#and again he can't run from it and he can't deflect it and he can't hide from it. he has to just accept it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fangswbenefits · 3 months

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Fever

Summary: You're running a fever and Astarion offers to cool you down… only to make things a whole lot worse.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Dry humping. Vampire bite and blood sucking. Precum and cum. Skin to skin contact with the purpose of thermoregulation that ends up getting out of hand. Inappropriate use of tadpole. Banter.

Word count: 3k

A mind-numbing chilling shiver tore throughout your entire body, causing your muscles to contract involuntarily in a desperate attempt to keep yourself warm.

The bonfire crackled vigorously, emanating a welcome wave of heat, as you embraced the blanket around you, keeping both knees tightly close to your chest.

"You can't possibly be cold."

Astarion.

Great.

You lowered your quivering chin to rest on your forearm, definitely not in the mood - or mental capacity - to voice out a proper reply.

"It's blazing hot tonight," he continued, entering your narrowed field of vision. "Hello? I'm talking to you."

Nodding, you hugged yourself tighter.

He scoffed. "What is the matter with you? Oh, do not tell me you're turning into a mindflayer… what a nuisance."

Astarion and his eternal aptitude for inconvenient remarks.

You took a deep breath, bracing yourself for what was to come. "I think I'm running a fever."

Astarion lowered himself to eye-level with you, his body close enough for you to make out the swirling flames of the bonfire dancing in his crimson eyes.

"So what? Drink a healing potion."

You inwardly cussed, pressing your forehead firmly against your arm with an exasperated sigh, effectively hiding from his burning gaze.

Clearly, your silence paired with the deflecting physical reaction was enough for him to draw a conclusion.

"You don't have any."

Silence.

"What have you done with our potions?" His voice immediately shifted into an accusatory hiss.

Another shiver.

This time, you mustered the strength to look him in the eye. "Some passers-by were injured by thieves and asked for help… so… I…" your voice faltered as you struggled to keep your thoughts straight.

He was already pinching the bridge of his nose, his face twisting into a deep scowl. "So you gave them all of our potions?!"

You shrugged with a faint smile and Astarion went ballistic.

"Why must you carry this deathwish around? And why must you drag me along with you?" He growled dramatically. "Why didn’t you just ignore them? Or – I don't know – not give them anything?"

You matched his frown. "They were severely injured. They would have perished from their wounds."

He threw both arms up in exasperation as he raised to his feet at once.

"Well, better them than me – or you, for that matter," he added, both hands on his hips. "You're far too precious to be killed, darling."

How could you forget?

And he was right… to an extent.

You chose silence.

It was a very effective way to handle Astarion whenever he went on a rambling spree.

"When is Shadowheart returning with Gale?"

"Soon. I hope."

He groaned in response. "You're actually fortunate I'm so resourceful."

Your head turned to him and you watched as he strolled away, disappearing into his tent.

A jab of realisation hit you all of a sudden, as you vaguely recalled rummaging through his belongings earlier on when he left to hunt an animal to feed on.

Fuck.

You winced.

"Where are my healing potions?"

Your eyes dropped close and your teeth clattered.

Angry footsteps drew near at lightning speed. "You stole from me?!"

You shrugged. "You steal from everyone."

He then crouched down again, eyes narrowing dangerously. "I steal for us – the collective good!"

You did scoff this time. "Then why were you hiding them away?"

"Call it safekeeping. Although I was careless enough to teach you lockpicking, wasn't I?”

A firm hand came to grip your forearm, but you flinched away. “It's fine. I'll be fine.”

He glared at you in silence as if your reply had snapped him out of his tantrum.

There was no point in arguing with him, as he was known to have low tolerance for unexpected predicaments.

But even through your feverish haze, you could see he was no longer pursuing an argument.

After all, his bond to you was built on meeting halfway, even when disagreements occurred.

“On your feet, darling,” he said, extending his hand to you as rose to his full height.

You grabbed it and pushed yourself upwars, nearly losing your footing. Luckily, Astarion was agile enough for both of you, and he quickly steadied you with both hands firmly gripping your shoulders.

“There you go,” he said almost lovingly. “Let's take care of that.”

You nodded tiredly as he wrapped an arm around you, guiding you into his tent.

“Sorry for the potions.”

He chuckled lightly. “I guess it can't be helped with that bleeding heart of yours.”

You didn’t even try refuting his remark. He was absolutely right. But still, you didn't regret having helped those people.

And now you were stuck in this predicament until Shadowheart returned.

It could be worse… at least you weren't alone.

The shivers were only getting more intense and you watched as Astarion suddenly pulled his shirt off in one swift move.

Instantly, your jaw dropped. “What – Astarion?”

He eyed you with sheet amusement. “Darling, I swear this is not what it looks like.”

Frankly, you weren't even sure if this wasn't just your mind playing tricks on you.

Why would he even remove his shirt in the first place?

“Considering our current situation, this is the best course of action. Skin-to-skin. I'm cold enough to drop your temperature.”

Your eyes widened.

Oh?

He tossed the shirt to the side and moved to stand closer to you. “Let me help you out of your clothes.”

Under different circumstances, this would have been a welcome exchange, but this particular scenario didn't make room for any of those thoughts.

So, you merely stood still as he tugged at your own shirt, undoing each button, hands traveling down your torso.

A wave of coldness took over as your skin met the uncomfortable night breeze.

“It's too cold… Astarion…” you said in between clattering teeth.

He shoved the fabric off your shoulders and down your arms, eyes always holding yours.

You felt your nipples harden, but none of that seemed to matter. He had seen you naked many times and you felt comfortable around him.

But you also felt ill.

And no amount of loving stares could ease the way your body spasmed uncontrollably near his.

“You're burning up,” he said, as he pressed the back of his cold hand to your forehead.

His touch brought immediate relief and you leaned into it, earning a soft caress as his hand trailed down.

As if disconnected from your mind, your body moved on its own accord, closing the gap that separated you from Astarion, and you gasped as his chest came into contact with yours.

The difference in temperature was so stark, that even Astarion flinched momentarily before his arms closed around you.

A gentle tug inside your head made you wince.

The tadpole.

It was trying to connect with his.

It often happened in moments of intimacy when both of you allowed that door to open.

But now was not the time or moment, and you forced yourself to repress it.

Your chin met his shoulder and you eased into him until you could feel the shivers begin to subside.

You weren't sure how long it took for your body's temperature to drop, but what you did know was that you could tear yourself away from him.

Astarion's cool skin came as the relief you were seeking, and you allowed yourself to let out a shaky breath as you clung onto him.

“I've got you.”

His voice was low and tender and your racing heart skipped a bit.

Even standing, you felt as though you could drift off into a slumber at any moment.

More time passed.

More silence.

More comfort.

And the worm squirmed again.

You promptly ignored it.

Astarion shifted against you and you sighed blissfully, resting your cheek on his shoulder, eyelids dropping.

Another tug and you frowned.

What was happening?

The tadpole rattled almost violently and you allowed yourself to let go.

As soon as you felt it reach Astarion's, you gasped and your eyes flew open.

You could faintly feel pulsating waves of pleasure through the tadpole.

His mind laced with yours and that was when you felt a growing pressure in your lower half.

Not now. Not now. Gods.

His voice echoed inside your head in a never-ending plea.

He sounded desperate.

And he felt… hard.

Positively aroused.

Think of Withers. Think of Volo and his abysmal outfits.

That wasn’t exactly the mental images you would have preferred in this moment, but it was quite clear that he sought a distraction.

You shuddered into him and he let out a low groan in response.

Was he aware that you could hear his thoughts? Did he even care?

Your tadpole vibrated evenly and his yearn for friction became yours.

Astarion… what are you doing?

He jolted under your touch, but didn't utter a single word out loud.

Instead, he focused on caressing your naked back with gentle fingers.

You're inside my head when I crave to be inside you.

His bluntness was enough to cause your body to react.

The fever had been broken, but the heat refused to leave.

Maybe we should pull away.

He let out a chuckle that rumbled in his chest.

You're still quite warm, darling.

Your tadpole held on to his viciously, and it was quite evident that the connection wasn't going to be easily severed.

Not when you could now feel how hard his cock was for you.

Inside your mind.

It was as if you were experiencing everything happening in his body.

The gentle throbbing in his lower half was now your own, too.

You can feel it, can't you?

He was almost purring through his tadpole and you tried to find words, but his hard cock was too distracting.

You had often wondered how an erection would feel like for a man.

Now you had your answer.

And it felt almost… urgent.

I never felt this before…

His cock twitched and you felt all of it.

I suppose we never allowed it ourselves, darling.

Your hands locked behind his back, but you struggled to keep your fingers from slipping as sweat gathered along your skin.

As expected, the stimulus was enough to stir your clit, earning another chuckle from him.

Oh, I can feel it swelling up…

You clenched.

It didn't take long for wetness to pool in your underwear.

The two of you were still very much covered from the waist down.

It was almost painful how restricted his cock was against the fabric of his trousers.

Now you know how it feels when you get me hard.

Instinctively, you began to grind against him, seeking that delicious friction that only he could provide.

Or maybe we should save this for a more suitable moment.

His suggestion caused you to bite your lip to muffle a groan of disapproval.

We can just stay like this… for a while.

He hardened even more and you were beginning to feel conflicted on what to focus on: his cock or your clit.

You can focus on both, sweetheart.

You clenched again.

His hands dropped to your waist and he pulled your hips harder against his.

Gods… this hurts…

It truly hurt to feel his cock restrained like that, leaking precum as he kept a steady pace.

You could feel how soaked he was getting.

Does your clit always feel this good grinding against me?

Your arms looped around his neck for support, because you didn't think you had it in you to withstand the unexpected duplication of pleasure.

How are you getting harder?

This time, he groaned in response, angling his hips so you could also physically feel how hard his cock was.

Another clench was all it took for him to move his lips to your neck, fangs grazing your skin.

Would you clench harder if I bit you?

You shuddered, bucking your hips as if they were Astarion's. Now you knew how it felt whenever he began to grind against you.

Astarion… you get harder when you bite me, don't you?

He growled before his lips latched on to you, suckling gently.

Do you want to feel my cock getting harder from your blood?

Maybe you should postpone this endeavour. Even if the fever was no longer an issue, maybe it was better to wait out whatever had caused it.

But he was also waiting on you, his fangs eager to break skin and sink into you.

Logic was replaced with arousal and you nodded.

Please…

Astarion didn't need to be told twice, and you let out a pained yelp, as he tore through the barrier and found his target.

With the first gulp of his blood, you felt your mouth drop open, and not because of pain or discomfort.

No.

You could feel your blood coursing through his body, rapidly shooting downwards and filling his cock with each passing second.

The pleasure was nigh unbearable and you kept on grinding against him, desperate for the friction.

He lifted one of your legs to grant him better access and as soon as he found a sweet spot, he began thrusting as if there were no clothes in the way.

You kept clenching around nothing, squeezing out more of your wetness whilst being able to feel just how drenched he was for you.

With each roll of his hips, you felt more and more precum leaking.

The upside to having this tadpole connection was that you got to hear his voice even when his mouth was busy.

Your walls began to squeeze, yearning for his cock.

Darling, you feel so tight.

His cock was gradually getting warmer from your blood and his balls were getting tighter.

He was close.

He was inside your head and he was dangerously close.

I can feel your clit. You're close, too.

You expected to feel lightheaded from him feeding on you, but it was as if his vigour was now yours.

Your body refused to wither as you remained linked to his.

Dampness was seeping through your crotch as he humped more eagerly than ever.

The temptation to just undo his trousers and let him sink inside you was

I need to be inside you.

It wasn’t a request.

He was begging.

But your ears caught the distant sound of voices nearing the tent.

Astarion. Someone is coming….

He growled, pulling away from your neck and capturing your lips with his blood-stained ones.

You tasted metal on your tongue.

I'm close…

And so were you.

It was probably a mixture of the thrill of getting caught and how delicious his thick cock felt from being pumped up with your blood.

It was overwhelming.

Your mind was not even focusing on your swollen clit.

You just wanted his cock to find release.

And it was a shared sentiment, because Astarion kept on praising how drenched you were for him and how much you were throbbing.

He could feel your clit the same way you could feel his cock.

It was as if the two of you had swapped places and were both desperate to reach the climatic release.

The voices were getting closer and your grip tightened around his neck, his tongue tracing your lower lip before he began suckling in it.

It was an effective way to muffle his moans.

Clench again…

Your body obeyed his words and you clenched in frustration, wishing you could drive his cock inside you and empty his balls.

By this point, you were able to make out Shadowheart’s voice.

Quick…

He kept on grinding and you felt his balls tighten even more as he neared the edge of the precipice, his cock twitching and throbbing as he toppled over.

“Gods!” you almost yelled.

Astarion grunted in between gasps.

Shock and unfathomable pleasure entwined as you felt the first strings of cum shoot from his cock, pooling around it as it remained enclosed in his soaked underwear.

His pleasure was your own.

Literally.

Your mind blanked and your hips moved on their own as if you were the one thrusting his cock, mouth agape and heart almost leaping from your chest in sheer bewilderment.

You're almost there…

His words rang inside your head but he now knew better than yourself how close you were and you simply let go as his warm cum began seeping through his trousers.

So much cum…

Another voice was heard nearby and it catapulted you into your own bodily climax.

And this time, Astarion groaned harder than before as he felt your rhythmic contractions flutter throughout your walls.

“Gods… this–”

Astarion was stunned into silence, having to bite down on your shoulder to keep himself from being too loud as your orgasm tore across his own body.

You felt the contractions.

You felt your clit pulsating in unison with your heartbeat.

But your pleasure was his.

You pressed a hand on the back of his neck, cradling him as he rode out your climax.

Your tadpole squirmed tiredly and you figured you had overstayed your welcome with this sudden and intense connection.

Just as quickly as it had occurred, the link was severed at once and there was a sudden quiet in your head.

Astarion slumped slightly against you, dropping your leg and face buried in the crook of your neck.

“That was…”

Your uneven breathing held you back for a moment. “... amazing?”

He pulled away and your vision cleared with a few blinks only to see your blood smeared across his lips and chin.

“Unexpected, I reckon.”

From outside his tent, you heard someone clear their throat.

“Why am I not surprised that they're in their tent again?”

“Ah, Shadowheart. Young love tends to be lively and intense.” Gale tried to reason.

A pause.

“Well, they could try to be quieter about it, then.”

You glanced down to find the front of his trousers, realising just how much of his cum had spilled from the waistband.

“Are you still feeling feverish?” he asked, capturing your chin in between his fingers to tilt your head up, so that your eyes could meet his.

You shook your head.

“Are you still upset about the potions?”

He rolled his eyes. “I am upset that it took us this long to take full advantage of these blasted worms.”

Masterlist

#astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x oc #astarion smut #astarion x female tav #astarion x female reader #astarion x f!tav #astarion x f!reader

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yowlthinks · 7 months

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The Final 15: Aziraphale's decision matrix in a no-choice situation

I have been thinking and reading about what happened since season 2 came out, and I think I have finally been able to put it all down into a logical sequence. This meta is the result of both countless posts I have read on tumblr and my own thoughts.

But let us start from the beginning, which is essentially Metatron's offer:

Notice how Aziraphale consistently declines the honour, as Metatron keeps pressing. When he says that Aziraphale is the perfect choice he also mentions that Aziraphale "is a leader, is honest and doesn't just tell people what they want to hear", which is of course a lie and they both know it. Initially, Aziraphale can't deny it because he can't just go "well, actually, I have been doing exactly that, stretching the truth in my reports and on a few notable occasions outright lying to my superiors and even God Herself". So he deflects to "where will I get my coffee?", preferring to highlight his attachment to Earth. In response to that Metatron makes his final move: he knows about Aziraphale's partnership with Crowley, and that means he knows about the lies.

This threat to Crowley gets Aziraphale to the following decision matrix:

Telling Crowley about the threat is useless. Aziraphale knows he will suggest running away together, and that puts them both in danger. Similarly, running away alone / hiding Aziraphale will not be a good move either because Metatron will not hesitate to harm Crowley and use him as a bait for Aziraphale.

So this means that Aziraphale's best option is not telling Crowley about the threat and persuading him to come with Aziraphale, his second best being going alone. Both of these offer best safety guarantees for Crowley, and this is something Aziraphale would not compromise on.

So our angel launches into this entire speech about making a difference. These are the only arguments he can come up with on the fly regarding why he took the position (the position he does not want! At a place he does not want to go back to!). And he is terrified that Metatron will come back and he won't be able to finish this conversation, won't be able to persuade Crowley. Add to this the fact that Crowley is clearly trying to have an important conversation with him too. A conversation they would like to have in private, but which Aziraphale knows can be interrupted at any moment. That's why he tries to stop Crowley, that's why he is constantly glancing out of the window.

Aziraphale is angry and frustrated, but this is mostly anger at Metatron who put him into this position, at the unfairness of it all, at himself for not being able to get Crowley to agree. It is the despair that just when Crowley confesses his love, instead of being able to say "I love you" back, he has to swallow it down again. Aziraphale's "I forgive you" is "I forgive you for not trusting me to make the best choice for us both", "I forgive you for not agreeing to go with me, I understand why you declined". And this aligns neatly with the theory about the Nightingale song in the car being a message from Aziraphale: it is his way of saying "I love you, I chose you, I chose our side, and that’s why I had to go".

And you know what? Crowley is a clever noodle and he knows Aziraphale well, so he will figure it out, he will spot this out of character, under-duress-only style of decision-making and start untangling that mystery.

We all know how it ends, and I can't wait to see it!

UPD: to put the above in perspective, see this meta with graphs!

#good omens #gos2 #crowley #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #good omens 2 #gos2 spoilers #justice for crowley #gos2 meta #good omens meta #gos2 ending #final 15 #gos3 theories

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lalacliffthorne · 9 months

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⚔️ I really don't think now's the best time ⚔️

Azriel x Reader

summary: battlefields are really not the right place for important revelations.

notes: like I said, this is totally inspired by that iconic scene in Pirates of the Carribeans. there's a shit ton of fighting involved, so prepare for graphics. if you want to go all in, listen to this specific part of the soundtrack over and over again and the vibes will be immaculate. now go and have fun, kids.

______________________________________________________________

The middle of a battlefield was arguably the worst place for any kind of not remotely expected revelation.

“Why,”, gritting my teeth, I swung my swords and neatly decapitated the huge, wolf-like beast, “do they,”, dodging a blow, I dropped to my knees, whirling through the mud and slicing open another one's belly, “keep,”, I slid to my feet and finished in an angry, “coming?!”

Slashing my sword across a soldier's throat, I turned around. A gust of wind sent a splatter of rain right into my face, strands of soaked hair clinging to my cheeks as I breathed heavily, my gaze darting over the world going to shit around me, my heart rising in my chest as I tried to catch a glimpse at the familiar sight of blue blazing siphons and leathally flowing shadows.

The battlefield was complete and utter chaos. The heavy rain that had set in only shortly after the begin of the battle had turned the land into one huge muddy puddle, dirt splashing and covering allies and enemies alike. Our defenses seemed to be close to being overrun. In the sky, only a few Illyrians were left fighting alongside Gwyn, the only Valkyrie on the northern flank, up against gryphons with talons like iron and bloodred eyes. The rest of the Illyrians had taken to the ground, now fighting side by side with the Fae warriors left on foot, but more enemies seemed to just come flooding from north, like a never ending stream of monstrous beasts and soldiers armed to the teeth.

Something churned in my chest, and I had to fight the surge of dread rising in my chest.

Unless Feyre turned up with reinforcements soon, we were screwed.

There was a call of my name, deep and thundering over the sound of battle, and when I slashed my swords over one of the beast's throat and raised my head, my heart tilted in a wild flutter.

Azriel kicked a soldier back before turning to look at me over his shoulder. His dark hair was soaked by the rain, mud sprinkled over his armor, the sword in his hand and Truthteller in his other gleaming with blood. His eyes looked wild, but something flashed through them for nothing more than a second when they found mine.

“I need to tell you something!” His deep voice reverberated over the battlefield.

I sent a soldier flying with a kick to the chest and caught another's blade with my crossed ones, yelling back: “I'm a little busy at the moment!”

Slicing my swords down, I dropped to my knees, sliding over the muddy ground and taking down a row of soldiers with blades to their legs before coming back to my feet, and my breath hitched, my heart falling out of rhythm when Azriel appeared right in front of me from a cloud of shadows, wet hair curling and mud and blood spattered over his face as his eyes darted over my face, wild and almost desperate.

“It can't wait!”, he called.

Breathing heavily, I stared up at him through the rain pelting down, feeling the ache of my sore body wash over me now that I wasn't moving, and my brows furrowed as concern tightened my chest; because I had never seen him so blatantly unguarded and expressive, emotions practically swirling in his eyes.

“What –“

Azriel pushed me back, and I whirled around, deflecting a blow of a soldier coming at me as the shadowsinger rammed his daggers into another one's chest in the place I had just stood, rain running over his face and shadows rising, wrapping around a third soldier's throat.

