your waist from behind. His chin rests on your shoulder as he listens to the short man.

Mikey proceeds to talk about the mission everyone is needed for, ordering them on what they should do as well as giving some information about their assignments. You could only make out some of the words that you’ve been taught, zoning out as you lose focus on the situation at hand.

“Y/n.” Your ears perk up to your name as you eye the boss.

“I expect you to be on your best behavior while we’re gone.” You knew that was a threat more than anything, though the excitement for a break without all of them being around you was more distracting than the warning.

“Yes, Master.”

It’s been a couple hours since your owners left and you’ve been searching for anything to help aid your escape. Unfortunately, security surrounds the outside area so you couldn’t leave but if only you could find something, anything.

You sigh in frustration as you slam the papers down, having snuck in Kokonoi’s room where he keeps some of the paperwork in his desk area, having already checked the office. You didn’t really know what to look for but you weren’t finding anything anyway. Thoughts of your wife and pack appear as you become saddened, tears prick your eyes before you groan, your head lying in your hands as the elbows are plastered to the desk.

You eye the laptop in front of you, staring at your reflection as memories of your wife fill your mind. You were so desperate for intimacy, ideas began to flood as you looked down in thought. You missed holding her, cooking with her, making pack rules and implementing them with her, watching her take care of the pack’s youth. You miss her nurturing nature. You slam your fist on the desk as you growl.

You need her. You need her touch. You need her care. You need her to be there with you. For the first time in your life, you felt as though someone needed to save you. You miss hearing her voice, her moans and cries of pleasure. Feeling a twitch below you bite your lip. The last time you had sex with a woman was when you originally escaped.

You were so depressed that instead of finding shelter, food, or income you went to a nightclub and boozed up. You remember the lounge area like it was yesterday.

“Fuck!” You hiss as you thrust into the human woman. The couch trembles under your weight as you rock your hips into her missionary style. She moans as her arms wrap around your neck, pulling your head to her shoulder as her nails dig into your skin.

Considering the lack of a sober mind, it was easy to imagine her as your wife which made you more passionate with your endeavor. You pull back before grabbing her face and smashing your lips to hers, slightly gripping her ears as your cock rubs along her inner walls. Her pussy sucked you in tightly as she bucked her hips against you, meeting the hard thrusts as your pace accelerated.

She kissed back eagerly though the slip of tongue reminded you that she is not who you needed though the person will have to do it. You couldn’t bother to feel guilty as the alcohol takes over your train of thought, this being your only way to gain control of your masculinity once more. As toxic as it was, you were just so desperate. You pull back as you hold the back of her legs up, thrusting before both of you moaned loudly, orgasming as your cum shoots deep inside of her.

Just as you finished, a loud shot rang out right before blood splatters on your front, covering your face. You froze, hands wide open as her legs dropped, eyeing the chunks of human flesh and blood that covered the seat above her neck. Any sign of there being a normal head or face gone as your body trembles seeing the pieces of brain scattered. Blood begins to puddle on the floor as you move back, pulling up your pants and falling off of the seat.

“So you escaped to fuck a random bitch?” Sanzu tsked before walking towards you, gun still in hand. His pink hair sways as he crouches down until he is eye level with you. The scars near his mouth stretch as a toothy smile grows on his face. You tense, ears flat as he brings the end of the gun to your head, tapping gently with each word.

“All ya had to do was let us know you were horny.” He chuckled before pulling the gun back and grin dropping. “Instead, you behaved like a traitor.”

Another presence came behind him as the taller male leaned forward, golden orbs meeting your eyes with disappointment.

“You even lost your collar, Y/n. What a bad boy.” Kazutora shakes his head before snatching the collar of your shirt, forcing you to stand up.

You shiver at the memory of what happened the night you were caught with a woman. They were not happy. The punishment was tortuous and you didn’t think you would survive. Rethinking your idea, you tsked before searching the web, typing on the keyboard of the laptop.

“It’s just porn.” You whisper to yourself. They’d be gone for a while anyway.

Clicking the chosen video, the screen displayed the logo and theme music of the site before playing the actual video. You had chosen a short video so it didn’t take long for you to remove the erection out of your pants and spit in your hand. Slick leaked from your head as you wrapped your fingers around the girth. You begin to slide up and down slowly as the woman on the screen bent over on all fours, the camera showing the angle from the side as the man entered into her. They both moan as you accelerate the motion of your hand.

Desperate you shut your eyes as you listened to her moans, imagining your wife as your grip tightened around your cock, sliding up and down at a steadied speed as your hips slightly buck into your hand. You stop for a moment to rub your thumb along the tip as you place your other hand on the base before the hand holding your cock drops to the base.

You moan as your head falls back, eyes squint as you watch the screen, the couple becoming faster and slightly sloppier with their movements as they desperately move against one another. You buck a little harder against your hand as you slide faster, building the pit in your stomach. Before you release, the grip on the back of the chair causes you to jolt, cum shooting on your own torso as you pant, a grunt escaping.

“What’s this?” You eye the man next to you, his dark orbs boring into the screen before turning his attention to you. You were shaken up, not having expected anyone to be in the building besides the guards.

“P-porn, Master.” His eyes narrow down at you before he straightens his posture, moving to the exit. He paused before taking his leave.

“Strip, Y/n.” Your hands trembled as you hesitate, turning back to look at the dark glare coming your way. Not wanting to test his patience, you comply, tossing your clothes to the floor.

“Crawl.” You lower your body to the ground, tail between your legs with your ears flat against your head. You wanted to cower. You knew this wouldn’t end well.

“Come.” You follow him out of Kokonoi’s room to the bedroom in which you stay when nobody needs your service in their bedroom. Your limp cock hangs under you as you bite your lip in embarrassment. You will never get used to this treatment.

Mikey points to the bed once you reach the center of the room. Some of the executives enter just as you climb on the bed. You sit with your legs hanging off the bed, hands on your lap as you eye them.

“Sanzu.” He states. Said man already understood the assignment, walking towards you before reaching in his pocket and snatching a small bag with a pill in it.

“Open.” He demands, your eyebrows furrowing as you eye the pink pill. Your fingers fidget against your lap as you contemplate what they could be giving you. You jolted before whimpering in pain once he used his free hand to twist your nipple.

“Don’t make me say it again, Y/n.” Your lips fell apart before he placed the substance on your tongue. It dissolves as soon as your saliva touches it.

“This will be a part of your training since you haven’t learned your lesson.” Mikey states, watching as the medicine takes effect.

You begin to feel a heat rising just as a sharp pain shoots through your abdomen. Moisture forms out of your ass and cock as it grows, an ungodly amount of slick beginning to ooze out all at once. Your fingers meet the blanket as your claws pierce through in agony and an overwhelming sense of need.

You couldn’t believe what you were feeling. You’ve never felt anything like this before. All you know is that there’s this yearning to be stretched, full and bred. Similar to how your wife would get during her heat. It was as if you were turning into an omega in heat. Your back drops to the bed as your arms circle around your stomach, repositioning yourself into a fetal position.

“You will learn who you belong to.” Mikey crouched to where his face is in front of yours, watching as the tears stream down your face while a painful tightness forms in your cock.

“You will learn your place.” Rin moved your lower body to place the cock ring around your girth as well as your testicles, drawing a pained groan to escape your mouth.

“Look at you… you were never meant to be an alpha.” You whimper as you feel a pressure behind you against your backside. You attempt to sway your arm to fight back, only to be pinned with your stomach against the bed. The firm wet surface replaced itself back against your anus.

“You’re my bitch.” Mikey hissed just as the toy was shoved into your ass, leaving you no room to adjust as it was pushed all the way to the base. You cry out as it stretches your ass, cock leaking against the bed as you whimper from the pain.

“O-oh… shit!” The toy began to buzz as it stuck deep inside your ass. Tears streamed heavily down your face as the feeling in your stomach grew. Your anal walls tightened around the thick rubber as you looked slightly back to see what was buzzing inside of you.

Kazutora holds your tail up as his hand blocks the toy from slipping out, a smile on his face as you make eye contact through your tears.

“Doesn’t that feel good? Dirty boy.” He teased, pushing against the toy that’s already pressed hard against your prostate.

“Ah…” You breathe out, eyebrows furrowed as your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

“This is who you are.” Mikey says softly, gazing at your heated face and sweat that formed. He uses a hand to caress your head in between your ears.

Your hips move against the bed, aiding in a pressure against your cock as you seek a release. The cock rings are so tight around you. You could barely think properly.

“How filthy. You’re such a desperate little omega aren’t you?” Ran whispers in your ear on the other side of you. You shake your head.

“N-no… I-I’m an alp…!” A harsh smack on your ass caused you to yelp.

“Bad omega. Accept your alphas.” Rin rubbed along the bruise forming from his sharp slap.

The pill that induced a heat from you is making everything more confusing than it needs to be. Their words aren’t helping and it was frustrating. You desperately needed air but the twitching from your cock and stimulation from your ass says otherwise.

“Do you even deserve to cum, puppy?” Sanzu questioned you as he caressed your back.

You gasp in surprise as you’re forced on your back, the buzzing rubber still inside you.

“Awe, look at how swollen you are.” Ran says before gently wrapping his hand around your cock, thumb barely grazing over the tip as your hips buck.

“P-please…” Everything feels so overwhelming, you just wanted to release so you could run away.

“Please what?” You didn’t want to say it. You didn’t want to comply and give in, but did you really have a choice?

“Please, Master.”

“Still don’t know whatcha want.” Ran smirked just as Kazutora pulled the vibrator to the edge of your entrance, drawing a cry out of you. A hand forced you to look to the side.

“Tell me what you want.” Mikey demands, expression stoic though with an intense gaze.

“I-I want to cum, please Master.”

You officially hate yourself.

The tall man lowered his head before lightly gliding his tongue across the head of your throbbing cock. You grunt as Ran’s lips circle around the tip before lowering down your shaft. You thrust once you hit the back of his throat.

“A-ah!” Lips crash against yours as Mikey pulls you in for a deep kiss. Sanzu unhooks your collar before wrapping a hand around your throat, leaning in to nibble your ear.

Kazutora shoves the cock back inside of you, pressing it against your prostate once more as Rin leaves a hickey on your thigh. Just as you near your orgasm, they all pull back at once, leaving your ass empty and cock unattended as well as the rest of your skin.

“He doesn’t deserve to cum.”

“Bad omegas shouldn’t get to release during their heat.”

“Dirty boys should work for their orgasm.”

You cry out as a thick cock shoves itself all the way inside your ass, immediately slamming against your prostate.

Blonde and black hair drapes over you as Kazutora grinds his hips against you, holding your legs up as he pulls back before bucking into you again. You moan out like an omega who’s been stretched by an alpha for the first time.

“Look at how he’s taking it.”

“Such a slutty omega.”

“All those tears for what? You love this shit.”

“Dirty boy.”

Their words were just as overwhelming as the cock hitting your prostate, sliding in and out of your anal walls as it stretched you full. Your cock twitched as Kazutora grabbed your girth, squeezing slightly before rubbing with the thrusts.

“You better not cum.” Mikey said to you from the side.

“Only good omegas deserve to nut.” Sanzu hissed in your other ear.

“Ah, shit.” Kazutora whispers as his head falls back, releasing your cock before putting your legs over his shoulders and leaning over, gaining better access as he grinds against you.

“F-fuck yeah, baby.” His mouth hangs open as he thoroughly thrusts into you for his own pleasure, not bothering to hold back as he nears his release.

“He’s taking it like a whore.” Rin smirked as he watched your face morph in pleasure, the substance completely clouding your mind as you took Kazutora’s thrusts.

“Of course he is. He was made for this.” Ran states as Kazutora reaches his release with a loud groan, grinding out his orgasm as you desperately buck against him for your own, though nothing comes out which causes another intense pain in your abdomen.

Pulling out, slick fell once more. You release a pained cry as they all step back.

“Please…” You cry.

“Take this as a lesson, Y/n.” Mikey says as the executives begin to walk out of the room, chuckling about your suffering as Mikey turns to look at you once more before taking his leave.

“You’re always going to be my bitch.”

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misscinnamonroll16 · 4 months

Text

More headcanons for brozone

Floyd is the first to notice how tense John is. He forces the others (bc they're salty lil shits) to help him to get John to relax

John Dory relates to the mcr song mama. It's a song about feeling like a failure to your parents and wishing you could have been better (at least that's my interpretation). Curse Floyd for showing it to him

Clay still counts on his fingers

Ironically, John has the best handwriting out of all of them. Branch has the worst

Clay moves around a lot in his sleep

John remembers all his brothers little habits. Bruce's maturity shines through when helping him deal with their brothers. Clay's naturally playful attitude. Floyd being a sassy little shit. Even Branch, throwing a slight tantrum to get their attention.

Floyd talks in his sleep, saying super weird stuff. He's done that since he was a baby

JD taught himself how to drive

Bruce pierced Floyd's ear much to their grandma's and John's dismay

They all missed their grandma's cooking but they also missed John Dory's cooking (but you'll never hear them say that)

Clay enjoys reading aloud

Floyd was a nail biter

Floyd can and will steal a straight guys gf just bc he knows he can

Bruce still has tons of products for his hair and skin

Branch cant help but enjoy having his brothers in the bunker that he built for them. its nice having them back in his life even if he's still kind of being a dick about it lol

Clay tells the best scary stories

john will complain while doing something no matter how small the task is. Bruce just chuckles to himself, saying "some things never change"

John is a little jealous of Bruce bc he wants kids (eventually and with the right person) but he doesn't want that pressure of taking care of someone or risk screwing up like he did with his brothers. so he takes every opportunity he can to babysit

the boys had SO MANY nicknames for each other and all of them were annoying little jabs at each other (that they secretly loved)

John dory's joints ache when its about to rain or when cloud guy shows up (we're not gonna talk about how truly old he is)

sometimes it feels like Bruce and JD are having a competition to see who can out dad the other. who falls asleep in front of the tv and claims they were watching it? who mows the lawn at 5 am? shit like that

Clay has really good aim with a slingshot

Branch and John Dory know how to shoot a bow and arrow

Floyd has the highest pain tolerance, mostly bc of nerve damage

Bruce has wet willies, John had noogies

Floyd plans on getting tattoos

John Dory enjoys doting on his brothers, just a little bit

i also have some headcanons about genderbent brozone if anyone would like those

#trolls #brozone #trolls clay #trolls floyd #trolls john dory #branch trolls #trolls bruce #trolls band together #i love john dory a normal amount

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hangesdarling · 2 months

Note

Hear me out…midari and kirari fucking the reader and winner keeps her as a house pet

-anon gay.

she's all mine — m. ikishima & k. momobami

PAIRING. Midari Ikishima x female reader x Kirari Momobami SYNOPSIS. Midari and Kirari are trying to win you as their housepet. CONTENT. 18+, MDNI, fingering, oral sex, power play, Midari cursing a lot, mentions of gunplay (with Midari), pet play (with Kirari), Kirari being quite manipulative (lmk what else) WORD COUNT. 2.1k A/N. omfg anon my two biggest kakegurui crushes battling like this ohmyyyy

It had been hours since they made you kneel in that game room. The cold air fanning over the room had your exposed skin freezing.

Your fingers clenched on your numbing knees as you looked over the game table where Midari and Kirari were. Sure, it started as a simple student council gamble. Trying to earn you as a price for the thrill of it. Kirari even put a nice, heavy collar on your neck to prove her point.

Full house, straight flush, and royal flush landed on the table, each side relentless to beat the other. Midari might have taken reckless gambles but won't let Kirari get too ahead of her, even if the game draws out forever.

"So damn boring," Midari huffed, placing her revolver down, knocking a few chips in the process. "You always bet too low, President."

