#I want people to look at me and realize that I refuse to be caged

[neverendingford]

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[laenordeservedbetter]

Thieves & Prophecies

Words: 2.6k

Pairing: Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Reader (Daughter of Poseidon)

Synopsis: When your friends accuse Clarisse of stealing the lightning bolt, you make a choice that dooms Olympus.

Warnings: PJO EPISODE VI SPOILERS, r has anger issues, r isn't too fond of the gods, ooc!clarisse, Luke. [Let me know if I missed any.]

A/N: People say you should write to get over writer's block, so here's another Clarisse x reader. The new episode had me stressing out for Clarisse and she wasn't even there. At least we got good Percabeth scenes.

masterlist || previous work

---

You’re leaning against a wooden crate while Grover proceeds to explain why Clarisse is the lightning thief. The pounding of your heart was the only thing you made yourself hear, tuning out of the conversation. You couldn’t believe it. You refuse to believe it. Clarisse wouldn’t do something like that. Something’s wrong. They are wrong.

“Y/n?” Percy stands in front of you, looking apologetic. You meet his gaze, realizing that they must have finished talking. You don’t say anything, figuring that your conflicting emotions are visible to them. “I’m sorry about Clarisse. I know that you think she’s not capable of stealing the lightning bolt, but all signs lead to her.”

The glare that you send Percy makes him flinch. “She didn’t do it.” You claim. Percy opens his mouth to protest, but you weren’t done talking. “I know she didn’t. I’m sure of it.” You say the words with such conviction that Percy can’t help but feel bad for you. You scowl upon seeing his sympathetic look, shaking your head. “Don’t give me that look.”

“Y/n…” Grover interjects, moving to stand beside Percy. “I know that this is hard to hear since Clarisse is your—” Grover cut himself off, “But there’s no other half-blood Ares could possibly want to protect except his favorite daughter.” He says softly, trying to reason with you.

You were far past reason, however. Not when Clarisse is involved. You walk a few steps closer to them, your jaw clenching. They both take a step back, their backs hitting a combination of crates and cages. They weren’t used to seeing you like this. They’ve watched you protect them from monsters, but they haven’t experienced being on the receiving end of your wrath. It was not a good feeling.

“Say one more word about Clarisse being the lightning thief and I will make sure none of us get to the underworld in time for the solstice.”

Grover and Percy merely nodded, too afraid to argue.

You retreated to the corner furthest away from them; feeling more exhausted than you had been since the quest began. A part of you wanted to ensure that Percy completes his quest and that he clears his and your father’s name, another part wants nothing more than to protect Clarisse, but the emotion that overpowers both is your anger.

How could they all just sit there and come to that conclusion without thinking it through? Their accusation didn’t even have that much of a backbone to support it with. You were mad at yourself for not being able to convince them otherwise. You were mad at Ares for taking Grover’s bait and for not ratting out the real thief, which you probably shouldn’t say out loud. Though, at this point, you didn’t care because tomorrow morning, Percy and Annabeth were going to send an Iris Message to camp and there will be nothing you can do to stop Chiron, Mr. D, and the rest of the demigods from going after Clarisse. You needed to act and you needed to act fast.

---

As soon as Percy, Annabeth, and Grover fell asleep, you stood up and silently moved to the truck’s doors. Percy was leaning against one of the cages, his eyes peacefully shut. Sometimes, you forget that he’s still a kid. He should be enjoying his childhood, not going off fighting monsters. But unfortunately, that’s just the way life goes when you’re a half-blood, being in constant danger. Yet another reason to be mad at the gods. You shake your head, trying to ignore the pang of guilt when you think about leaving your brother. If there had been another way, you would have taken it.

You just hope Percy forgives you when all of this is over.

…Or if he survives the solstice.

You stop in your tracks, wondering if what you’re about to do is the right decision to make when Annabeth starts to stir.

It was now or never.

You continue making your way to the door, but something in the corner of your eye stops you.

The bag that Ares gave.

There was something about it that drew you in. You know you shouldn’t, but you grab the bag, opening the top zipper. There was cash, clothes, and golden drachmas, exactly what the god of war said. You had no need for cash or clothes, so you take those out. You scoop a few drachmas and place the rest on the floor, putting the coins inside the bag since it would be handier than putting it in your pockets. You sling the bag over your shoulder and bolt for the doors, the metal making a loud bang the moment you force it open. Before either one of the trio could go after you, you were already a few miles ahead – or behind, depending on which direction you’re looking from – of them.

You don’t stop running until you reach a coast. You wanted to collapse in exhaustion, but you force yourself to keep going until your feet touch the water. Sighing in relief, you close your eyes, allowing the water to give you strength. The wind was chilly tonight, darkness looming above you. The possibility of war was getting closer yet here you were, having just abandoned your brother for Clarisse.

You didn’t know what you were going to do when you reached camp. Would you try convincing Chiron that Clarisse wasn’t the culprit? Would you run away with your girlfriend? Or would you take the blame despite not having the lightning bolt yourself?

You hear a whine before you, prompting you to open your eyes. A creature with the head and front legs of a horse but with the tail of a fish appeared in front of you, tilting its head a little. Your eyebrows scrunched in confusion, “Did my dad send you?” You asked.

Yes, my lady.

Your brows scrunch even more (if that was possible) at the term. Your hand reaches out to pet the hippocampus, the creature leaning into your touch. You were still surprised that your father, Poseidon, decided to help you. He did listen to your prayers most of the time, but you thought that he wasn’t your biggest fan at the moment, seeing how you were about to go to camp and possibly ruin his reputation. You guess you were wrong. A small smile graced its way onto your face as you mumble, “Thank you, father.” You get on the hippocampus, the creature making sure you were properly seated before it started moving.

---

The sun had completely risen by the time you reached camp. Being on a hippocampus was by far the best mode of transportation, in your opinion. You got good sleep this time. You get off of Summer (you learned that that was her name when you were trying to make conversation), your feet landing on the shore.

“Thank you, Summer. I promise I’ll give you a snack when I see you again.” You promise, smiling softly.

Summer made a noise of approval before diving back into the water.

You look towards the woods, feeling like something was about to go wrong. “You can’t back down now.” You mumble to yourself. Clarisse needed your help. This is the reason why you came back to camp. You will your feet to move, one foot in front of the other.

This wasn’t gonna end well.

---

Sneaking into camp was easy. Getting past the campers was the hard part. If they saw you, they would bombard you with questions. You can already sense the kind of questions they’d ask, the things they would say. You grit your teeth in annoyance. Everyone seemed to be doing something. Though, the number of campers in the archery practice range and the dining pavilion were smaller compared to the last time you were here. Odd. You shake your head, trudging forward, trying to look for Clarisse.

“You stupid moron! I told you. I didn’t steal the lightning bolt!”

Ah, there she was.

Your heart flutters upon hearing her voice. There was no mistaking that that was her.

You see Luke get out of the armory. You could make out a figure behind him, a girl tied against one of the tables. Your expression hardens as you stare at the Hermes cabin councilor. Before he could meet your gaze, you hide behind one of the cabins.

Anger coursed through you again. Your fists clenched, leaning your head against the structure of the Zeus cabin. You wait for a minute, then another, then another, before you feel your anger subsiding. You use the back part of the cabins in order to get to the armory, rushing past groups of campers before they could spot you.

The armory was unguarded, which was a bad decision on Luke’s part. Like seriously? The armory is the best choice you can come up with to lock up the alleged thief in? There are dangerous weapons in there. If they had caught the real thief and locked them there, it would have been a bloody day. You scowl at their incompetence, but your expression morphs into one of worry when you open the door and see Clarisse.

She glances towards you, squinting her eyes from the harsh glare of the sun. “Y/n? What are you doing here?”

“I don’t have time to explain.” You march towards her and settle yourself in front of her. Her hands were tied. “Gods, what have they done to you?” You mutter, grabbing a dagger from the table above her and using it to cut the rope.

“They’re accusing me of stealing the lightning bolt, which is stupid because I didn’t do it. This must be Percy’s doing.” Clarisse grumbles, an apologetic look crossing her face after she says the last sentence. “Sorry. I know he’s your brother, but…”

“They’re wrong. I know.” You nod reassuringly. Not a second after you finish cutting the rope, Clarisse surges forward to pull you into an embrace. You laugh in surprise, pulling her closer, “Woah, there. Hi.” You close your eyes, inhaling her familiar scent. It was good to have her near you again. You let out a sigh of relief, placing your hand on her hair. “I missed you.” You say.

“I missed you too.” Clarisse replies before reluctantly pulling away. She places both of her hands on your face, as if memorizing it all over again. Her brows were scrunched as she looks at a scar that wasn’t there before you left and you found yourself wanting to ease her worries.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.”

She scowls. “You got hurt.”

“I’m okay now.” You insist. Before she asks follow-up questions, you try to state why you were here in the first place. “I tried to convince Percy, Grover, and Annabeth that you didn’t steal the lightning bolt, but they wouldn’t listen. So, I jumped out of the truck when they were sleeping. I got a few drachmas in case of emergencies. Then, I went to a beach, where a hippocampus appeared and brought me here. And now I’m realizing I didn’t think too far ahead because I don’t know what to do now. If I can’t convince Mr. D or Chiron that you’re innocent, I… We can run away. Yes, that we can do.”

“You did all of that for me?” Clarisse had an unreadable expression on her face. She looked like she wanted to kiss you, yell at you, and cry all at once.

Your brows furrow. “Of course I would. Why wouldn’t I?”

“You could’ve gotten hurt.”

“But I didn’t.”

“That was really stupid.” She says.

“I know.”

“You jeopardized the quest.”

“I know.”

“You could’ve experienced your father’s wrath.”

“I know.” A small laugh escapes you.

Clarisse shakes her head, “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“Yes, so I’ve been told.” You roll your eyes.

“Gods, I love you.” Clarisse mumbles.

You sport a teasing grin, “Aww, you do?”

“Shut up.” She punches your shoulder playfully.

“Ouch!”

“What are you doing?”

Your playful banter came to an end when you hear Luke enter the front door, two of the kids from the Athena cabin standing behind him. You turn, stepping forward to stand in front of Clarisse. You’ve been in similar positions in the past, except she was the one protecting you. Now, it was time to return the favor.

Both Athena kids step forward on Luke’s signal, dragging both you and Clarisse outside, where there was a cluster of campers watching you.

Great, a show. Just what you needed.

“What were you doing with the lightning thief?” Luke questions.

It took a shake of Clarisse’s head to stop you from attacking him. You settled for “accidentally” stepping on his toes instead. “Clarisse is not the lightning thief.” You state. Around you, there stood at least two dozen campers. You spot Chiron and Mr. D amidst the campers and your eyes light up. “You don’t even have proof that she stole the lightning bolt, so how can you be so sure that it’s her?”

Luke ignores your question entirely. “Just give up, Y/n. Stop protecting her. You know that she stole it. We all do.”

“She didn’t steal it!” You yell, meeting Luke’s eyes. It felt like having a staring contest with a statue.

“Yeah, well, how do you know?!” His voice raises to match yours, his cold gaze almost scaring you. Almost.

You fall silent, not having a proper answer to that. Truth was, you didn’t. You could just feel it. But making choices based on feelings isn’t a good enough reason for anyone in this camp. You turn towards Chiron for help, but he doesn’t say anything. The entirety of the Ares cabin is quiet as well. That’s when it occurs to you that if they don’t speak up, there is a zero percent chance that anyone else will.

Luke appears smug, as if he had proved his point. “Exa—”

“Because I did it.”

You shock even yourself at your words, but you do nothing to take them back. You weren’t able to see any other option left. You were surrounded. If you’d try to escape with Clarisse, you weren’t making it out of camp alive. This was your last resort.

“What?” Clarisse says beside you, her voice barely above a whisper. You force yourself not to look at her. You wouldn’t be able to stand the look of betrayal on her face. You’d rather have her hating you than have her punished for something she didn’t do.

Luke scoffs, “No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did.”

You don’t break eye contact with Luke as you say the words, ignoring Clarisse’s screams of protest.

For once, Luke was taken aback. He keeps shaking his head, “No, you’re lying. Just give up already. You can’t protect her anymore.”

“I stole the lightning bolt.” You say, louder this time around.

“Miss L/n, that is a serious admission.” Chiron says, his tone grave. You could see the apprehension in his eyes. “Are you sure you stole the lightning bolt?”

“She’s bluffing.” Luke announces, but he sounds unsure.

Your bag grows heavier, as if someone placed a boulder inside it while you were talking to Luke. It was too much to carry. Naturally, you removed the bag from your shoulder, setting it down on the grass. You open the backpack’s zipper, your breath hitching when you see the thing that has been weighing it down. You pull it out of the bag, hearing gasps and words of alarm from the campers.

The bolt crackled in your hand, the color mesmerizing you. You tilt your head with a sly grin, your eyes fixed on Luke.

“Do you believe me now?”

[moonlight-joy]

Hunt Me Love Me

MASTERLIST

Fandom: Kraven the hunter

Summary: You’re an undercover journalist investigating Kraven, but he finds out before you can escape. Instead of killing you, Kraven makes you his captive—curious to see how long it will take for you to fall for him. The longer you stay, the more you realize that you’re not just surviving his captivity… you’re starting to fall for him.

Pairing: Reader/Sergei Kravinoff

The dim light filtering through the wooden slats of the cabin did little to illuminate the room, but you didn’t need bright light to feel the weight of Kraven’s presence. He leaned against the far wall, his broad shoulders relaxed but his sharp eyes fixed on you like a predator studying its prey. His silence was unnerving, a stark contrast to the chaos in your own mind.

You had been so careful. Months of preparation, research, and subtle probing, all leading up to this moment. You’d come to investigate the man who had eluded law enforcement and fascinated tabloids for years—a hunter who thrived on danger, someone whispered about in dark corners but never truly understood. Sergei Kravinoff, better known as Kraven. But somehow, he had found you first.

“I must admit,” he drawled, his voice low and smooth, laced with something you couldn’t quite place, “you’re better than most.”

Your hands clenched into fists in your lap, nails digging into your palms. “Better than most what?” you asked, your voice steady despite the tight knot of fear in your chest.

Kraven’s smirk deepened. “Better than most of the fools who think they can outsmart me. They send investigators, bounty hunters, even assassins.” He chuckled, a low and menacing sound. “But you? An undercover journalist. Now that’s clever.”

Your stomach twisted as his words sank in. He knew. He’d known all along.

“If you knew, then why didn’t you stop me sooner?” you demanded, anger flaring up despite your fear.

Kraven pushed off the wall and crossed the room in a few deliberate strides, his towering frame casting a shadow over you. He crouched down so that his face was level with yours, his eyes narrowing as he studied you.

“Because,” he said softly, “I wanted to see how far you’d go. How far you’d push yourself to get close to me. And now…” He reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “Now, you’re mine.”

A shiver ran down your spine at his words, and you leaned back instinctively, trying to put distance between the two of you. But there was no escape. Not here, not now.

“You can’t keep me here,” you said, forcing steel into your voice. “People will come looking for me.”

Kraven’s smirk returned, more dangerous than before. “Let them come. They’ll find nothing. Just like you did.”

He stood and began pacing the room, his movements slow and deliberate, like a tiger circling its cage. “You’re not the first to try to unearth my secrets,” he continued. “But you… you’re different. Persistent. Clever. Beautiful.”

The last word hung in the air, and you swallowed hard, refusing to let his compliment shake you.

“You’re a monster,” you said, your voice trembling but defiant.

Kraven stopped and turned to face you, his eyes gleaming with something dangerous. “Perhaps,” he admitted, “but even monsters have their desires. And you… you’ve awakened something in me. Something I haven’t felt in years.”

The room felt suddenly smaller, his presence suffocating. You wanted to scream, to fight, to run. But there was no way out. Instead, you met his gaze head-on, refusing to let him see the fear you felt.

“What do you want from me?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Kraven’s smile softened, though it didn’t lose its predatory edge. “I want to see how long it takes for you to stop fighting me,” he said simply. “How long it takes for you to realize that you belong here. With me.”

Days turned into weeks, and you found yourself trapped in a strange dance with Kraven. He didn’t harm you, but he didn’t let you go either. Instead, he watched you, studied you, his fascination with you growing by the day. At first, you resisted, refusing to engage with him beyond the bare minimum. But as time passed, something shifted.

He wasn’t what you’d expected. Yes, he was intense, dangerous, and utterly unyielding. But he was also intelligent, thoughtful, and, at times, even kind. He brought you food, ensured you were comfortable, and occasionally shared stories of his past—a past filled with pain and loss, but also with triumphs and victories that few could comprehend.

“Why do you hunt?” you asked him one evening, the question slipping out before you could stop yourself.

Kraven’s gaze flicked to you, his expression thoughtful. “To prove something,” he said finally. “To myself. To the world. To anyone who ever doubted me.”

“And now?” you pressed. “What are you trying to prove now?”

He was silent for a long moment before answering. “That I’m more than what they think I am. And that maybe… there’s more to life than the hunt.”

His words surprised you, and for the first time, you saw a glimmer of vulnerability in him. It was fleeting, but it was enough to make you question everything you’d thought about him.

One night, as you lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling, Kraven’s voice broke the silence.

“Do you hate me?” he asked, his tone uncharacteristically soft.

You hesitated, the question catching you off guard. “I don’t know,” you admitted. “Sometimes I think I should. But other times…” You trailed off, unsure how to finish the thought.

“Other times?” he prompted.

You turned your head to look at him, your chest tightening at the intensity of his gaze. “Other times, I think I understand you more than I want to.”

Kraven’s lips twitched into a small smile. “You’re stronger than you realize,” he said. “That’s why I chose you.”

The words sent a jolt through you, and you sat up, staring at him in shock. “Chose me?” you repeated.

Kraven nodded, his expression unrepentant. “I knew who you were from the moment you started your investigation. I let you get close because I wanted to see if you were worthy.”

“Worthy of what?” you demanded, your voice rising.

“Of standing by my side,” he said simply. “Of being more than prey. Of being… mine.”

The truth of his words hit you like a physical blow. All this time, you’d thought you were the one chasing him, the one uncovering his secrets. But in reality, he’d been hunting you all along.

“You’re insane,” you whispered, your voice shaking.

Kraven stepped closer, his gaze unwavering. “Perhaps. But you’re still here. And that tells me I’m not the only one who feels this.”

You wanted to deny it, to scream that he was wrong. But deep down, a small, treacherous part of you knew he wasn’t. And that terrified you more than anything.

The days that followed were a blur of conflicting emotions. You hated him for what he’d done, for the way he’d manipulated you. But you couldn’t deny the connection that had formed between you, the way his presence stirred something deep within you.

And slowly, against all logic and reason, you began to wonder if staying with him wasn’t a cage… but a choice.

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[deadsetobsessions]

Once more the hallucinations hit, and once more I am here writing it out.

My brain is fucking terrifying and I want out, so bad. This came to me in the form of a nightmare.

Also, please don’t take the timeline into consideration, because I have no idea what’s going on. Again, nightmares and dreams tend to not have the best coherency when it comes to plot and timelines. The reincarnation doesn’t have a name, I was too busy feeling terrified. Shit in parentheses was how I experienced the nightmare. Everything else is just me adding sprinkle sprinkle.

——

Ra’s al Ghul.

Talia al Ghul.

Two names that she had been aware of, in the peripherals of her hyper fixation. Two characters meant to enhance the story of the Dark Knight. Side characters, on a good day. Perhaps, a main antagonist on a better day.

On a bad day?

Main characters. Real, living people. Real, living, breathing assassins.

Unfortunately, they’re her new family. One she remembered coming into, bathed in a pool of blood and screams.

She was not a baby.

She is now, a baby. The first of Talia al Ghul’s children. The eldest, once Damian al Ghul was born.

Swaddled in emerald green and gold silks, she was presented to a man with silver streaked hair and a receding hairline. He too, was robed in green and golds.

“A daughter, Talia?” He rumbled, the smooth Arabic flowing out of his mouth failing to hide the acrid disappointment. The child, past the haze of confusion of suddenly being deported from her own adult body into one of a helpless child, felt a stirring of irritation. It’s good she learned the language, because now she knew exactly how Ra’s felt about her. The child grumbled a displeased sound. Not that she would have ignored the fact that her grandfather was Ra’s al Ghul. (He smelled like moth eaten fabric and blood- but I think that was because my cat accidentally scratched me.)

“My apologies, father.”

“Do not tell the young detective of this. Had it been a son, perhaps things would have been different. No, a daughter would only hinder him.”

Talia bowed, hands tightening on her daughter. “May I raise her, father?”

“A resource is still a resource. Go ahead, Talia.”

“Yes, father.” Talia took the dismissal and bowed before leaving.

On her way back to the room with the reincarnation’s crib, Talia al Ghul stroked her daughter’s head.

“I wish you were born a boy, my daughter. I am sorry my beloved will never know of you.”

The reincarnation looked at her new mother. She’s young, the woman-child realized. A teenager.

“You’ll have to be useful, my daughter. Your grandfather is not so kind as to keep the useless. I… do not wish for your death,” her mother muttered.

Great. She got new life and it’s already in danger.

——

She learned to swing a knife. Swords. She learned and devoured the teachings. She learned to be useful.

But then they asked her to take the life of a man who did her no wrong.

Her baby blues clashed with her grandfather’s Lazarus green.

She was still young. A child.

“No.”

“No?”

“He did no wrong.”

“He failed, granddaughter.” Ra’s smiled down at her, patronizing. Cruel. “Perhaps you possess your father’s heart, and you are foolishly sentimental, as women and children tend to be. But in the end, you are an al Ghul and you will obey. Plunge in your blade and I will reward you.”

The reincarnation looked at the man kneeling in front of her, resignation and a hint of pity in what little she could see of his face.

She’s already died before. What did she have to be afraid of?

“No.”

They tried to beat the weakness out of her. It didn’t work.

——

The reincarnation stared at the mirror, left alone in an opulent cage of gold and emeralds and precious stones that meant little to her now.

Her hands traced her back, small fingers finding purchase in soft skin. Her mouth opened fruitlessly, noise refusing to escape. She still felt the burning magic, the brand her own blood had carved into her skin and soul because she refused to kill. The chains her grandfather had shackled around her with magic and cruel amusement.

She had killed him, in the end. Obey, or be punished. Her body had moved without her permission, the reincarnation a prisoner in a body that refused to do as she commanded. The knife swung, a life taken, her hands dipped in red.

She learned a valuable lesson that day.

There were things worse than death.

“This is an order, granddaughter.”

The Magic had flared a searing heat at her neck, forcing her to kneel on broken legs. Ra’s loomed above, authority in his voice. She was bound to obey, regardless.

“You will never speak another word of affection, you will never speak another word to anyone unless I allow it. Perhaps this will teach you of your folly, and your place in this world.”

The loss of her freedom and the fear that came with it was a bitter and devastating lesson.

——

Ra’s al Ghul was so much worse than what little she knew of him.

She was right to be afraid for herself.

Her mother had worried, when she’d withdrawn and refused to speak to her. Even if she could, the reincarnation would not have wanted to. The reincarnation had felt furious, back then, when she thought of Talia. Her mother who refused to protect her. Her mother, who claimed she loved her but refused to see the chains Ra’s wrapped around her neck. She who plied the reincarnation with a supportive hand but forced her into the fighting pits.

But, as the reincarnation stumbled out on bruised and used legs from Ra’s al Ghul’s meeting chambers where he had allowed his business partners to partake in her, she realized that Ra’s was a monster in a human’s body and her mother was a victim of his making.

The lesson Ra’s taught her that day was that if she was not useful, if she did not kill, he would take what was left of her and make use of her.

Hate flared in her heart, and the beginning of Ra’s downfall began the day he let her go from the chambers alive. Injured, but alive. Injured and violated, but alive and furious.

——

She carved her hate and rage and helplessness and fear in the bodies of the people he bid her to kill. Her silenced screams were expressed in the way she splattered blood, the way she covered herself in it. A killing machine first, a stress reliever second, and a child… wasn’t on the list of things she was allowed to be.

His enemies were felled, one after another. He gave her his approval, something she detested.

But still, she continued, bodies racking upwards, tens turning to hundreds, hundreds edging into thousands.

The red in her ledger became ichor and guilt. Her language became violence and obedience.

“You have become a sharp tool, granddaughter.”

She was a genius, after all. And now, she could not disobey. A blade that Ra’s believed will never point towards him. She kneeled. She obeyed.

“Thank you, grandfather.” Her words were only allowed to come out- without searing, terrible pain- when she was thanking him. She tried not to do it as often as he wanted. He thought he broke her when he read the obedience she carved into her body language.

But she never bowed. Never. Not to him. Never.

——

“My weapon could learn much from your granddaughter,” David Cain sat across from Ra’s, wine in their stupid goblets. How she detested the green and blacks he’s seen fit to dress her with. She’s dressed provocatively, not of her own choice. She doesn’t have much of those- doesn’t have much in ways of choices- these days.

She was twelve, and Ra’s al Ghul deserved to die.

“Her combat is a higher form of what my daughter has achieved. How did you do it?”

When Ra’s began to reply, she slipped away.

She found the girl. She found… the cage- the black box- the child was placed in. The child flinched from her when she opened the metal box, fear only easing as the reincarnation kept her body language neutral and kind. (It was pitch black, and about the size of like, a closet. No light. Only from whatever door the box had.) (Cass’ hands hurt from banging on the walls to be let out)

David Cain’s daughter, her mind whispered, the memories of another life once more making itself known.

“Cassandra.” She whispered, regretting it immediately when pain wracked her body. She fell to her knees as the punishment for disobeying an order slammed into her.

The girl looked at her in concern, but did not move closer. The reincarnation stared at this girl and saw a reflection of herself.

David Cain would be here for a month. She will free Cassandra in those days.

——

The weapon stared at the girl in front of her, kneeling in pain.

She did not understand.

-

The girl came back. Water. Food. Kind.

The weapon felt warm. The girl was quiet. No sounds. Good. The weapon knew the girl understood. The weapon thinks that the girl is a weapon too.

-

The girl comes back, again. This time, she makes a sound. It hurt her, but she did it again. The weapon understands when the girl points at herself and repeats the sound. The sound means the girl. The girl expects something from the weapon.

The weapon makes the sound, flinching to see if the owner will come to punish it. The girl purposefully sits, relaxed but vigilant… and protective. Of the weapon?

The weapon relaxed. It repeated the sound, pointing at the girl.

The girl smiles, in pain. But approval. The weapon feels- the weapon is warm, like under the blanket. Approval.

The girl teaches her to make sounds but the weapon communicates without it. It does not like the sounds, does not need them, but the girl seems to think it’s important.

The weapon likes the girl, so the weapon learns. They still understand through no sounds, through reading each other.

-

The girl comes back, silently. Secretly. The weapon does not notify the owner. The weapon feels- does not want to.

The girl- the girl with the sound- she says a different sound. Her body tells the weapon that it’s important, this sound.

And when the girl points at herself and says her own sound, then points at the weapon and says that new sound again, the weapon begins to understand.

The girl had given the weapon her own sound.

“Cass—n- ra.”

“Cass,” the girl said, and Cassandra understood.

“Cass.” Cassandra pointed to herself.

-

The owner wanted- wanted Cassandra to end a life. Cassandra watched the owner kill and gesture to the dead thing.

Cassandra did not want to.

When Cassandra is placed back into the pitch black box, she waited for the girl.

The girl came.

“Don’t want.” Cassandra clung to her, reading the welcome and the sadness in the girl’s body. Cassandra tucked her face into the girl’s shoulder. She is cold. The girl is warm.

The girl hugged her back. The girl understood. Sadness hardened into lines of determination. Cassandra felt… light. Felt hope.

-

Cassandra slipped away from the place, water in her pack for the dessert and money to run from the country. The girl stayed behind, seeing her off. The girl tells her to never come back.

Cassandra did not want to leave the girl behind, but the girl could not go.

“Be free, