#& we all know he looks like a wet rat after he’s in the pool | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

all-risejd · 2 years ago

Text

OK Mami

Taken from After Shine. Will soon be posting this in the regular stories, if we haven’t already - this is Rhea/OC. Warnings for accidentally dropping a sub in public, and kissing someone who isn’t your significant other. :)

This is from a kid fic so the kids mentioned are from that.

Danika (November 1st)

Danika could tell as her Jefe, Demi, Jace and Lainey made their way toward the splash zone for the younger kids that Jefe needed a break. “She is like Dominik!” He called as he neared, “Every ride like five times, we are tired.” He motioned to himself and the kids. “It's your turn, mi hija.”

Next to Rey, Demi looked positively gleeful and only a little bit like a wet rat. Danika shook her head softly, “I suppose I can do a couple slides,” She stood from her seat in the barely six inches of water and handed Angel off to Rey. “Nico and Rosa made friends.” She added, amused as both Jace and Lainey made their way to a lounger and dropped on it wi

Instead of answering, Rhea turnthin Rey’s line of sight. The pair clearly water logged and exhausted. It made Danika’s heart full. Rhea offered her hand to Danika, cautiously she laced her fingers into Rhea’s blowing a kiss at Rey and the kids before Rhea tugged her toward the more adult end of the park. “What ride are we doing?”ed and scooped Danika up, tossing her over her shoulder to dart into the fray of people toward the deepest pool - the wave pool. Danika shrieked out loudly as the pair collided with the chlorinated water - it was much colder than the splash pad she had been enjoying with the kids. Teeth chattering as she managed to surface she shot Rhea a ride look, but the older woman was already swimming toward her with a sharp smile on her features.

That smile did something to Danika, made her stomach twist up funny. She shook her head fondly and ducked back under the frigid water hoping to stop the heat racing up her spine. Demi was Dominik’s girlfriend and she was Luis’ girlfriend. But earlier when Rhea had been a few seconds away from drooling over Damian’s marks on her body… something inside of Danika had twisted, flickered on. Rhea was fucking hot and delicious in ways Danika hadn’t been prepared to admit.

Rhea caught her around her middle and hauled her back into her arms, “See that tall one?” She was pointing to a high slide that had stairs going up and basically through the roof of the enclosure around the water park. “Jefe wouldn’t do it with me, so…” She trailed off as she whispered directly into Danika’s ear, “It’s a drop slide.” Danika shivered, anxiety building in her stomach. She didn’t like having control taken away from her unless it was in a safe situation - like with Damian. “Don’t be a chicken.” Rhea all but purred, into her ear.

“Fine, but if I die, tell Luis it was you're fault.” Danika managed, as Demi moved to snag her wrist and pull her out of the deeper water, Danika - who didn’t mind being manhandled by Damian, and apparently Rhea (because Demi wasn’t always a possessive bastard but her character sure as hell was) - allowed her body to be maneuvered and yanked however Rhea felt the need to do it. The two, once free of the pool, found themselves being scrutinized by parents as they made their way around the outskirts of the kid play area headed for the drop-slide.

Perhaps it was Demi’s hold on her wrist, or the marks coating Danika’s torso and neck - either way it was unsettling the way the adults were watching them. “Uh, Dems, why are they looking at us?” Danika whispered.

Rhea frowned, “Either they recognize us and don’t know from where, or they are jumping to conclusions.”

Danika hummed, but tucked herself closer to Rhea, “Let them jump.” She muttered, “I’d prefer it be that one.”

She couldn’t stand the thought of Rey being ambushed by these people when they connected her (Danika Mysterio) and Demi (Rhea Ripley) and started looking for the other members of the Judgment Day, which would eventually le ad them to Rey and his unmistakable tattoos across his chest. She flicked her gaze to Demi, who looked just as unsettled, but continued on her path up. Just like with Damian, Danika didn’t want the world to take away their little slivers of peace.

They were halfway up the slide when a teenage boy stopped them, Danika felt her heart drop, but instead of calling them out (or mentioning their stage names) he cocked his head to the side and looked at Danika’s neck, “You put those on her?” He asked Rhea.

Demi was gone, and the Rhea persona was in full force as she moved uncomfortably into the boy's face, “If I did?” She snarled, Danika immediately tucked around him.

“Just wanted to high-five you, she’s hot.” The boy said, his voice cracking as he swallowed nervously, and tried to step away from Rhea, only to be caught by the railing. Danika snickered, but loosened her grip on Rhea’s midsection. Rhea gazed down at her for a moment, looking for permission, Danika shrugged then winked, Rhea offered the boy her hand in a high five, he eagerly jumped for it, the little shit - he knew exactly who they were, he lowered his voice, “Nice to meet you Rhea Ripley, Danika Mysterio.” He kept his voice even lower, “Tell me are you guys poly or like, just fucking with each other?”

Rhea snorted, “I’m with Dominik, she’s with Damian.”

He looked like he didn’t believe her, but nodded his head anyway, “Nice to meet you both.” With that he turned from them and moved down the way they’d just come up.

Danika watched him go down, “Think he’s going to tell anyone he met us?”

“Probably, he might catch us later for pics.” She shrugged, “Come on, mamacita, we have a slide to do.”

Danika groaned in frustration, she’d sort of hoped Demi had forgotten about that, even as the taller woman took off up the stairs ahead of them, begrudgingly she followed, anxiety rising in her chest. “I don’t know if I can do this.” Danika muttered, unsure.

“What does Luis call you?” Rhea asked as they climbed higher.

“What do you mean?” Danika frowned, but linked their fingers together again, looking for stabilization.

“When he leaves marks on you.” Rhea explained.

“Oh, uh, kitten or gatita, it's Spanish for kitten.” Danika murmured, then blushed as Rhea tried to say gatita multiple times, before finally it sounded right. “Why?”

Without missing a beat - and when they had reached the top of the platform - Rhea turned sharp, to tower over Danika, and looked down at her - shimmering blue eyes met Danika’s hazel - “Gatita, trust me.” Danika felt that heat that she associated with Damian rushed up her spine, “We are going to do this slide.” Rhea bent down, her fingers ghosting over the bruises on Danika’s throat, “And afterward I will reward you.” She promised, “But you have to be good, kitten, you have to be a buena gatita.” Danika felt her control slipping, her head was getting hazy - oh boy, Rhea could control her just like Damian, that might be a problem.

“Ok, Mami.” She whispered, softly, eyes hazing over, glossy.

“Good kitten.” Rhea ruffled her hair then turned to look at the ride attendant, “We are going to go down together, I read that tandem was allowed on the rules below.” The ride attendant didn’t look super stoked about it, but nodded his head, “I know I have to hold her,” Rhea dismissed, already moving them both into the tube, once Rhea was comfortable with how she was standing, she moved to haul Danika into her arms, the younger girl found her back pressed into Rhea’s chest, Rhea’s arms crossing over her breast, “Cross your arms like mine.” Danika did as she asked, her feet dangling, Rhea moved to whisper in her ear, “Good kitten, remember a reward when this is done-” The floor dropped out from under them, and Danika screamed.

She was probably digging her nails into Rhea’s palms, but she didn’t care, she kept her eyes closed, and held on as tight as she could, Rhea’s laughter bounced off the walls around them, and only served to turn her more to jelly. When they hit the horizontal catch at the bottom, before being shot into the maybe four foot deep pool, Danika had never felt so relieved in her life. Rhea untangled them, before ushering them out of the water, Danika was pouting - she’d done the slide now she wanted her reward.

Hazy and a bit overwhelmed, Danika found herself pushed between two hallways, in a gap that seemed to house only flotation devices not in use, then Rhea was pressing in next to her, “Luis is gonna be pissed.” Rhea muttered, but ducked down, to press her lips to Danika’s soft and sweet, before pulling back and trailing kisses down her throat, “But I promised you a reward.” Danika whined out loud as Rhea’s teeth sunk into her pulse point before she started to suck a hickie into her tender flesh, adding her own art to Luis’ master piece.

When she pulled back Danika was still panting and looking at her confused, Rhea Ripley was a menace, but something about her pulled Danika in just like Damian did. Rhea brushed Danika’s hari out of her face, “You need to come back.” She whispered, “I pushed you and I shouldn’t have, you're in subspace, and this isn’t a safe place for that.” Danika registered the words in a haze, her chest rising and falling. She could read the panic in Rhea’s eyes, as the woman gazed down at her, “Fuck you're responsive.” Rhea hissed, before she pressed her thumbs almost painfully into the hollows of Danika’s collarbone - Danika felt her head clear a bit, as Rhea repeated the action, this time digging her nails in enough it made her tear up. “Come on, princess.”

Danika shook her head, the haze starting to clear, she reached for Rhea, who moved a bit closer, letting Danika’s hands fall on her hips, “Dems?” She whispered, softly. “I’m thirsty.”

“I know.” Rhea promised, “But you need to clear your head a bit more, ok? Come the rest of the way back, then I’ll get you some water.” Rhea still looked worried, so Danika closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip, shaking her head roughly, trying to clear the fog - she let out a startled noise as Rhea slapped her side, she shot the taller woman a betrayed look, “There we go.” Rhea hastily moved away, before offering Danika her hand like a life-line, “I need to talk to Luis.” She said evenly, “You're too responsive. He’s going to have to be careful with you.” Danika cocked her head to the side, but let Rhea drag her back to where Rey and the kids were, she let Rhea bully her into a lounger, her legs felt like jello anyway, and she was uncomfortably wet.

When Rhea returned with a bottle of water, she sat at the end of the lounger, studying Danika. Once the water was gone, she cleared her throat, “Maybe some of the tube rides would be better, but not today.” Rhea managed, eyeing her, “I think that one probably was enough.” Danika felt a cold hollowness creeping into her soul.

“I wasn’t good.” She whispered, and felt the first sting of tears - which only added to her confusion.

Rhea backpedaled immediately, “You were too good.” She patted Danika’s thigh, “Remember, you did exactly what I asked you to do, you were a good girl.” She added the last part low, eyes darting between Danika and Rey, carefully. Rey at least seemed to be otherwise busy with the kids. “You scared me a little, I’ve never had anyone fall into subspace so quickly.” Rhea admitted, “It’s… you're sensitive to it, and if the wrong person knew that, you could be in danger.” Rhea explained, “Damian and I won’t let anything happen to you, but… I need to make sure he knows how quickly it happened today, you did nothing wrong.”

Danika tilted her head, “Subspace?”

Rhea sighed, “You two fucked but he didn’t explain shit did he?”

Danika blushed, “I sort of… I uh, I asked but didn’t want like… words?”

Rhea snickered, “Figures, he’s shit at impulse control with you, which is why I’ll talk to him.” She reached forward to rub at Danika’s shoulder, “That probably took a lot out of you, huh?” Danika did feel unreasonably tired, she nodded her head, “Why don’t you relax, ok? I’ll help Jefe with the kids, and you can just… settle.” Danika felt a pout pull at her lips, Rhea looked around to make sure no one was paying that much attention to them, before she ducked forward and gave Danika a chaste kiss, a simple one, “Be good.”

“Kay.” Danika murmured, even as Rhea took the water bottle and stood, she covered Danika up with a towel. Danika watched her join Rey and the kids in the kidzone, whatever conversation between the pair of them was lost on her as she drifted off to sleep, comfortable in her towel and the knowledge that Rhea was looking out for her.

Demi / Rhea

There are certain uncomfortable conversations that happen between Dom’s she supposed, but this one was a bit different. They’d barely gotten back to the rental, Damian had tucked Danika into bed, the girl tired probably from Damian the night before, Finn and her’s great escape, and then the waterpark. “We need to talk.” Rhea knew how that sounded, watched the way Damian’s spine went rigid, the other two on the tour bus peaked up from where they were cleaning the carpet in the living area, “Not you two.” Rhea pointed at Dominik and Finn, “I need to talk to Damian.” She rolled her shoulders, “Now.” She stepped back off the bus, relieved that Rey had agreed to stay and watch the kids for a bit before he headed to his hotel. His flight was leaving later in the evening.

The hanging swing in the backyard seemed like the best place to have this particular meeting, so she led Damian around the side of the house and into the backyard. “What uh, what is up?” Damian asked as Rhea climbed in - still in her half-damp clothes, bathing suit underneath, hair looking like a wet rat. When she said nothing he quickly climbed in, to join her, “You're worrying me here, Rip.”

“I accidentally put Danika in subspace.” There, best to just get it out of the way, and quickly. “I… there was a slide and she was scared, and I chose to use your pet names for her, so I knew there was a chance but she responded quickly, she’s so sensitive to it.” Rhea looked at him, gauging his reaction, “I couldn’t get her back out of it for a few minutes, I kissed her, and I left a hickey on her neck it was a reward for good behavior and I thought that it would bring her out, but it only sent her under further. I had to slap her ribs to get her to finally come back to me… Damian, it’s dangerous to not tell her about subspace.”

Damian was silent for a moment, “She dropped into it a bit last night, but…” He trailed off, “You put her in subspace and are apologizing so it must have scared you, what else is bothering you?”

“She’s so obedient, I know we’d… I know you’d never hurt her.” Rhea winced at the we, she had no claim to Danika, not really. “But in the wrong hands, if the wrong person… If any of our old play-partners knew how quickly she went under… I mean even Dominik’s not that responsive and he’s a sub, no doubt.”

Damian frowned, “We didn’t talk about it, but I stayed in control last night, took care of her.” He admitted clearly thinking about the implications, “I think I need to talk to her about contracts - I don’t wanna make one with her, calm down.” Rhea had raised up ready to strike him, “I need a negotiation list.” He admitted, as he dropped back against the swing, “And I need to figure out the best ways to handle her drops, because you're right, if you could drop her in public with just words, we are going to have to pay attention.” There was fear on his face and Rhea could understand that Danika was innocent in most things, even though she had kids, and had grown up largely a Mysterio.

“Are you mad at me?” Rhea asked softly, worried about the answer.

“For what?” Damian asked, as he hauled her down to lay against his side.

“Because I put you're girlfriend in subspace.” Rhea whispered, as she rested her head over his heart.

“No, mi hermoso monstruo, I’m not mad at you.” Damian promised, “Not for the kiss or hickey either, you were taking care of her.” He hummed, “I should be jealous, but I’m just glad you were able to get her back out of subspace, can you imagine trying to explain that to Rey?” Rhea frowned, she hadn’t really thought about how problematic it could have been, not in the moment, just that they didn’t need anyone to see Danika looking fucked out like she had.

Rhea snuggled down, and sigh, “Do you need me to dig out one of the older contracts from when I was first starting?”

Damian thought about it for a moment, “Yeah, we should probably do a check list. You and Dominik should also do one, we could make it a team building activity and give Finn one?”

Rhea punched him in the side, “We are not going to ask Finn about his sexual preferences, yet.”

Damian snickered, “Did you know that Danika was originally from Alabama?”

Rhea pushed herself up to look at him, “What?”

“Yeah, she was born in Mobile, lived there until she was eight, then her family moved to San Diego. Running from her biological father. I asked Dominik a bit about the story she’s not willing to say.” He cleared his throat, “She was friendless and alone for three years, before she and Dominik became inseparable. The rest is history, but she’s got an older brother Theo somewhere out there in the world, her dads in prison, and last they heard from her mother she was strung out on drugs in Santa Barbara.”

Rhea frowned, “Danika really had nothing from the start, no wonder she fights for everything she wants.”

The pair both grew silent for a long few moments before Dominik started screaming about Damian not helping them clean up like he was supposed to. “You're brat is really getting out of hand.” Damian teased.

Rhea rolled her eyes, “Go dom him, I’m tired, you're kitten stressed me out today.” She groaned.

Damian sat up, pushing her off unceremoniously hard, “DOMINIK I AM TALKING TO YOU'RE MAMI, BE PATIENT, MOCOSO.” There was an indigent squawk from the direction of the bus and a scandalized, I am not a brat, Luis, that had Rhea and Damian both laughing before Damian followed it up with a loud, “No me hagas azotarte, cachorro.” As he stood bones popping, Rhea raised her eyebrow in question, her brain was too tired to sort out the Spanish, “I told him not to make me spank him.” He dipped down to kiss Rhea’s head, “Later, Rip. I have to discipline your child.”

Rhea rolled her eyes as she watched him walk away. Now she had to find a copy of her kink negotiation list, and that was problematic cause she hadn’t seen one since before she and Jackson got together. Maybe there was a copy in her email somewhere? She reached for her phone and groaned, realizing she left it on the counter, she was too exhausted to move, so she curled up in the swing and snuggled down in the fading scents of Damian’s cologne and Danika’s perfume, there were undertones of Finn’s body wash, she frowned at the lack of Dominik’s scent, but nuzzled down anyways, letting the warm Texas sun lull her to sleep.

#rhea ripley fanfic #rhea ripley x reader #Rhea ripley x oc #damian priest x reader #damian priest x oc #the judgment day fanfic

113 notes · View notes

kindnessisweakness2 · 1 year ago

Text

Perfect Chaos - Part 9

“I should explain everything to you guys. I owe you that. Especially you Angel. I would hate you to think i was leading you on. I would never do that.” Riley sat around the fire pit as she spoke to them all. Angel, Lina, Coco and Ez all looked at her with worried expressions. She needed them to understand. She needed them to know why she was so worried for Angel’s safety. “I know things i shouldn’t know. Like club business. I know your all in the shit because you were running coke for Galindo and one of the shipments got stolen. I know Galindo thinks theres a rat at your table because it was BTT that jacked his shit. BTT are guns for hire basically, and Miguel thinks it was a Mayan that organised the hit. I know that by next Monday Miguel wants someone in his Pew to make up for the mistake.” Coco, Ez and Angel couldnt help but share glances of worry between them. “I know all about Ez and Emily’s old relationship, that its a sore spot for Galindo. That means Miguel already hates Ez and because your brothers he also dislikes Angel. I also know about the Rebels and the hate their pushing for the Cartel.” Coco placed his beer on the table and leaned his elbows on his knees. “You get all that from Jake?” Riley nodded. “Guess who the rat at your table is?” Riley sipped her drink and continued to fill everyone in. “He’s in Miguels pocket. Jake’s his ear in the Templo. Miguel wants rid of the MC and Ez dead. His wife clearly cant let go of her feelings and that burns Miguel. Jake set up the hit for Galindo’s shipment to start all this drama. Jake wants power and control. Just being patched doesnt give him that anymore.” Riley shook her head and sighed. "He knows I don't want to be with him anymore. I've tried to leave him before. That didn't go down well. He beat me so bad I couldn't get out of bed for days. Told everyone I was sick and he was taking care of me. Told me if I left him, he'd tell Miguel Coco was working with the rebels against him. He’d be dead and Lina would be devastated. I couldn't do that to any one. I don't want anyone hurt because of me.' Tears Welled in Riley’s eyes as Angel pulled her close. “This is why we have to be careful. I dont want him to come after you Angel.” Angel shook his head in disagreement. “I meant what i said. He’s not hurting you again.” Riley rolled her eyes at the stubborn man. “And i meant what i said. Im not letting any of you get hurt because of me." Lina leaned forward clearly frustrated. She couldn't stand Jake from the moment her friend started dating him. And she couldn't stand that he had used Riley's love for her and Coco to manipulate her. "Look how about we try and enjoy the next few days here. No Jake. No Stress. We will work out a plan before we head home." Everyone agreed, including Riley eventually.

An hour later and they had all moved indoors. The atmosphere was different though. Instead of depression and worry hanging heavy in the air, laughter now filled the indoor pool area they were all gathered in. Lina and Coco were all over each other in the pool, play fighting and making out. Ez was lay back on one of the pool chairs reading a book. And that left Angel and Riley down the furthest end of the pool. She would be lying if she said he didnt make her nervous. She was convinced that he could hear her heart beating ridiculously fast in her chest and she was trying to focus on keeping her breathing even. " Your beautiful." Angels soft voice made her snap from her thoughts. Beautiful? She was far from it. A ugly bruise spread on the one side of her face, her hair soaking wet and the oversized t-shirt she wore to swim in made her feel far from pretty. She smiled softly at him as her head turned to look at Lina who sat on Coco's shoulders, giggling as she covered his eyes with her hands. Now She was what you considered beautiful. Her tanned skin, long legs and wild curly hair had loads of guys falling at her feet. But she met her match in Coco and Riley was genuinely happy for them. Soft hands on her hips, again pulled her from her thoughts. "You don't see it. How amazing you are." Riley smiled at Angel, lifting her arms over his broad shoulders. "Thank you" she spoke softly, almost as if she spoke too loud he would disappear. Angels brows furrowed in confusion as he looked down at his girl. "For making me feel safe. For caring." Riley explained as she leaned into him fully. Angels heart lurched in his chest at her words. She really did feel like she was on her own. That no one cares. That she had to be strong. Angel gently leaned her against the side of the pool, her legs coming up to wrap around his hips. "I meant what I said Ry. I'll always keep you safe." Riley couldn't explain the emotions that Angel put through her. He really was incredible. Not being able to resist, she leaned forward and captured him in a deep kiss. Her hands cupping his face, his moving lower in the water to rest on her bum. The feel of his hands sliding underneath her shirt and up her back made Riley groan. Everywhere he touched made her skin tingle with excitement and warmth. She wanted him. She wanted him so bad, worse than she has ever wanted anyone before. None of this seemed real to her. That someone like Angel would want someone like her. He could have any body he wanted, but here he was kissing the life out of the girl nobody in their right mind would look twice at. "We should stop, it's not just us...." she spoke against his lips, inbetween kisses. " No one's paying attention baby." Angel trailed kisses down her neck, fingers hooking in the sides of her underware. "I could take you right here against the edge of the pool and not one of them idiots would notice." God, soaking wasn't the word. A gasp left her mouth as his hands moved lower. He filled her senses completely. She felt love drunk already, and it didn't make sense to her. How he could make her feel so much in such little time. Jake had never and could never make her feel this way. So wanted, so beautiful. "I have a better idea." She kissed the shell of his ear as she spoke quietly. Angel smiled as she drew him into another kiss before lifting herself out of the pool. Holding out her hand with a smile, she waited for Angel to get out or the pool before leading him towards the hallway. Lina locking eyes eith her as they passed a grin spreading on her face.

"Ooh go get it girl!! Make most of your alone time!! Don't do anything I wouldn't!!" Lina called out to them followed by lots of giggles. All Riley could think about was enjoying every moment with angel she could because as much as she hated to admit it, she knew there was trouble brewing and it was heading straight for her..

#mayans imagine #mayans mc #mayans mc imagine #angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes fic #angel reyes imagine #angel reyes

26 notes · View notes

liviavanrouge · 10 months ago

Text

Defeat

Nilo slipped his robes off, passing them to Silvia a scowl on his face, rain soaking his clothes. "Remember last time you did one of these, Nilo?"Owen grinned flexing his hands. Nilo stayed silent, Maleficia coming up beside him. "Don't fight, we have enough evidence to throw him into the darkest prison we have.."Queen Maleficia says. "I'm ordering you not to!" Nilo looked down at her, a small smile on his face. "You know I always followed your orders because I loved you...and I still do, but this is an order I cannot follow.."Nilo says. He walked away, Owen grinning at him. He stayed silent, his nails sharpening as he stared the grinning man down. "Wanna use a weapon, or should we fight like animals?"Nilo asks. "It'd be rude of me to have the sudden advantage with any kind of weapon"Owen chuckled. "So it's an animal fight, bring it Council Head"Owen says. Nilo nodded and lunged at Owen with frightening speed, slashing the man across his cheek, shocking Owen.

Thea stared at the fight worriedly, perched on one of the tower spires, Lilia floating just below her. "Will he win?"Baul asks. "Yes...he will"Lilia says knowing how resilient Nilo could be. "Nilo is a Rat Fae after all, and they always find a way to get on their feet and fight back"Lilia adds. A shriek of fury came from Owen, trying to claw at Nilo's eyes but Nilo kept the mans hands away from his face, nails slashing rapidly at the furious mans chest. Owen slipped on the wet stones, falling flat onto his back and rolled out of the way of Nilo's attack. "Wait!" Nilo snarled at him, his claw raised. "What?!"Nilo demands. Lilia perked up, noticing that Owen managed to get a hit in. A scar on Nilo's shoulder was bleeding heavily, staining the mans clothes. "I yield...."Owen mutters. Nilo glared at him but lowered his hand, his eyes narrowed. "Leave...and never come back..."Nilo commands. He turned away, Owen getting up. "NILO!!"Queen Maleficia gasped.

Nilo turned sharply, red rocks filling his vision. He yelled in alarm, covering his eyes with his hand. Thea gasped, her eyes wide. "CHEATER!!"Baul yells. "Baul...it's a battle to the death, one where Owen is fighting of course he'd cheat.."Lilia mutters. Owen tackled Nilo down, keeping the man down as he got up, slashes appearing across the struggling mans body. "COME ON, NILO!! GET HIM!!"Silcon yells the other council members joining in, cheering their head on. Nilo snarled, forcing himself to his feet. He slammed Owen into the ground, putting all his weight on the male, forcing him to let go. Owen leaped to his feet, Nilo dodging his incoming attacks with ease. "Did you think blinding me would work?!"Nilo demands slapping Owen's hand away. "I knew I'd loose my sight one day so I trained to fight without it"Nilo says ducking underneath Owen's elbow. "Lilia!"Baul gasped.

Lilia turned his head, his eyes widening in alarm at the sight of Livia and Sebek peeking out of the rooftop doorway. Nilo ducked down and slammed Owen down, before releasing him, stepping away. He paced around, silently mocking Owen before lunging at him with his claw raised. The two hit the ground, Owen kicking Nilo right in the stomach, throwing him off. Both got to their feet, Nilo's claw slashing Owen's forehead, blood pooling at their feet. The faes hands flew up, grabbing Owen's wrists, the two tumbling backwards causing the crowd to part making way for them. Nilo's feet kicked Owen off, sending the man neck fist into the stone ground. "Yield..."Nilo commands coldly. "Nilo, call a timeout, you're bleeding!"Queen Maleficia orders. Nilo shook some of the blood off, and turned away. Owen got to his feet, lunging at the man, Nilo glancing back having already anticipated this.

He whipped around, his teeth sharpening and sunk them into the mans throat, his claws swiping at his sides. Owen screamed in pain, Nilo clawing at his face, blinding the mans left eye. He slipped and fell over to his side, hands grabbing his hair. "Should've taken the easy way out you idiot"Nilo scolds. Lilia landed behind Livia and Sebek, shielding their eyes as Nilo snapped Owen's neck, twisting it to an uneasy angle. He stumbled, Silvia and Bronze keeping him standing. Thea hurried over, carrying herbal plants, pressing some moist moss against his wounds, tying willow vines to keep the moss there. "Thanks.."Nilo sighed. "You're an idiot!"Queen Maleficia scolds. "Only your idiot.."Nilo snorts smiling. "But, we have something else to take care of..."Nilo says. He yelled in pain, Thea smoothing goldenrod pollen over his burned eyes. "You rest, I'll take care of it, Aural returned earlier today..."Queen Maleficia insists. "Very well"Nilo chuckled wincing a little.

@queen-of-twisted

9 notes · View notes

myveryownfanfiction · 2 years ago

Text

18+ MINIRS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

AN: maxim with soulmate and body issues won so that’s the first one! So reader and maxim don’t know they are soulmates. Each soulmate has a tattoo of their pet name over their heart. It’s post battle where drake, Abigail, maxim and reader basically live together. Balthazar and Veronica have gone off who knows where so reader turns to maxim to finish their training. I have two of the tattoos mentioned, the Disney one and the one on the left wrist. The others r fun ideas my friends and I have come up with and with me working cons, who the hell knows they might become a thing. Let me know if u get the reference with the soulmate tattoos. Enjoy! (Sorry not sorry it’s so long)

warnings: body issues (reader and kinda based off my own), drake is a dick, swimming pool, reader has tattoos

I hugged my stomach as I walked over to where Abigail was lounging on a lawn chair. She smiled at me as she waved. I smiled back, glad that someone else wasn’t swimming. Sitting down next to her, drake made his way over to us. His hair was plastered to his forehead and he was dripping wet. I bypassed a hug and instead patted his shoulder.

“No thanks stone.” I laughed as he pouted. “Maybe once you stop looking like a drowned rat.” Drake rolled his eyes and motioned to my outfit.

“nice dubs.” His eyes raked me over and I was suddenly more self conscious than I was when I had put on the muscle tee and basketball shorts. I rubbed the back of my neck as Maxim walked over. I blushed slightly at seeing the man without a shirt on but quickly covered it by turning away to grab the lotion Abigail was holding out to me. “Where’s your suit?” Maxim held his hand out for the lotion as I was about to squirt some into my hand. Slowly handing it over, he did it instead. I flushed a deeper red as he slowly worked it onto my skin, covering my tattoos perfectly. I tried to keep my eyes away from his chest, his soulmate tattoo taunting me every time I looked.

“I uh…” I bit my lip and turned away from the males. “Don’t have one.” Abigail watched me as I tried to look anywhere but at them. “Haven’t had one in a while.” Drake scoffed.

“You should have said darling.” I winced at his nickname for me. “I would have bought you one. Or better yet had one tailor made.”

“It’s alright drake. No need to worry. I’m fine.” I finally worked up the courage to look at him while maxim finished with the lotion. “Honest.” Looking unconvinced, drake nodded and gently smacked maxims shoulder.

“If you say so darling. Let’s head back to the pool yeah?” Drake started off towards the deep end before doing a cannonball. Maxim sat beside me for a minute.

“Are you sure you don’t want to swim?” He asked softly. I nodded. “I can summon a suit if you need one.” I smiled at him.

“Honestly I’m fine maxim.” He nodded before squeezing my hand and following drake. Abigail sat up and caught my eye. I scoffed and shook my head.

“It’s because of your tattoo isn’t it?” She asked.

“Abigail don’t start this again.” I whined. “For the last time, it’s nothing to do with the tattoo. It has to do with me.” She looked at me and shrugged.

“What about you? You’re fine far as I can tell.” She smirked at me. “Aside from not telling Mr. Horvath how you feel.” I shoved her and laid out on the lawn chair, arms crossed.

“That wouldn’t matter one way or another because he’s not my soulmate.” I grumbled. I’d seen his tattoo. I knew that if the reference was what I thought, it should match. But I was too nervous to take that risk. “And I may look fine Abigail but it’s a mental thing.” She dropped all sense of teasing and went to put her hand on my shoulder. “Im fine. Seriously.” She nodded and went back to tanning while I watched the boys. Not long after, we all decided to pack up and leave. The shared penthouse was a nice respite after the day at the pool.

A week later, I came home from classes to find it deserted. In the middle of the living room was a giant pool. Looking around the room, my eyebrows furrowed when I didn’t see anyone.

“Drake? Abigail?” I called out. Turning around, maxim emerged from the kitchen, wearing swim trunks and an open button up. I adverted my eyes from his chest quickly. “Maxim? What is this?” He smiled softly at me and gestured to the couch that was still present. Sitting down, I tossed my backpack at my feet.

“I saw how uncomfortable you were at the pool. I thought that maybe this would make you more comfortable.” I blushed at the thoughtfulness but my stomach clenched at the thought of having to explain why I was uncomfortable to the man I was crushing on.

“It…it really isn’t….” I rubbed the back of my neck and sighed. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and rushed out my explanation. “It isn’t really the pool. Public or here. I don’t like how I look in a bathing suit.” Maxim reached over and squeezed the hand that was clenching on my leg. “I never have and I just figured now that I was old enough, I’d just avoid the pool but all of you enjoy it so much I just went along with it.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Maxim breathed out. “You know we would have found something else to do if we knew it bothered you so much.” I shook my head, cutting him off. I finally opened my eyes and lost my breath at the look on maxims face.

“You guys enjoyed it. I didn’t want to take that away. Besides I like tanning and playing volleyball or helping the kids make sandcastles. I make do.” He squeezed my hand again and I almost felt like crying.

“Then now is probably a bad time to mention that I went out and found a suit that I thought might make this better…” he muttered. Laughing lightly, I shook my head.

“You went shopping for a bathing suit for me? I wish I had been there to see that.” Maxim rolled his eyes, but smiled at me.

“Abigail might have already let slip how you felt…” he broke off when he saw me wince. “I thought maybe a pair of trunks like those shorts you wear and a top like the one you wore last time would help.” He shrugged. “They’re on your bed if you want to try. It’s just me. Drake and Abigail are with Dave.” He assured me. “They won’t be back for several hours.” Maxim added. I smiled sadly at him.

“I appreciate it. I really do. But I don’t think I’m ready yet.” Maxim nodded. “I’ll sit at the edge of the pool though.” I got up and went to my room to change while maxim got in the pool. Changing, I eyed the suit on my bed. He was right. It looked like my normal outfit. But tighter. Shuddering, I put them in my drawer and headed out.

“You alright?” Maxim asked as he swam to the edge where I was sitting down. I nodded. He reached out and squeezed my knee. “You sure?” I nodded again.

“Yeah I’m alright.” I smiled at him and laughed as he crossed his arms on the edge, resting his chin on them and looking up at me. Trailing a finger over my arm, maxim hummed a tune under his breath. “You can ask about them you know. I may bite drakes head off but I won’t bite yours.” Maxim chuckled and nodded.

“Tell me about them.” He started. “Do they mean something to you?” I nodded.

“Most of them. Some I like to keep secret.” I rubbed my wrist and shrugged. “A couple are shared with others.” Maxim pointed to the one on my bicep.

“What about this one?” He asked, gently tracing it.

“That one is my first. Got it when I was 21. Kind of an act of defiance. It’s just my favorite Disney character. Nothing special. Just got it because I could and I wanted a tattoo.” Maxim laughed and pointed to the one on my inner left wrist. I shook my head. “Sorry. Not that one.”

“understandable. I don’t talk about mine that often either.” Maxim squeezed my hand. “Then how about this one?” He touched the one just under my elbow.

“Old English. It’s a line from hamlet. ‘This above all to thine own self be true.’ You know that’s my favorite play.” I flushed slightly, knowing maxim had gone out of his way to get me as much as he could from a few different productions. He nodded and smiled at me sweetly. I cursed my heart for fluttering at the look. “I share it with this actor I used to work convention with. He actually took me to the parlor and sat with me.” I laughed. Maxim’s smile faltered for a second before he tapped the other one on my forearm.

“Looks like it was painful to sit through.” I shrugged and shook my head.

“Nightmare on elm street is my favorite horror movie. I designed it. Knew it’d be a lot. Wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.” Maxim hummed in approval. His eyes drifted up to my shoulder and I laughed. “Oh yeah. The intertwined hearts. That’s from Nikki sixx and Tommy lee. The guys from Motley Crue. The hearts are from them and the peace sign in the larger heart was Nikki’s idea. Peace and love.” It was maxims turn to laugh.

“You got the terror twins to design you a tattoo? Bloody hell luv. That’s insane.” I laughed as I nodded.

“Yeah. I still don’t understand how I got those two to come up with that. But they did. And I was their willing canvas.” I shrugged as maxims eyes drifted. It came across as him looking at the graphic on my shirt but I knew what he was really looking for. My eyes were constantly drawn to the same area on his own chest. “Right. You want to know about that one.” I sighed. Maxim shrugged.

“Only if you want to tell me.” He caught my eyes drifting down to his chest and he blushed. “Sometimes I wish it wasn’t there. It’d be easier to hide.” He chuckled. I nodded. “Mon cher.” He scoffed. “Who the hell is going to call me that?” I blushed and rubbed the back of my neck again.

“Well who the hell is going to call me cara mia?” I offered, gently dropping what my tattoo said. Maxim stills as I pull my shirt collar down, exposing the fine lettering. His hand travels down to his own chest, running his fingers over the words carefully. “It’s like the world is playing some sick joke on me. Basically telling me I’ll find my…” maxim surged out of the water and kissed me. Water dripped onto my lap as I cupped his face. Maxim pulled away, dropping back into the water before grabbing the ledge and exiting it entirely. Sitting next to me, he kissed me again. I ran my fingers through his wet hair, tugging gently as I succumbed to the action.

“Cara mia.” He mused. I chuckled, tracing my hand down the side of his face.

“Mon cher.” I smiled. “Maybe I’ll wear that suit for you one day.” Maxim chuckled.

“just for me?” He asked. I nodded.

“Just for you.” I traced his beard. “If anyone can help me work through my body image issues, it’ll be my soulmate.” Maxim hummed before pulling me in for another kiss.

#maxim horvath #maxim horvath x reader #maxim horvath fanfic #maxim horvath fanfiction #maxim horvath imagine #alfred molina #alfred molina imagine #alfred molina x reader #alfred molina fanfiction

42 notes · View notes

the0ldmann · 2 years ago

Text

Headcannon time! (I'm sorry, I never know if it's one word or two-)

(Reminder that ''Something's Wrong with Sunny Day Jack" is an adult only fandom- minors and ageless blogs will be blocked on sight!)

I was just thinking about the 4 seasons earlier- some coworkers were talking about their favourites and why they were their favourites. So naturally, when I was on my own again, I had to wonder if *any* of our boys had favourites. Because nothing gets me through a rough workday better than thinking about these guys- *ahem*

Yes that's right though- *any* of them. I know I've typically only written stuff for the most beloved of clowns, but this seemed easy enough an exercise I thought I'd give it a go for all of them. So without further ado, here we go!

Joeseph:

Winter. He wanted to say summer, he really did. But with all the painful memories of school being out, having to deal with his "home life" (that let's remember was bad enough he ran away), and then struggling in the summer heat while undoubtedly homeless for a bit after having run away... It seems he was in the southern continental United States in the 80s during this point in his life. Winter wouldn't have been too ungodly cold at the time, so that might have been fairly okay to deal with. But summer? Summer heat would have still been unbearable even then. Not to mention if he had to dumpster dive for food, it would all rot quicker, and excessive sweating from the heat would have made him stink... Winter time meant school, and therefore getting away from 'home.' It also meant an ever so slightly more comfortable temperature-wise time while stuck on the streets (though I'm sure it still sucked, the heat of summer makes things 10x worse and so winter at least would bring mild relief in that regard). Once he gets the acting gig, starts turning his life around, and starts making friends, then there's also the holidays to contend with. Sure, the stress on family is painful I imagine. But if he had some genuinely good friends like some of his cast mates (other than Jean) seem to be? I inagine they might have invited him over for a friend get-together. Or they'd visit him where he's staying and bring a casserole and maybe a rotisserie chicken. They'd look out for him. And you can't tell me that wouldn't make the holiday season just a little more enjoyable for him. (Oh gods now I'm thinking about an impromptu friends-giving with all the cast members at like, a hotel Joeseph is staying at, I can't, who's cutting onions-)

Jean:

Autumn. Hear me out- he strikes me as pretentious af. A chunk of the content I see for him seems to have the fandom agree. Definitely full of himself with that ego he seems to carry around. So I'm going to go out on a limb and say that spring, summer, and winter try to, in his mind, hinder his perfect appearance/environment and so he hates them. You can't tell me he likes being uncomfortable, literally everything we know about him screams "if I'm not comfy 100% of the time I'm going to make it everyone's problem." Winter is too cold for him. Dressing trailer? No no no, he wants a room in the studio itself- a trailer would be far too cold. He'd shiver nonstop, ruin the makeup, and he just doesn't seem like the type to enjoy wearing fifty layers to keep warm. Summer is too hot. He's sweating everything off. While he may seem like someone to take pride in the way he looks, I imagine he only likes to do that in his own time, preferable at a pool, and not because he's sweat through the third costume since noon and has had to strip down yet again. Not to mention heat does tend to make people more aggressive... Spring? Too wet. He absolutely likes to keep himself looking perfectly styled, and the drowned rat look rain gives is not desireable to him. Spring is well known for its rain after all. So all that leaves is autumn! Temperate weather, not a whole lot of rain, gentle breezes, and some great fashions are fall perfect. He was wearing a turtleneck sweater in the one picture, wasn't he? Turtlenecks- perfect for fall weather and perfect for looking sharply dressed but also somewhat casual at the same time. That's it. He cares way too much about his appearance.

Shaun:

Autumn. He's absolutely an autumn fan. How could he not be? The weather is getting cooler so it's perfect for sweaters and cuddles. Spooky month (October) is in autumn and we all know he's a big horror fan. It's also the start of the holiday season, and for someone so willing to go out of his way to help and even just spend time with those he cares about? Regardless of what other autumn holidays besides Halloween he may or may not celebrate, you can't tell me he wouldn't take advantage to spend more time with those he cares about.

Jack:

All of them. No no, I literally mean it. Sure it may seem like a cop-out, but do you really think he could actually pick a favourite? One he likes more than the others? You would think summer would be his favourite- the clearest skies for the sunniest days are in summer and lords know Sunny Day is in the man's name... But I genuinely think he's such a positive and brighter-side-of-things kinda guy that he would say he loves them all.

Summer? Perfect for camping, going to the beach, enjoying ice cream for two but sharing one spoon...

Spring? The start of new life! Flowers are in bloom, animals are making babies (and whether or not he could make babies with you, he certainly wouldn't mind an excuse for the exercise), and the spring rains really do carry a freshness to them that rain during the rest of the year just does not have.

Autumn? Starting to get cooler, so it's perfect for bundling you up, especially in his jacket. Get cozy on the hillside as you stargaze at night...

Winter? (Assuming there will be snow.) Better like curling up under a blanket with him by the fireplace! Only after a long day of building a snowman with him, or after having enjoyed a lovely carriage ride through the park. Plus with numerous holidays coming up (pick your flavor), why wouldn't he want to spend as much time as possible with those he cares about? If its a holiday with any sort of gift giving or special foods/baked goods, surely you wouldn't go without gifting him a plate of his favourite chocolate chip cookies, would you?

Ian:

Spring. No, I wasn't influenced by the bunny costume. ... Okay I absolutely was. But I can still justify this! He seems like, if Jean is his dad like I've seen some people theorize, then I imagine he'd take after dislike of being uncomfortable and so that would rule out summer and winter. He also only has one childhood friend, so school had to be relatively rough to deal with. He had someone to hang with over the summer at least, but autumn is the start of school season. Therefore, autumn is the start of dealing with school bullies again. Spring would herald a soon-to-be end to the school season, with decent temps, and considering the fact he's a weeb- cherry blossom season. Again, spring is also the season of new beginnings. While we don't know when Ian and MC move in the game, spring almost seems like the perfect time for it to happen. Right after graduating, get away from toxic family as quickly as possible, and all the symbolism with them starting a new chapter... It just fits. And if Jean is his dad, spring could be viewed the opposite of his, while also being quite similar in a way- similar temps being the most obvious similarity.

Nick:

Summer. He is an influencer after all. What better season for doing all the fun things and showing them off, but the good ol' summer season? Water parks, camping trips, outlet malls, visits to the dog park, beach visits, museum trips, vacationing to other places in general... Also, it's so hot out, it's the perfect excuse to go to your fav local froyo place and try asking out the cutie behind the counter!

(I do not codone this behaviour of Nick's btw, please don't ask out people while they're at work, it's uncomfy af-)

Bonus Barry:

(Yeah I'm adding Barry for the all of probably three people that simp for him here.)

Summer. It's probably his favourite but not for the most obvious of reasons. Of course his business of frozen treats will be booming during the hottest season of the year- raking in the dough and boosting his ego for being "such a good manager to keep the ship running so smooth during such a busy time!" But if Sauce wasn't totally joking around when they said Barry had "never forgotten about you" in that ominous looking text... Well, what better season than summer to make your favourite worker sweat and squirm under your gaze? What better time than summer to leave them panting and breathless with your incessant phone calls demanding attention unpaid overtime that leaves them too exhausted to utter a word in protest? Plus, bodies rot and decay faster in the heat...

(okay but for real I hate Barry, I've had mamagers like Barry, I hope he gets some comeuppance be it either death or getting demoted or just having to do our job in our stead- and btw watching a manager like that get forced by their supervisor to come help you in a rush and have to ask you what to do and take direction from you? Good gods it happened to me once but it was worth the world to me heeheeheeheehee-)

(Holy shit this was long af- way longer than I intended, whoops! Hope ya'll enjoyed though! Also hope the formatting is okay as soon as I hit post cause I did this all on mobile-)

#minors dni #ageless blogs dni #sunny day jack #sdj #something's wrong with sunny day jack #swwsdj #headcannons

17 notes · View notes

maybe-your-left · 3 years ago

Note

A angsty story with Kylo

Have You Had Enough?

Kylo Ren x Reader

TW/CW: canon typical violence, angst, hurt feelings, we are not a couple, unrequited love, master/apprentice, kylo is PISSED, meanie meanie, SPOILER there will be NO reconciliation ;)

credit to @rhinobeetl for this beautiful art of the goth boyfriend himself. let me know if you want me to remove the picture!

“Is that all you have?”

“Haven’t I taught you better than that?”

“You’re begging to be killed!”

“Pay attention, you worthless little rat!”

“Please…” your voice croaks through your blood-chapped lips. Cracking at the corners as you bow onto the wet ground, tainted with your sweat and tears.

Your entire being ached, chest hitching over and over as you tried to recenter yourself. Balance, focus, something, to remember that you were supposed to be hitting back. But today he wasn’t going easy, no this wasn’t training.

It was punishment.

For what you’d done.

“Get up.”

You flinch at his sharp tone, mask long forgotten on the floor. No weapons, nothing but his leather gloves fists impacting with your skull.

Gravel crunched as the toes of his boots squared your heaving shoulders. You couldn’t do it, you were so tired. It hurt to love, you couldn’t stand up again and try to parry his attacks. There was no use-you sniffled a loud ball of snot, gasping before slowly glancing at his ankles.

“Please, Kylo,” you wanted to reach out, grasp at him. Feel the black fabric beneath your fingertips, dig your nails into the alabaster flesh that you had tried so hard to bruise like he had to you.

He scoffed, moving the toe of his left boot under your chin. Another ugly sob fell from your mouth as you squeezed your eyes shut, “Pathetic.”

You braced yourself, knowing he wasn’t done. The swift kick of his foot to the square of your chest is like water rushing through your burst eardrums. Being shoved repeatedly under the surface over and over.

A gloved hand wrangled a knot in your blood-caked hair, yanking you up on your feet. You cracked open an eye, not finding the rage you felt under your skin. Instead, you were met with something much scarier.

Ren was bored-eyes glassy and dull.

Barely looking at you like you had a purpose, he no longer cares if you lived after this. And you wanted that back, you wanted the anger that sparked behind those auburn eyes.

Those same eyes that watched you in battle, begging for you to stay focused. For you to remember to come back to him.

“Hit me,” his voice cracked through your memory, your eyes refocusing on the man before you. Waiting, an eyebrow cocked as he shook you again. “Go on, you know you’re not allowed to give up when an enemy is attacking you. So hit me.”

You shook your head, a pitiful no falling. You couldn’t do it, not when you knew how little you meant. Never enough, “I cant…”

Ren snarled in your face, another harsh shake, “Do it, you spineless little rat-I know you want to.” He stared, jaw wiggling from side to side. But you didn’t move, couldn't. Even if you truly wanted to, letting your guard completely down.

“Haven’t you had enough?”

Your voice caught him off guard, almost recoiling from the sandpaper texture that rolled off your tongue. The same tongue that once laved at his own, lips attaching to wounds in an attempt to heal…

“Have you?”

Your hand shook as you raised it to your scalp, twitching to touch the leather. He let go of you like you were the plague, dropping on your knees in a high-pitched squeal of pain.

Propping yourself on your palms, you blinked down. A string of saliva dripping on the ground, pooling with the rest of your mess. Ren stepped back, “Get up,” his voice was softer.

You barely made it on your two feet, wanting to collapse into his arms. They used to shoot out to catch you, but not anymore. Never again-never.

“Yes,” you whispered, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand.

“I’ve had enough.”

———

YOU ASKED FOR ANGST. wanna be on my taglist click on the form bitch...

TAGLIST 2022 FORM: @finn-ray-nal-beads @thepalaceofmelanie @moonyscardigans @ghoulian13 @botnasty @xxgarden @pop-rocks-and-skittles @historyandfandoms50 @doggycompiex @daydreamsofren @millenialcatlady @ladyjade @mariesackler @eagerforhoney @celestiasin @empressofalderaan

Here's the link to my mega Masterlist for all your stalking needs.

#dead end #kylo ren #commander ren #canon kylo ren #adam driver #adamdriver #ask fridays #12.10.2021 #tw:angst #tw:mean kylo #tw: mention of violence #i <3 angst #canon typical violence #sorry #master apprentice

59 notes · View notes

f1babe98 · 3 years ago

Text

The Arrangement

Chapter1 Chapter2 Chapter3

Warnings: smut, swearing, fluff Chapter 4

Oh God whats that smell? Why is my face wet? Where’s this air coming from?

I open my eyes to inspect my surroundings. Slightly confused, I look around the room, I jump after finding a dog, albeit a cute one, staring right at me. So close I can feel his breath on my face. I tentatively reach my hand and he drops his head for me to pet him.

After a few more pets I turn my head and find Lewis still sleeping next to me. All the memories come flooding back. The mind blowing sex. The multiple orgasms. The slow, lazy sex in the middle of the night after the thunder of last nights storm works us both up.

I slowly make my way out of the bed, I grab the first shirt I find on the floor. I didn't realize it was Lewis’ till I got to the bathroom. After peeing, using my finger as a tooth brush and and attempting to turn the rats nest on my head into a messy bun, I make my way out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom.

Lewis is still asleep and Roscoe is staring at me with what I can only imagine are hungry eyes. I couldn't bring myself to wake Lewis because he looked so peaceful, so I take Roscoe into the kitchen to try to find his food. After locating his food in the pantry, I start to cut up some fruit to make a fruit salad. I figured Lewis probably wouldn't appreciate me looking thru his kitchen. Thankfully I choose the salad because the voice behind me scares the life out of me a few minutes later.

“She lets me sleep in and she feeds the dog. Well you're just perfect now aren’t ya y/n”

“You looked so peaceful I didn't have the heart to wake you.” I say while slowly turning around.

Thankfully I have remembered to put my panties back on after the bathroom, because the slight before would have had my juices dripping from my core down my legs. Before me stands a shirtless Lewis, with just a pair of grey sweat pants on. Did I mention he was free balling it.

“Did you want me to make something to eat?” I ask, trying not stare.

“Oh I know what I want to eat and it requires no cooking time.”

I can feel the blush spread to my whole body. I feel like the Ferrari garage at the race.

“I can’t honestly still make you nervous after last night.” Lewis says as he boxes me into the counter. One strong arm on either side of me. Hes so close I can feel his minty breath on cheek and I turn to the side embarrassed. “The positions I put you in, all the angles I say you in.”

I look up at him shocked at his bluntness. Hes staring at me with lust filled eyes, but as soon as we make eye contact his eyes become soft and loving. He stands up straighter, still leaving his arms on either side of me. I reach up and tuck a braid behind his ear. He takes a step closer to me and I can feel the bulge in the pants press into my stomach. I reach down and rub him thru his pants. He closes his eyes and drops his head, letting out a quiet moan. I slowly slip a hand into his pants and stroke him. His moans are louder and deeper now. He drops his head into my shoulder. He slowly guides me back into the kitchen table. Before he can lift me onto it, I remove my hand from his pants and drop onto my knees.

“Its only fair I return the favor from last night” I say as I pull his pants down.

His cock springs free and stands proud as I wrap my hands around it. Its impressive size makes my hands look tiny. I slowly take the tip into my mouth, and swirl my tongue around. The groan that leaves his lips encourages me to continue. I take as much of him into my mouth as possible, using my hands to work the rest. I can feel the precum dripping down my throat, I place one hand on his thigh to keep myself stable. I hollow out my cheeks and Lewis lets a deep moan, he grabs onto my messy bun. I can feel the wetness pooling at my core. I continue this until I feel the grip on my hair tighten and his thigh tense under hand.

“Play with yourself baby girl. I want to see you get yourself off when you suck my cock.”

I moan around his dick. The vibrations causing Lewis to moan as well. I slide my hand down his thigh to my core and slip a finger inside myself. The feeling nothing in comparison to Lewis fingers from last night. I remove my finger and start to rub my clit. My moans sending vibrations thru his cock.

“That’s it baby girl. You take my cock so well. You gonna cum for me baby girl? Cum on your fingers for me.”

I feel the knot in the stomach come undone at the same time I feel Lewis’ cock twitch in my mouth. White hot streaks of cum drip down my throat and I swallow every last one. I keep sucking to ride out his high. Once he pulls out of my mouth I lean on the leg of the table and look at him. His cheeks are flushed, his braids a mess and his breathing slightly heavy.

“I was right,” he says. “You’re perfect.”

He helps me up and we finish the fruit salad together. After spending time playing with Roscoe and more flirty comments from Lewis, we both make our way back to the bedroom to get dressed. Realizing I don’t have any clothing to wear Lewis offers me a shirt and boxer briefs to wear as shorts. I find my phone and see a dozen notifications from friends. Confused I open one and it says to google Lewis. So I do.

And there I am. On the cover of the Daily Mail. Leaving dinner with Lewis, his hand on my thigh as he drives us back to his place. I know that this is what I signed up for. I knew this would happen, hell it was supposed to happen, but when you grow up normal like i did you never expect to see yourself on the cover of a magazine. I look over at Lewis and see him looking at his own phone. Without looking up, he speaks.

“I know we agreed to this but I’m sorry.”

“Its okay, we knew this was coming. I have all my socials on private and I blocked anyone who was following me that I didn't know. There’s no way that they will be able to write any real stories about me.”

Lewis noddes his head.

“Will you take me home so I can change my clothes?”

“Of course. Did you want to walk Roscoe with me later? We can grab lunch and spend the day getting to know each other better?”

“Sure, I’d love that.”

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton imagines

39 notes · View notes

munchflix · 3 years ago

Text

MUNCHFLIX - LADY IN THE WATER

IMDB BLURB: Apartment building superintendent Cleveland Heep rescues what he thinks is a young woman from the pool he maintains. When he discovers that she is actually a character from a bedtime story who is trying to make the journey back to her home, he works with his tenants to protect his new friend from the creatures that are determined to keep her in our world.

WARNINGS: M. Night Shyamalan tries to act, minor injuries, racial stereotypes, a lot of a woman being mostly naked

RATING: 2 scrunts and a moist scringo

OBLIGATORY DISCLAIMER: All reviews are done solely for humor and should not be taken seriously ever. If you cannot handle cursing, crude humor and probably some offensive things, pls do not read this.

Munch: *heavy sigh* I hate this movie so so deeply. With an ass clenching passion. I hate this movie like I love girl scout cookies. I don't understand how they took such an amazing cast and turned it into this complete ass disaster of a film.

Biscuits: I've never seen this, so I don't know. Oh my god Larry (our skeleton) scared the shit out of me! Munch can't have alchohol but I'm having alcohol!

M: So the movie opens with some bullshitty shit mythology that Night pulled straight out of his asshole. It's not cohesive, it makes no sense and it doesn't even really set up a base for this absurdity.

B: This is like the opening of watership down but sort of vaguely aboriginal australian looking. Maybe it's just supposed to be generic ancient looking. Ah yes, wolves, the natural enemy of water sprites.

In the beginning, the great Frith created the world...

M: The mythology doesn't even make sense in the current era of things. Being the early 2000's in the movie. So here we are with Mr....Heep. Everything is named so stupidly. He's a plumber or a landlord or something and he's murdering a rat or something while the tenants scream ten times. I can't tell if this is supposed to be funny or not.

B: My brother with a spider in the bathroom. "It was small and bad!"

M: we are introduced to a number of colorful and not at all racist characters.

B: Is this racist?? It feels racist, like they told her to sound more asian. Speak in broken english. Isn't Night Indian??

M: Yeah.

B: Come on! Asian on asian racism!

M: and here's Reggie. My boy deserved better. Reggie has one huge arm. For reasons that are never really explained. He works out only on one side of his body. Because...

B: Good to see the Charger from Left 4 Dead 2 is keeping busy.

M: And a crew of random smokers who will become strangely relevant even tho they're never given names. And some film critic dude.

B: Damn is that my room? I feel called out. They hired me to be a local film critic for tumblr! I'm very smart and all my criticisms are right! I guess there's a war going on?

M: You remember the great war of...2006? So Mr. Heep is out by the pool and a naked chick just stole his keys. She is not human. She is....a narf. No that's really what she's called. He goes in after her because he thinks she drowned or some shit and sloshes around sadly and gets out.

B: And falls back in? They made it look very convincing. He wakes up and the floor is wet, been there. There's a WOMAN. Staring creepily at him.

M: But she had enough sense to get dressed and she speaks English. She asks him if he feels an awakening, which isn't at all weird.

B: This movie is weird. The woman's name is Story. It's like a metaphor or something.

M: It's pretentious bullshit!

B: Take a clue, Lady, he's not interested in your magical vision quest and you can get the fuck out of this apartment. She’s not a kid! that's a grown ass woman! Why did you mention her being a ‘kid’ and then have all this weird almost sexual implication with her and be all weird touchy feely? You couldn't put pants on the supposed child??

M: Man wakes to weird lady in his apartment, just rolls with it.

B: Probably assumes she's just another crackhead.

M: And now the grass wolf. Which is after Story for reasons. So they run back inside, was he just gonna throw her in the pool again?? He tries to describe the grass wolf to a pest control dude but he just sounds bonkers. Which anyone would because there's a crackhead pool lady and a grass wolf and this dude is just trying to maintain these apartments. Story discovers his shower. Mr. Heep wants information on the narf which he isn’t getting because they were made up for this movie.

B: He has the least convincing stutter ever.

M: He goes to the racist caricature lady's racist caricature mom who tell him about the narf which is like a sea nymph.

B: I like how she's translating before her mom even stops talking.

M: More alchohol?? You're gonna pass out before this is over.

B: I'm just...bringing it out here. In case I want more. She'll bring a great eagle? but why??

M: THE CHILD IN YOUR APARTMENT IS NAKED, HEEP. He's trying to solve this...mystery? Story is looking for someone? But we know absolutely nothing else.

B: But he's just staring at the naked child. this is so icky, I don't like it. Maybe if they hadn't emphasized how young she was? Maybe don't have her have this weird almost romantic tension with an old guy?

M: So Mr Heep has to go around his weird apartment complex and try to find this magical person by interviewing the very colorful tenants. Like old butterfly lady, weird writer guy, one arm buff dude, overly attentive small child and wordsmith dad, room full of smoking dudes, and the worst part is that this cast of weirdos has the propensity to be so amazing and intense and make a just off the wall madcap story but alas....

B: Damn I remember when my dad told me not to put my clothes in the garbage disposal.

M: Your dad wouldn't do that.

B: My dad would put his clothes in the garbage disposal. Why is this character so racist? You know she can talk just fine, why is she referring to herself in third person?? It has to be exotic I guess? Some ethnic woman needs to impart the mythical story. Meanwhile Story is getting into stuff, and still not wearing pants.

M: and introducing M. Night in his own movie! So cool! So not self aggrandizing! So not narcissistic! He's a writer! Who doesn't do laundry.

B: m. night's self insert oc.

M: This is the worst part, is that this character becomes the super important linchpin of this whole dumb story.

B: Okay Story....that's a good way to get exposition out, just have a character say it AT you. Just tell Mr. Heep exactly what the plot is.

M: Mr Heep thinks he's solved the mystery but since the movie is not over, he hasn't. He brings Night in to talk to Story because apparently he's the mystical writer dude except he just gets anxiety and leaves. This dialogue is so weird.

B: Just sounds like Mr Heep is inviting him for a threesome. Mr Heep is just gonna keep his pet woman around. He's like Tom Bombadil, just keeping some random elf woman in his place. Also not being really relevant to anything.

M: He can't let Story go back in the apartments pool because there's a grass wolf and rules. Thank you for letting me wear your beautiful shirt.

B: He couldn't let her wear any of his beautiful pants tho. I just don't get why she has to be mostly naked all the time in this context?? I don't understand it. So I guess she just went back to live in the pool?? Okay? Something happened, she's upset and she's been scratched.

M: Grass wolf in slow mo! It's not safe! She gon' die now because grass wolf scritches are deadly to...narfs. So they brought her to M. Night's place. Like you do. His sister assumes Mr. Heep is banging her.

B: Who wouldn’t?! He's actually been respectful though. I wish I could look at a naked woman and just start writing again, is that what I'm missing?

M: It works for me. Now we gotta consult the stereotypes for more lore.

B: Scrunt?? (laughs) Scrunt.

Scrunt.

M: Yeah that's the grass wolf. They gotta find a way to stop it so she can run the 12 feet to the pool and be safe again.

B: Okay the lore gets thicker.....now's there's tartutics??

M: And rogue scrunts.

B: Is this supposed to be an allegory for Mr. Heep gradually writing the story himself? Mr Heep swum to a skyrim temple full of random garbage in his pool. Every pool has one. He's gotta find...something. Why is there an air bubble in the cup? The set design is atrocious. He can also hold his breath for a shocking amount of time.

M: They always can in movies.

B: He's found secret air bubbles stashed there just for him? And a butter knife to get this ancient stone door open. He just exhaled a ton so my man is suffocating right now.

M: Nah he's fine and he found the secret thing. this racist exposition shit is so tiring. Now they want Mr Heep to pretend to be a kid to unlock the super secret lore even though he just learned most of it from the asian caricature chick.

B: I guess I assumed because her name is Story it was a metaphor for a story? If I wrote a metaphor about writing it would be like a fucking brain parasite like Venom or some shit that takes over your brain and makes you write about sex rabies. I wouldn't write about SCRUNTS.

M: That's oddly specific. More weirdly inappropriate almost romance between Story and Mr. Heep. She could have told him all this from the get go.

B: No we needed like three scenes of him just getting expositioned all over.

M: God I hate this movie. I hate M. Night's acting and his self important self insert fucking wannabe important fucking bullshit. He'll become a great leader and you'll save the WHOLE WORLD, BIG BOY AND EVERYONE WILL LOVE YOU!

B: The man who read your book will grow up to be Donald Trump.

M: And now Mr. Heep is back with asian gramma who is gonna tell him the rest of this super secret fucking wtf ever story about shit nobody's ever heard of but is apparently huge in her culture.

B: Asian mom's face right there is my mood for this whole movie. Oh Story’s not allowed to talk about her world but we don't know why.

M: I love how everyone else in the apartment complex just goes along with all of this. Like oh sure fine, she's a narf and there's a grass wolf and no big deal. So now there's a whole bunch of people we gotta find. Symbolist, guardian, guild, and a healer. And honestly this shit is so obvious and why would all these people only live in this apartment complex??

B: They've been drawn there...you know...by the universe....

M: These are so obvious, it's not the dad. It's his kid. The smokers. The butterfly lady, and now we're getting fucking meta by talking to the critic dude

B: I really hate it when most things get meta, it's super self referential and it's hard to do right and it's almost never good. Oh whatever, this is dumb. We've got everyone gathered together now to look at the naked woman in the shower while crossword dad tries to solve this shit.

M: Story stares blankly at everyone while they plan a party around a sense of smell. But the eagle won't show up to take her back or whatever.

B: We didn't have the budget to animate the giant eagle so it's not gonna show up for us. Also that's now how a sense of smell works. That guy kinda looks like Griffin McElroy.

M: He does! How does one practice on a scrunt?

B: First...gently spread the legs apart and then uh...just get in that scrunt.

M: The lore is getting so intense, you gotta walk backwards towards the scrunt and say magic words.

B: I like how she can't talk about her world but suddenly she can because she can tell him how to fight the scrunt?? And she's getting VERY detailed. What are the rules?? Why is now a JG scrunt??

M: Mr. Heep is dead! No he's fine. The film critic dude is here now.

B: He just watched the Notebook and had the same review I did. Overrated as hell.

M: You've seen The Notebook?

B: No. Where's the justice? Where have all the good men gone? And where are all the gods? Where's the streeeetwise-

M: NO you are not singing the entire song.

B: I'm trying to entertain myself. This movie's pretty bad. Oh Mr Heep's family was murdered? That's kind of an important plot point!

M: M. Night is still milking this poor naked woman for every inch.

B: Don't use the world milking. Obviously you must think you're special, you gave yourself a starring role in your movie. What the fuck did he write that was so impressive they're gonna kill him over it?! He's M. Night Shyamalan. The Communist Manifesto? I like how Story has no agency in this story either, she's just an object. He could have found a magic orb or the amulet of Gringledoof and it wouldn't have changed anything.

M: She's literally a sexy lamp and it annoys me SO MUCH. She just randomly throws out exposition every now and again and then just stares at things.

B: The other narfs in narf school laughed at me! Every time I talked to the scringlebungles they threw hoopjabs at me! That's not real but it could have been. My moist scringlo left me.

M: So they went ahead with the party idea even though they figured out they got all this shit wrong?? Or maybe they think they only got part of it wrong? Also Story is dying. But it's cool because there's a giant party and they're gonna toss her in the pool where the eagle is gonna come and grab her or something?

B: this feels like it was based on a dream but not in the way that you kind of fill in the blanks to make it make sense? Like “Jimmy was the president and my dog was Keanu Reeves”. M Night's sister was using a mirror to find the scrunt. I just go out to a bar. This party stinks, there's not even any music. And the dumb guys left their post so the scrungly is gonna come.

M: Now a series of incredible coincidences and happenstance that will somehow prevent Story from getting in the pool! The music won't start! the smokers took off! The scrunt is dragging story through the grass! She's got MORE scratches! Which are lethal.

B: The scrunt is super lethal but all it can really do is leave scratch marks on your calves. Wait is the butterfly lady not the healer?

M: No she is, they got that one right. I think.

B: Wow 18 across is ‘scrunkly's fucking dead’!

M: I'm gonna...wait.....is that Jared Harris!?! I'm gonna get scrunkly and scrunt confused.

B: We gotta have the third act conflict. It's not really movie critic's fault, he didn't pick the people out. M. Night just wanted to frame the critic as the bad guy because critics are BAD and anyone who says otherwise is wrong.

M: they're still trying to find the fucking interpreter. it's the kid. What a fucking twist. He can read cereal boxes. Seven sisters?

B: There aren't even seven female characters in this movie. What is this fucking side plot about M. Night's character??! It's not really even threaded into the other plot.

M: and now suddenly we know who everyone is because the kid told us. Why is this party still going on?!? There's no music or anything and people are just hanging out this whole time?? Now there's a storm, for effect. Nothing makes any sense at this point because we've just introduced like seven new characters who were barely established earlier in the movie. For the sake of having a twist or something. Now the interpreter kid says he got it all wrong AGAIN. And mr. Heep is the healer after all I guess.

B: they could have had the butterfly land on him for like a second just to hint at this better. Larry scared me again. he doesn't like this movie either. "I think this movie is PISS!"

M: Larry sounds like Skeletor??

B: Well he's a skeleton!

M: Can we get to where something happens again?

B: Is this like an allegory for him losing his family now?? Him crying over her? I keep forgetting that's a thing. Her name is SKRUNKLY, she's just a crackhead who showed up in my pool. I didn't know the cure for death was crying. Doctors hate him.

M: Local man invents backstory, cures pool crackhead. Who is now blonde?!?

B: He found a woman in his pool, what happens next will amaze you!

M: Scrunts?! In MY vagina? It's more likely than you think!

B: And then the missing person investigation for the critic who got eaten. And they're like - there was a lady in the pool and he got eaten by a scrunt and an eagle came and they'll be like - okay time to go to a nice room with padded walls. The scrunt approaches. I just like saying scrunt.

M: So everyone is outside, it's raining, Story Scrunkle is fine now, but they gotta kill the scrunt and that's bad cgen for 2006, and Charger Reggie with the giant arm is the guardian after all of this and he paralyzes the scrunt by looking lovingly in it's eyes.

B: He casts Hold Scrunt.