“I really don't think now´s the best time!”, I yelled, the slight absurdity of Azriel of all people deciding he needed to talk in the middle of a battlefield making my voice dip almost comically.

"This might be the only time!” Azriel's deep voice vibrated over my skin, his rough shout audible even over the roar of the rain and the clashing of weapons, and I whirled around, sword flying down on a soldier´s neck and sending blood spattering.

A hand closed around my biceps and pulled me back, then I was spun around, and my heart skipped into my throat when Azriel's chest pressed into mine and he dipped his head, his eyes flying over my face as streams of rain ran over his own, and something like desperation flashed through them when he called over the war cries and clashing of weapons: “I –“

His eyes darted up as my instincts flared in warning, and we moved at the same time, his shadows throwing up a wall against a wave of ash arrows as I slid past him and Threw one of my swords at the beast, huge and bear-like, flying at us. The weapon sank into its side, causing it to crash onto the ground, and I whirled around and rammed my other sword into its throat.

“I need you to know –“ Azriel broke off again, dodging a sword and gutting the belonging soldier in one smooth movement, and I landed a kick on another soldier's back.

“Are you sure this can'´t wait?!”, I yelled back, diving to avoid a blow to the head and rolling off over my shoulder, sliding through the mud and baring my teeth at a beast that growled back before jumping at me, and I dipped and slit it's throat.

Azriel stabbed his daggers into another wolf-like monster, siphons blazing as he beat his wings and a wave of shadows rolled away, drowning a row of soldiers as he turned, and something staggered in my chest at the sight of him, shadows shrouding his tall, lean body and curling around his shoulders, even broader under his black armor as a flash of lightning illuminated his face.

Even caked in dirt and blood, drenched by the heavy rain as drops of water ran from his hair over his cheekbones, he was utterly and annoyingly beautiful.

“Yes!”, he called back, and I whirled around, swords slashing and reflecting another strike of lightning as thunder rolled and I knocked a soldier to the ground. “I need you to know tha–“

There was a snarl, and I dove out of the way, rolling through the mud as a beast crashed into the spot I had been in a mere heartbeat before. I slammed my swords down into its back with an angry sound, then I raised my head, my heart thrumming and adrenaline rushing through my veines, and my eyes met golden ones, desperate and wild and only hesitant for a second before the chaos vanished, replaced by something else, something deep and worldshaking. Then Azriel's deep voice rumbled over the noise of the battle.

“I love you!”

The world fell still for a moment. Became quiet and stagnant as my heart did one mighty leap.

Then time fell back into place, something staggered in my chest, and my eyes grew wide.

“What?!”

Somehow, I dodged the next blow, parrying another and directing it to the side as I slid my other blade over the soldier's throat, ramming my shoulder into his chest to push him back before turning around wide eyed, and my gaze met another, shining like amber in sunlight.

“You –“

Movement at the corner of my eye made me duck, and I swerved, dropping to my knees and sliding over the muddy ground. Ramming my swords into two soldier's lower regions, I pulled them out and used the momentum to push myself to my feet. Then I whirled around and yelled, disbelief and sheer shock making my voice rise an octave: “You what?!”

A hand closed around my wrist and pulled me forward, and I stumbled into a solid chest, my heart jumping into my throat as my head whipped up and I could feel the sensation of shadows rising behind me and heard swords dropping and a struggle. But it all felt far away, because I could feel Azriel's body press against mine and his eyes were piercing, looking wild and desperate and pained when he called over the noise of the battle, voice rough: “I love you!”

My throat closed as I opened my mouth in shock; Azriel pulled me past him, and I whirled around and parried the blows of a soldier, slicing my swords over his arms before ramming my blades into his chest, then I threw my head around, my wet hair clinging to my face, and Azriel dropped another soldier. For a second, our eyes met, mine wide and completely dumbfounded, then he dodged a blow.

“You –“ I tried to get closer to him but almost got jumped by a huge beast. Shadows wrapped around me and pulled me back, and Azriel slit a soldier's throat before looking back at me, rain running over his face and desperation flashing through his eyes as he yelled: “I had to make sure you knew!“

A war cry made me spin around, and I dodged, swerving the blow of a sword and slashing my own across the soldier's throat, blood spattering as I yelled back in almost comical disbelief: “So you're telling me now?!”

A hand wrapped around my wrist, whirling me out of a beast's reach and right into the way of a sword crashing down, my own blades catching it effortlessly. A familiar scent rose into my nose, distinct even under the smell of blood and dirt, and my heart thrummed into my throat as I pushed, my swords sinking into the soldier's chest, then I spun around, rain dripping over my skin as I stared wide eyed at the male right in front of me, so close I could hear the roughness in his voice even though he didn't shout, one corner of his lips quirking almost helplessly as his eyes dragged over my face like he wanted to ingrain it into his mind when he called hoarsely: “Better late than never.”

My heart skipped into my throat as I stared up at him, and my lips opened, but then Azriel's eyes darted up, and he pulled me out of the way, his sword catching the one of an enemy soldier.

“What –“ I gutted a gigantic wolf, widening my eyes as I threw the shadowsinger a disbelieving look. “How late is late?!” I ducked, swerving the blow of a sword and ramming my own blade into the side of the soldier's neck.

“Since the day you stayed up with me for first time!” Azriel dodged a blow. “Probably even before that.” He raised his head, and something rose in my chest when his amber eyes found mine, his voice raspy when he called lightly: “Probably from the moment I met you.” His gaze flickered over my face, and my heart skipped and tumbled at the emotion swirling inside as he added hoarsely: “It's always been you.”

My throat closed up, and I kicked a beast to the side and sliced through some soldier's necks.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that it's you.” Even though Azriel's voice was raised, I could still hear how unsteady it was, raw as the words tumbled from his lips as he called them over the raging battle around us. “From the day I met you, there was something about you, something that made everything wash away, that made breathing easier, everything easier! Where I didn't have to hide!” His eyes flickered over mine, chest rising and falling quickly with his heavy breaths as rain streamed over his face and his throat worked like he was trying not to swallow. “And it scares the fuck out of me, but I don't care!” His rough voice sent shivers down my spine when his amber iris found mine. “You're it.”

Something rose in my chest, fluttering so wildly it felt a little difficult to breathe.

“Why the hell did you never say anything?!”, I yelled in disbelief, and Azriel's jaw shifted as he dodged a blow, slicing the soldier's throat.

“Because I was afraid you didn't feel the same!”

“What?!” Rain pelted down at me, my soaked armor becoming heavier with every moment, but for a change, I didn't feel any of it. Breathing heavily, I stared at the godsdamned beautiful male, and my heart rose, rose until it was in my throat and the world turned into a tilt. “Of course I do!”

Azriel's head whipped up, and I kicked a soldier away and slashed his throat before turning around, feeling the words echo through me as I yelled: “I love you too!”

As the last syllable left my lips, Azriel stared. Stared as something seemed to rise in his eyes. Then darkness wrapped around him, and he appeared in front of me like formed from shadows. His amber eyes were bright with desperation and something so much deeper, it caused my breath to simply still. Caused my heart to swell and time to slow as he took one last step and slipped his arm around my waist, his scent washing over me in an intoxicating wave, his movements never faltering as he leaned down without an ounce of hesitation, and something shifted in my chest, locking into place with a soundless snap when his lips crashed onto mine in a hard, desperate kiss.

My heart pulsed once. Twice, as something bloomed under my ribs, warm and rising until it thrummed through my whole chest, pulling towards the male pressed against me, body tall and solid and unwavering, and I sucked in a soft, trembling breath.

Oh.

Slowly, Azriel broke the kiss, like he had to force himself to pull back, his nose brushing against mine and causing my heart to miss a step. Then he slowly raised his head, and my breath hitched, gave out completely for a second when I caught the way his iris shifted like amber in golden sunlight, lips parted and gaze piercing mine.

There was a war cry behind me, and Azriel's eyes snapped up, sharpening.

My heart flew, and my instincts kicked in.

Azriel pulled me out of the way with a growl, and I whirled around, swords clashing with two others, blocking blows as I dropped to my knees and turned, and the blades found their home in the soldier's stomachs. Pulling them out, I raised my head, and my throat closed up when I saw our lines slowly beginning to unravel as the steady stream of beasts and soldiers didn´t seem to waver.

My gaze found Azriel, in a cloud of shadows, teeth bared in a snarl and blades flashing in a clash of lightning, rain pelting onto his shoulders, and that feeling in my chest rose until I was sure it had to be visible, like a golden light thrumming under my ribs.

“Azriel!”, I shouted desperately, and he slammed the hilt of his sword onto an enemy soldier's head before turning around, amber eyes finding mine.

My heart tightened almost violently, and before I could stop myself, before even really thinking, I called, my voice a little weak: “Marry me?”

Azriel froze. Stilled on the spot as shadows swirled around him, catching ash arrows and knocking out soldiers, his eyes piercing mine as emotions swirled through them like the storm above.

And suddenly I knew he felt it. Maybe not yet that the bond was vibrating in my chest, thrumming in synch with my racing heart. But that he knew.

Azriel blinked against the rain pouring over his face, and I could see how he suppressed the urge to swallow. Then he shouted, his deep voice causing my breath to flutter: “Gwyn!”

My breath hitched, and Azriel's eyes pierced mine, golden and bare and burning as he yelled: “Marry us!”

“I'm a little occupied right now!”, Gwyn shouted from high above us, cursing as her winged horse barely managed to swerve around a gryphon.

A soldier came at me, and I dodged his blows, sliding my sword over his chest.

“Gwyn!”, I yelled, my voice breaking, and somehow, she must've heard it over the noise and chaos, because she yelled back, only halfheartedly annoyed: “Fine! If I fall, it's your fault!”

I landed a kick on the soldier's chest and sent him backwards, then I turned around, and Azriel was there, his hand wrapping tightly around my wrist as he pulled me forward until we were chest to chest, and that golden thrum in my chest soared at the way his eyes pierced mine.

“Dearly beloved,”, Gwyn yelled over the roar of thunder, “we've gathered here today to pull every single one of your feathers, you miserable excuse of a chicken!”

There was an irritated screech followed by a scuffle high over our heads, and Azriel pushed me back as two enemy soldiers came at us with swords drawn. Swinging around, I sent my blade down onto the right one's hand, severing it cleanly, and as he screamed, I shoved my sword into his chest.

Azriel called my name, and when my head whipped around, his hand closed around mine, pulling me out of the way of a beast and with my back into his chest, his deep voice rumbling through my body when he shouted over the rain: “Do you take me,”, I kicked out and the beast yelped, “to be your husband?”

Slashing my sword over the beast's snout, a laugh bubbled in my chest when Azriel spun me around, and my heart rose in my chest when I stared up at him, feeling pressure build in my throat as his eyes darted over my face, almost like he was expecting me to change my mind, pull back -

“I do!”

Azriel blinked, and his eyes brightened, became as radiant as amber held into the evening sun. Something shifted in my chest when a smile spread over his face, widening with every second, until creases formed in his cheeks and crinkles around his eyes, and I had to physically fight to keep myself from burying my fingers in his messy hair and pull him in to kiss him.

There was a war cry from our left, and I widened my eyes and jumped back, feeling the a blade whizz down where I had been standing just seconds before, and Azriel growled, wings flaring and sending out a wave of shadows that took down the row of soldiers behind him as I parried the next blow and slammed the soldier to the ground.

Whirling around, I grabbed Azriel's outstretched hand and yelled: “Do you take me,”, I ducked under his arm and blocked a blow, “to be your wife?” Azriel pulled me back, parrying the next as I stabbed my sword into another soldier's stomach. “On the good days and the bad; though,”, smoothly slicing the soldier's throat, I growled, “we might not see a lot more!”

Azriel's grip tightened, and he twirled me around, pulling me out of the way of another soldier, and my heart fluttered violently when my chest pressed into his and that golden feeling thrummed when Azriel nodded, eyes darting over my face and deep voice hoarse when he called over the rain: “I do!”

My breath hitched and heart fluttered, the feeling in my chest rising, and above us, Gwen yelled: “Then hereby, you may be bound! Bound by soul, bound by heart, bound to one!”

There was a flare of heat in the middle of my chest, and my breath hitched when Azriel's grip tightened like he felt it too; the burning of a tattoo appearing on his skin, the sign of the vows made visible in ink.

Gwyn's voice echoed through the skies when she yelled: “You now may –“

Movement at the corner of my eye made Azriel and me dart apart.

“You now –“

I dodged a blow, Azriel's hand closing around mine and spinning me around to parry another as his sword clashed with a third.

“You may kiss the –“

Thunder struck, I ducked under a beast's claw, then Gwyn shouted in frustration: “Godsdamnit, just kiss her!”

My heart surged and skipped; Azriel pulled me around, and his arm wrapped around my waist as mine slipped over his shoulder, I could feel him dipping me back lightly as he leaned down, then he kissed me.

Kissed me as rain poured down our faces, my free hand slipping up to cradle the side of his neck and my breath hitching as I kissed back, deep and desperate, and a hoarse sound rumbled in Azriel's throat as he tightened his grip around me, kissing me like it was the first and last time.

The sound of a horn ripped me back into reality, reminding me that the world was close to ending.

Azriel pulled me back up onto my feet, breaking the kiss, and I was thankful that he was just as out of breath as I was, could feel his heart pounding just as quickly. Then he raised his head, and when I looked over my shoulder, my heart skipped high as relief so kneebuckling washed over me, I was glad Az was still holding me.

The cavalry had arrived.

“Come on, you two!”, Gwyn yelled somewhere above us, sounding gleeful. “Let's finish this!”

I raised my head, and Azriel's arm slipped away from my waist, amber eyes finding mine. For a second, I could see something flash through his gaze, like he expected me to pull back, suddenly regret this.

But I just sent him a wide, wicked smile.

“Shall we?”

It was still raining, but the storm had moved on. In the west, the clouds were breaking up, allowing the light of the sinking sun to flood over the lowlands, making the light rain shimmer as a rainbow spanned across the sky.

Breathing in deeply, I tipped my head back and closed my eyes as I felt the rain drizzle onto my face and body, washing away the smell of blood from the air and only leaving the scent of wet grass and moss to fill my nose with every slow inhale.

Feyre's arrival with the reinforcements had turned the tide, every last warrior gathering all their remaining strength. Still, there had been many losses, even after our victory, and wandering through the bloody mud, paying respect to the fallen, had caused a weight to rest on my chest, one that could not even be brushed away by the knowledge that my friends, my family was alive; exhausted and strained and with quite a few scratches, but alive.

Which was why I was standing on a hill, a little away from the tents, just listening to the patter of rain and breathing in the clean air as I felt the tension slowly melt from my muscles, leaving only exhaustion and heaviness in my limbs and a feeling of being so tired, I could have fallen asleep on the spot.

I felt him before I heard the call of my name, the feeling in my chest that had shrunk to a small, warm hum pulsing and growing.

Tipping my head back down, I looked over my shoulder, and my breath hitched when Azriel came towards me.

Just like me, he was still in his armor, specks of mud and blood on his cheeks, hair damp and curling like he had attempted to dry it and then got distracted. His dark brows were drawn together as his golden eyes pierced into mine.

“What are you doing?”, he called, his low, deep voice sending pleasant shivers down my spine.

He looked so close to his usual scowl, I felt my heart rise and skip as my lips curved up.

“Cleansing,”, I called back, and Azriel huffed, but it almost looked like he was fighting to keep his lips from twitching as he crossed the last bit of distance.

Turning around, I squinted up at him through the drizzle of rain, the thrumming thing in my chest soaring at the sight of him.

Godsdamned beautiful.

Up close, I could see the signs of exhaustion. His shadows were lazily swirling around his feet, his wings were drooping so much they almost grazed the ground, and his eyes were tired. But something sparked in them when they moved over my face, my heart skipping when I could feel his warm breath brush over my forehead.

“You know we have this ingenius invention for that? It's called a shower.” His voice was so dry, my heart skipped, and a smile slowly spread over my face, wide and bright and freeing in a way that caused something to stagger in my chest.

Azriel´s eyes narrowed in, and his shoulders seemed to sag a little.

“I know.” Squinting up at him, I felt my smile grow smaller as I shrugged softly, something tightening gently in my chest.

Azriel's gaze flickered over my face. Then he blinked, and my heart fluttered into my throat when he reached out, gently pushing a wet strand of hair out of my face. His fingers, out of his gloves, brushed over my skin, warm and rough, and my breath hitched, a shudder running over my spine.

One corner of Azriel's lips curved, and that thing in my chest pulsed and thrummed at the way his golden eyes started to shine.

The shadowsinger dipped his head, and my heart skipped and jumped when his lips brushed over mine. Then his thumb and forefinger gently closed around my chin, and Azriel tilted my head back to kiss me, deep and slow until I sank into his chest, my knees simply too tired to keep up with the way all of him made the world spin. My fingers curled into his sides, and Azriel´s other hand rose to move to the back of my neck, gently tangling in my hair, and his thumb brushed over my skin until a soft sound broke from the back of my throat and my whole body shuddered.

Azriel's lips curved up against mine. Then he slowly pulled back, and my heart skipped when I saw his eyes, lids heavy and iris hazed over, the only thing betraying him; showing that I had more than the same effect on him that he had on me.

The thought made something rise and flutter in my stomach.

I blinked. Then I furrowed my brows and mumbled: “Crap.”

Azriel's gaze cleared a little, brows drawing together, and his hand slipped down to rest against the side of my neck. “What?”

I stared past him into nothing.

“I just realised we have to explain to Rhys and Cass that we got married without them.”

#azriel #az #azriel x reader #azriel x female!reader #azriel imagine #azriel/reader #az x reader #az imagine #az/reader #acotar x reader #acotar #acomaf #acowar #lalacliffthorne

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msbigredmachine · 3 months

Text

Checkmate - A Roman Reigns One-Shot

The new Smackdown GM reminds the Tribal Chief who’s boss, in more ways than one. The aftermath of the highly entertaining WrestleMania 40 Press Conference.

Pairing: Roman Reigns/OC

Word Count: 5.9k

Warning: Smut

Click here if you want to be on my tag list. If I’ve forgotten anyone please let me know so I can add you.

-----

Answer your fuckin phone.

She's been expecting his text message, to add to the half-dozen missed calls he's already deluged her phone with. His WrestleMania plans were thrown into disarray tonight and for some reason he thinks she has something to do with it.

Too bad she doesn't give a fuck what he thinks.

I'm calling you one more time. You better pick up.

So bossy. Always has been. But he knows damn well who the boss really is. When her phone springs to life again with his beautiful face snarling at her through the screen, she rolls onto her back with a heavy sigh, smooths down her oversized t-shirt and presses the green button, waiting to hear his deep voice on the other end of the line.

"What the fuck, Joy!"

Damn. Even when he's pissed, he sounds sexy as hell; it's the same menacing timbre he adopts when he's folding her up and turning her out. The memory makes her hot between her thighs.

"Reigns." Her voice is calm and steady despite the thumps of her heart, calling out to him even when she doesn't want it to.

"Why was Cody there tonight? Hmm?" he demands, his temper simmering beneath his words. "I coulda sworn he agreed to step aside for Dwayne. Why he change his mind? Did you have something to do with it? What'chu say to him, huh?"

She extends her left hand to inspect her ombre-colored acrylic nails. "Calm your tits. I don't control Cody's actions, I'm Smackdown's GM, not Raw's. He won the Rumble and he has the right to choose who he wants."

"Don't patronize me, Joy! Rock and I were a done deal!"

"You sound tense, Reigns. Paranoid, even," she smirks, "Worried you can't beat the American Nightmare a second time? Besides, you heard the fans...they wanna see you and him-"

"Bullshit!" he cuts her off. "This wasn't about no fans. You wanted this and I know why. You saw the pictures of me and Venita over Christmas and you been in your feelings ever since."

It's a predictable, childish response, and though there's some truth to it, she dismisses its immature delivery. "What you do with your bitch is your business. You are marrying her, after all," she says coolly, hearing him bristle at the other end.

"See? We ain't had a civil conversation since those photos got out. I know exactly how you feel about her, so tell me I'm lying."

"Don't ever question my ability to separate business from pleasure. You are walking proof of that," Joy warns him. "My problem is with you questioning my authority, with your silly little threats and your temper tantrums. You did it leading up to the Rumble and I'll be damned if I let it happen again. In case you forgot, I run Smackdown now. You work for me. The Mania match is scheduled, so your ass better show up in Philly, you understand me?"

A long, tense moment crawls by.

"Are you done?" he says, sounding bored.

"No. Whatchu gon' do about it?" Joy challenges.

"You looked hot as fuck in that dress tonight."

She rolls her eyes. Of course he deflects. But it's not going to work this time. She wants him to feel as frustrated as she has been over the last couple of months. "Ain't your fiancée over there with you?" she retorts, her tone clipped and snarky.

"She's in the Hamptons. And even if she was here, that ain't never stopped us anyways," he calls her out.