Kirari shot her a firm look, lips forming a sinister smile. "Well, I'm not the one running out of chips now, am I?"

Midari snorted, shrugging that indirect insult. She might be bothered with her stack of chips running short because of her impulsive bets but worrying was never fun so why bother?

Midari looked in your direction, seeing your head bowed down and knees quivering.

"Hey sweetie, come here," Midari ushered you over with a finger to which you slowly obeyed, almost keeling over from your sore knees as you walked towards her.

With an almost triumphant look in her eyes, she circled an arm on your waist and pulled you to her lap. The small sound of surprise coming from you just made the situation even more amusing to her.

Midari tilted her head to Kirari, a smug smile on her face as she said, "Why the sour face now, Prez? Wish you thought about this earlier, huh?"

Midari playfully patted your thigh, squeezing it a bit just to show Kirari how much she have a grip on you.

"Fondling with the prize because you cannot have her by the time this is over looks more pathetic when you do it, Midari," Kirari smiled, putting down a straight royal flush.

"Huh, you think so," Midari chuckled, putting down the same value of cards. Even before the dealer came to settle the situation due to equal value, Midari signaled her to stop and back away.

"I don't want to bet with these damn chips anymore." Midari shoved the rest of her chips out of the way, others toppling and rolling over the floor. She slid down her revolver in the poker table to Kirari's direction, the barrel stopping right at the president's hand.

"Do it," Midari urged, a firm arm remained on your waist as she set her head down on her other hand, waiting for Kirari to make the shot.

You heard the sound of the cylinder turning, a fast resolute aim from Kirari before a gunshot echoed in the room. You trembled in Midari's lap, your hands shaking when you covered your face in shock. Midari patted your head, pulling you close to her body when she saw you trembling.

She wiped the blood from the small cut on her ear, the open wound bleeding out into the collar of her shirt.

"Terrible fucking aim, Prez," she only laughed, holding a handkerchief to her ear to staunch the blood. "I bet you can do worse."

Kirari put the revolver down and said, "I just don't want this game to end sooner than I'd like."

"If you say so," Midari just shrugged, standing up with you in their arms. "Maybe you can aim better at some time soon, eh?"

After you exit the game room, Midari notices the way your hand shakes against hers. She pulled you aside and raised your face to look at her.

"Hey, sugar, sorry to scare you like that," she mumbled, her single eye had a trace of concern. The blood began to dry on the side of her face. It was almost fascinating how the red had smudged on her neck. It suits her in a way.

"I'm okay. Don't worry. Does your ear still hurt?" you asked.

She just chuckled and shook her head, "Nah, I've had worse than this." Midari quickly offered you a hand which you took.

"Let's get out of here, alright?" she winked before pulling you out of that hallway.

----

"Why the hell do you always wear this collar? It's fucking annoying. And you get rashes from it," Midari hissed, before swiftly unlocking your collar and tossing it on the other side of her room, making the thing thump and rattle against the floor. One hand gently pushed you back to bed as her lips ran along your neck, kissing the reddening rashes trailing to where the collar had been earlier.

"The President made me wear it," you mumbled, a hand tangled in her short hair as her kisses turned into bruising ones, even nipping at your skin.

"To hell with what she wants. I don't want you wearing it around me. Got it?" she ordered, popping your uniform open to have your breasts in her mouth. "Let me treat you like a princess when I have you here."

Midari might be a rough woman of crude words and actions but for the weeks she has you by her side, you were never once treated cruelly like a housepet. Every once in a while, she would order you to sit on her lap during games, calling you her lucky charm as she rubbed your thighs.

After one game of Russian Roulette in the beautification council, you had her hot and bothered by how you put the gun on her neck or kissed the muzzle whenever it was your turn to shoot her.

"You do know what you're doing to me, ain't ya?" a husky voice resounded from her throat as she had you in her lap, spreading your thighs on either side of her.

Midari ripped your skirt off much to your protest, before thumbing on your damp underwear. Your hand clenched around her shoulder, your lips strained from holding back your moan.

"You like it when I flirt with you, sweetheart?" Midari took a careful look at your face, only continuing their hand work when you're nodding. A finger brushed the damp material aside, fingers of expertise teasing your folds before plunging two digits inside.

"Such a good girl for me," she breathed out the moment you were dripping onto her fingers, becoming a whimpering mess more and more. "You can't blame me for not trying to win you over, right?"

Each time with Midari felt like a warm embrace from the earth, her fingers always finding their way to give you utmost pleasure, and her tongue learning to find its way to your folds.

She reminded you of a warm reality, a touch of home, even the cold metal of her gun felt sweet against your mouth.

You missed her touch or the way she pats your head as if you're a cat. But you can't even let that thought linger now that you're in front of Kirari, sitting in her office as her sharp eyes bore through your soul.

The slice of cake she offered you felt so sweet in your mouth, the syrup dripping like honey in your throat as she asked, "Are you enjoying it so far?"

You just nodded politely, wary of how you chew. Her elegant, cut-glass voice had your attention as she smiled, her fork running gently along her own plate with a quite untouched slice of cake.

"Do you like your new collar?" she asked next, eyeing the quaint, beaded collar around your neck. Kirari purchased it specifically for you, it looks more like a necklace than a collar with how heavily beaded it was. It was quite heavy but not enough to put you in too much discomfort.

You just nodded and smiled appreciatively at her, wondering how this thing of trying to win you over would end for both her and Midari. What would come after this? Freedom, a life plan, or an even more inescapable prison? Your fork toyed with the rest of the cream, your throat aching for water to wash all the sweetness down.

"Mind if I take you somewhere?" Kirari offered, urging you to follow her outside.

A week with her felt rather... amusing. She loves it when you tail her around while wearing that nice collar with gems matching her eyes. When you kneel or sit by during her games, or how fascinated you were at the Tower of Doors whenever she tours you around. When you hear her laugh or smile, you forget that she's remorseless enough to treat the whole academy as her aquarium to stir and play around with.

She felt like the divine promises of heaven, the only one rightful to place your future in her hands. Just one soft word from her mouth brings about your submission. She fixes and dresses you up like the perfect ornament in her office, a doll to be displayed.

Despite hours of kneeling where you couldn't even feel your knees right after, Kirari manages to soothe you and make you love her all over again. A kiss on your hair or a gentle caress of your thighs had you right under her thumb once more.

"You're such a good pet for me," Kirari would tell you, patting your hair after having your mouth on her cunt for how long she wishes. She tastes as sweet as the cake she feeds you, her cum dripping down your chin like honey and milk from a generous well. For that, you didn't mind your sore, scraped knees or your overworked tongue.

Her fragrance, her silky white hair, her blue eyes ever-present and watching you— all felt so overwhelming as if you were taken by a divine deity to see the world beneath her feet.

Behind closed doors, she enjoys pleasing you. Her perfectly manicured nails brushed your folds, and spread you open experimentally like learning the keys of a new instrument. Kirari always looked at you in amusement, making you wear beautiful skirts just to make you squirt on them when she was playing with you. Her pet, her doll; she would call you.

You learned to do your hair the way she always does for you, even learning how she puts her makeup on which you emulated later on. In that short period, Kirari was making you hers so Midari remembers her competition every time she looks at you.

One afternoon, you emerged from her office, fixing the new collar Kirari gave you, mindlessly thumbing over the polished gems embedded in your neck. That was when Midari spotted you alone once more, momentarily free of Kirari's eye. She pulled you aside, snapping you out of your dazed thoughts as she pinned you against the wall.

The constricted pupil of her eye had met yours once more, softening and dilating into a much more humane appearance. Seeing you in that light blue dress and collar brimmed her mind of all Kirari's schemes she managed to pull with you.

"Midari..." The sound of her name in your mouth nudged the gentleness in her heart. She longed to have you in her arms after a week of not having you. Midari never wanted to share you with anyone in the future even if it killed her.

Midari brushed the hair out of your face, saying, "I missed you, my sweet girl."

Her hand found the nape of your neck, maybe finding a way to get rid of that collar from you, but found it impossible to do so. Midari only cupped your face in her hands, pulling you into a sweet, sloppy kiss you always loved. Every move of her mouth spoke of how she missed you, her grape lipstick left a faint and sweet taste on your mouth as she pulled away slightly to catch her breath.

"Hey," she breathed, looking at your eyes. "Today will be my final gamble with Kirari. Watch me closely, okay?"

You nodded, letting her pat your head once more as you sank into her warm embrace. She reminded you once again of the warm earth after a sunny morning, the stalks of grass brushing your legs in a grass field. Midari's presence grounded you into reality once again, battling with Kirari's celestial promises for a place in your mind.

You were torn and placed in a situation where choosing wouldn't be the best option.

A cough resounded from your back, making you and Midari turn in that direction just to see the president eyeing your intimate moment cross-armed.

"I suggest for us not to touch the pet until the gamble is over. For the sake of fairness. How does that sound?" Kirari said, her cold voice cutting the warmth off that room.

Midari slowly withdrew from you, squeezing you gently before saying, "Sounds like a load of bullshit to me, but fine. I'll have her as long as I like after, anyway."

Your eyes darted from Midari to Kirari, wondering how your fate would be sealed by the end of this day.

likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated, sweethearts <3

#midari ikishima #midari ikishima x reader #kirari momobami #kirari momobami x reader #kakegurui #kakegurui x reader #kakegurui fanfiction #✂ rem writes____✍︎

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blue-sadie · 10 months

Note

hey can i request a tsu’tey fic? only if you have the time and only if you wanna write it tho

tsu’tey is female reader’s teacher in hunting/archery. after months yn doesn’t seem to make any progress but tsu’tey is patient and keeps giving her tips and everything. but it turns out that yn actually learnt a lot but gets shaky and nervous around him because she’s kinda into him but he doesn’t know that. one day he catches her hunting perfectly and gets mad thinking that she knew how to do it all along and basically just played him and wasted his time. yeah and then he finds out the truth and all is good.

sorry if it’s too specific

and thank you in advance 🩵

I read something exactly like this but with neteyam 🤭

At Fault

Tsutey x Na'vi Reader

Summary: Tsu'tey had distracted you, he made you lost for words but maybe that's a good thing

Warning: none

Yn/3rd person pov

I let out a small breath before releasing the arrow and watching as it shoots through the air landing straight on the target "you've gotten better" neytiri murmured leaning up against a tree.

I looked at her briefly before grabbing another arrow "you may say that but I wish I could do this infront of tsutey" I said aiming it again "every time I try I fail" I released the arrow and smiled as it landed right next to the first one.

"Have you tried talking to him" she asked kicking off the tree and taking the bow to practice and I stood beside her "no" I admitted blushing a little bit.

"When I do I can't even form words or sometimes I get so distracted by him I can't" I huffed out watching as she did the same as me.

"Well you'll have to eventually" she smiled and handed the bow back to me "now if you'll excuse me I have to find jake" she said and slowly wondered into the woods "sounds like love" I called out and got no response.

"Differently love" I smiled I got into stance and picked up another arrow but I could feel somethings wrong my ear flickered at a sound and I quickly moved shooting the arrow towards the noise.

My heart clenched as I saw a frustrated tsutey standing near a tree and an arrow two inches from his face "t-tsutey w-what are you doing here" I stuttered dropping my bow nervously.

He growled coming closer to me with big steps "you can shot" he huffed pointing towards the targets "i-uh" I didn't know what to say "you acted dumb for what" he hissed my breathing hitched I've never seen him like this.

He took another step towards and I took one back scared of what he could do to me I know what he's capable of I've seen him "why did you waste my time" he growled his eyes flaring with anger "i-i don't-" he growled again making me shut up.

"Don't talk to me again, you've wasted enough of my time" he huffed and turned to walk away but as he reached the edge of the training ground I blurted it out.

"Its your fault" I yelled out and gasped as the words left my lips I watched wided eyed as he stopped in his tracks and only turning his head to look at me "what" he muttered.

I quickly cleared my throat and began to play with my fingers nervously "it's your fault tsutey, you make me nervous" I paused and watched as he turned to me his expression changing from anger to curiosity.

"You distract me, you make me forget how to speak" I carried on getting more nervous as he slowly starts to approach me again "I lose my balance everytime your around, it's your fault that I'm so bad" I stated moving my eyes to everywhere but him.

He stopped a few inches away from me and I flinched as he raised his hand to my cheek slowly guiding me to look at me, he leaned down and gently pecked my lips before chuckling.

"I guess I'm at fault"

Tag.List

@erenjaegerwifee @greekgods15 @sweetirilly @neteyamyawne

#avatar #avatar pandora #avatar x reader #avatar way of water #avatar x reader fluff #avatar fluff #tsu'tey #tsu'tey x reader #tsu'tey fluff #tsu'tey avatar #tsu'tey x reader fluff

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captain-mj · 9 months

Note

Hmm what if—

Little red riding hood Soap and big bad wolf Ghost but—

Soap is not a little girl going to grandma’s house but a hunter in disguise trying to lure the wolf out to kill it, however—

Ghost has been watching the hunter with interest for a while and didn’t fall for Soap’s little trick, so—

They somehow ended up fucking :)

OH absolutely!!! Been a while since I wrote straight smut

CW: slight Dubcon? It’s super clear that Soap is interested, but he won’t admit anything because he’s a hunter

Ghost spent a giant portion of his time hunting, so he didn't fall for the little act of Soap's. He knew exactly what he was doing. The little glances around were not the actions of a nervous little prey item, but the experienced actions of someone who knew what to look out for.

It was currently February, meaning it was smack dab in the middle of his normal mating season. The scent of this hunter set his senses alight. They smelled of wolfsbane and... wolf? Right above human? Either way, they certainly got his instincts going if nothing else. Something just rugged enough to tie it up in to a nice little present for Ghost was there too.

He wondered what this hunter would do if they knew the monster they were hunting was not only hunting him back, but thinking of how he'd look knotted and fucked out.

This guy looked very much like he'd whimper if Ghost railed him just right.

Soap went down the trail, spreading their scent. His crossbow was clipped to his belt, Ghost just barely seeing it.

He snapped a twig and silently disappeared in the other direction, watching Soap whip it out and shoot a bolt exactly where he had just been.

Ghost circled around, doing it a few more times until Soap was on edge and aiming at one specific spot. All of his focus was on the small area where twigs kept snapping and not Ghost sneaking up on him.

His hands fit around Soap's waist as he dragged him to the ground.

Soap tried to defend himself but they were too close now and he couldn't get the crossbow between them to hit him. Ghost put one giant clawed hand around Soap's throat and pinned one of other arms, leaving him to pathetically kick and hit at him.

"Stop squirming."

Soap paused. "You can speak? Wasn't expecting that."

Ghost flipped him over and shoved his face into the ground, looking at the red hood that covered him. It went down his back like a cape and it was in the way.

Ghost shoved it to the side and paused.

Soap grabbed one of the knives on his belt and embedded it in Ghost's arm. He quickly bit him where his scruff would be and snarled, both of them at a stand still.

"Knife catch you by surprise?" Soap referred to when he paused, wondering if it was because he had more weapons.

Ghost laughed. "How fat your ass is."

Soap became belligerent. Quickly gasping and thrashing and acting like Ghost had been wildly inappropriate. "You! Don't look at my..." his ears were bright red.

Ghost bit down a tiny bit harder. "Take that fucking knife out of me before I break your spine."

Soap hesitated before yanking it out. "You murderer."

"I've only murdered deer." Ghost crouched on top of him. "No human murdering here."

Soap scowled. "Liar." He finally got the upper hand, kicking Ghost directly in the ribs.

Ghost yelped and leaps back. “I haven’t. Humans have too many bones And the meat is too sweet. Might make an exception for you.”

Soap frowned at him but didn’t move. They both stayed still and just stared.

“Huh.”

“What?”

“For some reason, I believe you.” Soap sat up and slowly got up. “You really haven’t eaten anybody?”

Ghost shook his head. “Plenty of deer to go around.”

Soap slowly raised his bow. “Why did you attack me then? Why not leave? And why make that weird comment??”

Ghost stretched to his full height of 6’4 and his fur stood on end to make himself look bigger. “You hunted me first.”

“Fair point. And that comment?”

“An observation.” Ghost growled softly and Soap scoffed, glancing away. He took advantage of that moment of weakness, running at him and grabbing him again, letting them both fall. Soap’s hands were trapped under Ghost’s legs and he couldn’t move more than an inch. “You should really research creatures you hunt.”

Soap scowled at him before flushing as Ghost forced his legs open. He didn’t plan to do anything to Soap. Especially not anything unwanted. However, he definitely wanted one thing and that was to find out where the scent of wolf was. And also to maybe enjoy more of him. Perfect material for later.

He pressed his nose to the inside of his thigh where his arteries were.

Soap was hard. He felt it against his cheek. His entire face was bright red as Ghost kept his legs open. There wasn’t an ounce of fight in him as Ghost continued to sniff over him. He found the piece of wolf hide in his pocket and felt a tad betrayed.

Soap hummed. “It was that or dog piss. Heard both attract you guys.” He glanced down and saw the way Ghost was tensed.

Ghost ran his nails gently over his chest. “How evil. To trick a wolf looking for a mate like that.”

Soap turned bright red. “Oh. Oh.”

Ghost grinned, giant teeth showing. He started to drag him to his cave and Soap started to fight again. “Wait. Wait!! I wouldn’t be a good mate. I’m terrible at cooking.”

“Got thick thighs. All I really need.”

“You can’t even breed me!”

“I’m sure I could try.” Ghost looked down, noticing that Soap was not bothering to grab his crossbow. “I should at least try knotting you a few times.”

Soap flushed as he was put in Ghost’s nest. The bow was clearly dropped by the entrance. “What about…” He went quiet as Ghost grabbed him and undressed him roughly. His thighs went around Ghost’s shoulders.

“You smell sweet.” He ran his tongue over the vein in his leg before nuzzling into the soft skin. “Really sweet.”

Soap tried to kick him but Ghost wouldn’t let him. “Awa' an bile yer heid.”

“Speak English. If I can learn your language, you can speak the one I know.”

That red cape stayed on.

It was the only thing that stayed on Soap as Ghost started to lick at his body. He couldn’t use his claws to prep him so his tongue would have to do.

Soap did whimper. They were small and stunted, clearly he wanted to cover them. But Ghost heard everything. So he pushed his tongue into him instead of just teasing.

Soap jackknifed, hands scrambling to tangle into his hair. He shook slightly before a tremble ran up his spine. “So good. So deep, Jesus.”

Ghost didn’t bother responding. He just enjoyed his meal until Soap had saliva running down his thighs and he had been loosened up. Soap had long started begging for something. Ghost wasn’t sure if it was for him to stop or give him more but he was yanking Ghost close and crying in pleasure every second he could.

Slowly, making sure to draw it out, Ghost pulled his tongue away from Soap’s now gaping hole. Soap whined and clenched desperately around nothing.

Ghost yanked him around, positioning him so he was presenting. Soap arched his back like he was trained to do it, hiding his face in his arms as if embarrassed.

“Are you big?”

Ghost lined up, not answering verbally. Instead he just started to press himself inside.

Tight.

So tight.

His brain stopped functioning, only able to focus on thrusting more of himself in.

Soap panted in arousal and he spread his legs a little to give Ghost more room. Despite how big Ghost was, he made it look easy as his eyes rolled back. He whimpered once Ghost had almost finished sliding in.

“So big. What the Fuck.” Soap wiggled his ass enticingly and Ghost slammed in the last couple of inches. He wailed at the feeling and then broke off into little whimpers. “Splitting me open.”

Ghost’s head felt fuzzy from a mix of Soap’s compliments and the tight, hot thing around him. He was supposed to let him go for other people after this? No. He’d convince him to stay. Only Ghost got to enjoy this.

Maybe he could train him so he could only cum on his knot. Imagining Soap having to come back, sexually frustrated and needing something only Ghost could give him.

He finally started moving, now sure Soap wouldn’t break apart if he did.

“Soap right?”

“You can call me Johnny.” He said, looking blissful. Tears were running down his face and one hand was now pressed to his stomach where Ghost was. “Oh god, it’s so good. So much.” He cut himself off to scream as Ghost found something.

Ghost sped up and planted by his ear. He bit at his throat gently, slamming in over and over and over again.

Soap sobbed as he came all over himself, eyes rolling back. His legs were shaking so hard, they gave out, only held up by Ghost’s hands.

Soap sobbed harder when Ghost started to knot him. Ghost worried for a minute he might actually be hurting him until he heard the frantic pleading for him to break him open. He was clearly enjoying himself.

When he finished knotting him, he came, rocking insistently right against his prostate the whole time.

“There we go.” Ghost slapped his ass. “Told you, nice thighs were all I need. An accent doesn’t hurt.”

Soap nodded. “Aren’t you going to pull out?”

“You don’t want me to do that.”

Soap growled at him before shifting and gasping. “How long until your knot goes down?”

“Long enough for me to recover for round two.”

“And how long do you plan on keeping me here?” Soap sounded cheeky.

“As long as you’ll let me.”

Ghost proceeded to pin him to the wall and fuck several orgasms out of him. Soap barely seemed coherent towards the end, legs trying to keep Ghost moving.

Cum was running down Soap’s legs as Ghost continued, searching for his own release. He felt Soap shudder and cry into his shoulder.

“I can’t keep… Fucking hell, you’re going to drive me insane.”

Ghost picked up the place at that and Soap held him tight. He screamed properly when knotted this time, sensitive and sore and open enough that there was a sweet sting of pleasure to it and Ghost watched his cock twitch.

Soap stared at the ceiling, clearly trying his best to collect himself.

“So what position do you want to do next?”

Soap whimpered but when Ghost licked at his tears Im apology, he leaned in.

“Can we do it on the floor again? Me facing you this time?”

Done.

Ghost regretted not doing this first. Soap’s ankles were by his ears as he pounded into him. His whole body was getting more and more instinct driven. It was a shame Soap simply wasn’t capable of really coming anymore. The little masochist was still enjoying it, but he was tapped out.

That didn’t mean Ghost didn’t put all his effort into making him. Poor thing looked positively broken.

“Johnny.”

“Mmh.” Soap managed, clearly in a state of bliss.

“You alright?”

“Please keep knotting me.”

That was all Ghost needed. He adjusted his position and started to pound into him, making Soap twitch and clench around him with every thrust.

“You were made for this. Being bred by me. Wonder what everyone would think if they knew you. A great hunter was so easy.”

Soap whimpered And his cock started to leak again.

Ghost grinned. “Forgot to check the month and now does nothing but take a monster’s knot. Being bred and broken, yeah?”

Soap nodded immediately. “I want that. Yes.”

Ghost knotted him right then and there’s, watching him almost pass out as they came at the same time. He knew he could drag another one out of him.

“I’ll give it to you, Johnny. Don’t worry.”

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #call of duty modern warfare ii #cod mw2 #ghostsoap #soapghost #cod #ghoap

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persefolli · 1 year

Note

Hi can I request a Tonowari and Jake fic where their female Metkayina mate is smaller than them and that makes them more protective of her and one day she comes home exhausted and very sore from hunting and all her muscles hurt and lies face down straight away barely acknowledging them as she is very tired. They come over to her and start kissing her back and neck softly and massage her body to get rid of the knots in her muscles, she sighs in relief feeling very relaxed and can’t keep her eyes open, she falls asleep purring and they laugh softly calling her kitten and saying how cute she is and kissing her face softly and cuddling up with her on both sides falling asleep themselves as she is warm and soft and they find it very comforting? Thanks 😊

𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐩𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐬

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐓𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐢 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐒𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥-𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞…𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬???, 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟

You hummed peacefully as you swirled and threw the fishing net into the water. You'd been at it for a few hours now, but the sun was beaming and the fish were scarce. Dipping into the water for a quick moment, you emerged to see a Metkayina male standing right in front of you. Gasping you stumbled back and dropped the net, looking at the man offended.

“Sorry! They need your help in the forest. ” He pointed behind you where a group of Metkayina stood holding crates and weapons.

“Why me?”

The male shrugged. “I dunno, they said you know the best way to catch large animals.”

You groaned and raveled your net up, walking over to the group and following them to the forest on the island. Months ago you had traveled to the rainforest and killed a Thanator. Ever since, you had the notoriety and fame from taking down and bringing home the creature.

You’d taken a break from hunting, opting to fish for a little while before returning to the hunting scene. The fact that they had called you back to the forest so soon irritated you just a little, but as the lover of Tonowari and Jake, you couldn’t decline.

During the expedition you had divided the group into two, the tracking team and the killing team. You curated a quick plan that would allow the lot of them to locate and kill the animal. You had to give them pointers, physical pointers because they were such horrible hunters they were way in over their head.

Having pulled a muscle in your last hunting experience, your shoulder blades tensed as you positioned yourself to aim the bow to show them. This continued all day until you left the group, believing that they would be able to find the creature on their own.

You walked back home, sleepy and sore from the day's festivities. The lights in your home were already on, and you groaned, knowing the bright light was bound to give you a headache.

Walking in the pod, you dropped your bow and arrow near the entrance and shielded your eyes with your arm.

“Sweetheart. You’re back late.” Tonowari greeted.

“Yeah, long day.” You walked right past the Metkayina male and went to your shared bedroom, laying down and closing your eyes.

In the distance you heard shuffling, then stillness. A simple knock on the doorway, and you knew they had followed you. “Come in.” You said silently.

You heard their footsteps come closer, before feeling their warmth next to you. “Was today that bad?” Jake asked.

“My arms still aren't up to par. Think I fucked up my back.”

You felt a warm hand trail up your spine, until it pressed slightly towards the left side, where the strain was.

“Fuck!’ You grunted at the sensation. “Push harder.”

Jake did as you said, and pressed his palm into your back. Harder, and harder, until the three of you heard a pop.

“That's right,” You exhaled out feeling the relief.

“You like that, don't you kitten?” Jake cooed, placing a kiss on your cheek. You smiled and nodded into the mat, without opening your eyes.

Tonowari scooted down to the edge of the mat, where he began kneading the back of your thighs and calves, relieving them of the tensity that had built up inside. Jake's hands attacked your upper body, squeezing and molding your arms and upper back to a relaxed state, a feeling you had not experienced in weeks.

You began purring and fell into a world where your body was back to normal and you were able to run and hop the way you wanted. Where you could be as flexible and mobile as you wanted to.

Their moving hands turned into slow pecks on the back and legs, kissing random spots of your back. Their soft plush lips made you smile, knowing that their only motive right now was to comfort you. You purred yourself to sleep, causing the two men to pause on their affection, and move to comfortably tuck you into the bed. Soon after, they laid right next to you, having been just as sleepy as you were.

#persefolli #persefolliwrites #wattpad #avatar the way of water #angst #atwow #jake sully #avatar #avatar2 #tonowari #tonowari x reader #tonowari x reader x jake #jake x reader #jake sully x reader #jake x reader x tonowari

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yuurei20 · 3 months

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Rook Info Compilation part 15: Rook and Vil (pt4)

Rook says that, once they were better acquainted, one of the first things that Vil told him to do was to take care of his nails, as his hands were callused from gripping his bow string, with his skin dry and cracked.

Rook says that he hardly paid attention to his hands because he typically wears gloves (in the game guide there is a memo about how Rook wears gloves as often as he does in order to not leave fingerprints).

Vil says that Rook did not leave a very good impression when they first met: Vil was reading a script on a bench in the school’s courtyard when Rook approached him to compliment him on being a convincingly cold, tyrannical, tantrum-prone fiend in a recent play.

Rook claims he was “terribly nervous,” but Vil calls him a liar.

Vil explains that, after that first meeting, Rook started approaching him without any encouragement from Vil to “share his completely unsolicited opinions on (Vil’s) performances, then go on his way. Both his positive impressions AND negative ones.”

Vil says that over time he realized that Rook’s observations were oddly perceptive. One day he asked Rook how he would have performed a certain scene which Rook spoke critically of, and “He went on for FIVE HOURS STRAIGHT.” (Rook: “What a rewarding discussion that was.”)

Vil says that he had been convinced that he knew more about theater and art than anyone else his age, but “Rook quickly disabused (him) of that notion with his breadth of knowledge.”

After that, the two started meeting up regularly in the courtyard after school.

At the end of Book 5, Rook justifies voting for Royal Sword Academy by explaining that Vil lacked conviction: “No amount of validation from the rest of the world will ever leave you fulfilled. Even if you wind up old, grimy, and stooped over, if you were to truly believe that you are the fairest of all despite that, even the Magic Mirror of legend wouldn’t contest your claim. The strength and pride to believe in yourself is what marks the true fairest one of all.”(This scene later plays out as Rook describes in Book 6.)

Rook and Vil were on the same team for Beanfest in their second year and Rook says that “no one could mount any effective resistance” against them.

During pre-event stretches Vil notices that Rook’s shoulders and thighs have more muscle mass than usual. Rook explains that he had spent the previous month doing higher-intensity training specifically in preparation for Beanfest, as his wish to compete against Vil was granted.

Rook immediately pairs with Trey for the event, citing that teams need leadership to persevere, but during the game he asks Trey to not interfere with his capturing of Vil, which he successfully does after Vil runs out of beans. (Vil: “You’re stooped low, crouched like a predator. I can barely keep my aim trained on you!”)

During Phantom Bride Rook comments, “Would a bride who’s spent so long seeking her groom be willing to relinquish him? Were it myself, I would never let my dear beloved go.”

At the end of the event Vil is displeased with how long Epel and Rook took to come to his rescue and Rook apologies, saying, “I found myself lost so often without you to light my way,” but Epel points out he had actually been “busting up ghosts with giddy abandon.”

#twstrook #Rook Hunt #twstfacts #rookfacts #twisted wonderland

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trove-of-tales · 1 year

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Three Attempts - Nikolai Lantsov

Nikolai Lantsov x Fem!Reader Summary: When an assassin was hired to kill the infamous privateer of the Volkvolny, she finds herself less and less able to make the killing blow. Third times the charm, though, right? Warnings: Strong language, smut, violence, angst, Nikolai being a bit possessive and an author who doesn't know how to use Tumblr :) Word count: 10K

The Volkvolny was a pretty ship. It almost didn't belong in Ketterdam's 5th Harbour. Still, I couldn't complain about the placement.

It was easy to board the ship, sneaking passed each and every crewmate until I found a decent hiding place at the bow of the ship, behind some wooden crates. My eyes scanned the ship, catching sight of a flash of teal.

Sturmhond was a well-known privateer, though he was younger than I'd expected him to be. He was tall, his hair an odd shade of red, eyes a muddy shade of green as he strolled next to a taller, buff man. Upon closer inspection, his nose was crooked, like it'd been broken too many times and not set properly. The man next to him was Tolya Yul-Bataar, my intel telling me he was close to the privateer.

"Tamar would have your head if she found out you were gambling." Tolya grinned at the privateer.

"Can a privateer not indulge in games with his own money?" Sturmhond laughed.

"Not when he drinks too much and loses everything." Tolya retorted. They stood together, shoulders loose, talking amongst each other.

I stayed silent, watching.

"Tolya!" A woman bellowed from the helm.

Tolya cringed. "I'm going to get blamed for this, aren't I?"

"Ah, yes, I might have put a few rounds in your name." Sturmhond confessed, grinning. Tolya shot him a look before he stalked off to the woman.

It was silent as Sturmhond stood mere feet away from me, gazing across the horizon, the sky darkening considerably.

"If you plan to kill me, at least do me the honour of leaving my pretty face unmarked." He said into the silence of the sunset.

I froze. Surely not, he couldn't possibly have-

"My dear," He turned to the wooden crates. "As much as I adore the build up to an event, if you're going to kill me, I'd rather it be sooner, than later."

I stepped out from my hiding spot, squaring my shoulders. My dagger was gripped tightly in my right hand, the blade catching the light from the setting sun. Sturmhond grinned at me.

"Oh good, for a moment there I thought I was talking to the waves." I bit down a growl at his words. "I assume you've been hired, dove."

I say nothing as I stalk closer to him. He was tall and gangly; I could easily take him.

"Well, you've lost the advantage of taking me by surprise." He continued speaking. "Brute force is what I'd assume your next tactic is."

As he said that, I lunged. My blade centimetres from his throat, he caught my wrist and threw my arm away. I lunged again, aiming for his heart this time, where he sprang back, the blade nicking his bicep. I swept my leg out, plunging my blade towards his stomach. I missed every single time.

Sturmhond grabbed my wrist with surprising strength, holding my arm straight as he stood beside me. I grunted as I moved my other arm to catch the blade as I dropped it, but he held that arm too, kicking the dagger away from us. I panted, furious.

His seawater scent, mixed with something expensive, floated around me as I glared at him. He tilted his head, eyes sparkling.

"May I ask, my dear, why were you planning to kill me with a child's dagger?" He taunted. I stared at my dagger mere feet away from us.

I stayed silent, my nostrils flaring. I'd never missed a target before. None had sensed me before I’d killed them and yet, there he was, still alive. I'd boarded this miserable ship to kill him, and he wasn't dead. I growled darkly at him, trying to break his grip from my arms.

"Not very talkative, are we?" He squeezed my wrists tighter, and I found myself loosing a breath. He leant in close, moving to my front. "Do you know what I find so interesting about you assassins? You're all so utterly predictable."

I spat at him, my saliva landing on his left cheekbone.

He didn't flinch, the spit rolling down the side of his face, yet he made no move to wipe it off. Just squeezed my wrists tighter, causing me to wince.

"Shall we try that again?" He said, darkly.

"Get off me." I snarled.

He chuckled. "But you didn't answer my question, dove." I refused to speak. With a swift sweep of his foot, I was on the floor, Sturmhond kneeling above me, my wrists held above my head. My blade was pressed against my neck, so quickly I hadn't even seen him grab it. "I said, 'Shall we try that again?'"

I struggled beneath him. I hadn't expected him to be this strong. I'd expected a laid back, pole of a man, yet he'd pinned me down to the floor so effortlessly, not even a hitch in his breathing. I'd underestimated him.

At my surprise, Sturmhond grinned. The dagger was removed from my throat and placed in his belt. "Nice blade. I think it'll be lovely to add to my collection, don't you think?" He sat back on his thighs, legs still trapping my body to the ground. When I didn't answer he sighed, as though disappointed.

The pirate stood, brushing off the invisible dirt from his teal coat. He stared at me, disinterested, before turning and walking towards the stairs. He paused, turning back to me expectantly.

"Come along, dove." He said. "I hardly think above deck would be the best place for such a conversation. I'd hate to get my crewmates involved." He pointed at Tolya and the woman, Tamar, who were stood at the helm, glaring at me. "It's easier for you to follow me. I'm a lot gentler." He winked.

I glowered at him before moving to follow. At the end of the corridor, he opened a heavy door, stepping aside so that I entered first. It was a plain room, the most notable feature being the large desk in the centre. I realised my mistake as the door behind me slammed shut, lock clicking as Sturmhond turned the key, slipping it into his pocket. He'd locked me in here.

The room was silent around the two of us, eyes meeting, tension rolling. Scanning the room, I saw no other way to leave, just the locked door behind the privateer. Speaking of, his pond-water-green eyes studied me, closely.

I clenched my fists at my sides. He may have taken my dagger, but I could still fight my way out of this if it came down to it.

He smirked as he strolled closer. His eyes scanned me, leaving me exposed as I glowered at him. To myself, I wondered who the hunter really was, and who the hunted had become. "Do you have a name?"

I stayed silent. my chin held high. Internally, I was confused. He knew I was going to kill him and yet, there I stood, alive. Surely the smartest choice would’ve been to kill me before I killed him.

He sighed at my lack of answer. "So proud, dove. But I don't need a name, I suppose. Just exactly what you'd planned." His eyes turned cold, teeth clenching. He gestured to the seats at his desk. "Sit down."

I obeyed, sitting on the edge of the seat across from the larger chair behind his desk, which he took a seat on. He poured two glasses of amber liquid from a decanter before picking his own up, raising it to is lips, slowly.

He pushed my glass forward, my eyes scanning his hands. They were covered in nicks, cuts, scars, and calluses; the hands of a man who did heavy labour, and who did it frequently.

"Drink." He gestured to my glass. I hesitated, wondering if it could be poison. Though, if he wanted to kill me, I suspected he’d go for something a little less plain. I gave in, taking a large mouthful of the bitter liquid. I stifled a cough.

His eyes followed my every move. As I placed my drink down, his eyes narrowed again.

"It's not poison, if that's what you were wondering." He explained. "Just something to loosen the tongue. What do you know of me?"

"You are Sturmhond. Privateer as you like to call yourself, but I prefer the term pirate." I spoke, voice low and threatening. He rose a brow.

"But Privateer just sounds better, wouldn't you think, my dear?" He smirked. "Nasty, dirty, violent things, pirates. With a term like Privateer, it commands respect. And really, I just smell too good to be a pirate. Continue."

"You're younger than I was told you were. And stronger." I told him, aggravated. "I was expecting a drunk stick of a man and yet..." I trailed off, eyes dragging over his body. "You're surprisingly strong."

He flexed, vainly, at me, causing me to draw me gaze away, disgusted. He let the comment go to his head, smirking. Pirates.

"And what else, dove?" He leaned forward in his seat, slightly, forearms pressing into the hard wood of his desk. He'd said the words quietly, like it was some sort of intimate question. His seawater scent washed over me again. His muddy green eyes seemed to change, like a forest at twilight, the bark still shining, but darkening as time went on. He stared at me, the room fading around us. I broke my gaze.

"You've pissed off some very powerful men. Powerful men that wish to see you dead." I crossed my arms, ignoring heat forming on the tips of my ears. "That's why I'm here."

He chuckled, a low and deep tone, his grin almost mocking. "My dear, you're going to have to be more specific than that. Most powerful men want me dead. I'd be surprised if there was one who didn't, at this rate." He leaned back in his chair, lazing on it like I hadn't threatened his life. "I suspect there are powerful men that want you dead, too. Tying up loose ends and all."

I snarled. "Powerful men don't want me dead. Powerful men want to hire me to kill people like you. And then hope they can spend the night with me." I told him, leaning forward on my seat, eyes a wildfire.

He was silent for a few moments, before he smirked, crossing his arms. "So, killing people like me, bedding powerful men, getting paid. Must be a very fulfilling life."

I scowled. "I kill people, I get paid, that's all there is to it. I don't care what they want from my body." I was in control; I was always in control.

"And I assume they pay you handsomely, to kill people like me." He purred. His tone was light, teasing, yet his body language was tensed, calculating. The room was silent as he studied me, eyes wandering over my figure. I shifted in my seat, unable to read the expression in his eyes, the hair on my arms stood up straight, bumps appearing on my skin.

He sighed.

"Tell me, dove. What does power feel like, to you?" He tried again, his voice suddenly sharp, dangerous. "What does the feeling of holding a life in the palm of your hand feel like?"

He laughed, cruelly.

"I'd imagine you take much joy in it."

I squared my shoulder as I stared at him. "It feels great." I lied through my teeth. I wouldn't let him see the real me, crawling beneath my skin as I watched him study me. I was the ruthless, cold-hearted assassin, and that's all he would see. All I would allow him to see. "It feels wonderful."

"And yet here I sit, alive." Sturmhond taunted. I flashed him a glare, my shoulders tense. "How much were they going to pay you?"

"Fifteen thousand kruge." I told him.

His eyes narrowed. "I'm not sure if I should be insulted. I'd expected a little more than that but..." His eyes met mine. "I'll double that, and we can pretend this never happened."

"There are four contracts against you. Putting the grand total at sixty thousand kruge." I smirked, unkindly. "Give me a better offer and I'll think about it."

"Such a clever little negotiator." He mocked. He grinned wickedly at me, my heart skipping a few beats. His eyes: something about them was dangerous, like a predator hiding in the bushes. He leaned closer and for a shocking moment, I felt what it was like to be the rabbit the fox hunted, hunger in the beast’s eyes. "Seventy-five thousand."

"One-hundred thousand, take it or leave it." I choked out.

The corners of his mouth curled. "I do think that's a bit unfair, dove." he stood, walking around the desk, sitting on it to my left. I turned, raising a brow. He grabbed my glass and refilled it, holding it out to me. "I suppose I may agree to your conditions."

"Do you have that much money, pirate?" I spat, taking a sip of the amber liquid. It burned as it made its way down my throat, my chest warming.

He pulled a face. "Privateer. And why should I not have that much money?" He refilled his own glass, taking a swig of it as he placed the decanter down. His eyes traced me, a strange glint in his eyes. He oozed confidence. "What makes you think I couldn't pay even double that?"

"Because you're a lowlife scum pirate." I snarled. "You steal and kill and drink. No, I do not think you have a spare hundred thousand kruge lying around."

The small smirk faded from his lips, as he placed down his glass, turning to face me. "Do you know what I find funny?"

I stared at him.

He leaned forward, practically eye-level with me, mere inches from my face. "I could kill you, right here, right now. I don't have to pay you a single coin. You are defenceless and you sit in a locked room with me, with a severe disadvantage. And yet here I am, offering you more money than you'd get if you'd killed me, and you still think you have the advantage?"

The humour in his gaze was gone, and I could truly see why this man commanded respect and fear wherever he found himself. And there I was, poking the bear.

"I'd like to see you try." I challenged, breathing out, sharply.

He said nothing, and for a moment I thought he'd actually do it. That he'd tired of the circles we'd run and was finally going for the killing blow. His face softened and he scooted closer along the desk as he gazed at me. "Join me."

I stood from my chair, walked past him and over to the locked door. Sturmhond stayed sat on his desk, watching me. I ignored him, pulling two lock picks from my corset and inserting them into the lock of the door. I could feel his gaze on my back as the door clicked and I swung it open, pausing in the doorway.

"The next time we meet, I won't miss." I promised. "I will kill you and you will not be expecting it." I did not turn to see his face.

He chuckled, the sound causing my shoulders to tense. "Try," He simply said. I heard his footsteps echo closer to where I stood. "Try again. I dare you."

I curled my lip. "I won't need to try. I know I'll succeed." With that, I began to walk up the stairs.

Sturmhond caught my arm, pulling me to a halt as we reached the deck. The hair along my arms rose and my skin pebbled. I felt his breath against the back of my ear, his body heat hitting my back. He was too close.

"Are you so sure you want to take that risk?" He mumbled, voice low and gravelly. The deck faded around us as my senses reduced to him and how close he was.

I said nothing.

It was silent for a few moments, neither of us making a motion to move away. He sighed, the feeling bouncing off the back of my ear and the side of my neck. He let go of my arm and stepped back, coldness filling the space at my back once more. I was thankful for the cover of the night sky.

"You're free to go." He said, coldly. I still refused to turn to him, my gaze resting upon the railings at his ship. "But I await your next attempt." There was an underlying threat to his words.

I jumped from the railings, disappearing from view. The further I got away from the Volkvolny, the better I would feel.

It was several months later before I tried again.

The Volkvolny had docked at Novyi Zem, and its privateer had booked an Inn not far from Weddle. It was a decent Inn, the walls thick, freshly painted and not chipping, a door that locked, a wonderful windowsill I'd perched on as I stared into the darkness of his room. I'd acquired a new dagger after Sturmhond had taken mine, this one a beautiful glittering silver, bronze handle decorated and delicate.

The room was simple, a wardrobe propped up near the door, a small vanity with an even smaller chair. I took note of the teal coat draped over it. Finally, two bedside tables bracketed a large queen-sized bed. And on that bed, a pirate sprawled out on his back, soft snores filling the room. The only thing wrong with the Inn? The windows didn't lock.

I crept silently into the room, shutting the windows behind me. The only light being from the oil lamps outside on the street, the room otherwise dark. I stood by his bed, dagger raised, ready to deliver the killing blow.

And yet, I found myself hesitating.

I watched him, his oddly coloured red hair splayed across his forehead, messily. A callused hand rested on his chest, the other tucked beneath his pillow. His lips were parted, soft snores escaping, and his eyelids would flicker every so often, signalling his dreaming state. It would be so easy to kill him, just one perfectly placed plunge of my dagger... so why could I not do it?

A mumble came from him, his lips quirking into a slight smile as he dreamed. This pirate, who had killed and stolen for fun, looked so innocent in the light of the oil lamps outside. His brows creased in the centre, and I found myself wanting to smooth it out with my thumb.

I took in a deep breath, steadying my shoulders, the dagger raised above his heart. I faltered again. Why? Why could I not kill him?

My grip on my dagger was so tight, the hilt seemed to tremble, as I hesitated again and again. Did I doubt myself? Was that why I couldn't do it? Or did the guilt of killing so many finally rear its head at the final moment?

And then, he moved. My heart raced as he began to shift, groaning lowly in his throat. I stood utterly still as he stretched his arms above his head, sighing as he released the tension of his shoulders. His eyes flickered open, dark in the night's cover, yet I knew they were still that strange, murky green.

As though he sensed me, Sturmhond's eyes locked with mine and I froze. He said nothing as his eyes studied me, up and down, the room silent. Then, he grinned.

"I thought you promised to kill me." He spoke, his voice rough with sleep. He let out a cruel chuckle. "I suppose I'm a little disappointed you didn't even try. I picked this room especially for us."

My nostrils flared and I lunged at him, pressing my dagger against his neck as I pinned him to the bed, my knees framing his sides, crouched on top of him. My breathing was quick, rushed, as I scowled at him. I had killed countless people before him. I had succeeded at every single one of them.

And yet-

He laughed, this time a soft chuckle, eyes shining in the dull light as he stared up at me. He made no move to defend himself, to push me from his chest. Instead, he spoke, carelessly as though asking about the weather.

"Well, my dear... what are you waiting for?"

I pressed my blade harder against his neck, nostrils flaring as I watched a single drop of blood collect on the metal. Yet I could not kill him. No matter how much I fought with my mind, I could not do it. With an enraged yell, I threw the dagger across the room and rested my head on his chest, fisting his sleep shirt in my hands.

It was silent before he spoke again.

"Why?" His voice was soft.

"I don't know." I growled at him. I was hired to kill him and yet it was impossible for my hand to do as I said. He was insufferable and I hated him, but why could I not kill him?

He raised his head, slightly, causing my gaze to snap to him. His hand slid up and bunched the hair at my nape in his fingers.

"You've waited so long to kill me, dove," His lips brushed my throat as he spoke, voice almost silent. His seawater scent surrounded me. "And you failed, again."

I pushed myself away from him, stung by his words, the feeling of his lips still a phantom touch against my throat. His hand was still curled into my hair, loosening the band that held its braid. Strands fell down by my face, yet all I could see was his murky green eyes.

"Just join me." He whispered. As he spoke, his eyes grew heavy, the usual twinkle in his eyes darkening. "You know it's easier for you to just give in and join me."

"I refuse." I told him. "I'm here to kill you."

It was silent as he pondered my words, before the fox-like look returned to his eyes. He grinned, gripping my hair at the nape of my neck, giving him full control.

"Still so stubborn, even though she's on the losing side." He purred. I stiffened in his grasp, his breath hitting my face. I lost my words. "Just join my crew."

I shook my head as much as his grip allowed, eyes lidded.

"I'm an assassin, I don't belong to any crew."

He ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. "Then why haven't you killed me yet?" He said, darkly. "Tell me why."

I shook my head, hands pressed against his chest, face turned away from him. He was beneath me, yet I had the sinking feeling I wasn't the one in control. His voice was gravelly due to his slumber mere minutes ago, and he whispered into the silence of the room.

His other hand took my chin, gently, and turned my face back to his. "Tell me." He said, lowly, finger stroking my jaw. "Or I will give you a reason."

My eyes fluttered closed, but still, I said nothing.

His grip tightened on my jaw, and I let out a sharp whimper, eyelids flying open. I flushed as his eyes widened. The fox-like look was back on his face, grinning cruelly at me. He leaned upwards, slightly breathing on my face, and I felt my cheeks burn.

"Still no answer?" I breathed out at his question, eyes fluttering closed again. The silence of the room was deafening, and goosebumps appeared on my skin at the tone of his voice. "Should I give you a reason to stay?" His eyes were dark as he took me in.

"You're a pirate." I whispered. "I refuse to belong to a pirate."

He let out a sharp laugh, the sound rumbling underneath me, where I was still perched on his chest. "Privateer. But I'll teach you the difference." his finger stroked my jaw, up and down, gently. "I think it's a very good offer."

"Why would I possibly want to join you?" I snarled. "I've played the part of looking like some cheap piece of jewellery, hanging off someone's arm. I work alone."

"Not even for the money? The thrill of killing? You'd make a wonderful addition to my crew." He nosed up my neck, speaking slowly. "All it takes is one word."

"No."

He pulled his face back, biting his lip as he studied me. Whatever he found must have amused him because he chuckled again.

"You're a challenge, dove. Maybe that's why I enjoy your presence so much." His hands withdrew from my jaw and hair, and he brought them underneath his head, smiling lazily. "If you're so against joining my crew, leave. I won't stop you."

The window was to my left. I could slip out and not look back, leave him there, smug and alone. I made no move to leave.

He laughed again, his voice almost silken, enjoying the conflict within me. "So, what is your answer?" He purred.

My gaze flickered to his lips, the tongue that poked out to wet them, before I remembered myself and met his eyes, glaring fiercely.

"You were so vocal just now; don't tell me you've turned shy." He grinned. "Just tell me your answer. Stay with me, or leave. I think I know what it'll be." His gaze flickered down to my lips as he spoke, lowly.

"No," I trembled. My heart beat loudly in my ears, my breathing faster than its usual controlled speed.

"That's not an answer, dove." He told me, smiling. The window was there, I could step off him, and leave. But I felt frozen to my place on his chest. "Leave now, like you should do. Or stay."

Saints, he was making this hard. I knew I should leave. Leave before this progressed. But perhaps... just for one night I could entertain this. Just for the night.

"Stay?" My voice was quiet. I sat, frozen, on top of him, eyes lidded.

His smile widened as he watched me. "Yes." There was something final in his voice, almost sounding like the word 'forever'. He sat up, his face inches from mine. "Well?"

His voice was soft and cruel and sweet, something so very powerful in it that I felt myself nodding before I'd even heard what he said. A low chuckle filled my ears, turned my words numb on my tongue. My heart gave a sharp pang and fluttered dangerously.

"Are you mine?" He asked.

I'd agree. Just for tonight I'd agree. Indulge myself. And while he slept, I would leave. I formed the plan in my head, feeling my limbs lose all strength.

"Yes," I whispered.

His face lit up, a dangerous glint to his eyes. I could almost see fangs as he grinned viciously at me. He pulled me closer, flushed against his chest, his words a whisper and he brought his mouth to my ear, his eyes glittering like obsidian.

"Good girl..." I shivered, visibly. "Now say it. Say the words. Say 'I am yours.'"

I hesitated.

He tilted his head, dangerously. "Come on," He purred, mouth working into a cruel smile, hunger in his eyes. "Say the words, dove."

"I'm yours." I breathed out, panting slightly. The words felt so good on my tongue, as they formed in my mouth, as I uttered them to him. And I found myself uncaring for my safety.

He grinned, corners of his mouth curling up, eyes lighting up as I spoke. His eyes told me everything, every desire, every action, knowing he could do anything, and I would take what scraps I could.

His hand returned to the nape of my neck, fisting my hair as he shoved me forward, his lips claiming mine. It was not soft, it was not gentle or tender. It was hungry and it was wild and it was exactly what I'd wanted.

"You're mine." He growled against my lips, and there is something dangerous in those words.

I could not speak, could not reply to him, my mind a jumble as he kissed me, harshly.

Whatever calm composure he'd had left shattered completely as he laughed, a cruel sounding laugh, as he pulled back to observe me. I sat, panting in his lap, dazed. His other hand reached up to stroke my cheek, gently. I leaned into the touch.

"You belong to me." He hissed. I did not reply. His gaze softened. "I will treat you well." He promised. At my lack of attention, he brought my gaze to his with his hand on my jaw, tight enough to ground me. "You will not leave."

I nodded, even though I knew that by morning when he woke, I would be gone.

Something flashed in his eyes as he stared at me, nostrils flaring. I knew he didn't believe me as he leaned closer, kneeling on the bed this time, my own figure sliding off his lap, kneeling with him. The hand at my nape withdrew, but the one on my jaw tightened.

I felt like the rabbit again as the fox towered over me.

"Give me your word." He said, lowly. "Give me your word that you will not leave, or you will have to beg me to stop." It felt more of a promise than a threat.

I trembled. From where the two of us knelt on the large bed, my knees gave out and I sat down, Sturmhond looming over me. And he watched it happen, his eyes shining as he cupped my face, bringing his head closer to where I was sat.

"I like it when you tremble for me." His fingers continued to stroke my cheek. I leaned into his touch, eyes fluttering. He laughed at my movement, causing a flush to build on my cheeks. But I craved more, more than just a touch to my face, more than just his words. And he knew it. "You're mine, dove. Doesn't it feel better, to not lie to yourself anymore? To give in."

I found my hands moving by themselves, reaching up to tug at the ties of his sleep shirt. His eyes flickered in slight surprise, before they darkened once more. He let me have that, the first hint of freedom of the night. The smirk on his face told me all; he'd won, he did not care that I could pretend to have control in this moment, because he'd already won.

His shirt loosened and my hands faltered, dropping to my sides as I lost my nerve. His eyes flashed with amusement.

"Go on." He purred. "Do as you will. I am yours as much as you are mine."

With my heart beating, I grabbed the ends of his shirt and lifted it over his head. I'd seriously underestimated him the first time I'd seen him. As he knelt above me, I took in the sight of his bare torso. His arms were veined and sculpted, meeting broad shoulders. His chest was firm as he breathed evenly. I lowered my gaze downwards, trailing over his abs and to the line of his pelvis that disappeared under his pants. If I hadn't been sat down before, I would've slumped to my feet immediately at the sight of him. I found myself filled with want.

I shivered.

He grinned at my subtle movement, cruel and amused. "Just my shirt and I have you drooling," He purred. "But come now, don't be cruel. I do believe it’s your turn, hm?"

My fingers reached for the ties of my corset, pulling and loosening as his eyes watched me, head tilted. Deciding I'd taken too long, he batted my hands aside and almost ripped the corset from me, letting it fall at my waist. He started on my shirt next, unbuttoning each and every delicate clasp. He shoved the shirt off my shoulders and pulled the corset over my head, breathing in the sight of me. I flushed.

He leaned his neck down and captured my lips in his again, overpowering me easily. I breathed in a gasp against his lips, closing my eyes. His hands gripped my waist, thumbs rubbing circles before one of them trailed lower, fingers brushing my hips, knuckles caressing my stomach. It moved lower still, gentle, and delicate.

"It's a beautiful thing, you know?" He mumbled against my lips, his other hand pulling me up to kneel again, palm firm against my back. "To surrender, to belong, to give yourself over to someone who knows what you desire, someone who will keep you safe and happy."

His hand stopped, fingers curling under the waistline of my pants. "Now surrender to me, dove."

I breathed out, leaning into his touch. "More." I asked.

The cruel glint in his eyes was back, the hand at my back curling its fingers in a beckoning motion, chills breaking out along my skin. The hand I needed stayed in place.

"More?" He smirked. "You want more? You'll have to ask nicely, my dear. Tell me what you want, full sentences, say 'I want more.'"

His gaze turned feral.

"Say it."

"I want more." I whispered. "Please."

His grin was triumphant. He watched me as his hand moved, curling beneath my waistband, disappearing beneath the fabric.

"Good girl." He whispered. "So polite."

The hand continued, passed my hip, my lower stomach, beneath the edges of my underwear, his lips pulled into a cruel smirk, a look I didn't recognise flashing in his eyes. The hand moved slowly. Down.

I let out a sharp gasp.

My heartbeat sped up, my breathing hitched as he pulled his hand away, fingers resting on my lower stomach. "You like it, don't you? It feels good, doesn't it?" The hand at my back pulled me closer into him, my head tucked beneath his chin my arms wrapping around his shoulders, nearly holding myself up as my legs shook, slightly. "And yet I can take my hand away and there's nothing you could do about it, dove." To prove a point, his fingers wiggled against my lower stomach, so close to where I needed but still so far away.

I squeezed my eyes shut, mentally begging him to move his hand lower once more, the brief touch not nearly enough. "Please."

His breath was hot as he angled his head down, hitting the sides of my neck. His lips brushed the tip of my ear. "Please." He mocked, knowing no matter how much I'd begged, he still had the final word.

But, he'd been cruel enough, so he dragged his fingers down again, beneath the line of my underwear and cold fingers touched where I'd needed most. My breath caught at the touch, stiffening in his hold before relaxing against his chest, slumping over. I released a breath.

One finger circled the apex of my thighs, cold but nimble. The rest spread me, slightly, letting him move easier. I jolted against him, fists curling, arms tightening around his shoulders.

"Saints." I whimpered.

"Saints?" His voice mocked me. He halted his finger in place, ignoring my slight sound of confusion. "No saint will help you now. I am your saint. I am your everything. There is no escape."

With a sharp thrust, his middle finger entered me. I cried out, startled. My knees trembled where I knelt, my arms around his shoulders and Sturmhond's hand on my back the only things that kept me upright. He thrusted a couple times, dragging out to swipe his finger over my entirety, before he plunged back in. A second finger joined, thumb circling my apex. I breathed faster, choked gasps leaving me as he fingers curled. His hand left my back, cupping my face and bringing my lips to his, my neck bent backwards to reach his height. His kiss took over, my sounds interrupting my attempts at trying to kiss back.

My knees wobbled, my thighs tensed, and I felt the tell-tale sign of my incoming release. I rolled my hips against his palm, breathing through my mouth, as his lips left mine to trail my throat. My stomach fluttered at one particularly angled thrust, and I was pushed over the edge, squeezing around his fingers, arms tight around his neck as my body jumped and trembled. As I came down, Sturmhond aimed a few more cruel, but well aimed, thrusts into me before withdrawing his hand entirely from my pants, resting against my bare stomach. My knees finally gave up as I crashed down onto the bed again, shivering.

The room was silent.

"Good girl," He mumbled into my hair, hand stroking my jaw. I blinked, before I shuffled closer to him, hands fumbling with his belt. He stayed silent as he watched me, his belt loosening before I worked on the drawstrings of his pants. I unlaced them, messily, know that he could stop me at any moment, take control of the situation, leaving me to tremble in want.

"So frantic, dove." Sturmhond belittled. I tugged his pants down before he stopped me, grabbing my hands, smirking. "Must I remind you who's in control here?"

I choked on a gasp as he pressed his lips to mine, hard. I teetered backwards, and found myself laying on my back, at his mercy. He didn't break the kiss, moving to rest above me, hands either side of my head. He withdrew, slightly, smirking.

"Well, my dear." He nipped my bottom lip. "Are you satisfied?"

I tried, one final time to regain some semblance of myself. "You could do better."

His eyes lit up at the challenge. A laugh rumbled in his chest. "Oh, you think so?" One hand moved to grip my hip. "Perhaps another demonstration is in order." In a flash, he'd gripped both my wrists and pinned them, with one hand, above my head.

He leaned down, nose to nose.

"Show me what you want."

"Please." My voice encouraged his grip to tighten around my wrists, the one at my hip squeezing in sync.

"Please? Is that all you have to say for yourself, tonight?" He laughed again. Not kindly. The laugh of someone who knew their power over another. "What did I say? You're all so predictable, you assassins. Now, try again. Full sentences."

I let out a soft moan at his words, clenching my eyes shut, embarrassed.

His eyes gleamed. "Just from my words?" He smirked. "Do you like it when I speak to you like that?"

I lifted my hips, slightly, before I remembered who was above me, lowering them again. I turned my face away from him in a final act of defiance.

"You were so good for me earlier." He shook his head at me, feigning disappointment. Though I knew it was an act, I felt a pang in my chest. "Say it. Say what you want."

"Please, please."

He shook his head again. "Must I do everything? Are you too dumb to speak, dove?" He taunted. His eyes were hungry, his teeth gleaming like fangs. I needed more. I needed him. "What do you want, dove? What do you need?"

"You!" I finally caved.

The sound was sudden in the silence of the room. Sturmhond's eyes widened and glittered as he heard my words. I recognised the look, now. He needed me as much as I needed him.

"Well, my dear." He cooed. "It seems you've given yourself to me, have you not?" His voice was cruel again, but there was an edge to it.

"Yes. Yes, just please-" My eyes burned. His gaze darkened at the break in my voice. He leaned in again, lips a breath away from my own.

"Have me." I begged him. Though, as he heard my words, his hand released my wrists. I panicked as he started to move away from me, leaving a chill so deep, it seemed to seep into my bones. I cried out, softly, as he moved away from me.

He shushed me, hand caressing my cheek, thumb smoothing over my cheekbone. "I'm here, dove."

He began to work on my pants, unbuckling my belt, undoing the tiny buttons that clasped the front of my pants together. He tugged them free from my legs, working on his own, leaving us in just our underwear.

"How desperate are you, dove?" His growled, one hand caressing my hip, the other placed beside my head, propping himself up. "How badly do you want me to 'have you?'"

"Yes, yes, please." My eyes fluttered.

"Do you want to give yourself to me? Is this what you want?" Sturmhond's dark gaze gave way to a softer look, one I did not recognise. "Do you want me, dove? This is the last time I'm going to ask."

"I want you." I confessed.

He nearly shuddered, but he forced his composure to remain steady. "Good girl." I was the one to shudder. "Get on all fours."

I shivered at the command, hesitating. Seeing his expectant gaze, I flipped myself over onto my stomach, hands and knees pushing myself up on the bed. Sturmhond knelt behind me. I tensed as his hands slid under my hips, rubbing small circling, gripping almost bruisingly.

"Beg for me. You owe me that much." He commanded.

"Please. Please, Sturmhond." I begged. I was his puppet, made to dance for his amusement.

I felt him tense behind me. "Good girl." He whispered, stroking my hips as he leaned forward, breath hitting my back. I arched my spine as his lips kissed the small of my back. He watched as I shivered before him. I lifted my hips slightly, wiggling the smallest amount, embarrassed to verbalise what I wanted. What I needed.

I couldn't see his reaction to my movement, but it must have been well received as I heard a low rumble of his chest, his fingers reaching out to finger the waistband of my underwear.

"Do you want more?" His voice was soft, losing the cruel tone he'd had for most of the night.

I nodded, eager. He pressed my hips backwards, resting my ass against his front. I tensed at the hardness I found.

"So eager." He complimented. "So perfect."

I sighed, deeply, unable to find my words. I let him take control, willing to do whatever he asked of me. He rolled his hips, slowly.

"You want me to take you, dove? Do you feel safe enough to let me do that?" Despite his heavy panting, he still hesitated as he held the waistband on my underwear.

"Yes." I whispered.

I heard him take a sharp intake of breath before I felt his body shift. For a moment, I was worried he might pull away, but the squeeze of his large hands at my hips soothed my fluttering heart.

"Then let me take you." He growled, eased my underwear down to my bent knees. He spread me again, with his fingers, massaging the nerves between my thighs. I shuddered, biting back a groan. He withdrew, causing a cry to erupt from my throat. "Want to see you." He told me.

With gentle hands, the gentlest he'd been tonight, he flipped me onto my back, kneeling before me, resting his ass on his heels, underwear still on. His eyelids were heavy, pupils dilated. He studied me, not moving. I whimpered, impatient.

I moved my hand downwards, seeing as he made no move to touch me. I watched as his gaze flickered to my hand, lip curling. He snatched my hand up, face dark. I felt my eyes water in frustration.

"Please, I'll be good, just touch me." I pleaded. He smirked.

"Of course you'll be good." He taunted.

Within seconds, he'd entered me with two fingers, collecting the wetness that had dripped from me. As he coaxed more from me, his other hand pushed his underwear down, his length springing up, flushed. I stared. With his hand covered in my wetness, he slid his length into his grip, groaning as he covered himself. One, two, three pumps and he took his hand away, the left-over wetness cooling against my skin as he gripped my hips in both hands. Lining up with my entrance, he eased in, slowly.

I sucked in a breath, closing my eyes. I faintly heard his groan above me as he rested, still, only the first inch inside. After a moment, he pressed further.

"Fuck!" I cried out, hands gripping the sheets, not knowing where else to go. His grip on my hips turned bruising. His hips met mine in a soft kiss, bone bumping against bone. I panted and whined as he stayed in place, hearing his own heaving breaths.

As he dragged himself out, slowly, I felt myself clench subconsciously. Sturmhond stumbled forward, arm catching himself by my head, holding himself above me. I grabbed him, looped my arms around his neck and brought his lips to mine. He groaned into my lips as he began to set a steady pace, my hips rolling in time with his.

Sharp, angled thrusts replaced the long, slow drags of his hips against mine and I felt my eyes flutter shut in pleasure. The hand not holding himself up explored my body, starting at my neck, down to my chest, circling at my hips before it edged down and pinched my mound of nerves. I threw my head back, breaking his overpowering kiss, echoing a moan throughout the room.

"Saints." Sturmhond spat, feeling me clench around him. In the light from outside, his muddy green eyes seemed to darken to an almost hazel colour, and the broken crooked part of his nose seemed softer. I knew I couldn't trust myself to gaze at him in this state, but his face seemed different somehow.

At a particularly powerful thrust, Sturmhond angled his hips in just the right place, leaving me shouting into the quiet of the room. He repeated his movement, thumb circling in time with his thrusts and I felt as my breathing grew heavier, my heart pounding in my ears, stomach fluttering and tensing.

a bite to the side of my neck had me screeching, hips bucking as pleasure rolled from in between my legs, to below my naval and straight back down again, like a lightning strike. I felt my eyes roll, heaving moans following as I rode the wave of my high. Distantly, Sturmhond continued to thrust, until he too, groaned and leaped over the edge, his hips gradually stilling against mine, rolling softly as the last stars of pleasure left my eyes.

I shuddered as he pulled out, feeling the trickle of fluid slide down to my ass, collecting beneath me on the bed. I rested a hand against my lower stomach, still dazed. I felt the bed dip to my left, Sturmhond crashing down next to me, on his back.

We breathed in silence, in sync, panting as our minds caught up to the present. I felt him move, sliding off the bed with dragging footsteps as he wandered around the room. I heard a door open, realising he'd had an en suite bathroom. Maybe being a privateer did pay well, after all.

The sound of a tap running was all I could hear. Distantly, I felt sorry for the Innkeeper, knowing we'd made a slight mess... perhaps been a bit too loud.

Sturmhond's heavy footsteps trudged back to me before I felt the bed dip at my feet. With warm, large hands, he gripped the backs of my knees and separated my legs. I sucked in a large breath.

"Just cleanin' you up." Sturmhond slurred, sounding almost drunk.

I felt another trickle and heard his breath hitch. A soft touch of a wet towel pressed itself again me. My toes curled and my thighs tensed, but he persisted. Every rough scrape of the towel had me twitching, toes flexing. Fuck, I could barely think straight.

A puff of breath between my thighs had my stomach jumping. I glanced down to see Sturmhond's heavily lidded eyes focused on my swollen flesh.

"You're stunning, dove." He mumbled. The towel was discarded by his side as he crept closer, hands resting on my inner thighs, making sure I couldn't close them as he took in the view.

My head flew back as his tongue struck out, licking from the bottom to the top, circling at my apex.

"You were so good for me." He growled, the sound vibrating against me, travelling up my spine. I arched, sensitive.

"Oh, Saints, please." I didn't know what I was begging for, but the words flew from my lips all the same. Another rumble vibrated against me as he chuckled. "Fuck!"

"Not quite yet, my dear. I need some time to recover." He teased. I opened my mouth to swear at him when he enclosed him lips around my nub and hummed. I spasmed, pushed almost to the edge, losing my words. "What was that, dove?"

My eyes rolled as he released me, words forming, then failing on my tongue.

Sturmhond's own tongue burrowed deep into me, curling inside before withdrawing and flattening against my entirety. I shuddered.

I lost track of time as he flicked and sucked and plunged his tongue into me, my eyes clenching, the space between my thighs doing the same. His name was lost on my lips, pleads half forming before the next stroke scattered my words again.

Two fingers joined at some point, curling upwards in a beckoning motion, his tongue twirling over my nub. Every so often he would clamp his lips shut, suck and then hum, causing my toes to curl and my legs to shake.

He timed the finale, adding a third finger, thrusting in quickly and curling up, just as his teeth scraped my nub.

I shouted, screamed as my hips lifted off the bed, not knowing if I was chasing his touch or trying to escape it. I felt my legs shake as they held me up, my stomach clenching, fluttering and jumping as pleasure raced down my spine. He continued the assault until I flopped, boneless, onto the bed, struggling to breathe as the pleasure faded and I went numb.

When I came back to myself, I first registered the hands stroking my thighs. Sturmhond sat at my feet, large hands clasping my thighs, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into my skin. He had a strangely fond look on his face as he stared at me, watching as I blinked the leftover tears away from my eyes.

I yelped as the towel pressed itself to me again.

"It's okay." He shushed me. "I'm only cleaning you up, nothing else this time."

He cleaned me up, quickly, my thighs now dry, though my skin still flaming and sensitive. He returned the damp towel to the bathroom and scooped me up, resting my head against the pillows, as I'd previously been laying with my head at the foot of the bed. He placed a fresh towel over the mess we'd made and slid in behind me into the bed, pulling the covers over us.

"Couldn't resist." He mumbled into my hair; arm slung around my waist. "Tasted so good. Sounded so pretty."

I was too exhausted to even flush at his remarks.

"Did so good for me." His hand rubbed soothing circles into my stomach. "Took it so well."

And I couldn't speak. The dynamic we'd built had broken, leaving something softer. No more tension between us, something raw left in its wake.

It kept me awake until the morning, when the sun shone through the window, illuminating his face.

The face that didn't belong to Sturmhond.

I'd stayed away for two months.

Away from the man I'd been hired to kill, away from the man that had left me dazed on the bed of an Inn. Away from the man who wasn't what he'd seemed.

I'd found myself in West Ravka. I'd searched for his ship, The Volkvolny, for the last month, finally tracing it to Os Kervo. I'd stayed in the shadows, not knowing whether to approach or not.

He was dressed in his usual teal coat, haggling with some stall owner. His hair was its usual shade of off-red, cheeks flushed in the sunlight. It seemed he was succeeding in his haggling, the stall owner waving a hand in defeat, nodding at the privateer. He handed them a few folded notes, picking up whatever he'd bought from them and sliding it into his pocket. He turned to observe another stall when his murky green eyes met mine. His face lit up; eyes gleaming as I froze from my spot in the nearest alleyway.

Dodging the heaving crowd, Sturmhond made his way over to where I stood, my heart pounding. I wanted to run, but he'd made my decision for me, entering the alleyway with a grin.

"Hello, dove." He greeted, leaning against the brick wall.

I lost the words I'd been practicing for a week.

"It's so good to finally see you, my dear." His eyes flashed with something cold, yet he seemed to reign in it. "Tell me, did you enjoy your time away from me?"

I swallowed, thickly.

"You can't have enjoyed it that much if you're here, before me, now." His eyes glowed. "To come back so soon after you promised you wouldn't leave. Was it guilt that brought you back? Or just greed."

He took a step closer towards me, my own feet stepping back. His controlled demeanour changed, nostrils flaring.

"Tell me, dove."

"I don't know." I told him, unable to confess the true reason.

He tilted his head. "You don't know?" His voice was steady, but there was a hint of rage threatening to rear its head from his clutches. "Are you sure you're telling the truth, my dear. Or do you just want me, greedy little thing."

"I've had you already." I hissed, venomously. "I'm just deciding if it was good enough."

A lie. Sturmhond had done things to me those two months ago that my hands couldn't even begin to replicate, no matter how I'd tried. What had really shaken me, though, was the emptiness I felt at night.

He blinked before smirking at me, taunting in the way I was familiar with. Good, let him hate me, the rawness of his voice as he held me that night had been too much to handle.

"You know good and well that it was more than good enough." He growled. "I distinctly remember your legs shaking so hard, I thought you'd foam at the mouth."

I snarled at leapt at him, pressing him against the wall of the alleyway and holding my dagger to his throat. Just like the two previous times. Always the same thing, never able to make the kill.

I saw the flash of hurt in his eyes. Only lasting a second, but it shook me all the same. He grinned at me, an unbothered façade on his face.

"And here we are again." He baited. "You can try and kill me, dove, but we both know you'll never be strong enough."

My heart clenched.

He leaned in, voice dark and cruel and thick with an emotion I refused to recognise. "You're so weak for someone so determined. I almost feel pity for you." His teeth shone like fangs. "So why can't you finish this? Third time's the charm, dove. Do it, kill me."

"I have tried!" I snapped. My dagger felt weak in my hand. "Three times I have tried to kill you and I cannot do it. I know you don't truly care for me but, Saints, I can't help the way my heart beats for you."

It was silent. Sturmhond's hand reached up and clasped my hand, uncurling my grasp from my dagger. I heard the clang as it hit the ground.

"Oh, dove." He whispered. I turned my face away, but he brought it back with his fingers on my jaw. I leaned into the touch. "And who told you I do not care for you?" His voice was soft, gentle, my heart fluttering at his words.

"Because you cannot." I told him. I dug into my pocket and shoved a crumpled letter into his chest. "Your nature is to lie. And I refuse to be used by you for your benefit, just to be left alone. I will not be broken by you."

"What are you talking about?" Sturmhond took the letter from me. "I would never do that to you. I would never pretend to love you, just to leave you later."

I turned away from him, leaning against the alleyway wall opposite him, sliding down it until I rested against the ground. I buried my head in my knees.

He refused to even glance at the letter, kneeling down before me, reaching an arm out, touching my arm, gently.

"Please, dove. Believe me on this." He leaned in closer, his hand wrapping around my own. "Please, please, my dear."

I felt my eyes tear up, betraying the stern look I'd tried to keep on my face.

His hands cupped my face, forcing me to face him. I stared into the false-green. "I would never-" His voice was desperate.

"I don't know what to do." I confessed. "I can't kill you; I can't lose you and yet, I cannot allow myself to be hurt by you."

"I wouldn't..." Sturmhond furrowed his brows before he remembered the letter by his side. "I wouldn't hurt you. My heart yearns for you."

A wave of emotions rushed through me. He sounded so honest, yet I feared for my heart.

"Don't lie to me." I whispered.

He looked at me, startled. "I'm not. Dove, what makes you think-"

"Because you are lying to me right now, Nikolai!" I snapped. His eyes widened at my words, frozen on the spot. I growled and stood up. "The men that hired me to kill you. They wrote to me, a week after I'd left you, upping the bounty. You're Prince Nikolai, aren't you. Sturmhond is just your persona."

The alleyway was silent.

"You're angry at me for not telling you who I really was." Sturm- Nikolai growled, standing up, towering over me. "For not telling an assassin my true identity? Like it would have made a difference! You stand there and call me a liar, when you never even told me your name."

I faltered before my nostrils flared. "That is different!" My chest heaved. "I wasn't lying about who I was!"

"And if I had told you? Would it have made a difference to your plans to kill me? Or would it have just motivated you more?" He glowered at me.

"It would if you hadn't fucked me before I found out!" I cried. He snapped his mouth closed. "Do you know how used I felt? Turning over to see the face of someone completely different to the man who'd made me feel so special the night previous. I felt lied to, used. And no, I wouldn't have killed you if I'd have known you were a prince. I hunt pirates, Nikolai. Not good men."

Nikolai breathed heavily as he listened to my words, eyes unreadable.

"I knew of Prince Nikolai's reputation. I would never have dared to kill him after all he's done for his country." I said, energy leaving me. "I'd planned to kill Sturmhond because he was a threat to my country and the people I protect. And yes, it paid well. But I wasn't going to kill you after that night."

He stared at the dagger on the ground.

"Then what was that about?" He asked me. "Pinning me against the wall, dagger at my throat?"

"That is what happens when a woman is scorned. By a prick of a pirate and a coward of a prince." I seethed.

"Privateer." He corrected, softly.

I scoffed yet found no energy to fight him.

"You expect my love when you've shown me no reason to let you have it." I told him.

"I expect nothing from you, dove." Nikolai whispered. His eyes met mine, the muddy green still covering the colour I now knew they truly were. The ones I'd seen in the lamplight from outside. Hazel. "I'd like nothing more than for you to love me. But I don't expect- won't demand that from you. I only ask you to be honest with me."

"My heart tells me to want you. But my mind tells me to run from you." I confessed. "What do I listen to?"

"I can't answer that for you, dove." Nikolai admitted.

It was silent for a moment. "Y/n." I told him. "That's my name."

Nikolai breathed out, nodding his head. He repeated my name, like he was testing how it felt on his tongue.

"No more secrets." Nikolai promised. He stepped closer to me, hand cupping my cheek. "Just Nikolai and y/n. I yearn for you. And I want to give us a chance, dove."

I leaned into his palm.

"So please, don't leave." He whispered. "I swear to you with everything I have that I will prove myself to be loved by you. I am in love with you."

"No more lies." I whispered as he stepped closer to me.

He shook his head. "I swear to you."

He brought me in closer, lips brushing mine. So tender, so gentle. I thought of how feverishly he'd kissed me on that night two months ago. I sighed into his lips, leaning forward, and pressing my lips harder against his. His fingers brushed my cheek.

The Volkvolny was known by most: pirates, merchants, kings. Its captain was infamous, ruthless. His hair an uncanny shade of red, eyes a murky green, nose crooked, like it had been broken too many times and set wrong.

His quartermaster was as equally infamous. She killed for him, hunted for him. They were matched in combat, but she usually did the dirty work. Sturmhond was happy to indulge his Zeeduif.

Behind closed doors, a man with golden hair stood over his lover, hazel eyes filled with adoration, nose only slightly crooked. She met his gaze, equally as fierce, thankful for their soundproof walls.

The prince of Ravka would eventually return to The Grand Palace to visit his parents, and brother, where he would introduce his wife; the, now, princess y/n of Ravka.

As she lay in his arms at night, she would think back on their first meeting. Then flush as their second meeting sprang to her mind. And though there were things she wished she could change about their third meeting, being there in Nikolai's arms was reward enough.

Oh, and she absolutely wouldn't let him take control all of the time.

#nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lanstov x y/n #nikolai lantsov smut #shadow and bone #grishaverse #this entire thing deleted itself for me #no I do not know how to use tumblr #send help

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proxima-writes · 1 year

Text

change your mind

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI)

Word Count: 6,575

Read on AO3

Summary:

Five times Eddie Munson asks you to marry him, and the one time you say yes.

Author’s Note: This is meant to be read after “nothing else matters”, but can be read as a stand alone.

Additional tags: rockstar Eddie Munson, high school sweethearts, marriage proposal, loss of virginity, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, dirty talk, pet names, semi-public sex, idiots in love

— 1 —

It’s the summer of 1984 when you first really meet Eddie Munson.

Sure, you’ve seen him around school. You’ve heard his cafeteria monologues. You’ve even seen him and his band perform at the talent show. But he’s always been just beyond your orbit. The crowd you hang out with the most in school, while not the most popular kids by any means, didn’t typically leave much opportunity for getting to know the leather wearing metal head.

You’re in your backyard, reading a book under the porch light. After a long, hot day at the pool working as a lifeguard, the mild chill of the summer evening is a welcome reprieve. When you look out over the yard, dots of light come and go as fireflies flit about the grass.

It’s perfect.

That is, until you hear a scrambling noise near your fence line, followed by a loud thump and a pained groan. Startled, you jump from your seat and tug open the screen door to the house, reaching in and grabbing the shotgun your dad keeps there.

Gun held in both hands, just like your dad taught you, you tiptoe out into the yard to investigate.

You spot the source of the noise quickly. A lump in the grass, barely illuminated by the light of the moon and your distant porch lights. The lump shifts, rolling over and you catch a glimpse of curly brown hair and pale skin.

When he finally opens his eyes and notices you standing there, gun aimed at him, he scrambles to his knees and holds his hands up, brown eyes wide in panic as he says, “Hey, hey, hey, let’s put the gun down, yeah?”

You roll your eyes, flicking the safety back on and setting it down. “Care to explain why you’re in my yard, then? You gave me a heart attack, Eddie!”

“Hopper caught me spray painting the old mill down the road. Had to lose him somehow.” He stands, brushing the grass off of his black jeans. He eyes you curiously. “You know my name?”

“We go to school together. Of course I know your name.”

“Ah, my infamy precedes me.”

“It’s not infamy, it's your loud mouth in the cafeteria yelling about how ABBA is an affront to music.” You cross your arms over your chest. “Dancing Queen is a good song.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, princess, did I personally offend you?” He asks, voice teasing. “Bet if you listened to the lyrical mastermind that is Ozzy, you would forget all about ABBA.”

“I think Paranoid was better than Master of Reality, ” you reply.

“Marry me,” he says, making you laugh. His eyes crinkle in the corners as he smiles at you, and not for the first time, you think, Huh, Eddie Munson is kinda cute.

“Not a chance, Munson.”

— 2 —

In the fall of 1984, you began your junior year. It had started out just the same as any other year - new classes, same faces. But one face in the crowd caught your eye more regularly.

And you caught his right back.

Sometimes, when you were spacing out during lunch listening to your friends talk about their weekend plans, your eyes would seek out that head of messy curls. And sometimes, you would find that he was already staring back at you.

And that distraction is what leads to him standing from his table without looking and slamming straight into Jason Carver, his lunch tray spilling the Wednesday Spaghetti special all over his precious letterman jacket.

“Watch where you’re going, freak,” Jason shouts, shoving Eddie by the shoulders.

Eddie, being the little shit that he is, just smiles. “Oh, my sincerest apologies, King Jason,” he replies with a sarcastic little bow. “Baking soda should take care of those stains.”

You can practically see the steam coming out of Jason’s ears. Eddie turns to leave, eyes finding yours again, but Jason reaches out and grabs his shoulder, turning him back to face him and throwing a fist right into his jaw.

You’re out of your seat before you can even think about it. Kids crowd around the two boys, chanting their encouragement to fight. Eddie stands back up, ducking another punch from Jason.

You shove your way through the crowd, planting yourself in front of Eddie just as Jason throws another swing that narrowly misses you. “Cut it out,” you shout above the noise.

“Move,” Jason demands, an angry gaze still fixed on Eddie. “What, you need a girl to defend you, Munson?”

And that comment pisses you off. Your dad didn’t spend hours every weekend when you were a young girl teaching you how to throw a punch for no reason. Your arm winds back, fingers curled tight in a fist that you let fly right into his nose. He stumbles back, hands flying to his face and coming away covered in blood.

“Holy shit,” Eddie says behind you. “That was awesome.”

Principal Higgins charges through the crowd. He takes in Jason’s bloody face, and turns to you and Eddie. “Detention. This afternoon.”

You open your mouth to protest, but he cuts you off with a hand and a sigh of your name. “I will deal with you two later. Mr. Carver needs to see the nurse.” With that, he leads the school golden boy out of the cafeteria by the arm.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Eddie says. You turn to face him as the students disperse back to their seats. You can feel their uncertain glances bouncing off your back.

“Yeah, well. Jason’s a dick,” you mutter. You don’t give him a chance to reply, heading back to your table to grab your backpack and head to class before the bell rings.

___

After an hour of staring at a chalkboard in silence, Mr. Clark, the hefty P.E. teacher with the shiny bald spot, finally dismisses you and Eddie from the classroom.

You’re out of your seat like a rocket and halfway down the hall before you hear Eddie’s voice call out behind you.

When you turn to face him, he’s grinning ear to ear. You can’t imagine why - you’d just spent an hour being tortured by silence. He holds a hand out, and you look down at the twisted piece of straw wrapper pinched between his fingers in confusion.

“Marry me?” Eddie asks, reminding you of the night that he’d fallen into your backyard and asked the same question.

With a laugh, you take the ring and slip it onto your ring finger. “Not a chance, Munson,” you say with a wink, turning on your heel to leave.

“I’ll change your mind!” He calls out after you.

— 3 —

It’s February in 1985 when Eddie Munson first asks you out.

He’s been leaving you notes in your locker every week for the last few months. Sometimes it's an actual note, his messy handwriting detailing some crazy story he’d come up with for his Dungeons and Dragons club, or asking you a series of questions that you’d reply to with a note of your own, slipped into his locker in between classes.

Other times, it's a drawing. While his handwriting leaves a lot to be desired, his artistry is impressive. One such drawing was a vase of sunflowers, which you had off-handedly mentioned as your favorite. You’d stuck that one to your locker door with a matching magnet the same day.

One day, however, you approach your locker at the end of the day to find a crumpled brown paper bag stuck to the metal door with duct tape. Opening it, you find a cassette tape in a plastic cover, the track list scribbled in familiar handwriting.

It takes you all of three seconds to realize most of the songs are off of Black Sabbath’s Paranoid album, which makes you smile like a fool.

Later, in the privacy of your room, you play the songs on a low enough volume to not wake your dad, sitting near your speaker to catch the lyrics. It’s a little after 11 p.m. when you hear a tap at your window.

You push the curtain aside and jump slightly in surprise when Eddie’s grinning face stares back from the other side of the glass. You lift the window open to whisper, “What are you doing here?”

“Come on, I got something to show you,” he says, his whole body moving with barely contained excitement. “But we gotta go, like, now.”

“Eddie, it’s almost midnight,” you say by way of protest.

“Exactly, come on, we don’t have a lot of time.” He leans through your open window, looking you head to toe. “Put on a sweater and get your shoes on.”

Confused, but intrigued, you do as he says. He helps you through the window before you slowly close it, careful not to make too much noise. You follow him to his van that he’s parked a little ways down from your house.

“Where are we going?” You ask, stepping quickly to keep up with his longer strides. He opens the passenger door for you, shutting it as you sit in the seat without responding. His van smells like weed and cigarette smoke, but not overwhelmingly. It’s almost comforting.

He turns the van on, pulling away from the curb and heading north, towards the dense woods surrounding Hawkins. He’s got the radio turned low, a Metallica sound filling the silence around you. His fingers tap to the beat on the steering wheel, but he doesn’t say anything.

You drive like that for a while, heading further out from Hawkins to where the town gives way to dense forest and the inky black sky lights up with more stars than you get to see back at home. Eddie pulls off to the side of the road, near a field that borders the roadway before it disappears into towering pine.

He hops out of the van and runs around the hood to open your door, holding a hand out to you. It’s so dark you can barely see anything as you drop down from the passenger seat, clinging to his hand. He brings you to the back and opens the van doors, revealing a pile of blankets that you hadn’t noticed during the drive.

He turns to you, a hand running through his hair as he says, “There’s a meteor shower tonight. It starts in-,” he checks his watch, “-thirty minutes. I thought, maybe, we could…watch it. I got us some Red Vines, too.”

You blink rapidly, your brain trying to catch up. “A meteor shower?”

“Yeah. Heard about it on the radio. This should be a pretty clear place to watch it,” he says. “You said your favorite book is The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy because you like the idea of traveling through space. I don’t have a starship, so the meteor shower is the compromise.”

“I can’t believe you remember I said that,” you tell him. You’d mentioned it off-handedly in one of your replies to his notes.

“I remember everything you tell me,” he replies easily, shrugging like it's no big deal.

“This is….so sweet, Eddie,” you tell him honestly. He lets out a breath, like he’d been nervous about how you would respond. You can’t imagine why.

Doesn’t he know you’ve been halfway in love with him since pointing a shotgun at him for interrupting your reading?

He grins, bright and happy before hopping up into the pile of blankets and situating himself. He pulls out the aforementioned bag of Red Vines and pats the space beside him. You clamber up into the spot, sitting cross legged with your knee touching his and sending sparks across your skin at the contact.

He holds a bright red rope out to you and you take it happily, munching on it as you stare up at the sky. A streak of lights moves in your periphery and you jump in excitement. “I think I saw one!”

Your eyes are glued to the sky as the intermittent streaks of meteors slash through the darkness, but Eddie watches you instead.

He pulls another Red Vine from the pack, tying it in a knot with a small loop at the end.

“Marry me?” He asks, holding the makeshift ring out to you.

“Not a chance, Munson,” you reply, making him laugh. You bite the candy from his fingers with a grin.

“I’ll change your mind,” he promises for the second time.

— 4 —

It’s the summer of 1986. You’ve graduated high school and Eddie finally has as well, by the skin of his teeth and maybe with a little help from you on his homework.

College wasn’t really in your cards financially, so you’re working at The Hideout as a bartender on the weekends and at a record store throughout the week. Eddie, on the other hand, has been focusing on making music for Corroded Coffin between shifts at the factory where his Uncle Wayne also works. You still live with your dad, but you don’t mind it. He gives you enough privacy and is often away on construction jobs around the state for long periods of time.

On one such occasion, blessed with an empty house, you ask Eddie to come stay with you.

You’ve been dating since he took you to watch the meteor shower. It’s your first relationship, your first boyfriend, your first everything, really. Eddie is sweet, attentive, caring, and hasn’t once pressured you into anything you’re not yet ready for.

But tonight, you’re ready. You are so, so ready.

The pizza has already been delivered. You’ve rented Back to the Future for the third time, which means neither of you would be missing out if you happened to be busy with…other activities. You’ve got a box of condoms stashed in the couch cushions, just in case.

There’s a knock at your door and you swipe your sweaty palms on the fabric of your dress, the cute red sundress that’s been known to make Eddie’s brain short circuit.

You pull the door open to Eddie’s smiling face. “Sorry I’m late, sweetheart. I got that wine you like. Don’t know how it’s going to pair with pizza.” He leans forward to kiss you, a soft peck to your lips in greeting that already lights up your nerves.

“Thanks,” you say, taking the bottle from him. You move aside to let him in, shutting the door behind you. He turns, slipping an arm around your waist and tugging you until you're pressed tightly to him.

“This dress,” he murmurs, running his nose along your neck, nipping at the juncture of your shoulder. “This dress drives me crazy.”

You hold back the whimper of need lodged in your throat as he peppers you with little kisses, fingers curling against your ribs. He pulls away before it gets too far, just as he always does, and you mourn the loss.

You follow him to the kitchen and set the wine next to the pizza box. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“Your dad got any beer?” He asks, taking a seat at the table and flipping the box open. “Oh, pineapple!”

You grab a beer from the fridge for him and a glass for the wine. As you’re walking past, Eddie grabs your hand and gives it a little tug, guiding you until you’re sitting on his lap.

“You okay?” He asks, one hand on your back and the other just above your knee, his calloused fingers lightly gripping the bare skin of your thigh.

“Huh?”

“I asked if you’re okay. You’re acting a little funny.” His brow furrows in concern as he searches your face. “Do you not want me to stay over anymore?”

“No! I mean, yes! Yes, I want you to stay.” You take a breath. “Do you want to eat the pizza in the living room? We can start the movie.”

He regards you for a moment longer before shrugging and saying, “Sure. Lead the way.”

He grabs the pizza box while you get plates. In the living room, you press play on the VCR before taking a seat beside Eddie, leaving a few inches between your bodies out of nervousness, hoping he doesn’t notice.

But he does.

He frowns at the space before glancing at you, while you resolutely stare into the pizza box like it holds all the answers in the universe.

Look, the fact of the matter is, Eddie is more experienced than you and the knowledge of that leaves you torn. On one hand, you’re glad to (hopefully) be going into this with someone who knows what he’s doing so that you’re not just fumbling in the dark.

On the other hand, you’re scared to death he’s going to think you’re some boring virgin. You don’t think he would. It would be wildly out of character for him to be cruel like that. But there’s still a tiny part of your stupid brain telling you otherwise.

And you know he’s into some heavy stuff. You’ve snooped through his room before, found the copies of Heavy Metal magazine that featured women bound, gagged, blindfolded. Bent over with red hand prints blooming on their asses. Knelt on the ground in front of some faceless man, doe eyed expressions tilted up in submission. Seeing all of it had made you squirm, skin going hot at the thought of Eddie doing any number of those things to you.

Until you remembered that you’ve never even had sex yet and can’t possibly live up to that sort of expectation. You stare blankly at the TV as you have your internal struggle, the images of Doc and Matt McFly on their wacky adventure not even registering as you bite into your pizza.

“Alright,” Eddie says, snatching the pizza out of your hands and tossing it back into the box sitting on the coffee table.

“Hey!” You protest, gaping at him. He lifts you by the waist until you’re in his lap for the second time that night, legs spread on either side of him. It’s not an unfamiliar position - you’ve had plenty of heated make out sessions sitting just like this. The edges of his belt buckle press into your belly as he grips your hips.

“Come on, spill it. What’s the matter?” He asks, face serious as his brown eyes search yours. His fingers inch up, digging into your ribs, making you giggle and squirm over him. “What’s got you so tense, baby?”

Rather than answer, you grip his face in your palms and tug his lips to yours. He’s soft at first, tentative like he’s unsure this is the right course of action to take when he’d been trying to get to the bottom of why you were acting weird. But he’s only human, after all, and when your lips part to allow his tongue to tangle with yours, his reservations fly out the window.

You’ve kissed boys before, but it’s never been like this. Never been all consuming, like you can feel him with every cell of your being. You shift in his lap, pressing as close as possible. Eddie’s hands land on your hips, stilling your movement as he pants against you.

“Christ, you gotta slow down,” he bites out, teeth gritted. His eyes are dark and half-lidded with lust, a look you’ve seen only in flashes before one of you pulled back for a breath.

“I don’t want to slow down anymore,” you whisper.

His eyes go comically wide. “Are you sure?”

In response, you grip the hem of your dress, pulling it over your head and dropping it to the floor behind you. You fight the urge to cover yourself, feeling more exposed than you ever have as his gaze roams your body, taking in your breasts in a simple cotton bra and the high cut panties to match.

“Ed—“

Your voice cuts off in a yelp as Eddie flips you onto your back on the couch cushions, his body wedged between your thighs as he looks down on you with a smirk. He licks his lips as he trails a hand from your neck, between the valley of your chest, over your tummy. Your muscles clench and you feel the pinch of goosebumps in the wake of his fingers.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie murmurs, voice deeper than you’ve ever heard. He plants a kiss to the spot near your ear that’s extra sensitive. “How’d I get so lucky, huh? Pretty thing,” he coos. Your eyes go wide and your mouth goes dry at his words, and you try to lift your hips for some friction to relieve the pressure building between your legs.

He continues to plant kisses down your neck, nipping the thin skin with his teeth. The pain makes you bite out a labored curse that makes him chuckle.

“Tell me what you want, princess,” he says. “I’ll give you everything your sweet little brain can come up with.”

“I want…I want you to touch me.”

“I'm already doing that. Try again.” One of his hands slides under your back, nimble fingers popping the hook of your bra. “And be very specific.”

Your cheeks burn as he gazes at you expectantly. “I want you…to touch me down there.”

“Oh? Here?” He runs his thumb over your clit, the sudden sensation making you cry out. “You want me to touch your pretty pussy?”

You feel like you’re in danger of spontaneously combusting with how hot you feel all over. All you can do is nod vigorously as Eddie curls his hands into the waist of your panties and tugs them down and off your legs.

“Hold your legs up for me,” Eddie says, grabbing your hands and positioning them beneath your knees. “Let me get a good look at you.”

He leans back, down exactly that, staring down at your exposed body with reverence. You try to close your legs, but his hands on your thighs stop you as he makes a disapproving noise with his tongue.

“Good girls do as they’re told, princess. You wanna be a good girl for me right?” He asks, tone condescending in a way that makes a new wave of lust wash over you. With a whimper, you nod in reply. “Words,” he demands.

“Y-yeah. I wanna be a good girl,” you whisper.

“You wanna be my good girl,” he clarifies.

“I wanna be your good girl.”

“Christ.” He leans forward, grasping your face in his hand and kissing you senseless. He pulls away all too quickly, planting frantic kisses to your neck, shoving your bra out of the way to palm your tits, alternating between circling one hardened nipple with his thumb or his tongue. Your back arches and you squirm beneath him.

“You’re a little sensitive, aren’t you?” He asks, that mean tone back in his words.

He doesn’t wait for your reply as he moves on, those lips trailing down your tummy until they’re nipping and kissing at your inner thighs. He brings his thumbs to your wet heat, using them to spread you open before dragging his tongue through your folds.

“Eddie!”

“Fuck ,” he groans, tongue circling your clit in a maddening rhythm. He alternates between the sensitive nub and dipping the tip of his tongue into your entrance.

You’re pretty sure you’re having an out of body experience. His mouth feels so good, pulling every drop of pleasure possible from your body. All the blood rushes from your head and you writhe beneath him in desperation.

There’s a firm pressure at your slick hole and your eyes pop open, your head lifting from the couch to watch as he slides one finger into you until his ring is biting against your hot flesh. Your mouth drops open and his eyes lift to yours, his face damn near unrecognizable as he thrusts the digit in and out of you.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he bites out. “I’m going to add another finger, and you’re gonna come all over my hand and my face before I give you my cock.”

“Oh my god,” you say, the words breathless and needy as he slips another finger in, the stretch a slight burn that subsides quickly. His fingers curl and drag against something that makes you cry out. And when you do, he smirks, lowering his face to tongue your clit in tandem with the thrust of his hand.

You come with a shout, the noises of his hand lewd and wet as he works you through it. Your hands slip from your legs, unable to hold up the dead weight of them as you shake beneath him.

Eddie leans back, standing from the couch and scrambling out of his clothes in a way that would be comical if your brain wasn’t turned to mush. But as he tugs his pants down his thighs, your brain suddenly catches up with the program and you drink in the sight of him greedily.

The lines of compact muscle, the contrast of his tattoos against his pale skin, the light dusting of hair at the top of his chest and the matching trail that leads to…

Holy shit.

His cock is hard, an angry red at the head that looks almost painful. You have nothing to compare him to besides your own fingers but you know damn well that he’s thick and long enough to make you nervous.

He joins you on the couch, one knee planted to the cushions between your legs. He fists his length, giving it a leisurely pump as he stares down at your boneless body.

“There’s, uh, condoms. Behind the cushion,” you tell him, the words making you blush for what feels like the millionth time that evening.

“Oh? Did my sweet, innocent little princess prepare for this? Did my little slut want my cock so bad tonight?” He asks. Your eyes go wide and a moan claws up your throat. “Ah, she likes that, huh?”

You nod vigorously. He reaches a hand behind the back cushions, fishing for the box. He pulls a foil package out of the box and tears it open. “Eyes on me,” he says as he rolls the latex over his cock.

He plants a palm beside your head, his other hand gripping his cock and guiding it until the head is positioned at your weeping entrance. “This might hurt a little, baby. You gotta tell me if it’s too much.”

“Okay. I trust you.”

His eyes go soft. With a sweet kiss to your lips, a juxtaposition to the man who’d just called you a little slut. He presses forward, the blunt head of him slipping inside you with little resistance.

There’s a bite of pressure as he moves forward, your body giving way to the intrusion with a slight sting that subsides a delicious fullness. He pauses once his hips are flush to yours, a hand coming up to brush across your forehead, moving the sweat slick strands of hair from your face.

“You okay?” He asks. You nod, tilting your chin up for a kiss. He indulges you, smiling into it in a way that makes your heart flutter.

Eddie holds himself like that for a while, kissing you and letting you adjust. When the burn subsides and you’re just left with a slight ache and a new sensation of fullness, you shift your hips slightly under him.

He draws back slightly, the drag of his cock making you gasp and all the breath leaving your lungs as he drives back in. He sets a pace of short, hard thrusts that have you digging your nails into his back, dragging them down and leaving blooming red trails in the skin.

“That’s it, sweetheart, you mark me up however you want,” Eddie grunts. His thrusts become longer, deeper, more of a roll of his hips than a pound. A hand circles your throat, the grip gentle as his fingers press into the sides. “Sweet little angel, gripping my cock so tight.”

“Oh god,” you cry. Eddie leans back, the angle growing deeper. He brings his other hand to your lips, three of his fingers slipping inside your mouth. You run your tongue over the familiar calluses and he groans low in his throat.

Those spit slick fingers leave your mouth and he circles them over your clit roughly. “I want this little cunt to give me everything.”

With a whimper, the tightening of your belly releases in a wave, surprising you with its ferocity. The sensation is so unlike any of the times you’ve spent in the dark, your own hands exploring your body.

Eddie thrusts a few more times, his tempo stuttering as he chases his own release. He stills against you, hips pressed tightly to yours as he moans your name.

He pulls out of you, twisting to the side so that he’s lying sandwiched between your body and the couch so as not to crush you. He throws an arm over your waist, burying his head against your neck with a satisfied sigh.

“You sure know how to show a lady a good time, Munson,” you say. He laughs against your cooling skin.

“Would show you a good time for the rest of our lives if you’ll marry me,” he replies.

You huff out a little laugh before saying, “Not a chance.”

“I’ll change your mind.”

And not for the first time, you realize he’s right.

— 5 —

It’s the summer of 1990, and Corroded Coffin has a top hit on the radio and their first big gig out on the road tonight in Chicago.

You’re backstage at the venue, sitting in the green room and watching Eddie pace nervously. He looks especially fuckable, to the point you’re having trouble concentrating on his anxious monologue.

Denim battle vest, the same one that’s served him since high school, draped over his bare shoulders and exposing the muscle of his biceps and tantalizing peeks of his abs and chest. His hair is the longest it’s been but still the messy curls you love to run your hands through. He’s applied a smudge of eyeliner around his eyes, making his brown eyes larger and more hypnotizing.

Dear god, you’re going to combust.

“Are you even listening?” He asks, stopping dead in his tracks with his hands on his hips.

You smirk at him. “Not really. I already know you’re worrying about nothing. I’m just thinking about how fast I can make you come before you go on stage.”

His mouth drops open in surprise, but his eyes go dark. “Get in the bathroom. Now.”

You hop up from the ratty couch, sliding your hand over his stomach as you pass and throwing him a wink. He follows in behind you, shutting the door forcefully and flipping the lock.

His hand wraps around the back of your neck, tangling in your hair and pulling you into a bruising kiss. On a breath he murmurs, “I love you.”

“Love you more, Munson.”

“Now get on your fucking knees.”

You drop like a rock, the linoleum cold against your knees, the fabric of your fishnets uncomfortable ywhere it presses against your skin. Eddie unbuttons his fly, pulling his hardening cock from the confines of his jeans. He grips the bottom of your jaw in one hand and growls out, “Open your mouth.”

You do as you’re told, sticking your tongue out and waiting for him to slide his length into your waiting mouth. He taps the tip against your tongue, teasing you, before he slips it past your lips and into the wet heat.

“That’s it, baby,” Eddie whispers. “Just like that.”

You let Eddie set the pace he needs, both of his hands digging into your hair in a tight hold as he uses your mouth. You’ve got spit leaking out of the corners of your lips and your eyes are watering from the lack of air, but you just look up at him through your lashes and moan.

“Christ, you have no idea, no idea , what you do to me, princess,” he groans, his head dropping back, hips moving faster but more shallowly.

There’s a hard knock at the door and the band’s new manager, Steven, calls through the flimsy wood, “You better get your ass out here, Munson, you’re on in five.”

But Eddie just keeps going, ignoring the man that holds the power to make or break his career in his hands, growling out, “Eyes on me.”

Your lashes are sticky with tears and mascara as you look up and watch him unravel, the ecstasy running across his features making your core clench. His release hits the back of your throat and you swallow around him.

When he’s done, he pulls you up by the hair, gripping your chin and hauling you into a rough kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth even as it tastes of him.

He pulls away, his thumbs swiping beneath your eyes to clean up the black streaks left by your mascara. “Marry me?” Eddie asks, and you smile at him.

Another knock sounds at the door. “Alright, lovebirds. Two minutes.”

“You better get out there and knock ‘em dead, Eds,” you murmur, leaning your forehead against his.

“Just for you,” he tells you with a wink, pulling back to right himself in his pants. He flips the lock on the door and pulls it open, the dark bathroom flooding with light.

The rest of the guys are crowded in the green room and Steve looks at Eddie and rolls his eyes. “Finally. Alright, boys, let’s show ‘em what you’ve got.”

He leads them out of the room and to the stage and you trail behind, finding a spot stage right to watch from the wings. Your face hurts from smiling so hard, watching the same boys who used to play in a garage playing on a stage in front of a crowd screaming along with them, for them.

“You’ve been an amazing crowd, Chicago!” Eddie screams into the mic. The answering roar is deafening. “We’ve got one more song and it’s a brand new one.”

A melody you don’t recognize fills the concert hall. The intro is heavy on Eddie and Jeff’s guitars and as Eddie begins to sing, Frankie and Gareth join in.

I'll be your dream, I'll be your wish, I'll be your fantasy

I'll be your hope, I'll be your love, be everything that you need

I love you more with every breath truly, madly, deeply do

I will be strong, I will be faithful 'cause I'm counting on

A new beginnin'

A reason for livin'

A deeper meaning, yeah

Eddie’s face is tilted in your direction as he sings, eyes finding yours as he starts in on the chorus.

I wanna stand with you on a mountain

I wanna bathe with you in the sea

I wanna lay like this forever

Until the sky falls down on me

You smile at him, your eyes stinging at the emotion welling in them.

And when the stars are shining brightly in the velvet sky

I'll make a wish, send it to heaven and make you want to cry

The tears of joy for all the pleasure and the certainty

That we're surrounded by the comfort and protection

Of the highest powers

In lonely hours

The tears devour you

And devour you they do.

— +1 —

Eddie’s got one hand on the wheel and the other in the pocket of his leather jacket, fingers running along the sharp corners of the box he's hidden away in there.

You’re beside him in the passenger seat, practically bouncing in excitement. It’s 1991, one year to the day of the release of Corroded Coffin’s first hit record. They’ve been on one tour already, but he’s home for a three month stretch and now that you’re both in a good place financially, you’re looking at houses to buy to get out of the little two bedroom apartment you’d been renting.

“This is so exciting,” you say for the hundredth time. And for the hundredth time, Eddie grins at you. “Our first house!”

“I feel like we did this backwards. Should we have bought a house before buying a dive bar? Is that the normal order?” You’d used a portion of your savings to buy The Hideout from Hank, who finally retired to Florida content in the knowledge that the bar was in the safe hands of the girl he’d begrudgingly hired fresh out of high school and couldn’t shake himself loose from.

You smack him in the arm. “Shut up. Who cares. You’ve always done things your own way. Why stop now?”

“You’re right.” He grabs your hand, planting a kiss to your knuckles.

“I hope this one is nice,” you comment, staring out the window. Eddie smiles to himself.

He’d picked this one to go see. In fact, he’s already been to it and immediately placed an offer on it. You think you’re meeting up with a realtor, but the keys dangle from his key ring already.

Eddie pulls up to the little three bedroom, two bathroom ranch situated about five miles north of The Hideout. The lots are large, the homes bordered in the back by thick woods. The one he’s purchased is a deep navy blue with a bright red door and he watches your eyes take it in.

“Oh, it’s adorable,” you say wistfully. You jump from the passenger seat, looking around. “Where’s the realtor? You told him noon, didn’t you?”

“Oh, we don’t need a realtor,” Eddie says. You tilt your head at him, brow furrowed. “I bought it.”

“You bought it?”

“Yep.”

“You bought a house?”

“Yep.”

“You bought this house?”

“Sure did.” He holds the key up to you. “Go ahead.”

You snatch it from his hand and run up the front walk, shouldering your way in. Eddie trails it behind you and watches as you run from room to room, your smile growing bigger and brighter with each pass.

“This closet!” He hears you shout from the master bedroom. “It’s bigger than our bedroom at the apartment!”

He chuckles as he goes to the living room and stands in the center, lowering himself to one knee and pulling the ring box from his pocket. He settles in to wait for you to find him.

It doesn’t take long. You tear into the room, speaking a mile a minute about how you want to decorate, but you stop short when you see him there.

Eddie swallows nervously. He’s asked you to marry him since the first time he’s met you, and you’d always told him, “Not a chance.”

Over time, the exchange became more synonymous with any other couple saying “I love you” and “I love you, too”, just with your own flair.

But now, he means it. And he lifts the lid of the box to show the plain silver band sitting in the velvet. “Hey, princess. You ready to change your mind?”

You rush towards him, throwing your arms around his neck and toppling the two of you to the ground in a heap. You grab his face, kissing him deeply.

“That a yes?” He asks when you break apart, breathless and panting.

“It’s most definitely a yes, Munson.” You grin at him as he lifts your left hand and slips the ring onto it.

Right where it belongs.

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