M: And there's an eagle noise but he broke eye contact! But the tree guys are here, the t something justice enforcers, and they drag the scrunt off - like you do.

B: Because he broke the law? I feel like the monkey guys were utterly unnecessary. They could have just had Reggie kill it. And talon flame comes to carry Scrungly back off to her world I guess.

We only see this in the reflection bc the budget.

M: I don't understand why she came out of the pool and then had to be carried off by a giant eagle when they spent the whole movie trying to get her back in the pool.

B: No it was uh...she uh...she....no that wasn't her world, she was just staying in the pool.

M: Hotel pool.

B: The creatures were designed by someone named Crash McCreary which is pretty badass.

M: That was Jared Harris what the FUCK.

B: Second unit designer - BRICK MASON, that is not a real name. Doug Jones!

M: Well I mean...what hasn't Doug Jones been in? So anyway....this movie could have been anything. It could have been a whimsical adventure, a fun comedy, a clue style mystery, but it is absolutely none of those. It's treated far too seriously when it shouldn;t be and far too comedically when it should be serious. I hate this movie. I hate M. Night for being in this movie. I hate him for taking such a brilliant cast and making them do this movie.

B: Double tap now if you'd scrunkly the when.

M: Munch and Biscuits fucking scrunkling OUT, yo.

#lady in the water #moist scringo #humor #review #paul giamatti #bryce dallas howard #m. night shyamalan #funny #scrunt #narf #munchflower #biscuitsandhorrorslash #munchflix

10 notes · View notes

thisisthehardestthing · 4 years ago

Text

тоска, Tanaka x Reader, 18+

Written for The Smut Pile Server Collab: Mafia AU | MASTERLIST HERE.

тоска tus-ka: Russian, noun It is a dull ache of the soul, a sick pining, a vague restlessness, mental throes, yearning. In particular cases, it may be the desire for somebody or something specific, nostalgia, lovesickness.

Russian Mafia AU: Tanaka Ryu x A Reader OC Rating: E for explicit Warnings: Violence, Blood, Death, Oral sex, Public Sex, Grinding, Cheating, Denied Orgasm, Manipulation, YEARNING Word count: 11,752 Part 1 | Part 2

GLOSSARY

This is my baby. I have spent so much time writing this. I won’t give too big of an intro. Please enjoy.

Special thanks to: @joyousandverywarlike for being my ride-or-die beta, @pleasantanathema , @present-mel and @linestrider for hosting this collab, and everyone in the server for being amazing friends. I would not have been able to write this without any of you, and I truly mean that.

1.2

Part 1 - Valentina

The room is all rich browns and leather, an oiled hardwood floor, mahogany furniture and taxidermied bears. Against the wall, watching over everything with a bored expression is Daichi "The Bulldog" Sawamurov, Mafia Boss of the Bashkortoskaya. His brown eyes inspect his nails as another grunt echoes in the room. Beside him, you, Valentina Sawamurova, stand tall, a well-manicured hand hooked onto his bicep. In a neat line with arms clasped behind their backs stand six bratji, 'brothers', the hitmen of the Security team. They all watch as a shaved-haired man beats the shit out of a pariah.

Tanaka "Khazak" Ryunoslav wipes his tattooed knuckles, alternating X and O’s, onto a white handkerchief pulled from his neatly pressed slacks, staining the fabric red with blood. It is not his. In a simple chair at the centre of the room, a man -no, he doesn't deserve to be called a man- a boy slumps forward. His head hangs low as blood seeps from his brow, nose, mouth. A tooth lays in his drenched lap. Shivers run down Tanaka's spine as he takes in the defeated form of one of his boyevika.

"Huh? Nothing to say for yourself, predatel?" he questions, bruised knuckles tugging the fallen head of his ex-comrade up to peer into their eyes, almost swollen shut.

"I did not betray the Bratva, I swear on my babu-"

"You only swear on God and the Pakhan, traitor." Tanaka interrupts, releasing his grip so that the boy’s head falls back down in a large swing before lifting up with a painful groan. The Bulldog sighs, checks the time on a glinting gold Rolex. Your fingers slip from the bulging bicep to cross in front of your chest. He nods to you, keep watching, and you smile back, wide, catty, red lipstick violent against white teeth.

"Tanaka, enough. Finish him and dispose of the body. I am tired of his crying. Like a baby. Ha!"

"Da, Boss."

"Make sure his friends are sent a message, also."

"Of course."

Tanaka doesn't take his eyes off the trembling informant but acknowledges the Boss's departure with a casual wave. Most people wouldn't have the audacity to be so lax to the Head, but he isn't just anyone. He's the most trusted. More than you.

"Nyet, nyet, nyet, nyet!" the rat cries, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth and splashing onto the floor as he struggles against the bonds. Filthy. Fuck, how Tanaka loves it. He holds his hand out and a more competent, loyal, brat hands him a gun. His fingers curl around the weighted metal of the handle with a sigh, cocking it, and without hesitation, pulls the trigger.

There are only a few seconds of silence after the bang, just enough for Tanaka to relish in the feeling of complete calm after the storm. The hole between the eyes spits blood onto his crisp white shirt, before the lifeless body is untied by his boyevika in the room and dragged out to be 'made an example of'. One by one, the men clean up. A mop, bleach, breaking down the chair for firewood later. No loose ends, including The Khazak's shirt as he unbuttons it to be burnt with the chair. All the while, you watch from the sidelines, against the wall, as the wife of the Boss should.

Your toes tap rhythmically against the floor, the clackclackclack of your stilettoes a steady beat for the men to work to, but your eyes are on Tanaka's back. So muscular, so supple, still shivering from the endorphins of taking a life. The twin pistols tattooed on either shoulder blade seem armed, willing to fire again.

You watch as he drops down fluidly with crossed legs to sit on the floor in the very spot he killed the predatel with no remorse, taking deep lungfuls of air to relish in the feeling. He can feel your eyes on him, a smile threatening to spread across his lips as he turns his head over his shoulder to peer at your scrutinising gaze -which is very careful not to let your lust show. But he knows it's there. He can taste it on his heavy tongue.

One by one, the men walk from the room, leaving only the two of you in your husband's office. The oak door shuts.

"Tell me, Gadyuka, how was I?" Tanaka enquires, eyes closed and head straight so that you can see the back of his scalp move as he speaks. The shorn hair shimmies and waves with his words, washing over you in the vast expanse of the room. Your pseudonym, 'viper', poison in your veins.

"Same as always: bloody," you hum, pushing off the wall and walking in front of him to lean against the broad desk. "You enjoy making a mess, don't you, Ryu?" you use your nickname for him, not his name, or his pseudonym, but something more intimate. He barks out a laugh, chest shaking as he examines the backs of his knuckles with gleaming eyes.

"Blyat, you know damn well that I do."

Like a gunshot has just echoed once again, the silence in the room is deafening. Your gazes lock, his ocean-grey ones with your cat-like stare. From his position on the floor, he looks up at you. Your stocking-clad legs are inviting his hands to stroke up them, and he's lucky enough to see the hint of the garter strap under your short skirt. He licks his lips. You tap the desk behind you impatiently, nails clacking against the glossy hardwood.

"My husband is going away on business in a week."

"I know, I arranged security."

"You're not going with him?" you ask, eyebrow quirking, no longer tapping the table. Tanaka shakes his head, a coy smile pulling at the corner of his lips, dried blood cracking on his sharp jaw.

"Then where will you be, Khazak?"

The grin almost splits his face in half with his reply, "in your bed, Gadyuka."

His bluntness never fails to shock you, to send heat pooling between your thighs and your heart spasming beneath your ribs. You almost want to have him right there, on top of the ledgers and documents of the many businesses Daichi is in charge of. Tanaka places his strong hands on the floor, easily dragging his body to your feet where he sits once more, staring up with eyes cloudy like the spray of a hurricane. A palm wraps behind your right leg to pull it close to his lips, kissing the lycra, the apex of your kneecap. His touch ripples through your skin so that your chin tilts up, breaking the gravity of his eye contact.

"Careful, Ryunoslav, not here."

His teeth nip at the fabric.

"I can not wait a week to taste you, Val."

"The cameras-"

"Are off because of the interrogation. Only I have the code to enable them for this room."

Calloused palms drag up the backs of your thighs, the stocking tugging slightly as it catches, until they pass the band where they wrap around your thighs, secured with a garter. You almost beg him to feel higher, to grab the fold of your ass, instead, you bite your lip between your teeth in thought.

"Then we must be quick, get under the desk."

You don't tell him how unusual it would be if you were found to sit in your husband's chair, but with lust swimming from your thighs to drown your mind, it's not important.

Tanaka is always rowdier after a kill, high off adrenaline, energy flowing in his veins that wants to devour everything in its path. He prefers to devour you. To savour your taste with his head between your supple thighs, to feel you come undone around his quick-witted tongue. With you balancing so precariously on the edge of the leather office chair, he can barely contain his onslaught of touch, desperate to hear you moan in the sound-proofed room. He's tucked so tightly between your knees, his broad yet lean shoulders spreading you so that he sees the dampened lace beneath your skirt.

It never takes much to arouse you. He likes to think it's only him that can pull forth your wetness from your folds like the moon coaxing the tides. He doesn't waste time, doesn't stop to watch the string of slick connecting the fabric to your cunt as his thumbs pull it to the side. He licks a long stripe up your slit and moans into the taste like a man starved. It's times like these when you wish he had hair for you to grab on to, so you settle on gripping the edge of the mahogany desk until your knuckles pale and forearms burn.

His tongue dances between your folds, lapping up each new wave of wetness that touches the shore of the muscle, only nudging the bundle of nerves at the top with a slight jostle.

"Don't tease me, Ryu, not in here," you breathe out at him between his licks, to which he chuckles, head turning to muffle the laughter against your inner thigh.

"Prosti," he apologises, the grey in his eyes glimmering with childish glee, "I can't help it sometimes."

But he doesn't give you a chance to reply before his lips attach once more to your throbbing skin, wrapping around your swollen clit to suck greedily. Finally, he hears you moan, the sound kissing his sensitive ears like cool ocean spray. It's not loud, more constricted, but it's for him, because of him.

You feel how he sucks you into him, swallowing your heat and lust and desire with his mouth, having it all flow back into your body to stir at the whirlpool between your legs and behind your eyelids. It's torrential, dizzying, you're dragged beneath the waves, chest heaving as if you're drowning,

but then it stops

and the sea dies down, leaving your battered body behind.

Tanaka pulls away, silently. His palms close your legs, knees knocking together, his thumbs teasing circles against the bone. You're aching from your denied orgasm, the pained moan in your throat cutting off as a knock sounds in the room.

"Come in," you clear your throat, repeating the command.

One of Daichi's body guard's strides into the room, a look of shock on his face at your seat before he masks it quickly. His long brown hair is tied up neatly into a bun, a slight stubble on his chin tells you he hasn't slept properly in a few days. You can feel the heat radiating from your cheeks, feel the static in your hair that you smooth down. Tanaka keeps tracing shapes into your thighs, keeping the fire in your gut from extinguishing.

"Yes?" you thank Saint Mary that your voice doesn't tremble, "what is it?"

"Mrs. Sawamurova," he nods a greeting, "The Boss says he will take you out for dinner tonight and has sent me to escort you back to the main estate in preparations."

"Of course, I look forward to it."

You kick away Tanaka's hands, standing at the same time to walk around the table and follow the guard you know as Alexei Asahi from your husband's office. It means leaving The Khazak under the desk, along with a piece of your dignity.

***

Dinner is the kind with clinking glasses and soft chatter. The lighting is dim, intimate, with a soft glow that bounces off the crystal and silverware. As usual, the two of you are seated in the middle of the restaurant, the surrounding tables strategically blocking the view of you and Daichi from all the windows and doors, as well as the bodies seated in them. You can never be too careful, even if your husband owns the restaurant -or the entire town. To your left, behind Daichi and closest to the door, sits Tanaka.

"You look beautiful tonight, darling," Daichi says, taking a bite of his steak.

You do. The black silk dress lays flat against your chest, the deep v tailored perfectly. The tie behind your neck falls softly to your waist. Against your skin is a gold pendant, a coin pressed with the Sawamarov crest. Sleeveless and backless, the dress shows your beautiful viper tattoo curling down your right arm as though protecting you. It’s jaw opens near your wrist to bite anyone you may touch. You hold your glass of wine, swirling it before you sip.

"Thank you, my love. You bought me this dress for our first date."

"And that engagement ring on our second."

You swallow down your guilt, thighs clenching together, the silk fabric teasingly softly against your still-ignited skin. You give him a pointed stare, leaning forward ever so slightly to whisper over the table.

"I wouldn't call that a second date. We never left each other after the first."

Daichi laughs heartily, waves for another bottle of wine, eyes shining with the memory of the very active week in a skiing lodge. He hopes he can recreate some of it tonight, knowing he's been neglecting you, ignoring your needs. He glances down at the subtle curve of the fabric around your slight breast, the hint of the peony tattoo peeking under the edge of your neckline, low on your sternum; it’s the only delicate thing about you.

Daichi watches as you excuse yourself to use the restroom, the way your hips sway beneath the silk as though you have a secret. He frowns when the door closes, checking his watch for the time and pouring a shot of vodka to swallow down. You do have a secret. The waiter takes away the plates, bringing a simple dessert to share with the wine, and when you sit back down with a happy sigh, The Bulldog tries to sniff it out. He taps the table with two fingers and the nearest bodyguards turn slightly away to give you both privacy.

“I was told you were seated at my desk.”

A bite of mousse passes between your red lips with a small smile, eyes penetrating his gaze and not faltering.

“Can a wife not sit in her husband’s chair?”

“Nyet, you know this. Why?”

“Calm down, my love.”

He fixes his cuff links, leaning back in his chair so that the gold chain around his neck glints in the light. His strong brow shadows his darkening eyes, lips pressing into a thin line, and, true to his nickname, it seems as though his muscles inflate. It makes you melt to see him hard, pectorals and biceps wanting to burst through the fabric of his Armani shirt. The spoon clinks against the plate and you reach across the table, viper stretching to grab his hand and bring it to your lips with a soft kiss, red lipstick on his jewelled knuckles. As much as you want to flicker your gaze to the man behind your husband, you hold firm.

“It’s embarrassing, but I’ll tell you. Come closer so I can whisper,” you usher him in, and Daichi grunts but follows your suggestion. He has no reason to doubt you, yet his gut is telling him you were doing more than just resting your heeled feet. He watches your pink tongue lick your bottom lip, teeth cracking between them with a coy smile.

“As you know, it has been quite some time since we’ve, how should I put this, made love.”

“I know.”

“Had I known we were going to dine tonight, fuck tonight, I would not have.”

“Your point, Gadyuka.”

Your whisper turns into a low hum, right hand squeezing his and your left hand toying with the coin pendant around your neck. Butterflies swirl in your gut, but you kill them swiftly with venom. He can sniff out any insecurity.

“I was masturbating.”

“What?”

“I was masturbating. Touching myself. In your chair, by your desk, thinking of you. I was almost finished but then Alexei had knocked on the door and stopped it.”

The look on Daichi’s face can only be described as speechless, which he is not often. His mouth opens, eyes stormy as he pictures your flushed face. He remembers that glassy look your eyes adopt when you're close, far away in bliss. Your delicate palm touches his clean-shaven cheek, drawing his attention back to the restaurant, to you.

“How about we go home and finish what I started, huh?”

Daichi didn’t need to be told twice. Standing fluidly, everyone around him follows his movement. Your fur coat is draped over your shoulders, thick and warm, a crisp white. His hand is on the small of your back, leading you out of the restaurant with the haste of a man collecting a prize. The air is cold, snow shovelled aside as you climb into the car to feel heated lips pressing to your neck instantly. You laugh, locking your wrists behind his neck to capture his mouth with your own. Men are so easily convinced.

Part 2 - Tanaka

The frame rattles as Tanaka slams the door closed behind him. He tracks melting sludge onto the thin, rust-coloured welcome mat, the tip of his nose red with more than the kiss from the windchill. The heater of the cabin is turned on, the warmth a welcome refuge from the thick snow outside as he shrugs off his coat.

Tanaka doesn’t hide his thoughts and feelings. He’s the kind of guy that wears them on his sleeve, bares it all out there for everyone to see. When he’s angry, you can see the tips of his ears burn. When he’s thrilled, that shark-tooth grin spreads so wide across his face, his eyes close. And when he’s murderous, nothing and no one can stand in his way.

“Cyka blyat!” he shouts, punching the wall of his residence, missing the mirror by mere centimetres, his already bruised knuckles stinging with his rage. A slew of curse words tumbles from his lips, both from searing pain and soaring anger. The eyes on the back of his hands stare at him, judging.

Seeing Valentina out at dinner, looking so delectable, so sinful, Ryunoslav felt ravenous for just a taste of her skin. It was bad enough that he never got to feel her convulse on his tongue earlier, he had to watch her flirt with her husband. He knows the deal, that nothing can ever really happen between the two of them outside of sex, and if they were both to get caught, it would be his end. He understands, yet he can’t help his rising natural anger. The buzzing in his pants pocket pulls him from his internal struggle, and he relaxes his hands, feeling the half-moon indents in his palms hiss in relief.

“Da?" a pause, "I’m on my way.”

Daichi wants to see him; did they finish their ‘love-making’ so quickly? Tanaka catches his reflection in the mirror, massaging the centre of his furrowed brows to try dissipate some of his frustrations before grabbing his thick coat and making the five-minute trek to the main estate. He’s frozen to the bone by the time he arrives at the large mahogany doors, but his anger keeps his blood warm. He needs to be careful, to calm down.

***

The Boss is waiting for Tanaka in his oversized office, the door open ajar, letting a soft yellow light stream into the hallway. This one is different from where the interrogation took place that afternoon, yet it is decorated almost identically. A shiver runs down Ryunoslav’s neck as he remembers Valentina’s sumptuous taste, the supple skin of her thighs brushing against his jaw and the way her lips sighed his name. Fuck, he takes a deep breath, pacifying his licentious thoughts before rapping on the door with his knuckles. Daichi’s deep voice tells him to enter.

He sits there, behind the desk, the white shirt he wore to dinner wrinkled, half unbuttoned to show a burly chest. A gold chain with a coin and two wedding bands glints from the curled chest hair.

“Vodka?” Daichi asks, doe brown eyes glancing up, already pouring both him and his head of security a shot of the clear liquid.

“Spasiba,” Tanaka’s voice is a grumble, deep in his chest as he tries to warm his body but cool his temper.

The Bulldog leans back. They toast, downing the drink with a casual swallow. As per usual, Tanaka automatically refills the next round for the both of them, but it remains untouched. Instead, Daichi opens a ledger, fingers curling up the pages as he flips through the numbers and accounts.

“Sergei has told me we were underpaid last month.”

“Mm, I will talk with Yuuri to find out who.”

“Make sure you show them the repercussions.”

“Always.”

Tanaka cracks his knuckles, excited to teach yet another lesson in punctuality. Daichi eyes his most trusted brother, the way that cocky smirk appears at the thought of fists colliding with skin, but there’s something else underneath.

“Khazak, you’re angry,” Daichi concludes, reaching across the table for the vodka, motioning Ryunoslav to sit down across from him. The shorn-haired man shrugs, slinking into the leather seat, removing his black beenie to run his hand through the trimmed hair. He can’t lie to the Boss, but he can’t tell him the truth either.

“I am… frustrated.”

The pair cheers, the glasses clinking before thudding onto the leather ingrained into the top of the desk.

“Why?”

"Ha! Please, I do not know, Boss.”

Daichi lets out a hum, shifting forward in his chair so that the wheels creak beneath his weight.

“I think I know.”

Tanaka stays silent, keeping his stare level and curious with the Bulldog’s.

“You need a woman!” Daichi barks out, smacking the desk with a flat palm, laughing deeply so that it echoes in the quiet room and probably through the manor. Tanaka can’t help but join in with the infectious laughter, the vodka soothing his nerves, relaxing the tension in his jaw.

“You’re right. It’s been too long,” since I fucked your wife.

They pour another shot, the buzz of the first two beginning to hum pleasantly through their bodies.

“Next week I go to Georgia to see the business there. While I’m gone, bring a whore to your bed. You have my permission.”

“Thank you, Boss.” Tanaka says, his cock twitching at the thought of Valentina in his residence. She’s never been there longer than a few minutes, and never without Daichi in the ten years Ryunoslav has been working for the Sawamurov family, and the two he’s been fucking her. He can't help but fantasize about it.

They catch up in light-hearted talk, about the state of Russia and the business, that they don’t see her peer around the corner of the heavy door, black silk nightgown wrapped loosely around her frame to show the lace of lingerie beneath.

“Daichi, are you coming to bed?” Tanaka hears her say, Valentina’s voice caressing his sensitive ears, but it’s not for him. He turns around, both men shocked into sobriety when they see her leaning against the now open door.

“Ah yes! Sorry, my love! We lost track of time.” Daichi says, pushing up from his seat. Tanaka swallows, watches as her gaze floats from her husband’s to his own. He can see the pale blue of new bruises around the column of her throat, where Daichi probably sucked into the skin. Tanaka can’t help his smirk. She always did like it rough, and it means he can leave his own over those later.

“Khazak,” she greets with a curt nod, fixing the dropped shoulder of the gown to make herself more modest. “Don’t keep him too late, okay?”

“Mrs. Sawamurova, as you wish.”

Daichi chuckles from behind the desk, walking around to clap Tanaka on the shoulder.

“I may be the Pakhan, but Gadyuka here always has the last say, huh? Good night, Ryunoslav. Don’t forget to talk to Yuuri. And don’t forget what I said you can do.”

“Da, spakoyne noche, Boss.”

With a two-finger wave, Daichi walks out of the room, his hand travelling to the small of Valentina’s back as he leads her back to the bedroom. Tanaka takes one final shot, pulling his hat low over his ears as he prepares to walk back to his house.

***

“He said what?” Nishinoya Yuuri exclaims, cackling inside Tanaka’s small living room. His shorter counterpart smacks the armrest of the chair, the sound against the leather cracking like a whip.

“I can entertain a whore this weekend.”

Yuuri can’t believe his ears, face red with laughter, the file of the business owner coming up with short change forgotten on his lap. His bleached bangs hang in his eyes and he pushes it up, wiping tears with a deep breath.

Together, Ryunoslav and Yuuri make up the Elite Group within the Bashkortoskaya, Daichi’s most trusted men. Each one runs their own Brigade: Nishinoya the Support Group and, by default, oversees the entire Workforce, while Tanaka is head of Security and keeps everything running smoothly.

The Khazak’s sharp jaw pulses, cheeks red to resemble a heart as it beats in humility. He clenches and unclenches his jaw.