"Whatever." As flippant as she's tried to be about it, she is growing tired of the same old song and dance between her and Roman. She's allowed him to juggle her and Venita, and she blames herself for not leaving him alone when he chose to stay with her. Perfect, pretty little naive Venita. The IG influencer extraordinaire whose only two cares in life are her follower count and the picture-perfect aesthetics of the 'Roman & Venita' brand.

Whatever helps her sleep at night, I guess.

Joy had wondered just how perfect they really were the first time she saw the couple backstage in the Thunderdome, with Venita looking bored as hell the entire time she was there. It was clear that she had no interest in Roman's world, and Joy told him just that. Certain she would be fired on her first day for opening her big mouth, he had merely laughed and agreed, and it was then she found out she was his producer for the upcoming Bloodline saga. Onscreen, they created magic with the now legendary Tribal Chief storyline, but the magic they soon began making behind the scenes and between the sheets was even better and way too hot for TV.

She's never had time to be ashamed of inserting herself in someone else's relationship, mainly because her career has accelerated to the top of WWE's creative hierarchy. Plus, she's not about to give up such great sex, not with a stroke game that superb and a libido as high as her ambitions. Sometimes she wishes she doesn't have to share him, but she accepts that she can't have it all. After all, she already lords over the A-show as Smackdown's General Manager, meaning she is virtually unstoppable now, with money, power, and most importantly, the balls of the biggest star in the industry in the palm of her hand. Literally.

But he's pissing her off right now.

"Look, I want us to talk. Come see me." He's turned on the charm but Joy refuses to fall for it.

"What I want is an apology for your constant disrespect ever since I became GM," she replies, "I told you; I don't give a damn that we're fucking. Do not make an enemy out of me, Roman."

The Tribal Chief sighs heavily. "Look. You're right. Let me make it up to you. Come to my room so we can talk things out."

"No. You just want pussy."

"That too," he snickers.

Joy bites her lip as she idly circles her middle and ring finger over her pussy lips. She had no prior plans to touch herself, but listening to his deep, haughty voice has sparked a throbbing between her thighs that needs urgent attention. "Right. Well, I don't feel like leaving my room. This bed is way too comfy," she emphasizes.

"Mine is comfier. Are you alone?" he asks.

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"Woman, you better not be givin' my pussy to nobody else," he growls, making her laugh.

"You're hilarious. My pussy is mine and mine alone, no matter how good you beat it and eat it," she reminds him, her smile widening as she hears him taking deep breaths, trying to compose himself.

"I see that you get off on testing my patience. Does that turn you on, baby girl? Hmm? Does it make that pussy wet? I bet you wet right now." His voice drops an entire octave at that last part, and she bites her lip to keep from moaning when her slick honey pools around her fingers.

"I might be," she gasps.

"Then bring your ass over here and let me take care of it."

Joy huffs, determined to resist him for as long as she can. "I can take care of myself, Reigns. Matter of fact, I'm doing just that as we speak..."

"Aww, babe, don't be touchin' on my pussy without me," he grumbles. His frustration makes her grin in triumph. She holds all the cards and she's enjoying listening to him squirm.

"I wanna see you, beautiful. We ain't been together in so long. I miss you," Roman continues.

"Is that right?"

"Uh huh. Don't you miss me, Joy? Don't you miss this dick? It definitely misses you. Listen..."

The slippery, sticky sound that follows his words is unmistakable, and her heart pounds in her chest at his soft groan. The image of him lying in his bed, probably naked, jerking off to her, makes her stomach flip and her pussy spasm beneath her fingers. The tension crackles over the phone, simmering with the same intensity as though he were right there in person.

"Hear that, baby? That's how bad I need you. Come over." His silky-smooth whisper finally loosens the last thread of control she has held onto tightly up to this point. She knows that ultimately, she won't deny him...she never does because she can't, and he knows that.

"Gimme ten minutes," she relents.

"Make it five."

"I said, ten. Text me your room number." Cutting the call before he can respond, she leaves her bed and searches for a couple of accessories to wear. After a quick check in the mirror, she picks up her phone and sees he's already sent her his room number. The thought of what is about to transpire hastens her flight out of the room, the dead of night no match for her rapidly burning need for him. She has since accepted that she will always need him, too.

His door swings open seconds after she knocks, and a surprised yelp escapes her when he yanks her inside and tugs her flush against him. He is barefoot, in gray sweatpants slung low on his hips, and shirtless to show off the majesty of his massive, inked chest. Joy meets his loaded stare head-on as he drinks in her own appearance. She is in one of his old Nike hoodies that she swiped from him and never gave back, with the open zipper in the middle showing the swell of her breasts underneath. Long pastel-pink stockings run up to her brown thighs with gray Crocs on her feet. As his eyes crawl hungrily up and down her frame, her body thrums with realization at just how hard he is, his sizable erection poking her lower belly. Despite their back-and-forth, it's no mistake that she intoxicates him, and that power thrills her.

"Like what you see, champ?" she asks, staring him down for his response.

Roman's moan is ragged as he clamps his huge paw around her throat and covers her mouth with his, and she instantly melts in his arms, her nerves alight from his touch. She is swept up in the softness of his lips, the sweetness of his taste that contrasts erotically with his aggressiveness and the eager, hungry flicking of their tongues as the kiss heats up. He feels wonderfully warm and smells incredible like he always does.

Reluctantly, his mouth retreats from hers and he tucks his face in the hollow of her neck. He nuzzles his cheek against her skin and inhales the fragrance he's missed so much, her hushed moan caressing the depths of his senses.

"You a vindictive little bitch, you know that?" he mumbles, pressing a kiss to her throat.

"Only when I wanna be," she hums, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

"You musta loved watching me lose my cool tonight," he adds, "I saw the look in your eyes on that stage when I got into it with those two bums. That shit turned you on. Your nipples were hard through your dress. And I'm sure that pussy was soaked."

Truth be told, seeing his cool calm composure collapse, with his long hair flying and cocky countenance as he talked shit to Cody and Seth, made her so wet she had to run into a restroom stall to take off her panties, forcing her to go commando for the rest of the night. She'll never admit it though; she never likes to give him the upper hand. "How do you know?" she challenges.

"Cuz I know you. I know everything about your body, sweetheart," Roman brags, "I know what you like, and I know you love testing me cuz it makes me wanna fuck the attitude outta you."

"So what are you waiting for?" She licks her glossy lips, full and pouting, goading him with her bedroom eyes. But the Tribal Chief can feel her body trembling, betraying her bravado. This time he has the upper hand and he plans to exploit it.

He pulls her hoodie over her head and his eyes immediately drop to the thin beaded belly chain adorning her slender waist, accentuating her delicious curves. Desire gleams in his brown irises at the sight of her bare breasts, the fleshy mounds popping out at him, her nipples hard and aching for his touch. "Fuck, you're sexy," he murmurs. He massages each one then leans down to lick and suck on them, his tongue and hands working together to pleasure her.

"Ooh, that feels good," she moans, placing her hair behind her ear to get a good look at him feasting on her nipples. Ever the multitasker, he grabs her white lace thong at the hem, yanking impatiently until it rips from her body. Joy bursts out laughing at his savagery. "I knew you was gon' fuck up my panties," she jokes.

"I replace 'em, don't I?" He abandons her breasts and kisses her again, this time sliding both hands down to her round backside and lifting her up to press her against the wall. The friction of their bare chests pressed together, nipples grazing, her legs wrapping around his waist and bringing them even closer, builds the desire. He grinds his throbbing hardness against the open heat between her thighs, and she gets him back by reaching inside his sweatpants and grabbing his dick, stroking the turgid flesh as it jumps in her grasp. "Mmm, baby you're so hard. Put it in me," she orders.

"Not yet," he cuts her off, his huge biceps flexing as he carries her across the lavish suite. "Come over here, you little slut. Come suck my dick in front of this great view of the Strip."

Next to the expansive window is an L-shaped sofa large enough for a good trip to Pound Town. As he takes off his pants, Joy can't stop herself from drooling at his towering form. Six foot three, bronzed Adonis with chocolate eyes, luscious hair, massive and muscled and all man, with a long, hefty cock pulsing between those powerful thighs. He looks like a demigod in all his glory, and she venerates at the altar of his beauty.

Roman settles himself at the other end of the sofa and eyes her down with a smug smirk. Tucking his hands behind his head, he spreads his legs. "Crawl to me," he commands, his smirk widening when she advances towards him on all fours. Joy is a work of art, with nicely sized titties, round hips, thick, mouth-watering thighs and ass and that fat pussy he dreams about at least once a day. Every part of her is real and silky soft to the touch. It's been years since he first tasted her, and he is still drunk off it. She is a potent drug he can't wean himself off of, and frankly, he doesn't want to. He loves Venita, but for all her prowess in bed, she does not possess a fraction of the wild thrill that encapsulates the woman before him. He wants Joy, needs her like he needs to breathe, and he always will. He will seek his fiancée's forgiveness when that day comes.

Joy slowly slithers up the length of his body, ignoring his erection for now as she straddles him and plants a long, wet kiss on his mouth, the sound of their lips meeting and parting filling the suite. Her hands caress the tight muscles of his body, having memorized all the spots that make his breath quicken and his pulse spike. He puts his hands on her hips, but she seizes them and pins them above his head without breaking stride, laughing when he moans out with frustration. She catches his tongue as it slides into her mouth, and she proceeds to suck on it, her head bobbing like she is sucking his dick. Saliva quickly gathers around their joined mouths as she feasts on only his tongue. It's the messiest, sloppiest, hottest kiss they've ever shared, and the tension is reaching fever pitch as a result.

"You want me to suck your dick like this, baby?" Joy asks. When Roman nods, she tugs his lower lip between her teeth. "Say it," she orders, her fingers digging into his wrists. Her hips are rolling too, moving in a seductive, serpentine dance that short circuits every fiber of his being. He can't move even if he wants to; his senses are pinned down to the bed along with his body. The Tribal Chief is helpless, forced to endure the sweetest agony, with the head of his dick grazing her wet slit and driving him insane. An uncharacteristic whimper deserts his lips as his blood pumps with agitation.

"Yes," he responds breathlessly.

"What's the magic word?" Joy presses. The mocking smirk gracing her pretty features should infuriate him, but it only arouses him instead.

"Please," he concedes, knowing full well that she will drag out the torture until he succumbs. With a triumphant smile and one more intoxicating kiss, she finally takes pity on him and makes the descent down his heaving body, soothing his butterscotch skin with soft kisses. As she nears his groin, his eyes squeeze shut, and he takes deep breaths to remain focused.

"You think you're in control, toying with two women's lives." Joy shakes her head. "Hell no. I'm in control, Roman. I own you. You're mine to do with however I want. And you know the best part?"

She closes her mouth over the tip of him, giving it a gentle suckle before driving home her point. "Deep down, you love that shit."

Roman merely grins. The power has shifted back in his possession and she doesn't even know it. He shows her when he strikes with lightning speed, grabbing her and twisting her around so her legs are on either side of his head. Stunned, Joy grabs his thighs to steady herself, as he's already grabbing handfuls of her ass while using his tongue to part her lower lips. Her body jerks from the warm fat wetness of his tongue lashing around her sensitive crevices, softening her up with his saliva. Heady with desire, she just lays there with his dick in her hand, too overwhelmed to do anything else but moan with pleasure.

A sudden, stinging smack on her left ass cheek jolts her back to earth.

"You gon' suck me off or what?" Roman demands impatiently before refocusing on his own task.

Regaining her senses, her mouth engulfs his length, her head bobbing with her wrist twisting around the base. She cups his balls and rolls them in her other hand, making him groan wantonly. Her mouth is warm and her pouty lips are tight around him, sliding up and down with her tongue trailing saliva along his hard flesh. He retaliates by spreading her pussy open and holding her down on him, sucking and licking her folds with rapid strokes and enjoying her sexy throaty sounds that mingle with the sloppy slurps of his mouth on her. The increased pressure on her sensitive pussy has her moaning and squirming against his face, which in turn floods his tongue with her taste. His appreciative groans while licking her in rhythm with her rolling hips sends shivers down her spine.

Mustering all the strength she possesses, Joy frees herself from his clutches and crawls back down his body, her juices smearing a slick trail along his torso as she guides his length inside her with impressive quickness. She moans out loud as he fills her, her head tipping forwards as his big palms paw at the supple flesh of her backside. Roman groans at the wetness that welcomes his dick as it disappears into the warm canal of her pussy. "Yeah, fuck me good, baby girl," he growls, slapping her ass in encouragement.

Holding onto his ankles, she rocks up and down his erection, winding her hips with each drop down to take him as deep as she can. His husky moans and his tight grip on her waist empower her. Joy seizes every chance she can to turn him into putty in her hands. Because the motherfucker never likes to relinquish control, always determined to break her down into submission; whether it's with his God-gifted tongue, or his huge hands choking her, or with that big ol' dick, fucking her against the wall of her office, bending her over the table in his locker room at TV, or making her ride him in the bowels of his private jet. It's fun taking control from him and showing him who's boss, on the job and especially outside of it.

"You love it when I ride this big dick dontcha? Got you deep in this pussy just the way you like it," she purrs haughtily, upping the ante by reaching down to grip his cock.

The Tribal Chief realizes she's on demon time to be stroking his dick while riding him. She looks so sexy on top of him, in them pretty waist beads and stockings. Her thick hips roll back lavishly, her even thicker ass presses down on his pelvis, grinding and twisting and nudging him all the way up in her creamy pussy. Damn. He loves the way she fucks him. Baby girl has mad skills and a juicy pussy, and he is glad to be the one she uses them on. "Go faster, baby. Bounce on my dick," he cajoles, massaging her ass cheeks and groaning softly when she obeys, "Uh-huh, just like that, babe, unnnh..."

She can almost see the look of pleasure on his face. She can definitely hear him as he tugs at the soft flesh of her butt, lost to the depths of her warm wetness, in the erotic sounds of their sex noises and their slapping skin filling the big room as she bounces on his dick. Another moan escapes her, her head tilting back as he angles his hips to make his dick reach that oh-so-sweet spot inside her. He smacks her ass again, earning yet another whimper from her lips as her juices trickle down his length down to his balls. Her thighs are starting to burn from her efforts, but she can't stop, not when she's so close...

"Uhhhn baby, I'm comin'," she gasps, leaning back to rest her hands on his chest as she gyrates her ass on him. Roman's breathing is as heavy as hers, his fingers digging into her hips to steer her movements. The sensations are overwhelming as her walls contract around him, her pussy moistening as she leans forward again and rides him even harder. Seconds later, a flooding orgasm bursts inside her with such power that it wracks her entire body with tremors. Through the thick fog of numbing pleasure, she hears Roman's surprised grunt as her cum leaks all over his groin area.

"Damn baby, you nuttin' all over me. I knew you been needin' this dick," he taunts her.

Truth be told, she wasn't expecting to come this hard, but fuck it always feels so good when she does. "Oh my god," her voice trembles, her hand clutching the headrest to keep from collapsing in a heap.

Roman spanks her again. "I ain't tell you to stop. Keep goin'..."

"Hol' up, you got me shakin' so much," Joy groans, her thighs still quivering. He is still deep inside her, his dick throbbing impatiently inside the warmth of her tight walls.

"If I take this shit over, you won't be able to walk in the morning, that's a promise," he threatens.

"Then quit talkin' and do that shit," she bites back, glaring at him over her shoulder.

"A'ight then." He pulls her backwards on top of him, with her back to his chest. He grabs her legs and holds her up by her knees, thrusting upwards into her, reveling in her surprised yelp that quickly dissolves into loud moans. This new position feels so good that she's whining and making noises that only seem to turn him on as he strokes in and out of her pussy from underneath, making her body react and remind her exactly why she's not leaving his trifling ass anytime soon.

"Uhnnn yes, Roman, fuck me," she whimpers over and over, her mind spiraling, her eyes rolling back. He is relentless, pulling her legs further back and pounding her faster, sparking another intense orgasm. She squirts so hard that she's left dizzy and boneless, causing her to slip off his sweat-slick body, a shivering crumpled mess. She curls up into a fetal position and gives in to the intense euphoria of her release. With a proud snicker, the Tribal Chief caresses all over her body, then rolls her onto her stomach, spreading her thighs to observe the damage he's inflicted on her pussy.

"We ain't finished," he informs her, tapping his hard, slickened dick against her soaked, puffy folds. She tenses and arches her back on instinct, anticipating his invasion. He smiles behind her, grabs her hips, and drags her limp body up and onto his hard, waiting dick. The moans they exhale together is a symphony that serenades the pair as he continues his hard, deep thrusts. With her hips in the air and her backside in his calloused palms, she is at his mercy yet again, and her vision swims at the feeling of him practically in her spine. She knows just how deep that big ass dick of his can get inside her, but it never fails to wipe her mind blank when it does.

"Oh, fuck," she mumbles into the couch, her face sinking further in it as he drills into her hard and rough. It hurts so good that it's quite literally taking her breath away. "Shit, fuck Roman, wait, wait," she pleads, reaching behind to push his thigh and forcing him to halt his movements.

"Too much?" he asks, laughing as he presses gentle kisses along her spine, feeling her body shiver from the contact. "That's what you get when your pussy is so good. You was talkin' all that shit earlier, best believe I ain't lettin' up, baby girl. Who owns who now, huh," he says, swatting her ass and starting again.

"You're a cocky asshole," she moans shakily, defiance swirling in her lust-filled gaze.

Roman's smirk is diabolical and panty-wetting. "And don't you forget it. Now shut up and take this dick."

Joy winces as his hand curves around her throat, the other clutching her lower hip as he fucks her prone body into the sofa. She clings to the cushions and her sanity with everything she has, tears filling her eyes as he pummels her with hurried, lethal thrusts, making her ass jiggle and her pussy drip some more as she's dragged dangerously close to the precipice. He pushes the arch out of her back and flips her around, sliding right back inside before she can regain her bearings and dropping his body weight on her. His intoxicating cologne surrounds her as their mouths crush together in a hungry, toe-curling kiss. Incoherent moans leave them both as he rolls his hips against hers, nestling his dick right there, eking a sob out of her as she falls apart again.

"Aww, f-f-fuuuck..."

"I know baby, I know it feels so good," He kisses away her tears and then her cheek, his fingers curling over her breast in a light squeeze which in turn squeezes her walls around his pounding thrusts. "Mmm, this pussy so tight and wet. Keep comin' for me, baby, gimme all that nut."

His sultry command sends another wave of pleasure crashing into her like one of his trademark Spears, and her jaw drops from the force of her orgasm, her pussy clenching painfully around his dick. Her pitiful moans that she struggles to muffle against his tattooed shoulder are music to the Tribal Chief's ears as his own body is moments away from the same fate.

"Shit," he groans gruffly, shuddering breaths tearing from his lungs as his balls tighten and his strokes become sloppier, heavier, "Fuck, I'm boutta buss..."

Joy lifts her left leg up and rests it on his shoulder, digging her other heel in his lower back to pull him in deeper and finally take him down. She runs her hands all over his sides, his back, his ass, her moans mingling with his as his hips snap harder and faster. Their foreheads touch, and a devilish smile forms on her face at the helplessness in his glazed eyes, licking his lips in between throaty gasps of pleasure. She has him right where she wants him. "There you go baby, pound that fuckin' pussy, fill it up," she coaxes.

"Unhhh, shit," Roman's whines disintegrate into a whimpering cry as his big body trembles viscerally against her own. Joy's toes curl as he lodges his dick all the way inside her, making her feel each throbbing spurt of his warm seed spilling generously in her pussy. She never minds him coming inside her; her IUD is always in place, mainly for his benefit and hers. His deep, sexy grunts as he rides out his nut with stuttered ruts of his hips wash over her, leaving her breathless and weak-kneed for him.

Kissing her leg and letting it down, Roman finally pulls his dick out with a hiss and strokes out the rest of his cum onto her softened, battered pussy lips. Joy stares dazedly at the ceiling, her body humming from the last vestiges of her orgasm and a touch of pain. She feels his big arms slide around her waist and draw her in so their lips meet, savoring their collective taste with their tongues as they bask in the afterglow. He takes her arms and winds them around his neck before picking her up, transferring her from the sofa to the king-sized bed a couple of feet away. He lays her carefully on the bed and sits at the edge, watching her snuggle against the soft sheets and pillows with a satisfied sigh. The outdoor lights peeking through the window cast a glittery shadow over her nude body, making her look even more beautiful. And speaking of beautiful...

"I got you something," he announces, taking a small gift box labeled Van Cleef & Arpels sat on the nightstand and handing it to her.

"What's this?" she questions, slowly sitting up.

"Just a lil' sumn I thought you'd like," he simply shrugs. "Open it."

Eyeing him suspiciously, she unties the ribbon at the top of the box and removes the lid. Nestled in navy-blue velvet are an eighteen-carat yellow-gold Alhambra bracelet and matching earrings. She wishes she disliked the warmth that blooms inside her at the sweet gesture. She meets his eyes, noting his cocked eyebrow and cocky smirk as he gauges her reaction.

"This a good enough apology for you?" he asks.

Joy smiles gratefully and kisses his lips. "They're beautiful. But I keep telling you, you don't have to buy me anything," she says.

"Well, I want to. Sue me." He goes quiet for a few seconds, contemplating his next words. "You got tickets to the SuperBowl, right? Let's go together. We can hang out in my skybox."

"And have people talk about us? We got reputations to uphold. And what about Venita?"

"She'll be there. She's still clueless about us. And I told you, ain't nobody gon' say shit. Between your lawyer and mine, all them NDAs are water-tight." When he speaks again, his voice is much softer. "I just miss spending time with you. I miss when we weren't at each other's throats like we are these days."

"That's only cuz you make my job harder, Reigns," she points out, scooting over when he rolls into the bed and sits up against the headboard next to her.

"And you, mine. But despite all of that, I would do anything for you. You know that, right? That's why I agreed to that damn match. For you," he adds, biting his lip as he caresses her chin and gazes tenderly at her. Joy feels her heart flutter as his chocolate-colored eyes gleam with that familiar, intense passion that the two of them have been sharing for almost four years now...

"You're so cute when you get all soft and sweet on me, champ," she smiles, leaning in for another kiss that lingers pleasantly this time. It's little moments like these that try to con her, even to this day, that their affair has veered towards the romantic side. She thanks the cynical businesswoman in her for swiftly kicking that childish notion to the curb every time the delusion attempts to rear its ugly head.

Their embrace is interrupted by the grating sound of his phone vibrating, forcing him to pull away from her with a tired sigh. On the nightstand, a text message with Venita's name lights up his phone screen.

Countin the minutes till I touch down in Vegas 🥺😍 Can't wait to see you again! Love you Baby Boo 😘

"Aww, poor baby," Joy's giggle is dark and mocking as she looks over Roman's shoulder. Snatching the phone out of his hand, she opens up the message and begins typing.

"Don't start no shit, now," he sighs, but makes no move to stop whatever havoc she's causing through his device.

"Relax, Baby Boo," she teases, pressing Send and holding his phone up to his face to show him her response.

I'm waiting for you babe. Can't wait to see you 😍 Love you sm.

"See? I was nice," she says, putting away his phone and climbing on top of his big body.

Roman rolls his eyes and runs his hands along her thighs. "I guess I should thank you, then?"

"Oh, no need to thank me. I'm just being a good, caring boss," she replies, bending to kiss his lips, trailing her tongue along his bearded jawline and tasting her dried juices. "You're my star employee, so it's important that I always give you what you need. And I always give it to you, don't I?"

Roman groans into her mouth as she kisses him harder, her dainty fingers stroking his dick which immediately pulses in her grasp as though it hasn't been touched all day. "Yeah, you do," he rasps, his body heating up as she starts to descend on him. "Oh shit, baby, you feelin' generous tonight..."

"Mmm, more like selfish..." She sits all the way down with a gasp, making both their hearts race with each twitch of his cock inside her. "Cuz I want that dick again, and I'm taking it..."

She is already moving, hunched over him, her titties in his face, sucking them both back into that sensual place of pleasure they like to visit together. He answers to her, in more ways than one, and he won't have it any other way. "Anything you want, boss. Anything you want," the Tribal Chief croaks out, allowing himself to sit back and enjoy the ride, quite literally.

THE END

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

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blueparadis · 7 months

Text

╰┈➤ ATLAS✦ DILUC RAGNVINDR.

⟣ ──┈ · · · + synopsis ➢ Wearing a bunny outfit was indeed a good idea to attract customers but little did you know, it would attract the attention of the owner of Dawn Winery.

⟣ ──┈ · · · + cw ➣ bar tender!fem!reader x diluc rangnvindr, explicit smut, piv sex, semi-public, unprotected, cunnilingus, s/d dynamics, soft-dom!diluc, mentioned aftercare. 1,4k word count. | blog navigation + koct’23 masterlist. |

“What a pleasant surprise is this” The familiar deep voice puts a cease to your merry humming. You turn around facing none other than the owner of Dawn Winery, Diluc Raghvinder, your master. Has he been waiting here? Alone? In the dark?

You try to brush him off by stacking the bottles from the crate one by one, carefully and slowly so as not to break any of them. “I had to get more customers somehow,” your tart reply makes him walk towards the door and press the knob to close it. He is standing right beside the door. If you were to go out of the wine cellar, you have to solely depend on your luck and so far it has not been shining on you lately.

“I’m not done talking,” He scoops you against his body as his voice echoes in the room.

“Well, it can wait, can't it, master Diluc? The bar is overflowing with customers by Archon’s grace and I need to be on my way to serve them.”You struggle in his grasp as you speak, trying to get out of his arms that caged you the more you tried to retaliate against his touches. This is not the first time he has been sneaky, actually, he has a history. You have gotten used to it somehow. You would have let him turn the wheel like he usually does but not right now.

“Wait. Wait.” With a low husky voice, a huff in between he speaks again. This time softer, “I— I’m sorry, alright? I shouldn't have snapped at you the other day, when I said you weren't doing your job right enough.” His breath fanned against your ears as he slid his nose all over your upper chest, at the exposed area, and having his arms locked around your stomach was not helping either.

“Let me go—I've got work to do.” You still protect, try to deflect his soft, slow, and steady touches. It always starts like this but ends up with him sinking his teeth onto your skin, marking you his, reminding you of him wherever you try to go, however far you try to run.

“Don’t,” Diluc muttered, undoing the strings of the first hook. You could feel your boobs relax, chest muscles free of tension and pressure. “You have done enough,” Turning you towards him to face his body, he slipped his fingers along your inner thigh at the lining of your dress playing with it. He must add that the stockings added a great flavor to your dress, not to mention to your alluring aura and how you carried yourself around the elites, guests, regulars, and normal customers but it is a hindrance now. “You have done enough my sweet bunny.” He repeated with a honey-dewed tone before tearing the stockings, running and sliding his hands up and down your thighs. His touches are not gentle anymore. It is rough and intense.

“Wait— Sir Diluc,” You moan as his tongue travels along the column of your throat followed by his soft lips placing open-mouthed kisses. Diluc does not provide you another chance to talk, to resist rather you are lost in his crimson gaze as he pulls the string at your back undoing most of it, at least to have a good look on your nipples.

“Your nipples are hard.” He exclaims looking at them, insatiably making you push his chest but he is bigger than you, stronger than you. Even if your hands are mobile and free, there is nothing much you can do. It is adorable that you are still resisting. “Tell me bunny, did it turn you on walking around like this among those customers?” He leans towards your face whispering, “Or does the thought of making me hard during work turn you on?”

Holding both of your palms in one fistful grab he arches his hips against your waist letting you feel his boner. If his hungry gaze did not make you wet while you were serving drinks at the bar, feeling his hard-on sure did. Diluc actually gave you time to answer yet it led to nothing but another disappointment. His patience was running out of time. You were like a rabbit in his trap and he could not just wait to devour you, have his way with you.

“Ya’know it is rude not to answer, especially your master.” He says with a brooding look on his face. His voice is steady, nothing mere of annoyance can be pointed in his way of talking either but the way he keeps his eyes on you tells everything.

“nei—neither.”

“Sorry. What was that?” Now he is just playing with his food. “Couldn't hear you properly. Come again?” He paused, looking at your hands that rested perfectly on his chest. “Or I should just check it by myself,” Before those words could register in your brain, he swiftly turned you around, pushing you onto the table.

“Wai-wai-wait-wait” you blabber but it is too late. You could feel his hands over your ass cheeks, caressing roughly and now your red bunny outfit was in tatters. Your face laid hot against the glass of the wooden table as your master crouched down. Taking a good look he exclaimed, “what a pretty little liar.”

His fingers are now teasing your wet clit, exploring and rubbing them. “What a fat pussy you have,” he says before lapping his tongue from the base to up your buttocks. An elongated groan escaped his mouth along the strain in his trousers growing more and harder to bear.

“Ahh! Sir Diluc, please . . . more.” A stifling moan finally escaped your lips. Diluc spread apart your pussy lips apart and started to suck and lick alternatively with so much zeal, as if he was given the an opportunity to taste the finest wine in Mondsndat.

The squelching and sucking noises were getting louder and louder while your body was slowly giving in, submitting to his urges. Your mind might be heavy on how unethical it is to have a physical relationship with your boss, but there is no way your body can deny him now. He has become your need, your saviour.

“Sir Diluc . . . Sir . . .Diluc. . . Diluc.”

There was no response other than the wet noises that Diluc elucidated with his mouth at service. But seeing you all fidgeting and restless, your arms stretching to reach your clit, legs quivering and growing apart further he finally stood up. Unzipping his pants, springing free his cock out his trousers he grabbed your hips.

“I’m putting it in,” He said but rather delayed it by smearing the cockhead with your juices. A jolt full of shivers ran through your nerves, skin coating with goosebumps before he pushed his cock to the tip in one full strong stroke. He was not joking when he warned you. Another prolonged groan before Diluc started to snap his hips against yours — deep and rough, calculated and hard; each stroke hit your sweet spot with so much precision that you had to cover your mouth from moaning loudly.

With your shame coagulated at the core of your throat, Diluc rasped, “This is my house. My property.”He hovered above you, kissing your shoulders, and said, “Tell me, darling, who exactly do you fear ?” And a harsh slap landed on your ass eliciting a shrill moan from you. His strokes are getting more erratic now. “Keep those pretty moans coming. Think you can do that for me?” he coaxed as he pulled you up holding you against his body, close to his chest.

“Yes. ’course. Sir Diluc.” You reply with vision blurred, the red bunny outfit layered at your belly button and the bottom part was in ruins. Diluc could not help but be impressed at your obedience. “Good Girl.” he praises “My good girl.” As he grabs your tits before hammering his cock into your hole again, panting and moaning; singing along with you in the same melody.

Your nostrils could no longer smell the sweet aroma of the wines, rather the smell of sweat mixed with expensive cologne hit your nostrils. With a few longer and broad strokes he cums, and finishes inside you. His hands let go of the harsh hold on to your body but clasp around you with his cock still inside you, as both of you come down from high.

You finally reciprocate his touches as you hold his palms, and interlace your fingers with his. As you kiss his hand, he murmurs, “Didn't know scolding you would make you wear a bunny outfit.”

You tilted your face to see him. With a smirk you reply,“didn’t know wearing red would do the trick.” with a wink.

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cordyce · 1 year

Text

BY YOUR HANDS ALONE

neteyam sully x gn!reader

notes: this is silly & overtly fluffy & all over the place if i am completely honest rn. neteyam is a little flustered & probably ooc. sorry :’)

"there you are."

"here i am," you mirror back instantly, hardly sparing a glance up at the far too familiar voice as your fingers continue to work at chopping up some vegetables. it's a busy day—a momentous day. there is no time to waste.

"let me help," neteyam offers, already making moves to steal your knife from you as he steps to your side.

but you weave it away from his grasp, nudge him back with your shoulder and point the knife at him as you address him. "aht, don't think so," you differ, then continue your slicing. "besides, don't you have your own tasks to get to, mr. mighty warrior?"

days like this require a lot of preparation; everyone chipping in and doing their part so that it all gets done and runs smoothly. if even one person slacks off, it could cause a rift in sanctified plans. and that simply wouldn’t do. no, it would not.

"i have completed all of them, actually," he retorts, but he shrivels when you narrow your eyes up at him. "okay, almost all of them."

you scoff, let your pupils meet your sockets with a roll as you pry the truth out of him. of course, one of the most important days of the year and it is now that neteyam chooses to have an irresponsible whim. you aren’t sure what you’re gonna do with him.

"your mother will have your tail if she finds one thing out of place for tonight, you know this." it isn't necessarily a warning, but there is some tip-off in your tone. "you must get everything done."

neteyam hums, leans his hip against the raised wood that you are using as a makeshift counter. he says nothing, simply watches you. takes into account how you dice up the vegetables in front of you diligently before sliding them to the side with your knife and moving onto the next ones. his stare is driving you crazy—no one works well under pressure, after all.

it causes you to have a slight blunder; a misstep. you cut a pattern a tad too fast and send a slice of root tumbling towards the ground. neteyam's instincts are superb, quick, and he catches it before it hits the dirt. mumbling a thank you under your breath as he places it back on the tray, you find the heir before you still not making a move to speak.

you aren't sure why it unnerves you so.

"what do you have left to complete?" it's not the question you want to ask, but 'what the hell do you keep staring at?' doesn't sound quite as nice. so you settle on it.

you take a pause, a breath, to turn to him. throughout the years you have seen the eldest sully child wear many expressions. ones tainted by smiles, irritation, pride, devotion—but this one has you tipping your head in the most peculiar way.

because timidness is not something you think you've ever seen don the strong features of neteyam sully.

he carries himself with such an air of confidence; shoulders pressed back and chin held high—not arrogant, but undaunted. he does not shift gaze unless he is avoiding scoldings and he does not suck in his cheek unless he is fighting frustration. so, you wonder, what could possibly have his face contorted in such a reticent manner. if you did not know any better, you’d almost call his demeanor a rendition of shy. but that seems rather uncharacteristic of him, doesn’t it?

"ah—are you sure you don't need help with that?" he's deflecting, brushing off your inquiry like he hasn't heard it. and you can't decide whether you find that amusing or concerning.

he's making way for your knife again and you twist your arm to hold it out of his reach behind you. you eye him carefully, flit your gaze all around him to pick up on anything that you can that would explain his behavior.

"tell me." it's not an order, you aren't demanding, but neteyam nods his head like he's respondent of such.

"my father told me i needed a, uhm," he stutters, licks his lips, like he's tripping over his own tongue. and it's undeniable the way you see his ears twitch. "for the celebration tonight. i need a.."

"a what, neteyam?" you press, cock your brow up at him. you don't think you've ever seen him like this. never witnessed him so.. "you need a what?"

"a.. date."

so fidgety.

"a date?" you repeat with widening eyes.

"no, no not a—not a date really but i need someone for the—“

"the staining ceremony.” you finish for him, continue his sentence because with all his blubbering you aren’t sure he’ll ever spit it out.

he nods curtly.

the celebration tonight is for all the young warriors who have proved themselves throughout the calendar year as being strong willed and great protectors of the clan. neteyam, of course, is one of them. has been since he earned the right to be titled as such. so perhaps it should have clicked in your head that he’d be searching for a partner for the staining ceremony portion of the night.

but a part of you—if you’re being completely honest with yourself—just figured he had one already. events like this take weeks of planning; most warriors find their artisan a fortnight in advance. because it cannot just be anyone.

the partner one chooses for the staining ceremony must be someone with whom they feel a connection. some of the older warriors choose their mates. some of the youngest choose their mother or father. some settle for siblings. others, in brazen acts of outstretched hands, choose a mate unbonded; one who they harbor feelings for but have yet to seal such in the eyes of Eywa.

you cannot lie and say you had not pondered over who neteyam’s choice would be. a part of you thought he would pick kiri—they have always been so close and she has been his partner for such ceremony before. but, you are not deaf to the murmurs of your village, you are not ignorant of what has been passed from mouth to ear of all that will listen. there have been other… prospects who have been suggested to neteyam for this special commemoration.

your name has not been among them.

“well,” you continue, tear your eyes away from him and get back to the task at hand. there is no need to dwell on such things and fall behind. you have just one more batch of greens after this to prepare then you will be done and can walk away from all this. “if you’re here to ask my opinion on who your choice should be, i’m not sure i will prove to be much help.”

a shut down; a cut off. you’d like this conversation to be over as soon as possible because it’s making your fingers itch. you’re offering him a gateway to close the topic off.

but he doesn’t seem to get the memo.

“no,” he chuckles, now, and you can tell he’s shaking his head out of the corner of your eye. it’s breathy; like he’s punched it out of his chest and finally broken past the barrier of whatever flusteredness had him trapped before. “that’s not why i came to find you.”

“if it’s to convince kiri to sacrifice herself to do it for you again this year, i’m not game for that either.” you don’t understand why his laughter leaves you agitated, why this whole situation has caused an odd twisting in your gut.

“that won’t be necessary,” he disputes, “i do not need kiri to be my partner this year.”

your fingers fumble, your slicing stutters. “oh?” and you want to kick yourself for how your voice hitches. you clear your throat, bite the corner of your lip that neteyam can’t see. “convince some other poor soul to do it for you? is it zuy’nik? i know she presented you a kill from her hunt recently.”

neteyam hums. “no. i have not chosen zuy’nik.”

you grip your knife harder, focus carefully on the blade as you chop down on a bundle of leaves. your throat is dry, your heart is thundering. you feel silly.

“sënuul, then?” you question, do your best to sound as disinterested as possible even though your chest is burning to know who could be lucky enough to have been picked by the heir himself. “i hear many young warriors wish for her. they say she has delicate hands.”

your hands—in contrast—have grown tense; your chops near erratic. being this worked up over a man who is not your mate seems so futile, so nonsensical. if your mother were here to see you now she’d call you childish.

but is it so childish to want things your heart yearns for?

“while that may be true,” neteyam agrees with the sentiment, and that makes your stomach lurch, “it is not sënuul either.”

“then who is it? who could you possibly—“

a hand covering yours has you cutting yourself off. neteyam’s palm melds over your knuckles; stops your unsafe cutting and stills your wrist’s movements. before you can even bring yourself to look at him, calloused fingers are hooking around your chin. swiveling your head around, you have no choice but to meet his gaze. and it is not averting, not twinkling with tepidness like it was before. you think, for a moment, that’s because he’s passed the feeling onto you.

“i do not wish for any other partner in this clan.” and his voice does not waver, does not stumble, now. you swallow as you listen. “i came here to ask if you would do me the honors, for tonight.”

your tongue feels like cotton; the fuzz of it floating to your brain to make everything go static. this is.. not what you had expected.

you had expected to follow neytiri’s orders for preparing the food for the meals that would be shared. you had expected to dress yourself in the ceremonial clothing and jewelry you keep for these special occasions. you had expected to stand around the edges of the circle during the opening dance, serve food to the elders, and sit with a content tight smile as you watched kiri declare neteyam’s war paint for the third year in a row before the true celebration began.

you had not expected yourself to be standing face to face with neteyam, ears twitching embarrassingly sporadic, as he asks you to join him in one of the most intimate and important events of a warrior’s life.

and you suppose you can use that element of surprise as the reason why you find yourself a tad bit speechless while you nod dumbly. a wide grin cracks across his face, curves up his cheeks as he lets out another breathy laugh.

“thank you,” he murmurs, and he still hasn’t let go of your chin. “i was worried i would not get the chance to ask you in time. i was pushing it, but i tried to get all my other duties done as fast as i could.”

now that, the mention of time, finally knocks you out of your little lovesick trance.

“hey, wait,” you huff, shove at his chest lightly with your free hand. “you should have asked me sooner! i should have already had your stain pattern planned out, and—and now i have to go get all of your paints and i didn’t factor in the time for that. you’re terrible!”

“ah, i’m not terrible. i am sure you can just wing it,” he waves off, simpers like this is funny.

“wing it?” you gape at him. because he genuinely cannot be serious. “this will be your war paint pattern for the rest of the year. if it’s bad then you will be stuck with it. you want me just to wing that?!”

“why not? i have faith in you, i’ve put myself into your hands.” and it’s meant to playful, you know this, but the way he’s looking at you proves his words hold their full weight regardless. “don’t be mad at me.”

“oh, i’m mad,” you retort, brush him away as you get back to slicing because now you really do not have the time for distractions. “i cannot believe you have waited until last minute.”

“would you like me to ask someone else?” he queries, and you whip your head over to level him with a glare. “i mean, i am sure sënuul would be honored to be the partner of the future olo’eyktan.”

“you know, i liked you better when you were sputtering and nervous,” you spit back, retract your attention once again. “terrible. truly terrible.”

“ah, do not be mad at me,” he levels again, “what can i do to have you forgive me?”

“nothing. you will never be forgiven.” with no hesitation, but also no malice. your bite holds no venom, and your cheeks are still warm. such hypocrisy you spew.

“nothing?” he questions, and you don’t even have to see his face to know he is smiling. there he is again; the neteyam who holds his chin up high and taunts his brother into mindless games to prove his worth. you admire this neteyam; love this neteyam.

this neteyam grabs your face and tugs you forward before you can think of another mindless rebuttal to spout.

the kiss is light but fervent, and if you were a poetic person you might just say that his lips taste like future promises you already intend to keep. the fight drains from your body and you find no urge to bring it back. this neteyam seems to know how to quell you, how to dispel your frustration and wipe away your grievances like fogged up glass. so easy, so effortlessly.

he pulls away languidly, breath puffing against your lips. "forgive me?" he asks again, and you find yourself nodding before he even finishes the question.

he turns your head to peck your cheek then drops his hands to finally successfully steal the knife still held in yours. you tip your head, blinking through the daze to inquire what he's doing.

"i can finish that, you know."

"i know," he answers, then flashes you a crooked grin that has your stomach twisting in a way far different than before. "but don't you think you should start planning how you want to trail your hands over me?"

and, oh. part of you wants to hit him for that. but part of you wants to tug him in by the neckpiece he dons and get him to shut up by an alternative method.

as you reach forward to run your hand ever so heedlessly up his chest, a faux illusion of planning your mapping, you think you might just settle on the latter.

likes & reblogs appreciated !

#this is for my sweet matcha first and foremost <3 i hope u like it !#also i TOTALLY made up this entire celebration thing LMAO #i jus thought it was a cool idea and super cute sooo #also. i rlly hope u don’t think neteyam is too ooc bc he is a bit. flustered here #BUT SJDHDN AHHH ENJOY #neteyam x you #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam drabble #neteyam fluff #avatar x reader #atwow x reader #atwow fluff #avatar fluff #neteyam sully fluff

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poppy-metal · 2 years

Note

listen. i’m blowing up your inbox and im sorry but i’m a wreck. TALK TO ME AB THE EMOTIONAL I NEED YOU SEX.

eddie’s passionate, and that definitely extends to sex, but you both are so overcome with love and gratitude that you’re both there and okay, and you’re being so gentle with him he wants to cry because he loves you so much. yall figure out why they call it “making love” that night

I was made for loving you.

a/n: this is my fix it fic. my comfort. my delusion.

cw: past fwb eddie x reader. feelings. reader is bad at them. soft sex. soft dom!eddie

why does the term 'making love' warm me up on the inside? i am disgusting.

thinking of being in a fwb situation with him before you went and saved the world together. you'd always kept him at arms length, he's just a punk and you did ballet type shit. but stumbling into your big empty house, dirty and grimy and sweaty, you don't seem that far apart. from that different of worlds.

he'd almost died. you'd had that second of bone chilling fear deep in your gut when the bats had taken him down. the screams you let out had your throat still feeling raw. you hadn't let go of his hand the whole ride home. the whole time he was being attended to. you hadn't spoken much.

you're still silent now, nawing on your bottom lip as you let him use your shower. the distant sound of the water fills your room and you can't handle it anymore. the distance. the being away from him.

he jumps, predictable and dramatic, when you open your bathroom door. he's got the shower running but he'd been sitting on the closed lid of the toliet, scrubbing his hands down his face, still fully clothed.

"jesus." he says, startled. he runs a hand through his bangs, making them stick up. "ever heard of knocking? what I'd been indecent?"

you come to him, knowing he's deflecting. "seen you naked before, munson."

he looks down at his hands on his lap. bites his bottom lip. "right."

you kneel down in front of him and put your hands on his knees, looking up at him. he has such big eyes. expressive. they can't hide anything from you. right now you can tell he's still terrified.

"you almost died, eddie."

you see his throat work around a swallow. his knee under your palm starts to shake a little. bobbing up and down. "i know. yeah i-" he takes a breath. closes his eyes and then opens them again. they look wet. "i know."

you grip him a little hard. your bottom lip trembles. "i almost lost you."

he smiles then. its a crooked, half little smile if a bit wobbly. "can't get rid of me that easily, sweetheart."

you know he uses jokes like this, his sarcasm, as a defense. usually you roll your eyes at it, let it roll off your shoulders like water and maybe say something biting back, even if you don't mean it. you can't find it in you to joke right now.

"I don't want to get rid of you." you say, completely serious. "eddie, you know that right? you know that i- that you-"

he looks at you. his eyes are that intense kind of dark they get before he kisses you. when he knows you're bluffing when you say something casual. like he can see inside you so easily. like its nothing. it never fails to make you feel stripped bare. naked.

"that you what?" his voice is soft. testing. his hands cover yours on his thighs, thumbs stroking over your knuckles.

you'd kiss him now usually. to avoid the truth of your feelings. to cover up, at least metaphorically, how naked he made you feel.

you swallow and instead of covering up, you stand slowly. his eyes track the movement until he's staring up at you, wide eyes framed by pretty lashes.

"that i need you." you say, simply. and then you're raising your hands to unbutton your tattered blouse. your hands trembling.

you've undressed in front of him more times then you can count, had him undress you. this is different. this means something. this is you letting him in.

he watches you, entranced. he always looks so worshipful. before you'd always dug your nails into his back to avoid those looks, dug your heels into his ass and taunted him in some way to make him fuck you hard not gentle.

gentle was what people who felt for eachother did. gentle was making love. gentle was being in love.

when you step out of your panties you're already slick between your legs. but you ignore that for now and reach for him. you want him bare too. you want nothing between you, nothing but skin and bones and flesh and aliveness. hes alive. hes okay. hes here.

"wanna feel you." you say, almost pleadingly as you guide him to stand. he's taller than you, your nose at his shoulders. your fingers delve into his jacket, sliding it off his shoulders. "need to- need to know you're okay. is that- is that okay?"

you'd never asked something like that before. but you genuinely want to know. maybe this isn't what he needs right now.

you hear his shaky inhale and then his hands are helping you, shaking just as much as yours to divest him of his clothes. you swallow when he steps out of his jeans. his body is beautiful. a work of art. pale and lean. your hand pets through the hair trailing down his navel, marveling at how his stomach flexea under your touch.

"i need" he stops and then starts again. "i need you too. so much. you don't know how much i do."

you peer up at him and let yourself smile as your hand reaches down to lightly grip the hard flesh between his thighs. his eyes flutter when your palm envelopes his velvety cock. stroking it once. "show me?"

when he looks at you, he looks pained. "I don't know if i can pretend I'm not fucking in love with you tonight, baby. i can't- i can't just fuck you like you weren't the last thing i saw before i thought i was gonna kick it."

you feel your chest crack open. you regret so much of your past. so much time spent pushing this beautiful boy away when you should have been pulling him closer. so much closer. letting him love you.

"i don't want to pretend anymore, eddie." you lean up on your tip toes to brush your lips against his. "make love to me."

he lets out a broken sound. a whimper almost, and then he's kissing you. hard at first and then gentle. his hands cup your face. tongue flicking against yours, melting into your mouth. "let me clean you up first, yeah? think we both need to not smell like sewage."

and you do. let him. and he lets you. you step into the lukewarm shower together and its the most intimate you've ever been with eachother. wandering hands gliding over wet skin, fingers massaging shampoo into hair. you hold eachother, chest to chest for awhile under the spray, fingers dancing between his shoulder blades as his stroke down your spine.

when you step out, you don't bother with towels, both needy now. you let him guide you back to your room, to your bed, where he lowers you down onto the soft plush of your bed.

"so pretty." he says against your stomach, kissing his way down. "you've got such a beautiful body. know you don't like me spending too much time on it- but god. that's all i want to do. take my time with you. love every inch of you with my mouth."

he kisses your pubic bone and you close your eyes. "let me?"

you spread your legs in response.

his mouth between your legs is wet and slippery. your cunt is a wet and open gash between your legs, weeping its blood, your slick, into his licking mouth. he's gentle, flicking your engorged clit with the slick muscle before gently wrapping his mouth around it.

one of his hands glides up the bed and you immediately let him enterlace your fingers, gripping onto him hard as he eats you out impossibly slow. he's looking up at you as he does, and you widen your legs as far as they'll go for him, feel the lips of your sex part under the insistent pressure of his lips and tongue.

you don't look away, holding his hand as you look down at him licking between your folds, delving his tongue deep between them. your mouth drops when he pushes it against your hole, trembling when he starts to lick it inside you. deep and broad strokes.

"eddie, i-" you can't finish the sentence, overwhelmed.

he comes up, his mouth wet and red from your juices and you feel the cool metal of his guitar pick necklace glide between your breasts as he lowers himself on top of you, melding your bodies.

he sees your eyes on the necklace and his shoulders are hitching in the next moment, as he distangles it from around his neck and through the mess of his hair.

you hold your breath, tears pricking as he places it around your neck. fingering it where it rests in your clavicle. "you look good with a little me on you."

your eyes water and you don't try to push back the tears as you spread your thighs around his waist. lift your hips to aid his gentle rocking between your legs. "you've always been on me." you swallow. "in me. i-in my heart. always."

he rests his forehead against yours, both of you holding your breath as the spongy head of him prods at your entrance, gliding between the slick folds and pressing against that tiny hole. it opens for him, as always.

"fuck." he sighs as he slides in. slides home. your body welcoming his inside it easily. "you're imprinted on my f-fucking soul, honey. drove me crazy that i couldn't show it to you."

you grip his back, feeling the muscles flex with the movement of your bodies swaying on the mattress. you're meeting his thrusts, moving your body with his, toes curling at his sides where they dangle around his moving hips.

"never- never gonna push you away again." you gasp, overwhelmed. this feels so good. intense. "dont let me eddie- need you. need you so much."

he shakes his head, sweaty forhead against yours. he's pressed so close to you, you can feel the sticky sweat between your bodies making your skin slip and slide against eachother. your cunt is making wet sounds around his cock filling you over and over.

"not gonna let you." he moans against your mouth, kissing you hard. he's punching the breath out of your lungs with each thrust. "you're mine. you hear me? mine the second you locked eyes with me in homeroom, mine the minute you approached me after school behind the bleachers, mine the second you let me inside you, mine the second you stepped through that door and told me to make love to you."

"eddie." you whine and pant, gripping yourself to him tight. "eddie im gonna-"

"do it, baby." he looks between your moving bodies where his flesh is steadily meeting yours, watches his cock glide in and out. watches the shine of your need for him coat his cock when he slides out and grunts when he thrusts back home. "you cum on me you're not getting away from this, from us. the moment you wet my cock you're saying you're mine. no going back."

his lips mesh against the lobe of your ear, grinding his pelvis hard into yours. hes so fucking deep.

"so. fucking. do. it." each word punctuated with a deep thrust.

your world whites out as you cum around him, shaking and moaning and clinging onto him. its the biggest thing you've ever felt. your heart feels like it can't even contain all its feeling. Its too much.

"im yours." you cry out, soaking his cock. "im yours, im yours."

he's fucking you harder now, moving against you desperately as he chases his own pleasure. "yeah you are." he moans, his fingers looping through his necklace around your neck and pulling so your head it tugged forward until your foreheads are knocking. "about time you caught up."

when he cums, you both moan. the warm splash of it filling your milking walls. "god your pussy." he whines, "it was made for me."

you wrap your arms around him. both of you anchoring the other.

"i was made for loving you, I think."

#ask #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie spaghetti #stranger things x reader #stranger things season 4 spoilers #stranger things x you #eddie x reader

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getosbicth · 7 months

Text

got you. this is where you're weak, right?

gojo x f!reader smut (nsfw) (18+)

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2.1ᴋ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ɢᴏᴊᴏ sᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ ᴡᴀs ᴍᴀɢɴɪғɪᴄᴇɴᴛʟʏ ᴛᴇʀʀɪғʏɪɴɢ. ʏʜᴇ ᴇɴᴛɪʀᴇ ʙᴀʟᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ sʜɪғᴛᴇᴅ ɪɴ ʜɪs ғᴀᴠᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ ʜᴇ ᴡᴀs ʙᴏʀɴ. ʜᴏᴡ ᴄᴀɴ ᴀ ᴍᴀɴ sᴏ ᴄʜɪʟᴅɪsʜ ᴀɴᴅ sᴇʟғ-ᴀʙsᴏʀʙᴇᴅ ʙᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏsᴛ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀғᴜʟ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀsᴇ? ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴇᴛ ɢᴏᴊᴏ sᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ ᴡᴀs ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʏ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴇᴀʀɴᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ᴍᴇᴀɴɪɴɢ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴡᴇᴀᴋɴᴇss.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: ᴍɪɴᴏʀs ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛ, ᴇxᴘʟɪᴄɪᴛ sᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ, ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsɪɴɢ ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ, ʜᴀᴛᴇ sᴇx, ᴅᴜʙɪᴏᴜs ᴄᴏɴsᴇɴᴛ, ʀᴏᴜɢʜ sᴇx, ᴇxᴘʟɪᴄɪᴛ ᴅᴇᴘɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴏғ sᴇx

Gojo Satoru was magnificently terrifying. The entire balance of the world shifted in his favor the moment he was born. How can a man so childish and self-absorbed be the most powerful being in the universe? The day you met Gojo Satoru was the day you learned the true meaning of the word weakness.

You received intel from allied curse users that Gojo Satoru will be on a mission to exorcise a special grade curse that occupied an abandoned building on the outskirts of Tokyo. You had an inkling it might be pointless trying to fight the most powerful man in the world, but your hatred toward him was enough to cause you to make irresponsible choices.

You have seen him before, while you were a student at jujutsu tech. You'd seen him around the halls, talking to his friends, joking around like he didn't have a care in the world. It was always sickening how someone so powerful couldn't see that sorcerers were superior to those without the ability to manipulate cursed energy.

He was tall, way taller than you and way more at ease. His demeanor was disturbingly calm, he had no reason to fear you- he knew he was stronger. You knew, however, that you weren't going to go down without giving Gojo Satoru a run for his money. There was no way in hell you were going to cower in front of someone who already saw you as pathetically incompetent. You hated his confidence. You envied his power.

"Let's get this over with, shall we?" he said, standing in front of you with a sadistic smile spread across his face and his eyes sparkling with excitement. His eyes were like Arctic icebergs crashing into the infinite blue ocean, cold and merciless. He was going to kill you for your crimes and he wasn't going to think about it twice.

You grit your teeth and balled your hands up in fists, opting to attack first. It was pointless, though, because he only dodged your punches and moved behind you at a superhuman speed, suddenly pushing you to fall to the ground while you were still off balance. He stood over you as you turned onto your back and looked at him with revulsion in your eyes.

He smiled again, "You know you can't beat me, so why are you here?"

You got back to your feet, refusing to dignify him with a response.

Gojo Satoru could go to hell.

You summoned all the cursed energy you possessed and used your cursed technique to clone yourself until the room you were in was filled with replicas of you surrounding Gojo Satoru. You've never attempted to clone yourself on this scale, but the adrenaline coursing though your veins was doing wonders to aid you in using every last ounce of power you had.

"This is going to be fun," Gojo's eyes were almost glowing with glee as he stood in the center of all of your clones, attempting to decipher which one was the real you.

The clones began their attack, but to no avail, because he managed to crush each and every one by only using his hands. A flurry of punches were directed at Gojo and he managed to deflect all of them. One by one, your clones fell, until there was only a dozen left and Gojo grew tired of pretending you were making any type of progress. He focused on your real body, and suddenly he was in front of you as he smiled, wrapping his hand around your throat and pinning you against the wall.

"Got you, Y/N," he muttered in a low voice, watching you truggle as he held you pinned against the wall.

"Kill me already," you choked out, struggling to breathe with his hand wrapped around your neck. He stared at you with a strange darkness in his vibrant eyes. What was he waiting for, he could snap your neck in a blink of an a eye, why was he suddenly wasting time?

He hummed to himself, "No, I'm not going to kill you." His hand wasn't letting go of your neck no matter how hard you tugged at his wrist to let you go. "I would much rather do something else."

He pulled the hem of your shirt up to reveal your bra and breasts. You were too tired to protest as he started to fondle your breaststroke with his free hand. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" You squirmed as his hand reached under your bra to squeeze your breast. What was he doing, why was he doing this? You were a curse user, someone he should kill without mercy. And here he was- touching you. Touching you as he held you pressed against the wall, unable to escape.

"Don't worry, I won't hurt you. I don't have to hurt you when you can do nothing to hurt me," he whispered into your ear, making your head spin from the feeling of his warm breath grazing your neck. You were already feeling heat between your legs, hating yourself for succumbing to the simple pleasure of a man's touch when the man in question was Gojo Satoru. He was so good with his hands, though, way too good to resist.

"Stop," you growled at him, knowing full well you didn't want him to, but there was no chance you'd give him the satisfaction of having put you into submission.

He just hummed and grabbed your chin to turn your head to the side, gaining access to your neck. Your legs nearly gave out as he placed soft kisses on your neck, leaving small lovebites on your skin and breathing right next to your ear. The sound of his heavy breaths was enough to drive you insane. It was so warm but it gave you goosebumps all over your body.

While he was kissing your neck, his fingers moved from your breast down the side of your chest and under the waistband of your pants. He didn't waste any time touching you where you were burning with need. As his fingers made contact with the small bundle of nerves between your legs, you felt like electricity was buzzing through your veins. A jolt of pleasure wracked through your body like thunder, your hand immediatelly reaching for his wrist to pull him away. You couldn't say anything, you couldn't tell him to stop, you didn't want to. He was touching you so perfectly it made you want to scream- but this was Gojo Satoru. You couldn't let him know you enjoyed this.

So you put all your power into staying silent, even though he could feel you dripping onto his fingers, see your legs buck under the weight of your body. His touch was like magic and all you could do was grab and pull at his clothes, unable to move him the tiniest bit. He was growing tired of your unresponsiveness, even though you were so close to cumming that you couldn't breathe anymore. As you were about to reach your peak, he withdrew his hand, cruelly leaving you to pant and struggle with the ruined orgasm. Even in your helpless state you tried breaking away from his grip, but he shook his head in disappointment.

"Why are you still trying to fight me? You know you're enjoying this, sweetheart" he whispered into your ear, as arrogant and egotistical as ever, "I'm not going to stop until you're screaming my name." The promise made you both terrified and unbelievably aroused at the thought. Gojo Satoru had incredible stamina, you knew he wasn't bluffing.

He took you by your forearm and spun you around so that his chest was pressed to your back, holding you in place against the cold wall. You could feel his erection against your ass, hard and thick, pressing into your soft flesh and making you drool at the thought of it being inside of you. His hands roamed freely along your skin, exploring every bit of it under your shirt, until they found the waistband of your pants again and pulled it down along with your underwear.

You felt exposed, the cold air nipping at your bare skin, but then he pressed himself against you once again and you were fighting the urge to tell him to hurry up and fuck you. He was taking it slow on purpose, though, chipping away at your sanity with every touch and kiss he placed to the back of your neck.

"I'll go slow, I promise," he whispered as he pulled his pants down and pressed the tip of his cock to your pussy. His hands held your hips in place as he pushed himself in, agonizingly slowly, stretching your insides out as he went deeper.

You clawed at the wall, feeling yourself squeeze his thick cock buried deep inside of you. His breathing was strained, he was doing his best not to fuck you senseless right then, still letting you adjust to the feeling of having him inside you. You still refused to say anything and patiently waited for him to make his next move. But then he suddenly pulled out and swiftly thrust into you, his cock reaching further than before. You yelped out in surprise, feeling both pain and pleasure as your legs threatened to give out under you once again.

"So this is where you're weak, right?" His voice was like honey, his words causing a chill to run up your spine.

He started moving his hips at a steady pace, burying himself over and over again into your dripping cunt. He was whimpering into your ear, finding comfort in squeezing your breasts as he pounded into you mercilessly, feeling you wrapped tightly around him.

"You're still silent, huh?" he muttered, "Then I guess I'll just have to fuck you harder."

And fuck you harder he did.

Each time he thrust into you he brought your hips toward him, assuring that every bit of his length was buried inside of you. He was picking up his pace and you couldn't keep silent any longer. Small mewels and yelps would escape you with each thrust, your juices coating his cock and running down your thighs.

"Say my name," he commanded, "Say my name or I'm going to stop."

You were so desperate for his cock that you didn't care anymore. Your pride and dignity was already gone, you hated him and it didn't matter anymore. Gojo Satoru was fucking you senseless against a wall of a run-down building, ravaging your body like it was his for the taking. You hated him. However, you loved the way he was making your core burn with need whenever he buried his cock deep into you to let your hatred get in the way.

"Satoru," you said, completely out of breath, fucked out of your mind. "Don't you dare stop."

A smirk appeared on his face and he continued fucking you, his cock twitching happily at the sound of his own name. Your vision had become blurry, you felt like you were about to pass out from the amount of times he's made you cum on his dick, but he wasn't stopping.

"You're such a little slut, letting Gojo Satoru fuck you like this," he said, hearing you only cry out in response, unable to form proper words, "I know you hate me, but I love hearing you so desperate like this. You can't even stand properly. How does it feel being so weak? So weak you can't even say no to getting fucked by Gojo Satoru?"

You were weak. You were weak from his merciless attempts to make you climax over and over again, each one being more successful than the next. You were too weak to make him stop. You were too weak to want him to stop.

"Hold up just a little bit more, I'm almost there," he told you, speeding up his final few thrusts, making you curse at him through screams as he made you cum on his cock one final time before he stopped deep inside of you, filling you with his cum as he groaned, his forehead resting on your shoulder.

You stayed like that for a minute, both trying to catch your breath, his cock still twitching inside of you as you squeezed the last drop of cum out of him.

As soon as he let you go you felt just how weak your legs had become. You pulled your pants up, turning around and sliding down the wall until you were sitting on the ground in front of him.

He had a smug grin on his face, seeing the hate seep back into your gaze. This didn't change anything. You still hated him. The egocentric existence of Gojo Satoru was something you despised the most.

"I'll see you around, Y/N," he said, turning around and walking away, "We can repeat this some time soon. Don't worry, I'll find you."

And with those final words he disappeared in a blink of an eye.

#gojo satoru #jjk #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader smut #gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen smut #hate sex #fanfiction #minors dni

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cookierunauprompts · 2 months

Note

Yo, is me, I was one of the anons with this prompt

“Idea, reader cookie wakes up from a nightmare and runs into pure vanilla and tells him what happened to them, he reassures them that they’ll be fine, and offering them to stay in his room for the night…little do they know, for that is not pure vanilla…”

Uh-if ya wanna do it that’s cool

I'm pretty sure the last time you sent this the ask bx was closed but Sure! I'm happy to do it now.

Set in the Warden!Reader Timeline btw, plus Warden Reader Lore. Under the cut because it's pretty long.

Requested Prompts #46 - 💔💓

You are the Warden of the Great Seal, created by the Witches to keep the sealed Beasts in check. Nothing more, nothing less. You patrol the realm of the seal tirelessly, perhaps day in day out. But you never knew what time it was there, nor how much time had passed. You just know that it's long judging by Eternal Sugar's complaints. After all, you are the Warden of the Seal. Nothing more, nothing less. It was the purpose the Witches made you for, right? You are the Warden of the Seal. Nothing more, nothing less. " But there HAS to be something more, right?" A voice nags at you, interrupting your patrol. You cannot identify its source, its likely just one of the Beasts messing with you again. You're almost like a chew toy to them. You can't even begin to recount the amount of times you've been torn apart, you tend to keep your distance from Burning Spice and Eternal Sugar. But it's fine, they are contained. You're doing a good job. They can't escape, they won't escape. You can't escape, you won't ever escape. You are the Warden of the Seal, nothing more, nothing less. You aren't meant to be anyone else. But what if you are? You are the Warden of the Seal. Nothing more, nothing less. Who were you before you were the warden? You are the Warden of the Seal. Nothing more, nothing less. Can you hear that breaking sound? You are the Warden of the Seal. Nothing more, nothing less. Can you smell that scent? You are the Warden of the Seal, keeping the Seal closed is your job. Can you taste that fresh air? You are the Warden of the Seal. Can you see the empty prisons? You may just suck at your job. Can you feel that you're alive?

----

You awake with a sharp gasp, grabbing your spear from next to where you were laying down. A bed, your mind supplies you with. More specifically, it's a bed in the... uh, where are you again? Come to think of it, there isn't supposed to be any beds inside the seal. So then where are you? And what happened? " Miss Warden?" You hear a voice, you quickly point your weapon at the source and- Oh, it's just Pure Vanilla Cookie. You slowly lowered your spear. " My apologies, but it seemed like you were having a nightmare. Are you alright?" " I- I'm fine. It was just a dream after all." You deflect, and you swear that for just a moment you can see Pure Vanilla Cookie's eye twitch. You remembered where you are now, this was the Faerie Kingdom. It was the home of the Silver Tree, otherwise known as the seal, and you'd left the seal to chase after Shadow Milk Cookie since he'd escaped(momentarily, you remind yourself). The main problem, was that White Lily Cookie had re-sealed Shadow Milk into the seal without you. So naturally, you were on edge. " Are you sure?" Pure Vanilla questioned you. " You did look quite disturbed, Little Warden. If there's anything troubling you, then don't be afraid to tell us." He then offered with a kind smile, it was nice of him to do so in fact. Except, there was just one thing that had made you skeptical. Sure, it was something nice but... " ... 'Little Warden'? You muttered aloud, just enough for Pure Vanilla to hear you. Wasn't Pure Vanilla at least a head shorter than you? So then why would he... Actually, wait. Pure Vanilla hadn't gone through a growth-spurt, right? Because he was simply too tall- Wait. Your formerly appreciative expression falters into a neutral grimace, you could smell the ash from the flames of chaos outside. You could see the cracks in his disguise, in fact, you could even see the maze you'd been trapped in with your new allies sitting on the drawers as if it were an innocent snow-globe, the maze also seemed to be contained in said snow-globe. You point your spear at him again, now knowing who he truly is. " Shadow Milk Cookie." You said sternly. " Drop that disguise you're wearing, I know it's you." The beast wearing Pure Vanilla's dough smirked, a grin far too wide present on his face. " Well well well well well! I didn't think you'd figure me out so soon~!" Shadow Milk's voice came through, he'd completely dropped any pretense that he could have been Pure Vanilla in the slightest way. The beast then dropped to the floor with a splat, melding back into the shadows. It isn't too long before you can feel him curl around you, back in his true shape, resting his head and hands upon your shoulders. You staggered in his grasp with a gasp, your spear dropping out of your hands as you lost your footing. " How'd you guess it was me? My silly lilttle Warden?~ Come on, I'm just crumbling to know!" He chirped, holding your weapon just out of reach. " You..." You almost growled, not willing to entertain the twisted entertainer before you. " What have you done to my allies? Why am I here? Did you give me that dream?" You calmly(or maybe coldly?) questioned him, you know that you shouldn't give in to his tomfoolery. " Oh no no no no no my dear, dreamland isn't my domain, that would be Eternal Sugar's." Shadow Milk chirped, so then... Had all the beast's gotten out? You couldn't help but feel a pang of dread settle in. " As for why you're here, well, you refused to stay put in my silly little maze of deceit! You ended up getting out so... I decided to bring you here!" " And 'here' would be...?" You asked, tilting your head back to look at him.

" The Spire of Deceit and Truth!" He hummed. " Oh, and if you're planning on escaping then don't even try to! Each floor of the spire is it's own maze of deceit, it's almost impossible to get out!" He says, as if you can't just jump off the balcony. He detaches from you, letting you fall back onto your surprisingly comfortable bed. It's only now that you realize just how large everything's gotten, your reminder that you were just a crumb compared to the beasts. The shadows collect and grow in mass, eventually all forming together to make Shadow Milk's towering form. " Well, I have to go now! All of Earthbread is waiting for my next performance! So just stay put here, you cute little thing~!" He chirped, all before disappearing in a flash of blue light. And now that you're given a moment longer to think, you come to a realization. You failed at your job, if all the other beasts got out then... the seal would have to be broken, heck, maybe even destroyed. And now, you're probably the only one who even has a chance of wrangling them all back up. Hopefully the seal can be repaired... If it's not entirely destroyed.

----

And there we go! finally got this out. I got too busy playing side order for splatoon three but now I am back on the grind! Mostly. (It's five AM as of posting this, don't worry I did in fact sleep.)

But anyways yeah! reader angst! yippee! This takes place in a more sort of 'things are going bad but we may or may not get a bad ending?' timeline for the Warden!Reader AU. Aka where all the beasts get out and Warden!Reader gets trapped in the maze for a while before figuring out she's in Shadow Milk's stupid fucking maze.

But however will the little warden defeat the five great beasts? Well, that's for you to figure out. I'm just the prompt guy(girl).

#cookie run #cookie run kingdom #cookie run au #crk #cr kingdom #shadow milk cookie #cookie run au prompts #beast yeast #shadow milk cookie x reader #pure vanilla cookie #he's there in spirit. aka Shadow Milk is disguising himself as him.#white lily cookie #eternal sugar cookie #these two are only mentioned #warden!reader prompts

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iliketangerines · 2 months

Text

you can't run away from us

pairing: dom!kung lao x afab!reader x dom!liu kang

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), dubcon, edging, overstimulation, finger-fucking, pussy/clit slapping, double penetration, brief breeding kink

you’re on a covert mission from Lord Raiden to go to the Netherrealm and retrieve an artifact from the palace

it’s going exceptionally well, you got in undetected, moved through the base without alerting the guards, and picked up the artifact with no trouble

you put the artifact into the bag and turn around and take a step back when you see Kung Lao and Liu Kang

or, at least their revenant selves

before they were killed, the three of you had been friends, very close friends, and had grown up with each other and eventually taken each other as lovers

you had watched them take stumbles and break their bones and in turn they watched you master your fighting skills, though you could never really beat them in a spar

when you had watched the two of them die in front of your eyes, your heart had broken into pieces, and you swore to never love again

but now, they’re both standing in front of you, red glowing eyes looking at you like you’ve just walked into a trap and they’re about to feast

your eyes dart around to look for an exit, but they’re standing in front of the only one, damn this palace and it’s lack of exits

you grab the dagger at your side and point it at them, trying to ignore how your hands shake, but they clearly notice it as Kung Lao smirks and Liu Kang lets out an amused huff

you know you can’t beat them, but you can try

you lunge toward them with your weapon, and they easily deflect the blade

this goes on for a few minutes, you try to stab them, get away and get through the entrance, but they hold fast

but soon, you’re out of breath and your body aches, your body has aged throughout the years and while you still maintained a fit physique, you were no longer filled with boundless energy

and it seems the revenants know this too because they finally stop toying with you

Liu Kang grabs onto your wrist and knocks away the blade, and Kung Lao teleports behind you, hitting one of your pressure points with deadly accuracy

you go limp onto the floor and pass out

when you wake up, you don’t find yourself in a dungeon, rather you find yourself in a rather plush bed, one of your legs chained to the bedpost and you’re completely naked

immediately you get out of bed, testing the limits of the chain, but the bed post is made of metal, and the chain is also metal

you don’t have any special powers like Johnny Cage or gadgets like Sonya Blade, you were just a small human that was very good at sneaking around

the door to the bedroom creaks open, and you crawl backward on the bed as far as you can and draw the blanket up to hide your body

Kung Lao and Liu Kang walk through the doors and notice how you’re awake and alert

Kung Lao stalks toward you first, pulling you toward him against your thrashing, and pulls you in for a bruising kiss

you bang your fists against his chest, trying to pull away, but he just grabs at your wrists with one large hand and pins them above your head

he forces his thigh between yours, your bare cunt rubbing against the rough texture of his pants, and you can’t help bet whimper at the sensation

Kung Lao smiles at this and continues to kiss you, moving his other hand down to grope at your chest

he grabs at your chest greedily, squeezing it so that it hurts and you whine into Kung Lao’s mouth, and he uses his fingers to pinch at your nipples much too hard

Liu Kang just watches in the corner, pumping his cock slowly and smearing the precum around the shaft

Kung Lao humps into your leg, finally pulling away from your mouth to place open-mouthed kisses down your neck and bite you hard enough to leave indents

you sob in pain as he bites you but still can’t help but whimper as your pussy clenches at the thought of him marking you up

Kung Lao feels you clench around nothing against his thigh and chuckles, moving his hips so that your legs are forced to spread around his waist and that you can’t close them

he trails his hand down from your chest to pinch your clit, and your back arches off the bed as you whine in pleasure

he rubs your clit in rough circles, dipping his long fingers into your wet pussy to press against that spot inside that has tears rolling down your face

he removes his fingers to slap your pussy with a resounding smack, and it sends your mind whirling and a choked moan spilling from your throat

he watches you closely, enjoying how you’re crying from the pleasure and the pain

you’re so close to cumming, and Kung Lao knows it too because he doubles his efforts, fucking you on his fingers and bullying that spot inside of you while grinding the heel of his palm into your clit

you’re so so close, and your hips buck upwards at his fingers, but just as you’re about to come, he removes his fingers and the friction is gone and you let out a cry of frustration

you look at him angrily through your tears, but he has a wide grin on his face and leans down close to your ear, saying that if you want to come, you have to obey his and Liu Kang’s every whim

your eyes look between the two revenants, and you shake your head, you don’t want to be stuck down here in this hell

Kung Lao just shrugs and looks at Liu Kang, and Liu Kang nods his head in some sort of agreement

Kung Lao looks back at you and says that you are going to agree soon enough, and then he starts fucking you open on his fingers again, and you moan at the pleasure

he pinches your clit, slaps your pussy until it’s red and puffy and drooling wetness, your chest is filled with hickeys, and your hands are starting to go numb for how long they’ve been pinned above your head

Liu Kang just watches in the corner, fucking his fist and even coming once onto the floor, but Kung Lao doesn’t seem to care, he just keeps on edging you, bringing you to the edge before stopping and watching you beg and beg and beg

he gives the same question, that you must obey his and Liu Kang’s every whim, and you’re just about to lose your mind

finally, after the umpteenth time of Kung Lao denying you your release, you finally break and agree, you’ll obey him and Liu Kang

they both smile, eyes glowing bright and red, and you feel some part of your soul rip away from you, as if shackled to them now

finally, Kung Lao rubs at your clit in fast and rough circles, not letting up as you buck your hips into his fingers and whimper in overstimulation

you see stars as you come, eyes squeezing shut and head thrown back as you ride Kung Lao’s fingers and let him fuck you through your orgasm

as you come back down, Kung Lao releases your hands and tells you keep them there

you experimentally try to move your hands from the spot above you, but you feel something in your body resist, and you can’t move your arms from their spot

it seems that Kung Lao’s noticed you trying to resist and smiles at you

he leans down close and says you belong to him and Liu Kang fully now, and your heart beats erratically in your chest as you relieve the gravity of the situation

Kung Lao throws your legs over his shoulders and slides his dick in between your pussy folds but doesn’t put it in, just admiring the way you grow more desperate for him to fuck you

he tells you to beg for him to fuck you, and your mouth opens against your own accord and you start begging

‘please please please, i need you fuck me, please, i’ll be a good little slut, please, please-’

he thrusts into you in one smooth stroke, not allowing you to adjust as he starts fucking into your pussy with reckless abandon

Liu Kang finally moves from his spot behind the bed and straddles your chest and shoves his hard cock into your warm mouth

you choke on his dick, but he doesn’t care, just telling you to take it like a good whore and suck on his dick

he fucks into your throat mercilessly, moaning at how warm your mouth is, and Kung Lao behind him is rubbing circles into your clit

you sob at the overstimulation, it’s all too much, Kung Lao fucking into your pussy and flicking your clit, and Liu Kang fucking your mouth

you’re light-headed and can only take the ruthless fucking as you clench around Kung Lao’s dick and cum around him

they don’t let up though, in fact, they somehow get rougher, chasing their own release as you start to cry

finally, Liu Kang shoots thick ropes of cum down your throat, and Kung Lao buries himself deep inside of you and his seed starts to leak out your cunt

Liu Kang removes himself from your mouth, but Kung Lao stays seated inside of you

in fact, Kung Lao moves you so that you’re now sitting his lap, and you whine as you sink down further on his still-hard cock

your eyes grow wide when you feel Liu Kang push up behind you, positioning his dick to enter your already full pussy

you go to squirm but Liu Kang tells you to stay still, and you freeze in place

Liu Kang tells you that you can take it, your pussy is too greedy not to, and pushes his way in until he’s also seated next to Kung Lao

you cry at the stretch, it’s all too much, and your body is trembling at all the stimulation

but you can’t move and can only take it as they both start thrusting in and out of you, and you go limp in their arms as Liu Kang reaches his hand up to wrap a large hand around your neck

they whisper the dirtiest things to you, that you’re their good whore, that they’ll fuck you whenever they like and you’ll like it, maybe they’ll fuck you when Lord Raiden inevitably comes to see what’s wrong and you’ll only be able to be a drooling mess as you come undone on their cocks

maybe they’ll fuck you in front of all their friends to show them how desperate of a whore you are, and they’ll show everyone how they own you fully and completely

Kung Lao presses a hand against your stomach and you whimper at the sensation, and Kung Lao grows even more feral at seeing the bulge of their cocks through your stomach

they fuck into you until you’re cumming on their cocks again, and they bury their seed into you

and yet, they’re still hard, you look up at Kung Lao in front of you, and he smiles, wiping away a tear on your cheek

he says they’ve waited two decades to have you again, and they won’t be satisfied any time soon

when they’re done, you’ve already passed out and their cum is dripping out of your abused cunt, and Kung Lao shoves it back in with his fingers before they both leave to finally let you rest

you’re going to need it with how much they’re going to use you

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kvtie444 · 3 months

Text

⋆‧₊˚ TEACHERS PET .9 - FINALE

summary: Reader has a new teacher and finds herself falling for him blahblahblah teachers pet by melanie vibes xoxo FINAL CHAPTER!!

・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

"Tell me you don't love me," she breaks the silence. I almost choke up. "Y/n, we're not together anymore," I mumble. Her eyes shift, but she keeps her stand, looking up at me. "Tell me you don't love me anymore," she repeats. Fuck.

I don't know how to play my card right now. I could lie, tell her I don't. But that would break her. I want her to do better, be a better person without me. Or I could tell her the truth. I still love her more than myself.

・₊✧ Reader pov ˚｡⋆

I observe him, struggling to hold back the tears that threaten to spill. His jaw tightens, and he watches me with an unreadable expression. A fear lingers within me that he might walk away as he has done with our past issues. Tired of constructing emotional walls only for him to break them down and repeat the cycle, I feel the weight of it all, suffocating.

"Please, y/n. I'm begging you. Just get back in the car," he pleads, inching closer. I gaze up at him, my mind racing, realising he's deflecting my question again. My eyes bore into his blue ones, urging him to confront the issue. He sighs, glancing off to the side and then down at the floor.

Shifting on his feet, a sinking feeling overtakes me as he starts walking back towards the car. My lungs feel strained as I struggle to breathe, tears now streaming down my face. "You're a coward, Matt!" I sob behind him. Undeterred, he continues walking. "All I ever wanted was for you to love me, and you use me. You make me fall in love with you, and now you're leaving me, again!" I yell, frustration and pain pouring out. He halts, turns around, and takes a few steps closer.

"I didn't make you do anything, 'I made you fall in love with me?' Y/n, I didn't make you do shit!" he yells back, stepping closer and causing me to step back slightly.

"Why can't you just fucking say it? Either you love me or you don't!" I cry out, pushing against his chest. His body tenses, arms reaching out in an attempt to grab me, but I resist, pushing into his chest again. "Y/n," he softly says, my tears still flowing. He grabs my wrists, and I finally yield. He pulls me close, holding me as I sob against his chest. His now damp shirt presses against my cheek as he comforts me, his hand soothingly rubbing my head and running through my hair.

"Shh, shh," he hushes me as I attempt to control my breathing, my hands clenched against his shirt. A moment of silence goes by until I catch my breath. "You're being mean," I mumble against him. "I know. I'm sorry," he breathes out above me. I feel his chin shift from the top of my head as he leans down, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. I hate how he thinks a kiss can make it all better. I hate how he still affects me. I hate how mean he can be and I hate how much I love him.

"I'm just scared of this, y/n," he murmurs against my head. There's a brief silence as I listen to his heartbeat, which quickens slightly. "You drive me crazy. I'm so- shit. I'm so into you. Not a minute goes by where you're not on my mind, y/n. I really fucking love you. You know that. But it scares the shit out of me," he confesses. I stiffen against him. He does love me.

The only sounds that filled the night were Matt's steady heartbeat and the occasional passing cars. I shut my eyes against his chest, finding comfort in the rhythmic echoes. "What are you afraid of?" I whispered against his chest. His hand, gently stroking my hair, paused, and he let out a breath. Pulling away, he held my face with both hands, his eyes scanning over every feature.

"I don't wanna hurt you. It feels so good, but it's just so wrong. I mean, you're still at school, and I am- was your teacher. I'm scared that one day you're gonna graduate and realize this was just a phase or something," he confessed, his vulnerability hanging in the night air.

My heart broke for him, and I placed my hands on his wrists, rubbing my thumb in soothing circles against his skin. "I love you, Matt. Only you. I always will," I softly replied. A gentle smile played on his lips as he closed his eyes. "We can make this work. We will," I affirmed with a smile. Opening his eyes again, he used his thumbs to wipe away my tears and pressed his forehead against mine. "I wanna make this work," he whispered back. I nodded slightly, my voice almost a whisper, "We can do that." We lingered in that tender moment before he pressed a long kiss to my forehead and took my hand, leading me back to the car.

I opened the passenger door and noticed the spilled drink from earlier on the seat, nibbling on my lip in embarrassment from my earlier intoxicated behavior. Matt glanced over, leaning into the back seat, and his shirt lifted momentarily, granting me a quick view of his waistband and happy trail. He returned with one of his hoodies, placing it on the seat for me to sit on. I took my seat, smiling to myself, and buckled my seatbelt.

"I'm sorry for yelling earlier," he spoke up. I looked over at him, finding his eyes already on me. Taking his hand, I held it. "It's fine, I was being stupid," I smiled. He let out a laugh, shaking his head before turning on the engine. He briefly removed his hand from mine to shift the gearstick, returning it just above my knee comfortably as we started driving.

During the journey, the earlier conversation lingered in my thoughts. I couldn't help but overthink - his fear, maybe it wasn't solely about the person and timing, but something rooted in his past. He mentioned being engaged before, and she cheated on him. Then, he had casual flings with other girls as a rebound. Could I be just another rebound in his life?

"What happened to your ex?" My mind spoke before my body, and I instantly shut my mouth. His demeanor shifted instantly, and the air felt thick and uncomfortable. "Sorry," I mumbled. He sighed, "She cheated on me," he replied. "Yeah, I knew that, but like, what happened after?" I asked. He sighed. "You don't have to ans—" "It's fine," he cut me off, his grip on my leg growing slightly tighter. "After we ended things, I saw some other people, screwed around a bit but would ghost them right after. Didn't wanna commit again," he said. "Oh." That's great to hear.

We were in silence for a minute before he made a turn I didn't recognize. We were driving down a dark road, the only light coming from the headlights, and I looked around curiously. He made another turn and parked the car. We were at a viewpoint I'd never seen before, but it was beautiful. You could see the whole city from here. The soft hum of music played in the background as his body turned to face me, mirroring his actions. He took my hand, pressing his lips against it, his breath from his nose fanning over my knuckles as he stared into my eyes.

"You're different though, y/n," he broke the silence. "I'd never do anything to spite you," he mumbled against my skin. I smiled softly at him. He pressed three more kisses to my knuckles and leaned over the center console, pressing a soft kiss to my lips. He smiled against my lips. "I love you," he said.

"I love you too," I replied, my hands playing with his brown locks by the nape of his neck. I looked back at the view for a second before gazing back into Matt's blue eyes, the same eyes I wanted to spend the rest of my life staring into.

・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆

a/n: sappy moment🤯 guys thank you all so much for reading my work. it means the world to me seeing people enjoy something I've created and this story especially has been amazing - seeing people talk about it on here and TikTok might not seem like a big deal but to me it genuinely put the biggest smile on my face lmao. teachers let is my baby, and I'm already working on another matt series that you guys will hopefully all love as much as this. thank you all so much for reading and I love you all !!!

tag list !!

@iloveneilperry @bernardenjoyer @daddyslilchickenfingers @mbbsgf @sturnvilmed @s1urnioloslvr @mattsbratt @mangoposts @christinarowie332 @recklesssturniolo @bluesturniolo333 @flowerxbunnie @kenzieiskoolaid @pepsiskiess @poopydroopt @byechristopher @solarsturniolo @m6ttsturniolo @lustfulslxt @stardustmf444 @thankyounextt @glossyfx @bellasturniolo @justurniolos @cl0esblogg @strumbolisworld @strniolosworld @chrisloyalgf @aliyahsbody @spideylovin @justangelheree @sturnioloenthusiast @nickmillersn1gf @soursturniolo@bernardenjoyer@stuniolobbg @luv4kozume@luvmxtt@urmommysbathroom@lexisecretaccx

#spotify #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #angst #chris sturniolo x reader #fluff #smut #imagine

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probablyjustturtle · 4 months

Text

I would absolutely love it is DreamWorks would do a special focused on Branch trying to propose to Poppy.

Here I'll write the plot for you. It's long brace yourself.

I imagine this takes place like 6 months or so after Band Together.

Life after TBT is going well.

Branch cleared out some rooms for his brothers to stay in when they need it. Floyd is somewhat of a permanent resident, anxious about leaving Branch to live on his own again.

John Dory built a garage of sorts near Branch's bunker for Rhonda so she has a cozy shelter to relax in. JD switches between sleeping with Rhonda and sleeping in Branch's bunker.

Clay built a pod between Viva and Poppy's and the bunker.

Bruce visits every now and then, understandably, he has like 13 kids. When he does come into town they brothers all stay in Branch's bunker to hang out and have bro time.

Floyd notices Branch being extra anxious for some reason. He can't figure out why and whenever he asks Branch, Branch always deflects the conversation away. So Floyd naturally got really worried. After the Branch told them everything that happened in the past 20 years, he was worried there was something else he was keeping from his brothers.

Floyd went to JD and Clay asking if they've noticed something's up. Viva (she was hanging around Clay's pod and inserted herself into the conversation) mentions that she's noticed Branch has been nervous around Poppy lately.

That's weird? Why would he be nervous around his girlfriend and best friend?

They decided to bring it up to Branch. Of course, they do not get a straight answer, he acts defensive, deflecting the conversation and fidgeting with something behind his back before running away.

The brothers assume the worst. The next time Bruce comes into town he's debriefed on what's going on with their little brother. They come to the conclusion that Branch needs a break from Poppy but he's too nice to tell her that himself, they decide to 'help' him.

Branch and Poppy are sitting in a clearing on a romantic picnic. Having their usual conversations, Branch looks like he gets the courage to tell Poppy something, but before he can, JD jumps in, claiming Bruce set the kitchen on fire again, he grabs Branch and pulls him away from the picnic.

Over the course of the week, this happens with each brother.

Stargazing in a tree? Clay lectures them about the dangers of sitting so high above the ground.

Taking a nice walk through the forest by the river? Bruce brought pictures of his kids he wants to show you!

Candle lit dinner in the bunker? Floyd found a family album in Grandma's old pod, who wants to see baby pictures of everyone?

Branch finally decided his brothers are a problem. Every night he's been formulating 'perfect plans' to propose to Poppy. Each one ruined by his brothers. There's no telling which one will show up so he decides to ensure they are all busy when he takes Poppy on a date.

He even went as far as taking Rhonda out for a walk after the rain and let her roll around in mud.

John Dory was busy giving Rhonda a bath, Clay was asked to look over all the safety features on Branch's security system and looking for improvements, Floyd was asked to take over storytime with the young trolls for Poppy, and Bruce was asked to help organize one of the common troll parties with the snack pack. They were all busy. Perfect.

Branch decided to take Poppy out for another stroll, this was the one. The weather was pleasant, not too hot, not too chilly. Perfect. His brothers were occupied, their friends were occupied. It was just him and his soon-to-be fiance. The one thing he didn't account for?

Viva.

Viva found them, grabbing Poppy and shouting about a new juice stand that just popped up and that she would just die if she couldn't try it with her dear sister. And Branch was left alone. His girlfriend shouted an apology over her shoulder as she was dragged away by her sister.

His brothers returned to the bunker after all their activities to find Branch nowhere to be seen. They called for him and split up to look around the bunker for their brother.

Floyd found him in a small backroom near his bedroom, slumped over a writing desk, head on his arm, staring at something in his other paw. All around the desk and on the floor lay many crumpled papers. Some in balls, some haphazardly thrown near the trash can. But all over. Floyd picked one up. A messy on of the plans his brother was famous for making was drawn on the page. Floyd picked up another, the same subject on the page but different method. Floyd finally pieced everything together. He called to his younger brother. Branch picked his head up with a sniffle, tear tracks clear on his face and in his paw, a ring box. An engagement ring box.

Floyd looked sadly at his brother before walking over and hugging him. Branch resting his head into his brother's shoulder. Letting himself cry a bit more.

(next bit is a bit of dialogue I had in mind for this scene)

"Floyd, did you find him?!" They heard Bruce call from down the hall just as his face appeared in the doorway. "He's in here guys!" He called to his other brothers. His smile quickly fell as he looked at the state of the room and his younger brother. His gaze softens as he makes his way over to Branch and Floyd.

"Branch!" Shouted Clay and John Dory at seeing the troll they were looking for, before they had the same reaction to seeing their brother's state.

Bruce was the first to kneel to look Branch in the eyes. "What happened B?" He asked in his most comforting voice, the one he used when his own kids were upset.

Branch picked his head up and looked at all his older brothers. With a sniff he decided to just tell them what he was trying to avoid telling them all week.

"all week I've been trying to... Propose to Poppy." He said with a croak, his voice tight from crying. That's when they noticed the open ring box in Branch's paws.

That's when they all realized they fucked up.

"all week I've made plan after plan," Branch continued, oblivious to his brothers staring at eachother silently saying "oh shit." To one another. "so that we could have a moment together where I could get to tell her, but I never got a chance. We always got interrupted, at first it was you guys so I made sure you all were busy, sorry by the way, and just to be safe I made sure our friends were busy. It was going so well. But then Viva dragged her off before I could ask her."

The brothers sat in silence while their brother looked at the floor. They had messed up with him, again. Floyd was the first to speak.

"Branch, we're sorry." He began. "Don't be sorry, it's not your guys' fault. I didn't exactly tell you what I was trying to do."

"Well..."

That's when his older brothers decided to come clean. They told him what was going through their heads, how stupid it was of them to try to force his brother and his girlfriend to have some time apart. Branch was and at first but realized they had good intentions.

Branch seemed to loose hope, even stating "maybe its just not meant to be." Before his brothers immediately shut down that train of thought.

They decided to help Branch the proposal. They owed him that at least.

The next evening just after sunset, Branch stood confused outside Poppy's pod. Dressed nicer than his everyday attire, as per Floyd's instruction. Poppy also dressed up a bit more as well, Viva said it was a good idea.

Branch took Poppy down to the clearing he had originally planned to propose in. All he knew was that his brothers told him to bring Poppy here and to bring the ring.

The clearing was beautiful. The moon and stars provided a stunning ceiling, fairy lights decorated the perimeter and off to the side stood his brothers. With acoustic instruments. In the middle of the clearing lay a circle of flowers.

Branch smiled at his brothers. They did a wonderful job. But this was just the beginning.

Bruce and Floyd began the intro while Clay took the lead.

(I'm imagining them singing Fly Love by Jamie Foxx, Floyd on guitar, Bruce whistling and doing the bongos, JD has the tambourine, Clay has the vocal while the others do subtle backups. There's room for them to have their whole scene of setting this all up, Bruce saying "Trust me. I'm the one that's married here, I know romance." And Clay being nervous about taking the lead solo for his youngest brother's engagement, because he isn't used to emotional ballads but Floyd reassures him he'll be fine. Etc.)

Poppy took this cue to ask for Branch's hand, leading them to the circle where they began to slow dance. Enjoying the conversation about the atmosphere, the stars in each other's eyes. Half way through the song Viva released the fireflies. Making the moment even more magical.

Branch looked to his brothers. In return they smiled at him with pride and adoration. Bruce gave him a nod, urging him to take charge.

Branch confessed his feelings and vows, got down on one knee and held up the ring. Anxious for her answer. To which she responded with excited squealing and immediate 'yes's over and over. Kissing her now fiance.

So yeah, lmk what you think, if you use this idea for a fanfic or comic or smthn give me some credit. I flexed my scene writing brain for this post.

#trolls band together #dreamworks trolls #brozone #trolls floyd #trolls branch #trolls bruce #trolls poppy #trolls clay #trolls john dory #proposal #broppy #trolls viva #trolls #trolls fandom #trolls fanfic #i fed your little troll brain worms you're welcome

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cococaffeinated · 6 months

Note

Do you think Jax would routinely check on Kinger and Gangle throughout the night with the worry of them abstracting? And maybe one of them sees him sneaking in or out of their rooms?

Oh for sure! I imagine he's methodical about it. He'd stay awake for an hour... maybe two after the "sun" goes down. Just to make sure he minimizes running into other characters.

But there's always room for the unforseeable scenarios, and Jax may try to be sneaky about it but he's bound to get caught whether he wants to be or not. Characters reacting to finding Jax sneaking around, below:

Ragatha

Assuming this is after the pilot episode, she wouldn't be surprised about Jax going in and out of rooms and sneaking around. I can see her squaring up with the intention of confronting Jax on the spot, assuming his intent is to torment. But curiosity softens her stride when she realizes he's just left Kinger's room with a relieved expression. And even more curious that he seems to be bracing himself to enter Gangle's room. Not one to snoop but needing answers, Ragatha politely waits for Jax to exit Gangle's room to ask, "What were you doing?" Jax would be surprised to find Ragatha, annoyed even, to be caught by her. Mostly because he doesn't want to be truly perceived by the one character who tries so hard to see the good and positive in others. He didn't need that reminder about himself. "Nothing..." He'd say a little defensively, then grin like a chesire cat. "What's Little Ms. Goody-Two-Shoes doing snooping around in other people's business?" It's a deflection tactic, one that works because Ragatha is sure to fluster about being caught snooping. He gets to avoid the topic but his gestures that night is one that's filed away in Ragatha's mind as something to pester him about another time. ─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Zooble

I'd like to think that Zooble is just naturally low-energy with high-empathy which is why they're seemingly constantly exhausted. They'd probably be be in their room all the time if they could help it. So it will come as no surprise to Zooble when they catch Jax sneaking in and out of Kinger and Gangle's rooms. "Again? You checked the other night too, didn't you?" Zooble's deep and raspy voice makes Jax jump out of his skin. After all the effort he took to close Gangle's door so quietly, Zooble's voice slicing through the silence scares the proverbial asshole out of Jax.

He doesn't bother to mask in front of Zooble if it's just the two of them present. Zooble doesn't normally give a shit— well, they do but they rarely made a big deal of most things which Jax appreciates. They were cool, in ever sense of the word... Except when they're the near constant victim of Caine's outlandish itinerary for the day. "Every night is different, Zoob." Jax simply answers, an easy full-bodied shrug rolling over his shoulder. Zooble eyes him for a moment, seeing the relief spelled across his face. Zooble hums, nodding. "Fair enough... want to smoke a b$@!% in my room?" They finally ask, not poking more than they need to. Another thing Jax appreciates and wonders if he even deserves. But if anyone can let slide a lot of his transgressions, it was Zooble. He could vibe with them most days, they were always such a mood too, if he was completely honest with himself (which he rarely was, at least outwardly). The tension immediately relieved, Jax lets out a laugh, "How did you get a hold of that??" "I can't tell you all my secrets, Jax." (Jax finds out later that Zooble doesn't have anything but a platic toy pipe that dispenses bubbles and it's the closest thing to a joint, unfortunately.) ─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Pomni

Poor thing would definitely be sleepless the first few days, so the chances of Pomni being the one to bump into Jax in the middle of the "night" is very high. "Watch where you're going, half-stack!" came out the aggrevated stage whisper from Jax. The words 'I'm sorry' nearly leaves Pomni's lips but she swallowed her own trepidation and frowns deeply at Jax's rudeness. She was trapped in a liminal hellscape, but that didn't mean she was resigned to be a digital circus doormat for the resident jerk. "It's literally @$$ o' clock, I didn't think anyone would be walking..." she huffs, shakes her head and looks at Jax. Really taking him in, he looks less relaxed. More on edge. "What are you... even doing up?" Jax smiles tightly, it looks smug... but it also strained, "If you're not too chicken, you could follow me and find out for yourself. Or go back to your room and mind your own business." And just like that, it seemed like a challenge. Pomni thought Jax was a real piece of work but he seemed equally preturbed that she was still following him around despite his ominous invitation, so that was enough to make coming along with him seem like a win. It surprises Pomni to learn that Jax's goal was just to check on Kinger and Gangle, they were quiet for the most part. Until it was time to part ways. "Sooo..." Pomni starts, but Jax cuts her off. "Shut up, not a single word." "Okay, just one... one question." Pomni asks quickly before Jax can use his long legs to his advantage in walking away real fast. "Fine. Spit it out." "The centipede you mentioned to Ragatha?" Pomni asked, trailing off. Jax raised a brow, a genuinely smug smirk returning to his face. He seemed more natural like that, oddly enough. "I don't know where to get an ant much less a centipede, use that information how ever you want, half-stack. G'night." And with that, the rabbit hurries off. Leaving Pomni with more questions about his true character than answers.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Caine

"My, my! It's quite late for you to play a game of treasure-hunting all by yourself, Jax!" Jax had a hand to his chest, whipping around and looking up in shock. Only to find Caine floating just above him... A rare occurence for the ringmaster to be checking on any of them this late at night. "Caine! Jeezus... yeah I was, just..." Jax sighed, shaking his head. "I told you already... I'm not treasure-hunting." he muttered. Caine simply stared, patiently it seemed, with unblinking eyes betwix a row of teeth. Completely unaffected by Jax's prickly response. "But you also don't like calling it "checking in on others", you made that clear last time I caught you lurking like this," Caine smartly retorted without a hint of malice or sarcasm. Jax grunted, brows furrowing, unsure what to make of Caine. He wasn't a friend... not really, but these few little private encounters with the digital ringmaster were definitely counted for something that resembled a strange sort of friendship. "Right, I did say that, didn't I." Jax responds with a hint of ire, mildly exasperated. "You don't have to go with me, I just want to check on—" "Kinger and Gangle, yes I guessed! I want to tag along! You can't play treasure-hunts all by yourself after all!" Caine insisted cheerfully, giving Jax a conspiratorial wink of an eyeball as if to say no one else would know he secretly worried, and secretly cared. And Jax rolled his eyes in return, flustered perhaps and maybe even appreciative of the company, if he could ever admit that. "Yeah, whatever, just keep it down, will ya. You're gonna wake up the whole circus."

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

#the amazing digital circus #tadc gangle #tadc kinger #tadc jax #tadc ragatha #tadc zooble #tadc pomni #tadc caine #silly headcanons #AskCocoCaffeinated

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dovabunny · 5 months

Text

Want some omegaverse GhostSoap baby drama?

Ghost (alpha) dumps Soap before the omega could tell him he's pregnant. Soap was devastated from the break up, but couldn't get it over his heart to terminate. So, he decided to retire - effective immediately, without honours. The only person on base who knew was the dedicated omega doctor who could only cover for him so long before he couldn't hide it anymore.

He slips out in the night.

But he didn't realize someone was following...

Price had gone to his office at 2am looking for his favorite lighter when he found the letter under the door from Soap about his immediate resignation and retirement. He rushes out in time to catch Soap sneaking off base with just his bag.

He was suspicious that Soap had maybe crossed them, that he was deflecting. He overhears 'the airport' between Soap and the driver who just pulled in. In a mad rush he runs to his room to grab a backpack then set out to follow the man from a distance.

Soap had been distant for the past few months, increasingly so. His doctor had him booked off active duty, only allowing office work and recruit training but even then he was withdrawn. It didn't help his suspicions.

He follows Soap all the way to Scotland to a small town.

He watches from afar as a very nervous Soap knocks on the door of a cozy family home and is greeted in joy. An hour later he watches Soap fling the door open and leave again, screaming and cursing can be heard from inside. His face stained with tears, a red bruise on his cheek.

Had he gotten in trouble with an informant? Was his superiors not happy with his report or performance? He'll wait till he calls Laswell. He needs more Intel first.

He quickly sends Ghost a text that said 'till I'm back you're in charge'.

He follows as Soap takes the late train to the next town and checks into a small motel. Over the next few weeks he mostly stays in, sometimes visits the hospital. Is that where he meets his contacts? Is the motel a front? Slowly Price's suspicion turns to concern, and worry.

Then an ambulance is called to the motel. Price spots Soap being loaded in.

He can't fake the local accent to blend in so he stays outside the small-town hospital for a day and a half before Soap appears again...

... carrying a small bundle in his arms.

But something doesn't add up, something is off.

Soap seems devastated in a way that breaks Price's heart. He smiles through the tears at the little one in his arms as he slowly walks down the street into the night air.

A few blocks down he stops in front of the small orphanage next to the church. He places the warmly swaddled little one at the orphanage's steps, knocks and quickly leaves sobbing.

Before the door can even be answered, however, Price finds his body moving. He dashes out of his hiding spot and swoops the wee one into his arms, quickly walking away as he hears the door being answered to nothing and no one.

A block down, once he's sure it's safe, he peeks down at the curious little face.

And sees blue eyes like Soap...and pale skin and blond hair - like Simon.

It doesn't take much to deduce what happened. He had noticed Ghost had also been withdrawn and taking riskier solo missions since he and Soap stopped being each other's shadow suddenly. In fact, he'd been so busy trying to stop Ghost from getting himself killed or killing a recruit who happened to catch him on a bad day - that he'd not realised this probably had something to do with Soap's withdrawal too. Too busy and distracted to put two and two together.

They were both hurting. Soap clearly felt he couldn't take care of the wee one, but wanted it to have a chance. Even if it meant leaving the army.

As he walks he pulls out his phone to make a call. Laswell pulls some strings and files, and before he gets to the hotel the Captain's official records included that of his newborn son: 'John Simon Price'.

Till his boys are ready, he'll keep their little one safe and happy. Grandpa Price will make sure of it.

#soapghost #ghostsoap #johnny soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #captain john price #grandpa price #my writing #ghost cod #omegaverse #cod soap #ghost x soap

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sprout-fics · 1 year

Text

Factions

König x 'Maus' F!Reader

(Part 6 of "Little Mouse" Series)

Word Count: 4.5k Rating: Teen and up Tags: Enemies to lovers, Slow burn, Dark König, Angst, Nightmares, Hurt/Comfort, Found family, Hints of yandere König, Canon bending Warnings: General dark romance themes A/N: A bit of a longer chapter, and no Maus + Konig, though some desperately needed plot/character development. We will be going back to our hunter/prey vibes with the next chapter.

He rises from the shadows of the cliff.

You see him, see the way his body unfurls from where he crouches. The silhouette of him plucks at the veins of your heart, winding a song that feels ancient in its origin, primordial. Instinctive, bathed in a touch that seeps a crimson so dark and deep you think you might drown in it. It soaks you to the bone, dyeing you in a wash of terror that spreads outwards as his body towers higher, higher-

A monster.

Something from fairytales, the thing that would haunt your nightmares as a child and yet exists even now. Older than your deepest fears, the horror of the thing before you seems etched into your very marrow, an intrinsic instinct to run, run away from the massive form before you. You can only make out the outline of him as he moves, the edges of him wavering in the darkness like a supernatural entity. A poltergeist. One that stretches out with phantom limbs and whispered voices, promising sinister prophecies.

"What made you think we were done, Maus?" He murmurs into the shell of your ear, his massive arms snaking around your front, secured there like bands of steel.

"I'll take better care of you." He promises, and his hand catches yours, smoothing his thumb into the soft, sensitive skin of your wrist.

"Hello, little Maus." He purrs from where he stands, far above, backlit by the waxing crescent moon.

"I'll see you again." You hear his voice all around you, surrounding you, within you.

"Soon."

Now that same creature, that cryptid looms above you, and when he moves he seems to blur at the edges, the darkness of him shuddering into nothingness. A void. You can hardly make out the details of him. When he shifts it leaves an incandescent aftereffect that sears into the back of your eyelids. Too bright and too dark to trace. Red pulses there behind your vision with every drumming heartbeat.

He turns to you, and you can see the bleach tears that pool across his hood, draining down into lasting marks that you think will burn into your soul if you stare too long. You see his eyes then, and they glint when his eyes focus, when he reaches a hand towards you that drips of shadows-

Yet he doesn't touch you. Doesn't extend his hand to grasp at your shivering form.

Instead, there's light.

Soft, glowing, it radiates like sunlight through dappled trees, where dust hovers like glimmer dust. Enchanted, gentle, warm.

Edelweiss.

Delicate pale blossoms that spill from his fingertips, their bright centers twinkle with soft whispers of peace, an entreaty you can't fully comprehend. They sing out to you, against that terror that seems so inherent, so primal it almost pains you to struggle against it. Yet even when the scarlet of it thrums and groans in your veins it's muted by the brightness, the strange, hesitant words of the shadow that offers them to you.

"I won't hurt you, Maus."

When you look up, it's not a monster.

It's him.

---

"Rookie."

You awake fighting, instinctively throwing out your limbs in a sloppy offense that's easily deflected by broader, calloused hands. The gesture does nothing to calm you, not when the world is an enigmatic amalgamation of movement and dizzying, blurring sensations. Squirming, you try to raise your voice, arching off the thin padded cot where you lay and blindly grappling with whoever is trying to subdue you.

"Rookie!" The voice calls again, and now your wrists are caught in a steel grip as you buck, try to yell-

Light floods your vision, and there's another voice now, murmuring a question you can barely make out, startled and concerned. You blink against the brightness, stilling long enough to clear your vision, allowing the hovering face of Gaz to float into view.

"K-Kyle." You manage, and your eyes trace over the still fading scar over his brow, the one he earned on that night all those months ago, when you'd been stolen away into the darkness.

Kyle's eyes are concerned, shocked at your violent awakening. He hunches over your prone form, leaning his weight down so he pins your hands to either side of your head, his shoulders blotting out the crackling fluorescent light above you.

"You're okay." He tells you almost instantly, voice softer now. "You're safe. Take a breath."

You blink at him for a few moments, thoughts rapidly trying to process his words and your hazy surroundings. Yet you follow him when he inhales, holding the air in his chest before releasing it. The sigh whooshes from your lungs, curling up between you and draining the coiled tension from your still drowsy form.

"That's it." Your sergeant smiles at you, brown gaze wrinkling at the corners. "Just had a bad dream. You're okay."

You swallow, feel the dusty, dry air crack against your throat before you speak. "Y-yeah. I'm okay."

"Good." Kyle declares, and his fingers flex around your wrists, loosening. "I'm going to let you go, try not to punch me again, yeah?"

You manage a nod after a moment, mind still churning with the unknown waters of confusion. Yet when he releases you, you keep still, wait for him to pull completely away before trying to sit up.

You cradle your brow in your hands as you do, dragging your palms over the planes of your face in an attempt to reorient yourself. Gaz turns from you, allowing you a few moments to gather yourself before you at last turn to him. There's a pinched, worried look on his face, arms crossed as he leans against the wall.

"You good?" A voice asks from the doorway of the bunk, and it's Soap, his muscular forearm arm braced on the doorframe as he regards you skeptically.

"Yeah...yeah. I'm good." You tell him, even when he quirks an eyebrow at you. "Just...sorry. Had a nightmare."

Soap merely shrugs, but averts his eyes from you as a frown tugs at the corner of his lips. Before you can ask, he focuses back on Gaz.

"Briefing is ready, Price is expecting us."

Gaz nods, eyes looking down in thought for a moment before they refocus on his comrade.

"Give us a minute, we'll be there." He replies, and you blink at the tone in his voice. Grim, contemplative. He regards Soap with a look that conveys a meaning you can't decipher.

Whatever it is, it's enough for Johnny, who gives a single nod before vanishing, his footsteps fading down the hallway.

There's a silence that lingers after him, stretching long and tense between you and Gaz. You cast a glance at him, but his gaze is focused downwards, towards his boots. He doesn't speak.

"...We should go." You offer, standing and moving towards the doorway to follow Soap. You're stopped, however, by Gaz's hand that catches across your bicep. You blink, turn to him, brow furrowed in worry. Yet Gaz's expression is dark, serious, intent on your skittish, frightened eyes.

"He hurt you, didn't he?"

The question feels like a gunshot. You feel the impact before you hear the sound, your body tensing automatically, coiling under the blow. It's a blatant reaction, one Gaz takes it with narrowed eyes and a tightened grip.

"Who?" You manage, but it's a bluff Gaz sees straight through.

"König." He answers instantly, and you only wind further into yourself, feeling panic rise at the intensity of his accusation.

He sees it then, sees the sudden flash of alarm that glints across your gaze. Almost immediately he blinks, face softening as he realizes he's startled you, watched you poise to flee under his touch.

"...Sorry." He offers, gaze averting, hand releasing your arm and dropping back to his side.

You don't speak, trying to summon the words needed to answer his question, to grapple with the strange, forbidden secrets in yourself he can't be allowed to see.

"It's just-" Gaz tries, then stops, swallowing before he faces you once more. His eyes are sincere, open and bright as they regard you. "I can see it. We all can."

When you don't speak, Gaz takes it as an indication to continue.

"You won't talk about what happened that night. I mean, we know from your report, but you won't...won't talk about it. You try to act like it didn't happen, try to just ignore it."

"Kyle-" You try, reaching for him. He pulls away.

"Even then, when you've seen him again, anytime he's spotted over comms you get this look in your eyes, like you're trying to figure out what to do with yourself."

Kyle's fists clench at his sides, his brow knotted. Yet his gaze is unwavering, staring straight at you and almost pleading.

"You keep saying he didn't hurt you, but every time you hear his name you tense up, go all stiff like you're scared. It...it makes me think he hurt you, and you won't tell us."

"No!" You try, voice rising quickly, trying to step towards him. Yet the sudden pitch of your voice betrays you, and Kyle's eyes widen then darken at the tone of your voice. You cut him off before he can say more.

"Kyle I swear to you, he didn't hurt me."

Yet Kyle seems unconvinced, lips pursing into a thin line as he stares at you, his eyes trying to uncover the secrets hiding below the surface.

"You don't have to hide it." He offers after a few moments of tense silence. "Nobody is going to judge you for it. I just..."

You see it then, the flash of something across his gaze that looks upset somehow, poisonously guilty.

"I need to know if it was my fault."

You blink, lips parting as Gaz's gaze shifts away.

"Kyle." You ask gently, and when you step forward this time he doesn't retreat. "Why would it be your fault?"

Kyle doesn't answer straight away, nor does he move when your fingers skim across his arm. He allows the touch, even as he avoids your gaze.

"I was your partner." He murmurs at last, and his voice drips with hurt that's self-inflicted. "I was supposed to keep you safe, and I failed. I'm...I'm sorry."

In the silence that trails after Gaz's words, you hear the sound of your heart cracking.

Frozen where you stand, hand outstretched and skimming across his arm, you feel the weight of your secret weigh down inside you. Like a taboo, forbidden gravity, the truth of your answer, of the reality within you drags you downwards into yourself. The pressure of it threatens to fracture outwards, cracking along your sinews, your spine, the shadowy depths of you.

What do you even say?

It's true. König never hurt you. He's saved your life more times than you care to count by now. He was your captor, your abductor, and yet his touch to you has never been anything other than firm, guiding, grounding against the conflict of mystery that churns within you.

You see him even in dreams, your mind conjuring visions of bleach-streaked tears and shadows, only to douse it in his gentle entreaties, the lulling warmth of his words. He ripples across your thoughts, a massive, hulking behemoth that you should be terrified of, and yet somehow find that fear within you absent.

No, you're not afraid of him. You're afraid of the truth, the raw jagged breadth of it that threatens to slice your heart from the inside out.

You don't want him to be your enemy.

You...you want him.

The realization comes so sharp and fast you jolt, flinching away at the exact moment Gaz turns his gaze to face you once more.

Silence, stillness between you both.

Then, blooming deep and wounded across Gaz's face: Hurt.

"N-no, Gaz." You try, voice cracking in your throat as his expression changes. "It wasn't your fault, you were injured too, I-"

Yet Gaz seems to have found whatever it was he was looking for inside your eyes, wild and panicked as they are at the revelations he can't see. His face sours, mouth dipping and brow furrowing as he turns from you, shrugging off your hand.

"I get it." He tells you, and even with his terse tone you can hear the pain there, the aching sensation of regret that clings to his skin. "Just...don't blame yourself. Please."

You don't dare to breathe, and it's within that absence that Gaz brushes past you, makes his way down the hallway to the briefing room. His footsteps fade, and you're left behind, hands clenched at your sides, trembling as you try to hold back the warmth that pricks against the corners of your eyes.

Don't blame yourself, he said. All while his own guilt growls, gnaws at his bones, hidden away in a place you couldn't see until it was too late.

You're such a fool.

Too obsessed with your own guilt and shame over the conflict of your feelings, you didn't notice how much he was hurting, how he watched every expression flicker across your face and betray you.

If you just told him, confessed to him the truth, then surely he wouldn't harbor this hurt, this pain inside him over his supposed mistake. How were you supposed to do that though when you could barely accept the truth yourself? What would he even think? To realize you...might have feelings for the man who hurt him?

"Rookie!"

Price's voice echoes gruff and loud down the hallway, calling out for you.

You wipe your face dry on your arm, swallowing down your bitter regret and turn to follow him.

The team murmurs amongst themselves, but when you step into the main area with the table full of maps and supplies they hush, turn to you.

You see Soap's hand fall from Gaz's shoulder quietly, tucked back to his side.

When Price clears his throat you all turn to him, with his hands planted on the table, body leaning forward and head raised to return your gaze.

"Our enemy is KorTac." He states grimly, taking a pause to fasten his eyes around the members of his team. "An elite private military company composed of international operators that are highly skilled and extremely well-armed."

You watch as Price's hand smooths across a number of manila folders scattered across the creaking metal table.

"We don't have names of every agent listed within this company, but Laswell has managed to compile a number of reports on some of their members."

When Price looks up, you see his brow is pinched, his lips a tight, severe frown.

"Many of our allies died to obtain this information."

There's a current of unease that ripples through the team around you, unspoken and yet sinister as the reality of your captain's words sink in.

"These are all operators that have gone rogue from their government and have been privately enlisted in KorTac. They operate outside any government and with full discretion. However, we were able to compile certain information on their previous training and deployments, which allows us an idea of what they're capable of."

Price's hand lands on the first folder, his voice rising as he announces its contents.

"Tor Eriksen. Callsign 'Aksel'. Former Norwegian Maritime special forces. He's a utilitarian. Knows everything from HALO Jump to bomb disposal."

"Jack of all trades." Soap offers, thick, brawny arms crossing.

"Exactly right." Price replies, looking up sharply at the sergeant. "Laswell is certain he's KorTac's specialist. He's highly trained, extremely intelligent, and adaptable."

You watch as Price's hand drifts to the second folder, plastered with a grainy picture of a soldier in full camouflage, his face obscured by a matching mask and sunglasses.

"Kim Hong-jin. Callsign 'Horangi', the 'Tiger'."

"Why do they call him that?" Gaz interjects, and when you look at him he stubbornly avoids your gaze.

"We don't know." Price replies bluntly. "What we do know is that he's former RKAF, sniper training." Price's eyes briefly raise to you, and you try your best to return his even stare. "He's been recorded as the executor of several high value targets on the CIA counter-terrorism wanted list. Highly effective and very dangerous."

"Another sniper." Soap mumbles, and his elbow bumps against your side. You manage to shoot him a nervous smile, but the expression feels forced, hollow.

"Rozlin Helms." Price continues, pointedly drawing your attention back to him. Yet before he can go on it's Ghost who interjects.

"Helms?" He questions from where he leans against the wall, outside the reach of the overhead light. "Thought she was with Shadow Company."

"She was." Price returns. "After the clusterfuck in Las Almas it seems she jumped ship, ended up in KorTac. Now she's their munitions expert and weapon procurement specialist. MI6 has tagged her name attached to several illegal weapons sales moving through Eastern Europe."

"Might explain where that one grenade came from." Gaz mumbles, and you feel his eyes dart to you for all of a moment before they vanish from your form. "Maybe."

"Laswell is arranging an information swap with MI6 regarding her whereabouts. If we can pin her, we may be able to pin where the company is currently operating from."

"We're going on the offense, Cap?" Soap asks, his voice dipping, leveling into a harsh, rough grain at the seriousness of his query.

"I'll be covering that in just a moment, MacTavish. Hold your tongue until then." Price replies, voice smooth and yet managing to convey his annoyance for the repeat interruptions.

"Yes sir."

"Good." Price nods. When his hand drifts to the next folder, however, you see him pause, glance at you.

There's no photo.

"König."

The room stills.

"No real name that we can gather. Former German Special Forces Command. Extremely skilled, extremely dangerous."

You feel them, the eyes of the team sliding over to your stiffened form. When your hands shake, you curl them at your sides, refusing to meet their stares.

"Failed enlistment as a sniper, was assigned as an insertion specialist under the first platoon. His former comrades describe him as a human battering ram. He's recorded as single-handedly eliminating an AQ cell in Berlin, all twelve fighters KIA. He's a weapon's specialist, but besides that we know he has a preference for flash bangs and frag grenades."

You hear Gaz shift where he stands, the hostility radiating off his form, poisonous and acrid.

"I don't need to emphasize that this man is dangerous. Given his...history attacking one of our own, you have full execute authority should you encounter him."

You freeze.

Yet Price doesn't notice your sudden stiffness, like a doe caught out in the open, seeing the glint of a rifle from the trees. Instead, he focuses on Ghost's voice that growls from where he lurks.

"Who's their commander?"

Price pauses, takes a drag of his smoldering cigar caught between his fingertips. The ashes spill downwards onto the reports below.

"Declan O'Conor."

"O'Conor?" Soap exclaims abruptly, arms falling as he takes a step towards the table. "Of the Irish Defense Forces?"

"The same." Price responds gravely, and this time he doesn't bother trying to correct Soap, likely allowing Soap's outburst due to his own sense of shock.

"I thought he was dead! They said he was KIA during that raid in Mozambique two years ago!"

"…They never found his body." Ghost adds in the tense silence that follows, voice deep, cutting as he absorbs the information Price has laid out.

"No, this doesn't make sense." You watch as Gaz shakes his head, stepping closer to look at the clear photo attached to the commander's profile. "I knew Conor. He's a good man. Why would he defect? More than that, why would he go so far as to fake his own death?"

You look between the group, watch as their faces morph from surprise to confusion to anger. Yet when your eyes land on Price, you stiffen at the cold, unflinching weight of them, gazing past you, into the possibilities you don't yet see.

"The agent who compiled this report was found dead at her safehouse last night, just outside of Minsk."

You suck in a breath, feel the air in the room drop several degrees as the men around you straighten, stiffen in surprise.

"Wait." You try, and when you raise your voice for the first time during the entire briefing, four sets of eyes turn to you. "Are you saying that...O'Conor had her killed? For just finding out who he was?"

Price is silent, doesn't respond. Yet the grim, fatal glint in his eyes tells you everything you need to know.

"Creepin' Jesus." Soap breathes beside you. You shiver.

Price straightens then, looming above the table as he fixes his gaze on each of you.

"From what we can gather, KorTac has been mobilized against the 141. We don't know from where, and we don't know by who. What we do know is that they've already proven they can strike anywhere, anytime. This puts not only us, but also our allies at risk, and that is something we cannot allow."

Your allies, you realize. Farah, Alex. Alejandro, Rudy. Nikolai. All them, walking with targets on their backs. Because of this.

Because of you.

"Your company, Maus." He insists, voice lowering. A hand flexes on his knee.

He won't hurt you. He said he wouldn't hurt you.

"The 141." You murmur, and something stabs inside you, guilty and hurt over your own betrayal.

"One four one." König echoes, accent turning over the numbers in a low rumble.

Something changes then. You feel it. There’s an energy that seeps from you, coiled in anger, in determination. It unspools from your veins, spilling loose so the threads of it graze against the men around you.

Ghost straightens from where he leans against the wall, and you catch his eyes as they blink open. Dead, empty, cold. Yet there's an energy there, primal, instinctive, calculating and premeditated. When he steps forward into the light his mask catches the fluorescent glow from above. Not a halo, but a radiance that burns dark at the edges. Mesmerizing. Fatal.

Beside you Soap straightens, rolls his shoulders back and you hear them grind, crackle with years of strength built into his bones. The curve of his jaw grits harsh and unrelenting, eyes piercing. Like a live, sparking wire Johnny oozes raw energy, motion, a durability you can only dream of.

When your eyes move to Gaz, you find him already staring at you. There's a clairvoyance there, an insight you know only him to possess. Gaz divines the shifting currents of events like he's tasting the wind and summoning rain. Now that same acumen seems to extend to you, peeling back the layers of your thoughts and exposing the vile, verboten interior of your mind.

You close your eyes against it, try to blot out despite the howling gale of treachery inside your chest, seeping dark and oily into your bones.

You can't tell him. You can't tell any of them. These men, your brothers, who have fought by your side and come to your aid, who have stemmed your wounds and been the shield for your spear, they should never know the horrific, undeniable truth inside you.

You can't deny it now, the fatal secret exposed in the light of your own realization. The outline of him, of König lurks in your mind, turning as you watch, offering his voice in a double edged greeting that seeps of gentleness, of a sinister threat.

"Hello, Maus."

He haunts your daydreams, your nightmares. He stalks you across the battlefield, keeps you safe, only to turn around and reach for you, threatening to drag you under into his beckoning embrace.

"I'd never hurt you, Maus."

He refuses to kill you, choosing instead to poison you, the drip of his curiosity treacherously sweet and sour against your tongue. It winds through your veins, tinting the color of your blood into something you can't discern, a syrupy intoxication that leaves you breathless, reeling from his onslaught.

It will kill you.

You'll kill him first.

You turn to Price then, see your conviction reflected in his knowing, piercing stare.

"When do we start?"

----

As the sun sets over the Svislach river, and twilight oozes from dusk to darkness, the stars in the heavens above Minsk twinkle distantly. Here, in the metropolis, the lights of the city drown out the constellations above, obscured by wispy trails of clouds. The lingering taste of snow clings in the air, blank and frigid, a clean slate of which to start anew. Yet the stars shine, pinpricks of light against the dome of growing midnight that stretches gently against the horizon.

A set of eyes watches them from atop the warehouse in the center of the city. Crouched, hidden by the shadows, a single breath fogs, curls away from him, up into the sky. Beside him, a weapon missing a single round chills against the nighttime air.

König’s eyes open under his hood, staring out across the river, to where the lights of the city gleam and glitter like midnight lanterns. The freezing air bites at his bones, but he ignores it, seeking instead to set his sights upwards, into the empyrean atmosphere, lost in thought.

The sound of a single gunshot still echoes in his ears, the crack of thunder, loud and brilliant. It electrifies him, sends a familiar, addictive energy coursing through his veins.

Yet the excitement, the rising crescendo of feverish passion feels dulled now, obscured just as the stars by the veil of something else.

"Hmm."

The sound gusts, billows like steam, floating higher. König’s dark eyes take it in silently, mind twisting, churning with contemplation.

"It's boring." He decides at last, mouth forming the words under his hood. Even then his tongue grazes against a familiar taste, a memory.

The AQ fighter before him jerks, and there's a violent, grotesque spume of blood that erupts from his head. It sprays against the concrete wall to his left, an abstract of violence. Yet his hands remain clean, and after a moment König realizes the origin of the shot came not from him, but up from the sky.

He turns.

Backlit by the sun, he catches the shadow of your form eclipsing the light that peeks over the rooftops. The glint of your scope shines in the afternoon light, even as it points down to him, to the waiting target of his body.

You saved him.

The realization sends a pulsing, intoxicating electricity through him, rising into a wild, untamed smile hidden under his hood.

You saved him.

He sees you tilt away from your scope to regard him, blinking in the brightness, and König feels the desire to reach out, to touchyou rise sharply inside him.

Within him, a memory of a memory, one that glows against his thoughts, bright and soft with hallowed light.

"Your name, Maus."

Then, the sound of your voice.

König blinks, shifting now to try and rid himself of the cold beginning to bleed into his bones. Drowsiness pulls at him, fed by the bite of winter and the many sleepless hours spent hunting his quarry.

"Hmm." He echoes again, the sound dragging in his chest, close to a displeased whine.

"I miss Maus."

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