“In the years I’ve known you, you’ve never had a prostitute.”

"I've never needed one," Tanaka shrugs, stealing the manila folder to flip through the details. Simple enough. His men were already bringing the tinted black SUVs around for them to make a ‘house call’ to Ukai Keishin. He shrugs on his thick coat, the kind that’s easy to clean, and black leather gloves onto his hands, slipping knuckle dusters into his pocket. Just in case. He doubts he’ll need them. He waves Yuuri a goodbye as he hears the tyres crunch over the sleet of snow.

“Remember to pick up condoms while you’re out!” He hears his brother call out to him as the door closes and ice invades each inhale.

Tanaka grumbles under his breath, fiddling with the direction of the hot air coming through the car’s vents. Just what he needs is word getting around that he would be fucking someone while the Boss is gone. These kinds of things never stay quiet, and he knows it will reach Valentina’s ears within the day. He shivers to think how she will lash out at him if he actually invites one of Daichi’s prostitutes back to his bed. The girls at those establishments can’t even hold a candle to her beauty or skill.

Prostitution is a lucrative business and one of the main sources of income, other than drug smuggling and the many (legal and illegal) casinos and tech companies owned by the Sawamurov’s. Ukai's particular business—and why The Boss is so invested in it—is a front for a prostitution call-centre. According to performance, they should've made a profit for the month past. Usually, Tanaka wouldn't make an appearance personally, delegating the task to his experienced team members, who might even give the order to the security brigades that they run. However, he is glad to get out of the estate grounds and think of something other than Val’s voluptuous lips and the swell of her breasts from beneath that black lingerie last night.

***

The Sawamurov's reach controlled all of Bashkortostan, a republic within Russia nestled between the picturesque Ural mountain range and the Volga river. Tanaka watches as the trees surrounding the estate give way to highway and grassland before the small town of Belebey comes into view. It's all Daichi's, and in turn, all Val’s.

The town is quiet, the late morning sky a dark grey with clouds that make the winter more formidable. Tanaka wouldn't have it any other way. They pull up to the slightly rundown storefront, graffiti against the wall with crude swear words act as a greeting. He snorts, watching as the glossy black SUV's reflect in the windows as though looking into a parallel world. Inside he can see movement, a tall man in a white apron walking around the counter to open the door. Confident.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Ukai shouts out, arms crossed over his chest to protect his fingers from the stinging cold. Tanaka doesn't answer, tucking his chin into his scarf as he observes the man. He's older, bleached blonde with honey eyes that seem more solid, hardened. On his forearms are scars, his flannel shirt sleeves rolled up to reveal a tattoo of a web with a downwards facing spider: recovered drug addict.

"We've come to collect," one of the lackeys says in his boss's place.

Ukai steps aside to let them in, sighing deeply, flicking a cigarette to the moist ground, and leading them to a back room where there's a round table with a few wooden chairs. Papers litter the room, boxes of unpacked stock are piled in a corner. The place is a shithole.

"Can I get you anything? Vodka, cigarette?"

"Sit, Ukai." Tanaka speaks, gesturing to the nearest chair, unbuttoning his coat to drop it onto the table, his beanie and scarf piling on top of it. "We're here for business."

Ukai collapses down, slouching casually as he stares at the leader of the men. Ryunoslav drags a chair in front of the debtor, spinning it on a single leg so that he leans against the backrest as he sits with his legs spread out on either side. A sliver of gold chain catches the fluorescent lighting under his simple suit shirt, matching the multiple piercings in Ukai's right ear.

"You did not pay the full amount of February."

"Correct."

"Why?"

"I couldn't."

The man's blunt lie is shocking to Tanaka, refreshing from the usual quivering imbeciles, and he feels the need to suppress a smile that threatens to reveal itself. Instead, he keeps his tone cynical.

"Was the month not profitable, Ukai? Men get lonely in February, their beds cold."

Ukai shrugs, smoothing out the wrinkles in his apron, eyeing the handsome shaved hair man with intrigue. Tanaka feels a ripple down his spine. "For the whores? Yes, it was profitable. But my business was not."

"So you used the money for the Bashkortoskaya to save your ass from bills?" Tanaka begins to laugh, his wide mouth swallowing the sky as his chin tilts up. He stares straight at the man once more, "you should've paid us first."

"Ah, but then I wouldn't have had the pleasure of your visit. I am touched an Avtoritet will come to see me personally. You are better looking than I thought you would be, younger."

Tanaka raises an eyebrow at the flirtatious comment, a very open individual. He sees some of his subordinates shift uncomfortably in his peripheral, unsure of how to proceed. He drums his fingers on the back of the chair, the beat steady like his heart.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, I'm not one of your kind."

"And what kind is that?"

"Gay."

Ukai chuckles, pulling a packet of cigarettes from his apron pocket, offering one to Ryunoslav who instead takes the full box, holding it up for someone to confiscate. He stands, walking to inspect the stacked boxes around the room. Ukai swallows; he knows not to push his luck too far.

"Are you going to kill me if I don't pay?"

"Hm, nyet, not yet. Are these fresh?" Tanaka holds up a dozen eggs, the green carton sickly. He doesn't wait for the reply, tearing it open and tossing one to the ground with a resounding crunch, the yolk bleeding into the tile grates.

"Listen, Ukai," splat, "you will pay the balance," splat, "by the end of this week," Tanaka walks closer with each drop of the egg until he's next to the grocery store owner. Ukai sits upright, a cool gaze on Tanaka's tattooed hands as they stroke the shell of the brown eggs. The crosses and circles are targets, his hands the weapons.

"Or your head, will look like these eggs." Tanaka drops the entire carton on the ground, the bright yellow spilling out and pooling beneath Tanaka's black boots. "Vy ponimayete?"

"Da, understood."

"Good. I hope I will not need to see you again."

On his way out of the store, Tanaka picks up a box of condoms from the aisle.

Part 3 - Valentina

Friday cannot come fast enough... so that you can throttle your lover.

The double-pane french doors to the balcony shine with frost, the sky beyond dark and unforgiving, much like the irritation boiling inside you. It’s the last night; Daichi leaves on the first flight to Georgia tomorrow morning to meet with the Vashadze, your father and owners of half the Casinos under your combined empire. Your marriage three years ago was the biggest news since the raid on the Uhaluba club in Prague, 1995. Together, your families control prositution, drug smuggling, money laundering, the list goes on. Behind the scenes, of course.

Up front, Daichi is a wealthy investor of tech: Facebook, Tesla, oil companies in the Middle East and Serbia, whereas your father is a top Politician and Minister in Georgia, maintaining his position with dirt he’s collected on those with darker tastes and kinks in the underworld.

“Supply snakes with a meal, and you’ll have them all by the fangs,” your father regularly told you over dinners since you were thirteen, when he began to show you the truth behind his wealth, once your mother passed away.

It’s how you got your nickname. It was the first thing you said to Daichi, before he took you out, before he became The Boss . You were eighteen when you laid eyes upon that hulking mass of muscle. He asked how you could be so beautiful, and you parroted your father’s words. He knew from that moment on that you were dangerous, poisonous, and he had to have you.

When you were twenty-one, you met Daichi again, this time in an underground gambling soiree. You were the host, of course. The felt green betting mats stood out in stark contrast against the white dress code and the dark wooden tables. You wore black. Translucent red dice swirled between your fingers expertly before you rolled snake eyes.

“Bad luck,” Daichi commented over your shoulder, spiced wood and tobacco tickling your nose. You sipped a vodka martini with a twist. There was always a twist with you.

“It’ll be fine, I own the club,” you shrugged, cashing out with the chips you owed and strolling back to the bar where another drink awaited you. Even now, you could remember Tanaka Ryunoslav hovering behind Daichi, drinking in the sight of your curves, the red of your lipstick and the wit of your tongue. A lot less subtle then than now.

If you closed your eyes, you could very easily conjure the tapping of his heels, the eager look in the Young Khazak’s eyes at being surrounded by some of the most powerful men in Eastern Europe. You could even taste the vodka on his tongue that you sucked down your throat in a supply room all those years ago.

Back then, that bout of casual sex meant nothing. You married Daichi four years later, when your paths crossed once more at twenty-five, the turf wars between neighbouring families becoming too much to bear for Eastern Europe. You were lucky Daichi was--is so exceedingly handsome. Interesting. Smart. Powerful. However, so is your father. And you never wanted to marry your father.

“Darling?” Daichi’s voice calls you out of your pacing when he walks into the room, the silk of your dressing gown swooping around your feet as you stand still. “Everything alright?”

“Da, sorry, you know I get nervous when you fly,” you lie quickly, easily, turning your back on him to close the curtain and shut out the irritation of outside, the faint golden glow of Tanaka’s cabin sealed away. Out of sight, out of mind.

“Mm, yes, I know. Relax a little. When I am back we have that gala. Is your dress finished?”

You give him a pointed glance, turning down the bedsheets and unravelling the delicate bow of the robe to climb under the covers with bare skin.

“Weeks ago, Daichi. You were at the final fitting.”

He nods as if he remembers, but you know his mind is elsewhere, much like your body would rather be.

“Are you coming to bed early tonight?”

For several days, weeks, months, Daichi has been sneaking into your bed too late in the evening. Or early in the morning. The business is doing fine, there’s no cause for him to spend some nights not even at home. Some part of you--a small, small part--misses his thick muscles wrapped around your body.

“Later, there is something I have to do first.”

You merely hum, settling yourself down and dimming the lamp beside the bed until the room bathes in a soft glow. With your eyes closed, you don’t see him leave, the door clicking shut. Instead, you picture red, your empty bed, and across the snow, a cocky smile letting a too thin, sallow-skinned blank face past their threshold. He will have to have a hooker, Daichi will ask him all about it. Motherfucker. You turn the light off.

***

The Bulldog kisses your forehead when he wakes, sleeping behind you for a total of an hour. You’d woken up slightly when he clambered into the bed, smelling freshly of his cologne from a recent shower, at three in the morning.

“I’ll be back soon,” he whispers into your ear, not staying to hear your ‘be safe’ in response, still mumbling from a fitful night’s sleep.

However, you don’t drift off again, eyes suddenly open and staring into your nightstand where a cool glass of water rests. It’s still, silent and calm. You turn over to the right, seeing the empty space where Daichi’s body barely left a mark, his lamp still buzzing. It isn’t until you hear cars pull away in the driveway that you sit up, wiping the remnants of sleep delicately from your eyes to sigh. It’s going to be a long day.

Dumdumdum, three quick taps echo in the quiet, the door creaking open as a curious head peeks around the side. Ryunoslav smiles when he sees you perched in bed. His eyes drift from your face, down your neck and to your breasts, the skin pricking up under his sharp gaze. You could strike a match and it would erupt into flames.

“What are you doing here, Ryu?” you ask. It comes out more accusatory than you would’ve liked but he just grins, teeth ready to bite any jab you throw.

“I told you I’d come, didn’t I?”

For a raucous man, Tanaka moves stealthily across your floor, kicking off his boots before planting two large hands onto the edge of the mattress. You can feel it dip with his weight as he crawls, veiny forearms caging in your legs, trapping you. He sways side to side, spine rolling like a panther about to pounce. You kick his left hand out so he falls, crashing and rolling to the spot where Daichi laid with a laugh, peering up at you with fervent energy.

“His bed isn’t even cold yet.”

“Ha! He barely slept here, Val.”

“And you will?” Skepticism laces your words, the irritation of last night seeping into your thoughts once more. His smile finally drops.

“Nyet, of course not. You know that.” Tanaka twists around so that he’s cross-legged, facing you fully, eyes searching your own. “I’ll just fuck you.” You scoff.

His hands plant themselves on your thighs, the eyes tattooed on the back staring at the ceiling, observing the heavens. They travel gradually up to where the sheet lays scrunched around your waist, fingers pinching the edges.

“Give you more pleasure than he does before going back to my lonely bed. Without you.”

“It doesn’t sound like you’ll be lonely for much longer, Ryunoslav.”

Tanaka chuckles under his breath, shaking his head as he pulls the duvet down to unveil you before him. His chest rises and falls so fluidly with his deep breaths, a movement so calm, yet he freezes when his eyes rake over your luscious figure.

“How the Boss does not have you under lock and key astounds me.”

Your hand slaps across his face, a fire burning from your palm down to your groin.

“I will not be someone’s pet.”

Lust overcomes Tanaka’s pupils, his lips curling up in ecstasy at your stern tone, his cheek pounding along with his heart.

“No, you will not.”

Then, his mouth captures yours.

Hot, hungry, the spring in his spine expands so that his chest presses against yours, jaws stretching up. Desperate hands clutch at your neck, the fold of your hips, anything to pull himself tight to your body, anchored to your skin and bed. It’s sinful, even whores refuse to do something so intimate. You feel that heavy tongue drag against your bottom lip, asking your permission to enter. You welcome it, savoring the taste of Ryu’s desire, his burning passion. His hands drift to tug at the firm muscle of your ass, hauling you to kneel over his lap, supporting and kneading it to a rhythm that you’ve come to know so well.

Your fingers clumsily unbutton his pants, slipping under the fabric to feel your undoing. Tanaka moans into your mouth, growing harder, fiercer in his touch with each stroke up the length of his cock. He wastes no time, patience not his strongest virtue. You detach from the kiss with a heavy sigh, forehead pressing to his as you melt over his fingers. Both your hands press into his shoulders, stabilising your vibrating body from how he rolls your clit between his fingers. He’s too clothed, not enough of his skin available for you to stroke and scratch and bite. You claw at the back of his long-sleeved shirt, he rips it off.

With the shirt discarded over his boots, Ryu’s warm hands wrap around your waist, tilting you back until you lay open for him. His pants come off next, flung haphazardly to the floor so that he kneels before you shamelessly, eyes raking down your naked body. By now, he’s committed every curve, every artwork on your skin to memory that he can draw you with his eyes closed. The peony tattoo at the base of your sternum a siren’s call for his mouth to taste. The heat of his body is a furnace, flames licking your skin as he kisses down your chest, inhaling your intoxicating scent.

“Why don’t I finish what I started, huh?” he parrots the words you whispered to Daichi a week ago. Your gut clenches, your cunt tightening to know he heard that. You almost want to beg him to devour you, but that’s not who you are. Your hand strokes over his shorn hair, his eyes closing as your nails rake against his scalp. Savagely, you squeeze his jaw, fingers pursing his lips, the viper tattooed near your wrist ready to strike.

“So snarky. I can think of more important uses for your tongue, Ryunoslav.”

He grins, the round of his cheeks tensing in your clutches before he turns his head to nibble at your thumb, sucking it down.

“As you wish, Valentina.”

Tanaka kisses down your stomach to the apex of your mound, squirming until he nestles between your outstretched legs and his arms wrap themselves under your thighs, an iron grip on your hips. You brace yourself to feel that vacuum, that eternally deep suction that clings onto your soul and merges it with his, but all you can feel are soft exhales. He stares up at you, an indiscernible look on his face.

“Ryu?” you come onto your elbows. The very sight of the man between your legs is enough to make you shiver. He plants a kiss to your thigh.

“You know I will do anything for us, for you.”

“I know.”

“Even fuck a whore once if it means I get to stay with you for just another more day.”

You grit your teeth, knowing it’s true, and although he shouldn’t be saying such intimate things—that you can never truly be together—it’s what you needed to hear. You remain silent, watching him as he lowers his mouth to your seeping skin, licking languidly to taste you on his entire tongue. It’s flat, wet, heavy, pressing into you so solidly you fall back down, eyes closing as you capsize. Tanaka demands whimpers, his name, with his touch. He’s insatiable, greedy to feel you come undone completely, this time with no interruption.

Two fingers test your waters, slipping between the waves of your folds while his tongue drags you under. You know his ocean-grey eyes never stop watching as you writhe under his ministrations. You can barely move, clenching around his skilled hand as though keeping him anchored in place. You want him, need him. The first pulse of your walls spurs him on, stirring the storm in your groin, until you can barely contain your moans for him. Your orgasm batters against the shores of your body, powerful waves washing over you and dissolving all your stress and irritation, leaving you gasping and heavy, weighted down and sluggish.

“Fuck, baby,” Tanaka swears against your skin, still pumping his fingers against sopping skin to feel how you contract around him. The stimulation almost has you in tears and you grab his wrist to pull him away, closer to your lips. You swallow down your tang, the kiss passionate yet lazy as he ruts against your tingling clit, hands wrapped around your head to almost cradle you against him.

“You were very loud,” he chides, but you know he loves it, the danger. “You are lucky no one is in the house tonight.”

“Do you want me to keep quiet, Ryu?” you moan into his mouth, biting his lip against a particularly rough thrust.

“Never,” he grins, sitting back so that he can observe your glassy look, you pout at the sudden chill. There’s a moment of protest, his body too far away, before your eyes roll back and you’re stretched out, overflowing with the feeling of him, your vision black.

Part 4 - Tanaka

Ryunoslav wishes he could lay behind Valentina eternally, watch as she wakes and stretches, but he knows he can’t. He unfurls his lithe chest from her back, and stands to dress before sneaking back to his cabin. The cold air nips at his cheeks, but it would take a snowstorm and him being naked to freeze over the warmth radiating from inside his chest. Under the cover of dark, even at 6:00 am, Tanaka makes it back without being seen, like he always does.

He winces as he shrugs off his coat and scarf, the scrapes on his back from her nails stinging beautifully. His thoughts drift: what she must think when she wakes up in the mornings to find the bed empty, either without him or Daichi, and whether he’ll ever see her under his own covers, laughing while sipping a coffee on a summer morning. Ryu shakes his head to absolve those thoughts, it’s dangerous to linger on dreams for too long.

The box of condoms on his dining table stand out like a sore thumb, and he shoves it into the closest drawer, the eyes on his hands giving him a mocking stare. ‘What would your mother say?’ it blinks at him, pulling his mouth into a scowl. Turning the kettle on, he pulls up Sergei’s number on his phone.

“Khazak, it’s early.” Sergei’s morning gruff is thick, coughing lightly as he clears his throat.

“Dobre utra, Sergei, sorry, I know.”

“What is it you need?” Tanaka can almost picture the cool gaze, the pinched brows beneath silver hair that the bookkeeper has on whenever speaking to the head of security.

“Ukai, has all been fixed?”

“Uka– Ryunoslav, could this not wait until a more reasonable hour? Yes, it’s resolved. The guy wired the remaining amount last night. God knows where he got it from but I don’t care.”

Tanaka opens his mouth to speak, but Sergei cuts him off.

“I swear, call me this early again and I’ll hang you from your ears.”

The Khazak laughs, wishing the old ‘friend’ a good day as he hangs up. That clears up most of Tanaka’s schedule, and he falls onto his bed, groaning when the whistle of the kettle rings loud in the room. It’s too similar to the alarm bells in his mind when he thinks about the call he has to make later.

***

Ryunoslav shivers, peeling off the used condom to tie a knot in it. It wasn’t too bad. With the prostitute's ass in the air, he could almost picture it was her. He watches as she pulls up stockings and a dress, her only layers beneath a thick coat and hat. The prostitute looks over her shoulder with her hand resting on the door, appreciating the view. Tanaka sits on the edge of the bed, naked and bored.

“This was fun. Call me anytime,” she purrs with a wink, pleasantly fucked, before leaving. He grumbles, falling backwards so that air whooshes past his ears as the mattress creaks under his body.

She’s going to kill me, he thinks, picturing Val’s face with the disapproving glare that always seems to rile him up. A part of him wonders if he went through with it purely to piss her off, make her mad with jealousy, just like he can be.

***

Tanaka must’ve dozed off because he wakes to the sound of his front door being pounded, the clock next to it showing quarter to midnight. He swears, scrambling to toss the condom he left on his thigh into the open basket bin and pull on the nearest pair of pants. He has just finished tying the drawstring when the door swings open and Valentina strides in, arms crossed in front of her chest, white flakes of snow on the Hermès scarf wrapped around her hair.

He’s frozen, a deer in headlights, silent at seeing her standing in his doorway, both beautiful and deadly. He watches as analytical eyes scan the single-roomed cabin, finally taking it all in. For some reason, he feels shy, a blush creeping up his neck. He has always wanted her in here, but now that she is, he feels like it’s not good enough.

Tanaka follows her gaze: sweeping from the small kitchen, to the two person table and chair, in the corner are the leather armrests and a coffee table. Directly by Val’s right is a mirror and coat hook, the wooden-heated walls sparsely decorated with a map of old USSR and new Russia, along with a single lily in a simple frame. He sees her stare past him, to the arch that separates his bedroom, analysing the unmade bed. Tendrils of cold sweep by him from the still-open door. She does not move a muscle.

Valentina opens her mouth as if to say something, then closes it, walking to the kitchen counter where a half-finished bottle of vodka sits. Tanaka’s door shuts with a click, and when he turns, she has already pulled out a shot glass.

Has she been drinking? he thinks, rubbing the goosebumps up his arms, the callouses scraping some still-healing scabs. He gets his answer when she barely winces her swallow.

“Do you want to sit down?” Tanaka asks, approaching carefully, gesturing to the sofa; she’s a cornered viper. Val turnz, leaning against the marble top, coat still wrapped tightly around her body. Her lips purse, and he stills, knowing she’s either trying to put together a sentence or hold back uttering one. But Ryunoslav doesn’t know her to hold back often.

“Did you do it?”

He didn’t expect the question to flow from her lips so calmly, hushed and smooth like an expert interrogator; the way he would speak. There’s no point in lying.

“Da,” Tanaka steps closer, reaching past Val’s head for a second shot glass. She makes no effort to hand him the bottle. “It’s just sex.”

He almost recoils from the daggers in her stare, pupils shrinking into slits that can cut through him. I should not have said that, but if he lied, he wonders if she’d be just as furious. Valentina looks down and spots the discarded condom, sighing while twisting open the cap of the bottle to drink straight from the lip, past the point of using a glass.

“I thought of you.”

A faint flicker of relief, but then she laughs, curt and cold.

“I’m so flattered, Ryunoslav, thank you.”

He feels his heart tighten, forehead pounding, with more than guilt.

“Blyat, what the fuck else was I supposed to do?” he snorts, storm brewing in his eyes, fists clenching. His face is so close to hers, he can smell the alcohol on her breath. He can see her searching for answers within his own.

“I don’t know, but,” her eyes close, the small wrinkle between her brow dissolving with an inhale. The exhale has them open, blank, her lips in a neutral line. Somehow, this scares Ryunoslav even more. He feels his heart hammer beneath his ribs, either trying to escape or to jump into her palms. The bottle is no longer in them, but the belt of her coat, pulling it loose so that it unfurls from her chest. He see’s skin, a clavicle, ripe mounds of breasts. The flower tattoo peaks out from the shadow until it disappears and the top of underwear wraps around her waist. She’s not wearing the Family pendant. When the coat drops off her shoulders--the wool scrunching into a thick pile at her feet--he notices she is still wearing boots, but legs bare; she used the underground passage to get to his cabin.

“If you prefer to fuck a shlyukha, you just had to say so.” Valentina says, fingers trailing up the skin of her waist while keeping his gaze. Tanaka can’t respond, doesn’t want to, anything he says is fuel to her wildfire. “I can be a whore.”

She’s raging, the very air around her too thick for Tanaka to breathe easily, and when she takes a step forward, he imitates backward. He’s controlled by her until he collapses into his leather armchair and she towers over him, bare-breasted and deadly.

Valentina’s fingers tug at the knot of the scarf, slipping the silk through her fingers as she regards the man before her, twisting it into a tight coil until ready to spring, like her.

It’s those eyes, she realises. Stormy, grey, like a tumultuous ocean swallowing her body whole, ravaging and cleansing her all at once. She can’t stand to see them now. Tanaka doesn’t protest when she leans over him, unfurling the scarf to tie it around his head, blindfolding him. Ostensibly for control. She knows otherwise that his eyes will make her crumble down, dissolve into their depths.

Tanaka’s heart thumps, pressing against his ribcage furiously enough to shake his chest. Any argument cut off in his throat when he feels Valentina’s lips against it. His body begins to cover in a cold sweat, confused with the hurdling emotions inside: panic, guilt, anger, and underneath it all, arousal.

“Have you even showered yet,” she whispers against his skin, “or is this taste hers?” A hot tongue drags up the side of his neck until it touches the puff of his earlobe, teeth nipping. If Tanaka looks down past the tip of his nose, he can see her palms gripping the arms of the chair, the plush leather folding in. He can see the curve of her shoulder and the tail of the snake as she leans into him. And he can feel the warmth of her skin when she straddles him.

It’s not tight, her ass seated on the edge of his knees, but he feels heat anyway. It rolls off Valentina’s body in waves, washing over him so that he begins to pant. Nails rake up his chest, goosebumps pricking on his forearms which he keeps still, away from reaching out to wrap around her and bring their bodies together.

“Did she touch you like this?” Valentina’s hand wraps around his throat, the other drifting to the tent in Tanaka’s sweatpants. When she stops moving, he realises she expects a response.

“Nyet,” he grunts out, erection twitching beneath her palm, the vein in his neck swelling.

A brisk exhale fans over his face, then he smells the peppercorn and vanilla of her skin as she lifts from his knees. She must be close, the static between his lips and her stomach electric. He bites his tongue to stop from tasting her skin. When she falls, her hand had shifted his erection from the loose constraints of his pants, free and standing to attention. There’s fire and rain, and Tanaka peers down to make out the black of Valentina’s underwear clinging to her slick folds, nestled against his groin. It provides slight relief, knowing she is aroused like him.

She begins to roll her hips. On instinct, Tanaka shifts down into a slouch to bring her higher, to feel more friction. His fingers jump where they rest on the chair, fighting not to grab at her, palms sweating. For Valentina, this is easy. Men are so responsive, so easy to lead and dissuade, and fuck. They treat sex as though it is nothing.

It’s sex, Ryunoslav’s words echo in her hazy mind, her hands flying to his shoulders as though to bring her back to her actions. Focus on the movement, it tells her, and she grinds down onto him. She feels as he pants against her neck, her breasts moving to press against his chest so that he can feel all of her at once, reminded of what he missed. The jealousy in her heart pains her, knowing that it’s irrational to feel ownership over a man that is not truly her’s. But she feels it regardless. She wants him completely.

His neck is thick beneath her palm, veins beating steadily in time with the grinding of her hips. The line of her folds wrap around him, dragging up and down his length that when she looks down, she sees it weep. The tightening of his gut tells her even more and she grins almost wickedly.

“Does it feel good, Ryu?” she whispers against him, lips hovering teasingly above his own. Tanaka tries to close the gap. She’s near, yet so far away, unreachable in her anger.

“No, you don’t get to kiss me. Not when I’m your whore.”

He moans then, shamefully turned on by the hard edge of her voice and the soft skin wrapped around him, coaxing something out from within.

“Val,” he utters her name under his breath, the fog in his mind not clearing as it builds higher, tighter. She can feel the storm brewing. His shoulders tense, forearms hovering as though-

“Do you want to touch me?” she bites at his ear, one of his most sensitive features. It takes Tanaka everything to hold back, his hips thrusting up desperately.

“Yes. God, yes.”

“What’s stopping you?”

Valentina watches as the gold, browns and pinks of her scarf wrinkle with his frown.

“You never said I could.”

She falters for a moment, taken aback by the worship and strain in his voice. This is why she covered his eyes, she never knew she had to gag him as well. Some of the ice in her heart begins to melt, dripping down her chest like the sweat on Ryunoslav’s forehead.

“Touch me.”

His hands are on her instantly. With her back under his calloused palms, he can feel every movement of her waist, her hips. He strokes up, her body memerised so thoroughly he can paint a replica of her in his mind. With the eyes tattooed on the back of his hands, he sees her. It was the last push he needed, the rain clouds in his mind bursting as he spills a storm over his abdomen, finding clarity.

It’s wet, warm and cold simultaneously. He feels Valentina’s forehead fall to his shoulder, her spine shaking. There’s a sniff, the smallest of tears leaking into the dips of his muscled shoulders. With one hand, he presses her tightly, his ejaculation spreading messily between their bodies, the other rips the scarf from his eyes so he can drink in the sight of her, his nose nuzzled into her hair.

“Val...” he mumbles against her skin, fingers combing through the hair at her nape, lips finding contact with her neck, then temple. “Look at me, pazolvste.”

And when she does, the world stops. He tries to read the swirl of emotions in her eyes. Is it exhaustion? Arousal? Defeat? All three? Tanaka brushes sweaty strands from her neck, forehead, smoothing down the hair. Valentina glances at his lips, or her eyes drop, either way, with the next inhale, their lips meet.

Part 5 - Valentina

Tanaka tastes different. Tangy and bitter, the kind that makes you want to tear away, only to constantly come back for another sip, addicted. You’re sticky, the sweat from his chest and the spill of his seed spreading against your stomach, screaming at you to separate from him. Everything is telling you to stop.

But you can’t

And you never want to. His tongue swipes across the seam of your lips, and you happily oblige, too weary from the rollercoaster of emotions that had ripped through you to fight for dominance. Tanaka, however, doesn’t seem to mind, your tongues intertwining so seamlessly, you briefly wonder if you’ll ever separate them again.

He pulls apart to breathe, chest still heaving from his orgasm and your mind games. Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, you realise what you’ve done, how full of blind rage and hurt you were. Tanaka registers the panic in your eyes, the way your mouth opens to say,

“I’m sorry.”

You’re suddenly smaller, eyes downcast to stare at his chest, tracing the outline of the Georgian cross tattooed over his heart, the eight point star on each shoulder beneath his collarbones, reminding you that you’re in a world of thieves. That you yourself are one, and you crossed a boundary tonight that you’ve never crossed before. In his residence. He lifts your chin with a steady finger, forcing you to stare into still, open waters.

“It’s okay.”

But it’s not, you’re not okay. Tanaka must’ve sensed the growing unease as you shift on his lap, knees still pressed tightly to his hips, his softened dick lazing against your groin.

“I would’ve stopped you if I didn’t want it,” his voice is a hushed whisper, washing over you.

“I should not have come here tonight.”

“I’m happy you did, Gadyuka.”

For some reason, you believe him, the tides in his eyes pulling you closer so that once again your lips melt into his and your heart drums in your throat. Ryunoslav unzips your boots, letting them drop unceremoniously to the floor. His hands find purchase beneath your rear, and he stands, lifting you so easily as he carries you through a small door and into the bathroom.

It smells like him: salty, humid, yet crisp, like cold mist when the seasons change. You reluctantly break apart when your feet touch the cool tile, and you look around while Ryu draws a bath. There’s no mirror over the sink--instead on the tiled wall opposite the shower--just a shelf with his electric razor, toothbrush and some creams. The thought that you’d like to shave his head flits across your mind, but you shake it out, turning to watch him fill a simple wooden bathtub with steaming water.

“Are you going to wash me like a child?” you ask, eyebrows raising to show your amusement. He chuckles, his eyes matching your teasing tone, the tension of before dissolving with the mist in the air.

“Nyet, unless you want me to,” he muses, eyes drifting across the splattered cotton against your skin. “You are dirty.”

You lick your teeth, taking in how he’s seated on the edge, sweatpants still haphazardly down his legs to show a hint of the tattoos and scars on the tops of his thighs, “so are you.”

He holds his arms out and you move to stand between his knees, warm hands trailing up your hamstrings, over the cups of your cheeks and peeling down your soiled black thong. You feel… calm, the rage and guilt subsiding to leave an empty stillness in its place, in your gut, where he rests his forehead and your fingers scrape his scalp.

You bathe first, Tanaka’s rough hands scraping away grime, before you switch and run your hands over his corded muscles. The moment is too intimate to speak, both of you barely even breathing as he wraps a towel around his waist and pulls a too long t-shirt over your head. It’s only when you’re out of the confines of the bathroom that he breaks the silence.

“You’ll have to destroy the shirt when you leave,” Ryu observes, tugging at the shoulder seam so that the neckline centers on your body instead of dropping over one shoulder.

“Do you want me to leave?” you counter, crossing your arms over your chest, fingers drumming in a quick beat against your forearms.

“Never.”

Shrugging, you turn on your heel and stride to the messy bed, ignoring the way your stomach flips as it remembers who was the last woman to touch it--that it wasn’t you--and climb onto the mattress. For the first time, you see Tanaka completely taken by surprise. He’s close to asking you ‘why?’ but thinks against it, hurtling after you to pull you into his arms, against his chest.

This is unchartered waters, the bed a dinghy and in his room are endless possibilities. But that’s where it starts and ends. You drag your fingers lazily up his forearm, over a few scars, tracing the bouquet of lilies drawn in thick black lines that stand off his skin; prison tattoos seldom heal flat.

“What does this mean?” you stare up at him, curious as you’ve never had much time to talk with him before, to delve deeper past your lust for each other. Ryunoslav clears his throat.

“It’s for my home,” he mumbles, nose moving to your hair, his eyes clouding over as he watches your fingers. “And my mother.”

The way he explains the beauty of the wild lilies in his home village of Kazakhstan, the bouquet his mother would pluck and keep on their table, sends shivers down your spine. Why would he ever have run away? You learn he has a sister, Saeko, who left with him and fell into the life of the thieves before him, and instead, he went to prison.

In this little bubble, you feel inexplicably warm, cosy, like the world has fallen away. You tell him about your own mother, how her eyes were incredibly warm and the colour of amber, but she never smiled. About how you grew up in Georgia surrounded by powerful men and strived to be just as important one day. Ryunoslav smiled at that, kissing your wrist where the fangs of the snake bit into.

He tells you about the years he spent in and out of juvenile prison in Moscow, unfurling the duvet to explain that each cathedral dome tattooed upon his leg meant time served. He had four. The rose on his left bicep meant he turned 18 in prison.

“The Boss found me a month after,” he recalls, eyes far away, “I’m forever thankful. I was very sick from the tattoo and I would have died if he didn’t take me away.”

Daichi, a part of you whispers. With the thought of your husband, you tense up, shifting until you’re sitting with your hand pressed to Tanaka’s beating heart.

“Ryunoslav,” you call, looking past his head and into the grain of the wood. “What are we going to do?”

“Mm?”

Your eyes snap to his, a cold sweat tickling your spine. You’ve crossed lines tonight, and not by a little. You’ve run so far past it, you can’t even see it if you turn back.

“He’ll know.”

Tanaka straightens up too, attentive to your words but eyes calm with a lazy smile.

“He won’t.”

“He will. Ryunoslav, I can’t keep this a secret now.”

Beneath your palm, you can feel his heartbeat, slow, while your own pounds in your ears.

“You have to. He’ll kill us.”

You stay silent, mulling over the sincerity in Tanaka’s statement. He says it nonchalantly, like it’s the only fact that matters. You want to tell him that you love him. You don’t. Instead, you lay your head back to his chest to listen to that steady, strong drum beneath his ribs. After a few seconds, you inhale deeply.

“I think Daichi is having an affair.”

“I don’t want to talk about him.” Tanaka says instantly, arms wrapping so tightly around you, as if you’ll vanish if he can’t feel you.

“Ryu-”

“Valentina, please. God knows we never get to be alone like this.” That brash, harsh tone you’re used to finally edges it’s way back into his voice. It should scare you, instead you huddle closer to him while he continues. “Even if he’s having an affair, aren’t we doing the same? Let us just be in this moment.”

Tanaka tucks you beneath his chin, the heartbeat in his jaw syncing with yours against his chest. You murmur a ‘fine’, mind still reeling from the evening's events and the intoxication of his lips.

You’re not sure when you fell asleep, but you know he didn’t at all. Ryunoslav shakes you awake, whispering that you have to go, that Daichi gets back in the late afternoon. When the coat is wrapped around you and your fingers hover over the door, you look at him as he frowns at you.

“We should not see each other for a few days,” he states. Although his voice is calm, his chest vibrates with nerves. You know it’s the last thing he wants. You agree anyway, with a slight nod of your head.

***

NEXT CHAPTER

Thank you for reading.

taglist, ask to be added

@dee-madwriter , @pleasantanathema , @lookslikeleese , @linestrider , @hisoknen , @mindninjax , @whats-her-quirk , @messwriting

487 notes · View notes

ayanna-wild · 4 years ago

Text

Devil Don't Go

Word Count: 1679

Pairings: Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

Warnings: angst, violence, sad fluff, fluff, mentions of drowning, near death experiences

A/N: Request from Wattpad

Summary: This case should have been open and shut, it wasn’t supposed to go this way.

..................................................................................

Your world was spinning, well more accurately you were spinning, in a chair at the LAPD. To be even more accurate Lucifer was spinning you. The case you had agreed to help Chloe with had hit a snag, and every lead you thought you had was coming up a dead end. Which is why you were sitting in a chair, letting your devilish companion lazily twirl you around.

"I still say the manager of the victim's store seemed rather suspicious, are you sure we can't question him again?"

You hung your head back staring at the ceiling, thankful he wasn't spinning you fast enough to make you dizzy.

"He lawyered up, besides he had an alibi."

Lucifer huffed, clearly bored with how slow this case was moving.

"Oh yes, he was with his lover, was it? People lie darling."

You shrugged, placing your feet on the ground to stop yourself from spinning as you turned to look at him. Lucifer smiled when your eyes landed on him, and the corners of your mouth twitched up.

You and Lucifer had grown close since your transfer to the LAPD, and you found yourself helping Chloe on cases she could have solved easily herself. If she noticed she hadn't said a thing, you suspected it was Lucifer who convinced her to ask for your assistance.

This case however, they really did need help on.

"Why do you think they're lying?"

"He barely remembered their name, and his so called significant other, took far to long to recall him." Lucifer reasoned.

You frowned a little, unable to refute his logic, you leaned back in the chair.

"Well...you're right..."

"Of course I am, now put your feet back up, unfortunately this is the most interesting thing I've done today."

Before the two of you could continue your pointless entertainment, Chloe rushed over to her desk, grabbing her car keys. Both you and Lucifer perked up.

"What's got you in such a rush Detective?"

"Ella found us a lead, it might not pan out, but we should still check into it."

You jumped to your feet, grabbing your own keys from Lucifer's hand, who'd been carelessly tossing them back and forth with you earlier.

"I'll follow you."

"Allow me to accompany you." Lucifer beamed.

You raised an eyebrow as you headed for the exit.

"I don't let him press the buttons." Chloe explained.

After the fourth or fifth time of him turning on the siren to frighten unsuspecting civilians you forbade him touching anything as well. He muttered under his breath the rest of the drive.

You'd never understood the appeal decrepit buildings had in the criminal world of LA, but here you were.

"Couldn't they ever choose a nice little café, or someplace not run by rats?" You mumbled to yourself, stepping over what you hoped was an oil stain.

Leaky pipes and moldy smells filled the air as you careful walked along the walls, gun ready and senses on high alert. Your suspect, who had in fact turned out to be the manager, had opened fire as soon as the three of you walked through the door. It forced you away from Chloe and Lucifer, who you were now trying to find.

The platform you were walking on creaked behind you, and you whirled around, gun raised. Chloe froze, raising her hands, and you let out a sigh.

"Find anything?"

She shook her head, and you placed your gun back in its holster.

"Where's Lucifer?"

Her question chilled you to the core, and you stared at her in confusion. Your voice caught as you spoke.

"I thought he was with you..."

You refused to leave your desk, or even take any breaks as you searched through file after file. Called anyone even remotely related to your suspect. Lucifer had been with Chloe, he'd been vulnerable, he could be hurt, or worse.

You shook your head, that line of thinking wasn't going to do anything but make you panic.

A heavy, frustrated sigh left your lips, and you leaned forward, resting your head in your hands on the desk in front of you. Your eyes strained from hours of reading.

"I found something!"

You whipped your head around so fast it almost hurt your neck. Ella ran in, waving a paper around wildly. You and Chloe quickly crowded her and Ella explained everything.

"Okay, so I called around, you know places he frequents, old jobs things like that. There's an old swim center he used to run, a few workers there say he still comes by after hours to do laps."

"What does this have to do with finding Lucifer?" Chloe asked.

"Well I just off the phone with an employee who works there. Mr. Manager man is there now."

You couldn't drive fast enough, flying through red lights and recklessly taking turns. Chloe held onto the dash, shouting out warnings now and then, but she never told you to slow down. She was just as eager as you to find the king of hell.

"Y/N! We need a plan!"

You almost forgot to put the car into park before you got out. Chloe followed after you, calling for you to slow down, but you ignored her. The doors to the pool slammed open when you kicked them, smacking the wall just in time to see the murderous manager shove Lucifer, who was unconscious and tied to a chair, into the pool.

You screamed his name, dropping your gun as you dived into the pool without a second thought. You spotted Chloe running after the suspect just seconds before you hit the water.

The pool was so deep, and the chlorine burned your eyes as you swam towards Lucifer. You didn't know how you were holding your breath this long, but you weren’t really focusing on that. You struggled to untie the ropes around him, but your lungs were beginning to burn.

He's been down there for too long already, you were down there too long, your head growing light.

With no other choice but to surface, you took a large breath before diving under the water again. It wasn't enough time to really catch your breath and your chest tightened, but you finally loosened the ropes. You thanked the adrenaline rushing through your veins that you were able to pull him to the surface and out of the pool.

Violent coughs shook your body as you struggled to breathe again. You were light-headed, but you needed to focus, you had to check on him. Turning your attention to Lucifer you rolled him onto his back checking the injury to his bloody temple, it was sallow nothing to serious, and then you checked his pulse.

Only... there was no pulse.

"No no no...."

You got to your knees, placing your hands in the center of his chest as you began to push fast. You went back and forth between pressing on his chest to blowing breath into his lungs. You weren’t sure how long you kept this up, but you really didn't care to keep track of time right now.

"Come on...Lucifer, please..."

Tears clouded your vision and your arms gave out, you collapsed against his chest, checking his pulse once more, but there was nothing.

"Damn it wake up!" You slammed your fists down on his chest. Your tears ran down your face mixing with the pool water still clinging to your skin, but he didn’t move.

"You promised we'd go out for lunch tomorrow, and you always keep your promises, right?"

You brushed his wet hair from his face as your hands shook.

"So you have to wake up." Your voice broke, and you pressed your forehead against his, crying freely.

"Please don't go."

You almost slammed your head against his when his body suddenly jerked, and he sat up. You jumped back staring at him with wide eyes as he coughed out water from his lungs. He wheezed a moment clutching his chest, before looking around until his eyes landed on you. He gave you a tired smile and a weak chuckle.

"Well that was a wonderfully terrible visit to Hell."

With that joke your worry evaporated, and you fell back against the wall behind you. You ran a hair through your damp hair, and you laughed through your tears.

"You're alive..."

Lucifer looked at you curiously, and he moved closer to you.

"Darling are you alright? Why are you crying?"

He let out a surprised grunt when you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"You were dead you idiot, of course I'm crying."

"But I'm not dead now..."

You huffed, shaking your head as you tightened your hold around him.

"You're missing the point." You spoke lightly.

Lucifer carefully held you, frowning a little when he felt your body trembling.

"You're shaking." He pointed out softly.

"Just cold from the water." You lied.

You smiled, nestling closer to him, you needed to feel his heartbeat his breath on your skin. You pulled back to hold his face in your hands, eyeing the cut on his temple.

"You're bleeding a little still..." You muttered.

He grabbed your hand as your fingers ghosted over the wound. He smiled squeezing your hand a little.

"I imagine my situation would be much worse if not for you."

He smiled, and you slowly realized you were sitting in his lap. You cleared your throat, shifting to move off him, and he sent you a wink.

"Anyway, I'm really happy you're okay."

Lucifer's expression softened, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"Well I couldn't very well stay dead now could I? A promise is a promise."

You looked at him surprised.

"You heard that?"

He chuckled, moving a wet strand of hair away from your eyes.

"It was hard not to, you were practically praying to me."

You rolled your eyes, but you still couldn't help the smile that stretched across your face.

"Just promise you won't go dying on me again."

"I'll try my very best darling." He chuckled.

..................................................................................

Tag List: @sallyp-53 @mizzezm @adira-secrets @we-are-all-alittle-strange-here @gingernarwal @im-just-along-for-the-ride @lifeshortbro @measure-in-pain @emiwrites3reads @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @kelly-n-russell @aiofheavenandhell @beththedemonhunter

#lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar imagine #lucifer morningstar imagines #lucifer morningstar one shot #luciferonnetflix #luciferonfox #Lucifer #lucifer morningstar x you #lucifernetflix

279 notes · View notes

acourtofsnakes · 4 years ago

Text

Solus - Rogue, Chapter 1| Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader(F)

Summary: So I don’t want to give too much away, but a rough outline - You are Force Sensitive, and after being hunted your whole life, you’re not surprised to find another Mandalorian on your tail. What you didn’t expect, was THIS Mandalorian. Nor anything that happen’s after. And so begins a journey of two Rogues (three if you count the womp rat).

Warnings: Not many in this chapter as it’s an opening but, mentions of death, angst?, swearing, fighting, my rusty writing after I haven’t done it in years, let me know if there’s anything else!!

AN: So, I think this might be a little messy in terms of tenses. It jumps around from the past to present a little too, so I’m sorry if its confusing… Let me know what you think!! And if you want to be added to the taglist!

Word count: Just over 4k.

Rogue Taglist: @snipskixandbeskar @weirdowithnobeardo

Mando’a translation: Solus - Alone

Alone.

That word had come to change its meaning over the years. When you were a small child, alone meant you were outside, playing in the grass and flowers with your parents just a few metres away indoors, within sight of you still. Close enough to come running should anything happen to you. Including that time you got stung by a bee and screamed so loudly the neighbours thought you were being raided.

A few years later, alone meant being shut away inside your room, windows closed, door firmly shut.

“It’s for your own safety, honey, you know what will happen… We don’t want this for you, we hate this, but we must keep you safe, my darling.”

You understood, of course. It was your own fault; you didn’t mean for it to happen… But just because you understood, it didn’t mean you had to like it.

A year on, alone changed properly for the first time.

The true meaning of the word hit you like a speeder when you were kneeling in the mess on the dusty ground.

Blood had soaked your knees, staining your tunic. It had coated your hands, your arms as you frantically shook the shoulders of your mother, willing her to open her eyes, to sit up and hold you. To stroke your hair and tell you it was okay, it was all just a bad dream. To take you home, where you could forget this whole thing.

It didn’t truly sink in until you heard your fathers strangled scream as he ran around the corner…

And then the sickening hiss and sizzle as the blaster hit him square in the chest. The way he tried to crawl across the ground to you and your mother, but there was a heavy white boot planted firmly in his back, a gloved hand yanking his head up and a vibroblade sliced across his throat.

His blood had coated your own bare feet as you ran to him.

You were only 12.

From that moment on… you were truly alone. No family. No more friends, they had all left when you showed them your power. Such a beautiful, natural thing, being in line with the Earth, the energy that connected all living things. It was rare, meant to be celebrated…

Instead, it just bought death upon those you loved.

So, as you ran from the horror scene within the market square, your parents blood baking onto your skin in the hot sun, you buried it. Deep inside, locking it in a box, surrounding it in darkness and keeping it hidden.

And that’s where it had stayed for the last 20 years.

~~~

Sorgan was a good place to be for a little while.

The air was breathable, the forests thick and lush, providing good cover, and the inhabitants were spread few and far between. It was quiet, the only habitable planet in its system, in fact, so it was… safe?

Well. That’s what you had told yourself when you made the split decision to come here after somehow managing to stow away on a ship that just happened to be going there.

You’d just been attacked by a Trandoshan bounty hunter, chased halfway across the planet you were on and forced to dump most of the belongings you’d managed to acquire for yourself in an effort to get away. The green lizard humanoid was… beyond eager. Hunting was their way of life, they thrived on the ritual of it and this one was no different. He was relentless. Constantly tasting the air for your scent with that disgusting flickering tongue. He’d even licked your neck once and you thought you might throw up all over his weird, scaly body.

It had gone on for more than a week before you decided to try and get the jump on him. You laid a trap, using his eagerness against him and it had worked…. Mostly. You fought, hard, managed to sever his arm and you were just going in for the kill when out of nowhere the tables turned. Knocking away your weapons, he’d pinned you to the ground, a wickedly sharp blade pushing into your shoulder and scraping bone.

He took one look at you, battered, exhausted, blood soaking your shoulder and burst out laughing, preening in glee that he’d finally caught you, finally managed to capture the girl everyone wanted (you hadn’t bothered to ask if he was employed by the Republic or the Imperials. At this point, it didn’t matter anymore).

What he failed to notice in his gloating, was the vibroblade you pulled from the sheath on your thigh. One moment, he was laughing, the next, his head was thudding onto the ground next to your own, mouth still open in glee, reptilian tongue lolling out.

The next hour or so had been a blur, making your way through the town again, cloak pulled up over your head and over your shoulder to hide the wound. You’d managed to steal cloth and a tincture from a street vendor, binding and cleaning the knife wound whilst hiding in a small alley. It was there that you saw the ship, only a small cargo ship, the door left open. You’d slipped in like a ghost, settling between some crates of unidentifiable objects and let yourself slump, adrenaline leaving your body, leaving it shattered and full of pain. Too close. You’d almost been caught and taken back Maker knows where. Luckily you had that blade, one you’d stolen from an Imp a couple years back after he’d tried to capture you.

As you hid in the cargo hold, you heard the co-pilot ask about the turquoise planet.

“Sorgan? Why Sorgan? That place is beyond boring. I’m surprised the people living there haven’t started a war just for something to do.”

The pilot had laughed, “You’re right there. Barely anyone comes out here anymore. Most people don’t even remember it’s here.”

That suited you just fine then. A mostly empty planet with a krill-fishing village that kept to itself, swamps and forests… hey, maybe you’d finally get a chance to relax.

Since then, you’d found a little place in the forest, up high in some clustered branches, near a source of running water. It was high enough to stay out of the way of predators, but close enough to the ground that you’d be able to spot any enemies – and get away quickly.

You’d even made a friend here.

Well… sort of.

Your first night on the planet, you were trekking through the forests when your legs had just… given out. You were spent, mentally and physically, blood pooling through your fingers from the knife wound which had since opened up again. As you lay there, staring through the canopy, you decided that maybe this was it now. Maybe it was time to give up the fight.

You had been running for so long, it was a way of life now. Had more injuries than you could count and been hunted by twice as many people. Hunters and mercenaries of all species and origin, IG-11 droids, the occasional Imp or New Republic official, even a Mandalorian once – that one had been bad. You’d had to give in after you killed him and go to a hospital, he’d left a blaster hole in your thigh so deep you could see bone.

It was quiet here, peaceful, you remembered. The treetops had begun to blur and swoop under you as you came to your decision.

I’m sorry, mumma, I’m sorry, papa. I tried, but I can’t do it anymore.

You had closed your eyes, giving into the darkness with a final goodbye and letting it wash over you like a tidal wave.

Only to be woken up what felt like seconds later by a wet nose and furry face pushing against your hand. Lifting your head, you’d blinked away the blurriness to find a rounded, big eared head resting on your hand. A Loth cat. It appeared that you’d gotten yourself a little friend.

Since then, she hadn’t left your side, following you everywhere, climbing up the trees and curling up on your lap of a night. You weren’t sure what had drawn her to you, but… it was the first companion you’d had in such a long time, and her warm body against yours was such a comforting feeling that you couldn’t bear to part with her.

That was a few weeks ago.

Nothing had happened in those few weeks. No fighting, no threats, no beeping of tracking fobs waking you in the night and sending you hurtling for the trees.

Nothing but trees, swamps and your furry little friend that you’d called Duru, after a childhood friend.

The only thing bothering you at this point, was your arm. You’d managed to smuggle some herbs from an apothecary hut in the fishing village, but it wasn’t healing properly. The wound had sealed, but it ached. Insistently. Some days it wasn’t too bad, but most of the time, it caused you enough grief that you struggled to grip anything. It was just lucky it was your non-dominant side.

A small groan left your lips as you rubbed at the skin around the wound, perched on a low branch, watching the village. The string of your bow dug into it, sending small shockwaves down your nerves and making your hand spasm. You shifted the bowstring, curling your hand into a fist and releasing it again to get some feeling back into it, an absent action as you just watched the day-to-day life of the village.

It soothed you in a way, just watching people go about their daily lives, how each person had a part to play. Even though you hadn’t met any of them and doubted they knew you were there, you liked and respected them nonetheless. So, whenever you snuck into the village for supplies, you always left something in return. Prey you’d shot down in the forest for food, herbs you’d gathered, fish you’d caught. Just a small way to say thank you to the for keeping you safe, even if they didn’t know it.

You weren’t sure how long you had been sat there for, eyes closed, one leg dangling from the branch and just enjoying the sunlight on your face, the cool and faintly briny breeze when Duru suddenly shot to her feet, a low growl rumbling from her throat. Your eyes snapped open in an instant, bow drawn and pointing into the forest, ignoring the lick of pain as your shoulder protested.

You scanned the branches, the ground below but… nothing. There was no-one there, but Duru was still staring, eyes fixed on something you couldn’t see. You huffed, leaning back against the trunk. She probably just saw a bird or a bug or something.

Still, you remained on edge for the rest of the afternoon, your hand flying to the hilt of your knife at every little crack of branches or whisper through the trees.

It took you a long time to sleep that night, but your body eventually gave in and fell into a somewhat fitful slumber, hand still resting on your bow just in case.

---

Beep.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Beep. Bee-

Within seconds, your eyes shot open and you were bolt upright. You knew that noise.

Instinct took over and you grabbed Duru, urging her still sleepy body onto your shoulders as you scrambled down the tree trunk… only to fall the last metre because of your shoulder.

Stifling the cry of pain, you shot back to your feet and took off running, in the opposite direction of that noise.

You’d been too relaxed, let your guard slip down too much here. You should have left the second Duru went on alert last night. Of course, her instincts were so much better than yours, but you ignored it. Like a fucking fool.

The curses kept slipping from your lips as you ran, not daring to see who was behind you just yet. Maybe you’d get lucky, maybe it was just a normal hunter, looking for a big job, not realising the countless that came before him or her. Or it.

You almost laughed to yourself as you zig-zagged through the trees, feet flying over the undergrowth.Maker, you had to get off this planet, it was making you too lax.

The predator’s presence was like a dark cloud behind you, slipping through the trees, lapping at your heels every time you thought you had gotten away. Trees and branches whipped past your face, stinging but you didn’t have time to brush them away. You didn’t even have time to turn your bow and shoot an arrow, the hunter was just that close. Your brain worked frantically, seeking for a way out, an escape, a distraction, anything.

Wait.

A distraction.

You cursed yourself again, drawing in a ragged gasp of air into your aching lungs as you fumbled at your belt. You had a small flash grenade in a pouch on your belt. You used to have three, you’d had them for years and only used them for dire situations. Like this one, you just need a distraction, even for just a few seconds to get up into a tree.

Duru dug her claws into your shoulders for grip – ow, claws - as you activated the grenade and threw it over your bad shoulder without even turning around. The hunter was so close behind you, you knew it would work no matter where you aimed.

As the grenade exploded into light, you shielded both your eyes and Duru’s with the hood of your cloak, putting on a burst of speed and adrenaline and you bolted for a tree to your left, practically flying up into the canopy. Without hesitation, you began to make your way through the trees, almost sobbing with relief to the Maker that the branches intersect and cross over so that you can make your way across them.

After about 10 minutes of moving through the air, you stopped, hunkering down against the trunk of a huge willow tree as you tried to haul air into your lungs, whilst staying quiet. The pain in your shoulder nearly brought tears to your eyes, the ache in your chest but you stayed still, breathing in through your nose slowly, then out through your mouth, massaging the stitch in your side.

Was the hunter still all that way back? Was he looking for you on the ground? Maybe he was in the trees too, opposite you, watching and waiting to-

“You can’t hide from me.”

The voice came from below and somewhere to the right, a few metres away. On the ground then. The voice sounded male, a little distorted, but that may have just been the roaring of blood in your ears.

You barely breathed, scanning your surrounds and slowly rising to a crouch on the branch, calming your body into a hunters pace of your own. Slow, even movements, balancing your weight as you crept around the tree to a branch on the other side.

Even Duru was silent, hunkering around your neck, her head barely peeping out of your cloak.

“You might have evaded all the others, but you can’t run. Not from me.”

Typical. You rolled your eyes as you slipped along the branches like a phantom. Another hunter thinking he’d get the glory because he captured you. The faint call of fear in your blood quietened as you realised he was just like the others.

Let him gloat, you thought. He could be dispatched as easy as the ugly reptile last time. And his tongue.

You kept your ears pricked as you eased over to the next tree, but you couldn’t hear him. Obviously trying to get the jump on you. You let out a silent laugh as you reached the adjoining tree and began to descend.

“I can bring you in warm. Or I can bring you in cold.”

You froze, going rigid, praying the leaves would hide you as one foot dangled in the air. He was right underneath you.

You dared a glance down, finally looking at your current attacker and…

Nearly fell from the tree.

Standing on the ground below you, pulse rifle pointed at you was a tall figure. Decked out in beskar armour so shiny you could have done your hair in it, the infamous helmet covering his face, tilted in an almost casual, cocky expression.

A Mandalorian.

The Mandalorian.

You’d heard whispers of this one. That beskar armour, more than any other Mandalorian has ever laid their hands on, paid for by the collection of a high-stakes bounty. A bounty which he stole back, from the hands of The Client and Stormtrooper bodyguards, breaking Guild code and going on the run. Wanted by The Galactic Empire, The Guild, and countless others, he became a rogue, travelling the Outer Rim with his little green child in tow, completing jobs and missions for normal people, all the while being hunted himself by Moff Gideon. He was relentless, one of the best, not hesitating to kill if someone threatened him or the Child.

Someone obviously wants you very, very badly, to call upon a wanted man to track you down.

And he obviously wants to bring you in just as much, to take the risk of this hunt. You briefly wonder just how much he’s being offered.

Fuck. You’re really screwed now, aren’t you?

All of this flashed through your mind in an instant, as your arm shook with the pull of your body weight on the wound. You made as if to move, put suddenly he’s there before you’ve even let your foot drop, a gloved hand grabbing the bottom of your cloak and yanking you to the ground with a thud. Duru made a yowl of protest, springing off your shoulder and into the trees, which you were relieved about because at least she’d be safe.

Twisting to avoid putting weight on your bad shoulder, you bared your teeth at him in a grin, “I bet you use that line on all the ladies, don’t you?”

Really?? This man, this Mandalorian was going to either kill or take you, and you were trying to flirt with him??

Shaking your head at yourself, you rose to your feet, grabbing your bow, thankful you spent 4 years saving the credits for it. It was made of a strong but flexible metal, perfectly shaped for your height, as familiar to you as your own arm. Its edges were razor sharp, a knifes edge. You spun, swinging it toward him and it lightly clanged as it met the armour on his forearm, the vibration skittering down your arm.

The Mandalorian lifted his other hand, a knife in it that he guided toward your side, “Only the ones that have a bigger bounty than I’ve ever seen on their head.”

You quickly jumped back, but not before he caught you, cutting through the fabric of your tunic and opening a small cut just under your ribs. “Ooh, now we’re onto flattery so soon? Careful, Mandalorian, I’d think you were trying to woo me, not kill me.” You flung out with your bow again, only to have him grab it, yanking it out of your grip and throwing it to the side.

Mandalorian made a faint noise, whether it was disgust or exasperation you didn’t know, “You talk too much” He came at you again, a flurry of fists and kicks that were almost too quick for you, making you realise that you weren’t just fighting some cocky hunter.

This was possibly the most dangerous Mandalorian out there, save for Boba Fett. He wasn’t going to let this go. You were a good fighter, excellent, even, but as you both danced a routine of attack and defence across the clearing, you realised… you just might not walk away from this.

You panted, ducking under his arm as he swung for you. Maybe… maybe you could go and seek help in the village, you could hide in a hut or a boat, beg them to take you in.

It was like he read your mind, seeing what you were planning to do, “Really? You’d lead me into the villages? Haven’t enough people died for you already?” His voice was like a rasp as it come out through the modulator, cutting straight through the clarity of the fight and into your heart, making you pause.

How did he know that? Your parents were common knowledge within the hunters of course, nearly everyone knew, but everyone else, those that tried to hide you…

~“Run!!! Y/N, run. Don’t look back, whatever you see, whatever you hear you must promise me you will not look back.”~

A hard impact to your jaw made you stumble backwards, dragging yourself back to the present. Asshole. He’d distracted you. “You’re talking to me about death? How many have you killed, Mandalorian?” You kicked out at his knee, your boot connected just under the plate that covered his thigh and he partially went down.

The Mandalorian grunted as he rose back to his feet, “I’ve killed, yes. But criminals. Murderers. People who deserve it. I haven’t killed innocent people.” He came for you again, fists up and his blaster out this time

You couldn’t help the shocked laugh as you avoided his advances, slashing out with another small knife, grinning when it found home in his shoulder, “You haven’t? What about all the Jedi your little clan murdered?” You spat out the word clan, punching him hard, ignoring the protest your knuckles made at the impact of the beskar. “You didn’t understand a people, so your first instinct was to slaughter them like animals.”

You could almost feel the frown behind the T-visor of his helmet, “That was before me, I was never a part of the war. And why do you care about the Jedi?”

~“Mumma!! I’m not leaving you!! I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry, this is my fault, I shouldn’t have done anything, I’m sorry!!”

“Shhh, shhh, my darling. It’s alright. They just don’t understand you, that’s all. Which is why you have to run, you must go and find your father and be safe, please.”

“There she is!!! Over there! Kill anyone that tries to protect her”~

You hesitated, lost in memories of the past, explosions, screaming and blood. So much blood…

He shot out a grappling line from his vambrace and it wrapped around your ankle and he pulled you off balance and to the ground, again. Weapons made specifically to combat Jedi, people with the same abilities as you, reminding you just how hunted you were. He rose to his feet, walking over to you, “I don’t know why they want you. I don’t know what you’ve done. I don’t care. I just know that you’re a criminal, you’re wanted, and the price on your head is nearly as big as mine.”

You snarled at him, reaching for your vibrobrade and pulling it from your thigh.

He just sighed, kicking it from your hand with one foot easily and at the same time he jammed the end of his rifle against your shoulder, already having marked it as a weakness.

A howl of rage and pain ripped through your gritted teeth, and the edges of your vision started to go black. It was broken by the helmet coming into your eyesight, the moon bouncing off the surface, “Give in. You can’t win. Even if you beat me, more and more people will just keep coming after you.” His voice had turned to honey on a knife edge, persuasive. Wrong.

Right.

You shook your head, as if trying to shake off his words, deny the truth of it even as tears started to burn the back of your eyes. You arched your back from the floor, trying to get up, trying to shift his knee off of you but he was like a damn rock on you, pinning you to the floor. “Fuck off, you’re just as heartless as the rest of them.”

Your power cried out to be used, begged form that place buried deep within you, but you pushed it down. You wouldn’t, couldn’t. Instead, you swallowed, lifting your head and opening your mouth to scream.

Only for his hand to wrap around your throat, his fingers lightly pushing against you. It wasn’t enough to strangle you, or cut off your air supply, but the squeeze of his fingers was enough to warn you that he would do it if you tried to alert the villagers. The Mandalorian leaned down, close enough that you could see your reflection in the black visor. More honey dripped from that voice, worming into your head, your defences.

“More people will die for you. And I don’t think you want that. I won’t touch those villagers, but anyone after me might not be so lenient.” He tilted that stupid helmet, merely watching you struggle with another light squeeze around your throat, another slight prod into your shoulder.

~Explosions lit up the market, local people screaming and running for cover as spices and fruit flew through the air. You choked, searching through the smoke, until your bare feet landed in something warm and wet. Blood.~

As you glared up into the unrelenting metal, you caught your own reflections eyes. Bruised. Battered, snarling. A danger to anyone you came near. How many people had died because of you? Either directly or indirectly? All because you kept running. Maybe you just didn’t deserve it. Deserved to live freely. And hell, you were so tired. 20 years on the run, more if you count the years with your parents. Always having to look over your shoulder, never being able to completely trust another living person. The closest thing you’ve had to a friend in the last 5 years is a Loth cat, and even she left.

It was time to just… give in.

~“Mumma? Mumma wake up, please wake up. You have to, you have to get up, please mumma, PLEASE!!”~

You couldn’t do it anymore.

I’m sorry.

The Mandalorian saw the defeat in your eyes, the way your body slumped into the ground, your muscles relaxed. As a tear rolled down your cheek, you took one last glance at the stars, so you didn’t see him hesitate for just a second before using the shock of his rifle to knock you into darkness.

Next chapter

#the mandalorian x force sensitive! reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x force sensitive! reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian #din djarin #Pedro pascal #Pedro Pascal x you #Pedro Pascal x reader #star wars

342 notes · View notes

lovesanmotion · 4 years ago

Text

yandere!hongjoong | desire

This is: requested

warning: v v smutty bcs happy valentines to yall. stay safe and don’t forget to wear your masks when doing the deed!!

Day 100 of you being locked up here inside Hongjoong’s bedroom. Today marks the day he would completely give you a little freedom, and you should be a little happy at least.

The past three months have been hard on you. You were on your way to school until all of a sudden strong pair of arms wrapped around your frame from behind and knocked you out. The next thing you knew, you were in a room with a man sitting on the foot of the bed. It was none other than your best friend, Kim Hongjoong.

You remember that day, asking him why he had done this to you. He replied by saying that being your friend gave him a little hope that he could survive high school. That despite the hardships he has been going through in his life,you gave him a reason to get up and try again. But what was once an inspiration turned into an infatuation then turned to obsession.

He noticed how you were getting close to Park Seonghwa, campus crush and basketball captain of the team. You also formed a new found friendship with Jung Yunho, the head of the dance club and member of the animal rights association. It was then that Hongjoong started to feel insecure until slowly he was driven out of his sanity.

And now you found yourself here. At first, you argued with Hongjoong and threatened him to rat him over to the police. You were then met with a heavy hand on your cheek, your head spun around and your cheek stinging. That was the first time he laid a hand on you. And you would never forget that. Day by day, Hongjoong would apologize to you. But you gave him the silent treatment. When he didn’t like how you were treating him, he proceeded to threaten you by killing your parents, but it wouldn’t be him who would be doing the dirty work, rather, it is you who would be doing it. Sick with the idea, you immediately talked to him and stopped him from such idea. And then, Hongjoong offered you a proposal.

If in a hundred days you would obey him and not go against his rules, he would give you a bit of the freedom that you wished for. But if you decided to go against him, then the hundred days would double, continuing to increase until the days would prolong. That was when you knew Hongjoong is smart. Even though you are tied in his bedroom, he was already training you to be his. At first, you were doing fine. You thought you could put a front and pretend you weren’t falling for him and his game. But halfway to a hundred days, you found yourself slowly slipping off your grip until you come to conclusion that you lost yourself to him. Less than a hundred days, you have accepted the fact that you have completely submitted yourself to Hongjoong.

His finger would dance around the skin of your legs, slowly soothing them up and down your thighs. How he would cook your favorite dishes and feed you, although they didn’t taste the same just like how your mother made them, you wouldn’t deny how Hongjoong’s cooking has a unique flavor that made you like it as well. He would write songs for you, sing them to you while you sleep. He’s made a few songs for you already that you stopped counting. How his arms would envelope around you, as if protecting you from the loud thunder outside. He was aware that you are afraid of thunder and he was doing his best to calm you down at night. Surprisingly, you calmed down and fell asleep in his arms.

Your thoughts were interrupted when Hongjoong comes through the door, a bright smile painted on his lips.

“I’m so proud of you, baby.” He praises, cupping your face and peppering your face and lips with kisses. “I’ll run you a shower first.” He says, slowly he loosened the ropes around your wrists and ankles, carrying you in his arms. He slowly sat you down first on the counter edge of the bathub to remove your clothing. You bit your inner lip and turned your head down, this is the first time that Hongjoong would see you naked. Slowly ass he places you down the tub filled with scented oils and rose petals.

Before he could leave you to take your bath, you grabbed a hold of his wrist. “Please don’t leave me.” You whispered. And in a matter of seconds, Hongjoong stripped himself off his clothing, you scooted a bit away to give him space before pressing your back on his chest, situated between his legs.

You and Hongjoong didn’t bothered to destroy the silence while his hands caressed the skin of your wrists and all you could hear was his breathing. It wasn’t a deafening silence, it was a rather a silence for longing.

“Okay you can open your eyes now”

Slowly you opened your eyes. Before you a beautiful botanical garden inside a glass room. You marveled at the different beautiful flowers and how healthy they grew.

“While you were locked up in my bedroom, I took the time to make this for you. People are too cruel and judgemental and will only bring you down. But the flowers here will always for you no matter what.” He whispers in your ear. Much to his suprise, you wrapped your arms around his nape.

“Thank you so much! This is the best you’ve given me!” You smile as you slightly lean away from the hug, you plucked up your courage and placed a kiss on his lips.

“My darling is getting bold already.” Hongjoong chuckles softly, wrapping his arms around your waist tightly. “But I have one more to show you.” He took a hold of your hand and lead you further to the glass garden, you didn’t think there would be more to it but what greeted you next was what you love the most.

A flower field.

“When I grow up, I’d want a flower field by my garden! I just love plants so much and I would want..hmm, a hundred different flowers in the field!”

I do remember telling him about that flower field when we were in 7th grade. But I didn’t know that he would actually be serious about making this one for me.

“When did you make this?” I asked, slowly turning my head to face him.

“When do you think? These flowers are very hard to grow and maintain. The day you told me that you wanted a flower field, I immediately had to start working on it.” Hongjoong wraps his arms around me from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder. “I had a hard time looking for the exact flowers that you wanted to see.”

“I want lillies, roses, marigolds, dandelions and tulips! There’s a lot more flowers that I like....but I’ll reserve them some time and write them down on a paper so I wouldn’t forget!”

That afternoon, Hongjoong and I laid down on top of the flower field, using his arm as my pillow. The purple sky sipping through the glass room while the cold air kisses through our skin, making the wind chimes sway and produce little sounds. We were staring deeply into each other’s eyes until slowly Hongjoong leans in and places his lips on top of mine.

I tried to wriggle my way out of his embrace, but he had his arms wrapped around me tightly, like his life depended on me. I tried to regain my breath as I breathed slowly and deeply felt my lips tingling and all the energy flowing in me.

The distance separating our lips seemed so little, as if it was one meter and he was right there. With eyes open, looking at him like I’m seeing someone I love, I felt my body softening and my heart racing.

It was the both of us; our mouths pressed together one more time, our tongues dancing and our breaths mingling and our hearts beating in time. He held me tight against his chest, my heart pounding inside my chest.

“I can’t wait to have you here.” And slowly, Hongjoong switched our positions as he hovers on top of me, situating himself between my legs before he places his lips on mine once more, this time, kissing in a hungry and torrid manner.

With one hand, he wraps them around my neck and his other hand grabs my waist, pulling me up as I willingly let my hands roam all over him, through his clothes.

“Hongjoong, please, I want you.” I whisper, beg.

“I want you too” He says through gritted teeth, feeling his hands roam up my body, slowly sliding the straps of my dress of my shoulder and down to my ankles.

He attaches his lips on my exposed neck, kissing the skin of my neck while I feel his hands slowly slide up my back, unbuckling my white lace bra. His fingers slowly push them down my shoulder, inching it down until I gasp a little. The cool air kissing my exposed skin.

I gasp again as his hands settle on my breasts, fondling and caressing them in his hands. Sticking his tongue out and sliding them down to my shoulder, down to the valley between my breasts and then attaching his mouth on my left nipple. Swirling his tongue crazy like a maniac. My fingers fumbled and gripped on the back of his head, the in between of my legs pooling with wetness already. He lifts his head up and sticks his tongue out, kitty licking my right nipple before nibbling on it gently between his teeth.

“Oh my god, that’s so good” I mumbled, letting out a moan, I tilted my head and saw a purple mark above my nipple.

“Mine” he growls before turning his head down to place butterfly kisses on my stomach.

“I’m going to have my way with you before I take you” He says, feeling his hardened length brush against my leg, caressing my legs before ripping my underwear off.

He drapes my legs on top of his shoulders, sticking his tongue out and takes a long lick on my clit. He spreads my folds apart before ravishing them, almost burying his face on my pussy.

I arched my back and let out soft yet loud moans. My hands pushing the back of his head more onto my pussy, feeling his tongue swirl around inside me. His hands that were once resting on my thighs slowly slide up and found themselves once more on my breasts, fondling and gripping them harshly.

“Hongjoong...” I whispered, only to moan once more as sucked my fold gently, moving his tongue accordingly inside me as I felt vibrations my core, spasming after.

“Hongjoong...are you okay?” I asked in a soft tone. Softly he lifts his head up, his lips glistening bright red with my juices.

“More than okay, sweetheart. You sounded so heavenly moaning my name. I wouldn’t mind if I died suffocated in your pussy. If it’s the last thing I saw, I’d die happily and blissfully.” He says before unbuckling his belt, removing his pants along with his underwear and then hovering on top of me once more.

He pushes himself inside me causing me to throw my head back on the flowery field.

“Hongjoong” you gasped out, gripping your hands on his shoulders.

“God, you don’t know how much I fucking love it when you moan my name like that.” He growls, slipping himself out before slamming again once more into me.

“Mine” he spoke in a deep tone as he thrusts harshly inside of me.

Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, sweetheart. And you’re all mine.” He breathes out, never stopping pounding inside of me. He leans down and pushes his tongue inside my mouth. Our tongues roaming around each others mouths, tasting every cavern and crevice.

With the feeling of his tip poking your g-spot, it was enough to already send you on edge. The familiar feeling of tightness building up your stomach as you are reaching your high.

“I’m so close. Please don’t stop.” The words came out like a moan, begging.

“Let’s cum together, sweetheart.”

Hitting your high while moaning his name out loud, you look up as you finally release and let yourself loose, coating his cock with your warm seeds. Hongjoong, shooting his cum inside of you. The once purple sky finally darkened for the bright stars and moon.

He places a hand on top of your stomach, caressing it gently.

“It won’t be long until our own child comes. When that day comes, I’ll love you both to death.”

And you love the idea.

#Ateez hongjoong #ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez yandere #kpop yandere #ateez smut #kpop smut #yandere ateez #kim hongjoong

245 notes · View notes

ahatintimepieces · 3 years ago

Text

Threading Moonlight

Here is the drabble I wrote for @smieska! It’s a prequel in which Luka makes a deal with a mysterious puppeteer in order to escape the frozen cellar his wife trapped him in, with the intent to freeze him solid, and to save their daughter from the encroaching cold. The puppeteer requires that Luka give up something important, but Luka is more than willing when that something seems broken beyond repair...

Content Warnings: Body horror, child neglect/abuse (check end of tags for more detail on both)

Total word count: 3,045

Something shifted inside the cardboard box and Luka jolted awake. The ice seeping into his wrists sharpened at his squirming and he let out a gasp that drifted from his lips in a frosted spiral. He settled back against the stone wall. He metered his breathing to keep it shallow and his movement scarce.

Glancing through the frosted tips of his chestnut curls, he peered up at his raised arms. If he tried to flex his fingers, they didn’t even twitch. But from what he could tell, they didn’t look frostbitten, but rather, it was like the chains of ice had melded with his wrists, turning flesh and bone into cold crystals. The edges of his palms seemed blue like lakes frozen from within as cold crept towards his pale fingers.

Vanessa had warned that she would make him stay. That she would keep him always. Was this how she would accomplish it, then? If he was a statue of snow and ice, would she be satisfied that he would never leave her?

Something wet dripped down his cheek and he flinched back, thinking there was a leak from the ceiling. But when he looked up, all he saw were dry stones and wooden beams. More droplets dripped down his chin and he glanced down as his breath hitched. Salt water pooled on the ground between his crossed legs.

He sniffed as the tears trickled. Each sudden gasp threatening to swell into sobs jostled his aching wrists. But the sharpness of the ice was minute compared to the heartbreak that cleaved through his chest.

How many more tears would he have to shed before he froze solid? How long until he was numb to even the feeling of his torn heart? He stared at the beam of pale moonlight that trailed through the window across from him in the cramped cellar, which was filled with storage boxes bulging with items he and Vanessa had collected over the years. Counting the particles of dust waltzing back and forth through the moonbeam, he nearly drifted back into his blank stupor when, again, something thumped inside the cardboard box.

Luka’s heart skipped a beat as his head snapped towards the box. With silent tears still streaming down his cheeks, he watched as the cardboard box tilted back and forth. The folded flaps suddenly burst open the same time that the box tilted too far and dropped to its side.

Hattie’s favorite toys—all the ones Luka had made for her—tumbled out in waves.

Pinning himself further against the wall, Luka eyed the mound of plushies and wooden figures with apprehension as he waited for a rat or something to appear. A bouncy ball shifted as a shadowy object emerged from within the cardboard. As the rubber ball plunked against the stone and skipped over before rolling against his shoe, the shadowy object stepped into the moonlight and waved its mitten hand.

Luka’s heart flew into his throat as he stared into the black button eyes of a doll that he had made to look like a prince in one of Hattie’s favorite picture books. The doll prince had hair made of chestnut colored yarn and wore a felt crown on his head. Two yarn strands stood out through the crown like a cowlick and his puffy striped sleeves and rounded purple boots added to his princely attire. His round nose and the rosy blush on his cheeks were his only other features, leaving him primarily expressionless as his head flopped down. His mitten hand kept waving.

While Luka stared at the prince plush, the air around it shimmered as spindly, blue fingers appeared around the doll, revealing the one making it stand tall and wave in the first place.

“Good morning, my weeping friend,” a hollow voice as faint as mist greeted from the forming apparition. “Or, good evening, I suppose. Whichever!” A crystalline giggle like the plinking of marbles came from behind a toothy grin painted onto a crescent mask.

Luka blinked through his tears, examining the floating creature who stretched out close to the ground, but hovered just inches above. He had no legs, but rather a ghostly tail the same color as the golden-orange harvest moon. It nearly looked like strings of the pale moonlight kept the humanoid creature suspended. When the creature shifted, the sound of clacking wood trickled through the cellar. His movements were rigid.

“What’s the matter?” he wondered, dropping the plush prince and letting it fall limp against the pile of toys before gliding over to Luka and causing him to jolt. “Your mouth isn’t frozen, is it?”

Stiff fingers pinched Luka’s cheeks and he winced back with a gasp. Fresh tears continued to spill out and dribbled onto the creature’s joints, which creaked.

“Wh-who are you?” Luka stuttered out as he shivered. His breath turned milky white, and the creature tilted his head back to watch the wisps trail upward.

“Call me Moonjumper.” The creature jumped away. His chest jerked back, and an arm folded in front of his chest while the other remained at his side. As he swayed, his jointed body, not unlike that of a puppet, clacked quietly. “And you, my weeping friend?” His voice was airy with laughter, though it was unnerving how the painted, patterned eyes and wide grin on his mask did not move with his bouncing cadence.

“Luka.” He leaned back against the stone with a sigh. A sharpness pressed deeper into his wrist and palm. The ice spread and his tears streamed down his cheeks, staining the collar of his pale dress shirt that was already soiled with sweat and dirt.

“You seem to be in quite the predicament, Luka friend,” Moonjumper made a sound similar to a tongue clicking against the roof of a mouth. “And that won’t do. I can’t play with you if you’re frozen. So, I’m here to make a deal.” He waved his hand and yellowed parchment appeared with a flash of moonlight.

Luka’s eyes narrowed at the parchment as it was flown over to him. He briefly scanned it but didn’t register anything beyond words and phrases about a kingdom and magic. Something about the horizon. And an invitation. While Moonjumper hovered over him, Luka vaguely wondered if he had finally perished in the cellar.

But he didn’t think ghosts could cry or see their breath.

“I’m sure you’d like to be released, would you not?” Moonjumper offered, tilting his head to the side. “Would like to walk free, unburdened by chains.”

If he wasn’t dead, perhaps he was hallucinating. Luka glanced away from Moonjumper and stared at the tumbled box of Hattie’s things. His chest tightened as he thought about Hattie. His breath hitched. He forgot himself for a moment and tried to bring his hand to his cheek to wipe at the swell of tears, but he only managed to cut the ice deeper into his skin. He winced with a gasp, but he did not take his eyes off of the box.

Moonjumper turned his head to follow Luka’s gaze. There was a pause before Moonjumper shifted stiffly between Luka and the box. He bent down, leaning his grinning mask towards Luka’s sniffling features. Luka edged back, avoiding the apparition’s gaze.

“Or perhaps you simply wish to be reunited with your daughter again?” Moonjumper asked.

Luka snapped his head up and looked into Moonjumper’s painted red eyes. A chuckle came from behind the mask as his whole body jostled as awkwardly as a puppet suspended from strings.

“There we go,” Moonjumper twittered before straightening and motioning the contract over. “Of course, when you’re free, you can rescue the little one and leave together. She cried you know, when you weren’t there to tuck her in.”

“Hattie.” Luka scrambled to shift his legs underneath himself. He ignored the burning in his wrists and pleaded as tears blurred his vision, “is she safe? Pl-please tell me she’s safe.” His voice cracked with desperation.

“Safer than you, at the moment,” Moonjumper shrugged his shoulders and caused his lithe arms to clack. “But if you make a deal with me, I can give you magic that can melt your chains and allow you and your little one to go free.”

“I’ll do anything,” Luka swore, leaning forward and towards the contract. Whether this creature was a hallucination or not, he’d make any bargain to ensure his daughter was safe.

“My price is steep, I’ll admit.” Moonjumper’s voice softened. “After ten years, I’ll come to collect you and so many of my toys forget that. Oh, and you’ll have to give up your heart.”

“Take it,” Luka said quickly as tears spilled out. He coughed out a ragged gasp before continuing in a voice as broken as his chest. “Take it, please. I don’t—” he sniffed as sobs structured his voice, “—I don’t want to feel like this anymore.”

“Really?” Moonjumper’s head tilted. “Usually that’s considered too high a price to pay.”

“Are you going to let me help Hattie or not?” Luka tried to scowl but his features crumbled as another sob bled from his chest. “Please,” he choked out. “Please take it away.”

“Very well!” Moonjumper said lightly as the contract drifted underneath Luka’s chin. Tears dribbled onto the dotted line and that must have been enough to count as his signature because shortly after, the contract glowed.

Strands of moonlight laced around the contract like chains and then disappeared in a curtain of light. Before Luka could react, Moonjumper tore through the curtain and pressed his hand against his chest.

Luka gasped, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt a pressure over his ribs. A brief flicker of regret caused him to press against the stone wall, to recoil from Moonjumper’s touch.

Was he truly alright with this? With losing his heart?

Fingers as stiff as wood sunk into his chest and wrapped around his splintered heart. A surge of the despair he’d been feeling since Vanessa first threw him into the wretched cellar drowned him and he whimpered as he struggled to breathe.

“Take it, please,” he begged. He felt a tug on his heartstrings and a whine pulled from his lips as a wave of tears pushed out.

“Almost done, Luka friend,” Moonjumper muttered. “Brace yourself.”

A snap resounded through the cellar and Luka slumped like a puppet with snipped strings. The pressure was extracted from his chest, and he exhaled as Moonjumper backed away.

Luka’s tears ceased.

A burning kindled in the cavity left behind in his ribs and he began to hyperventilate. Suddenly desperate for oxygen, the crackling flames pushed out and heat spread through his body with each gasped breath.

Water dripped from his frosted hair tips and his chestnut curls flared liquid hot until they grew. His locks faded into cinders with a dark violet sheen that spiked out below his shoulders. Heat licked his teeth and he hissed before opening his mouth as his top canines lengthened into sharp, polished points.

Squirming against his restraints, Luka panted as whistling steam emanated from his wrists. His previously unresponsive fingers twitched into elongated claws. He gritted his teeth, piercing his lip with his fangs as a final pulse of flame pushed to his palms. Blue embers burned in his hands and the ice clinging to his wrists shattered before evaporating into steam.

His hands dropped and the embers flickered out as Luka slouched against the wall. His chest rose and fell rapidly with the flame still crackling in his chest. His heated exhales no longer turned to mist.

“There you go!” Moonjumper twittered as he cupped a pulsing, torn lump in one hand and scooped down to retrieve the prince doll in the other.

“What happened to me?” Luka held out his trembling hands before himself, flexing pale fingers that ended in claws.

“You gave up your heart,” Moonjumper answered simply. While floating in the air, he drifted into a sitting position and set the prince doll into his lap. He unbuttoned the prince’s tunic and placed the torn lump onto the doll’s chest.

A strand of moonlight drifted over to Moonjumper’s fingers. He snapped the graceful thread and the cut end bled scarlet. The red crept across the length of the thread as Moonjumper summoned a sewing needle. The string thrust through its eye and the needle dove towards the lump.

Luka jolted when the needle pierced the lump and then the doll. His heart, severed into two, was methodically embroidered into the doll’s chest. Though the scarlet string strung the two pieces into one, the stitches holding the heart together only highlight how terribly broken it was.

Once Luka’s heart was embedded into the doll, Moonjumper knotted the ends of the thread and buttoned the tunic closed, concealing the heart. Without warning, he tossed the prince doll towards Luka, who fumbled to catch it.

“I thought you wanted to keep it.” Luka wrinkled his nose, holding out the toy like it was some mangled catch a cat brought in.

“I just said you had to live without it,” Moonjumper corrected. “What you do with it is up to you. I thought that would be an easy way to carry it.”

“Why would I carry around a doll?” Luka furrowed his brows.

“It’s your daughter’s favorite toy, yes?” Moonjumper tilted his head, his painted smile unwavering.

“Hattie!” Luka bolted to his feet. He clutched the doll in his hand. A faint pulse against his palm urged him forward.

“And with that, I’ll take my leave. But don’t forget, Luka friend,” Moonjumper chuckled as his form began to waver and fade into moonlight, “I’ll come back in ten years’ time to collect my toy!” His laughter drifted on the shimmer he left behind. Strands of gentle light flittered back to the beam streaming from the window.

Luka scowled at the moonlight. He didn’t understand what Moonjumper meant about collecting his toy ten years later, but he didn’t care.

He had to leave. He had to leave with Hattie and escape.

Luka flew towards the stairs leading out of the cellar, but his gangly legs tripped on the box of toys, and he skidded against the ground. Grunting, his hand clenched around the doll as he scrambled back to his feet.

The manor was silent with Vanessa in bed. He easily crept around the squeaky floorboards and hurried to the nursery.

The flame in his chest flared when he saw the icicles jutting around the door to the nursery, sealing it off while emitting a frosty mist. Blue embers flared from his palms and though they licked the doll and the heart trembled, it did not catch fire.

But the ice did hiss as it melted from Luka’s touch.

Forgetting to be quiet in his ire, Luka shoved open the door with a grunt before seeing that the room was ice free. But his misted breath told him how cold it was.

“Kid!” Luka hurried over to the crib.

Hattie lay inside, shivering under her blanket with flushed, chubby cheeks and eyelids puffy from crying. Her features were scrunched with discomfort in her sleep.

“No, no, no.” Luka reached into the crib.

His embers flickered softly. In her sleep, she leaned towards the source of heat, but when her eyes popped open, she shrunk back in fear. She let out an ear-piercing screech and Luka jolted.

“Hattie, Hattie, it’s me,” Luka whispered, leaning over. His violet-black hair slipped from his shoulder and caught his eye. He ran his tongue across his fangs and remembered how much he had changed. Immediately he held out the prince doll to Hattie and danced it around to distract her from her tears.

“Papa looks different, but it’s still me,” he promised urgently as he listened for any sign of Vanessa.

Hattie continued wailing until a shriek came from his and Vanessa’s bedroom.

“Shut up already!” Vanessa’s muffled voice screamed. Ice jutted from the underneath the door and a brisk puff of air pushed into the room. Luka froze as fear spiked with the doll trembling in his hand.

Hattie whimpered and snatched the prince doll from Luka, startling him out of his petrified state. She hugged the doll and buried her face into the plush, hiccupping as she hushed her crying.

“That’s better!” Vanessa snapped from the other side of the door.

Luka’s flames burned as he sneered at the fresh ice. But all manner of threats and ire he wanted to lob at her perished when he remembered just how powerful she was and how his priority was keeping Hattie safe.

“Hattie,” he whispered in an even quieter voice after a stretch of silence. “Please, kiddo, it’s me.”

He stifled the cerulean flames in his hands, but his palms still radiated heat as he reached for Hattie’s cheek. She peeked at him from behind the prince doll. While she initially recoiled from his clawed hands, he slowly pressed his soft palm to her cheek. She relaxed.

“P-papa?” Her lip trembled.

“That’s right,” Luka managed a smile for her, unintentionally baring his fangs. “Papa’s here.”

She sniffled and he shushed her as softly as he could.

“It’s okay,” he whispered as he scooped her up. “We have to be silent, okay?”

Pressing into his chest, her eyelids grew heavy as his warmth lulled her. She still clutched the prince doll in one tiny fist and her other grabbed onto a strand of his dark violet hair. He winced when she tugged on his scalp.

“There we go, see?” he muttered as he rocked her in his arms. “It’s just me.”

The prince doll pulsed between them, urging him to be warm with more than just the flame in his chest.

With Vanessa back asleep, Luka hurried to pack a bag with supplies and money while Hattie slept in his arms, toasty and safe as she held the prince doll. When everything was packed and Hattie was bundled up in an extra blanket, they fled the manor and Luka never looked back.

But the prince doll, while Hattie slept and Luka ran with his eyes forward, waved goodbye to the manor without the assistance of any apparition. The stitches in its chest tightened.

#a hat in time #ahit prince #ahit snatcher #ahit moonjumper #smieska #my writing #build-a-bear au #and that tag will continue to look not right with this content but don't worry about it #how many times can i write a) the prince escaping Vanessa with Hat Kid and b) this man crying?#the world may never know......#alright now i shall expand on content warnings #okay SO body horror warning is for slightly painful transformation and someone has his heart ripped out of his chest #child neglect/abuse/endangerment is for baby hat being locked in a cold room (getting colder) and getting screamed at for crying #nothing graphic and Luka gets her out of there quickly and while hat remains pretty frightened for the most part she is primarily safe #this is a bleaker start i usually do for them so fair warning #let me know if i need to touch on anything else?#anyway time to stop fussing with details #THANK YOU FOR READING!!!!!#let me know what you think and i hope you're having a good day!!!!

69 notes · View notes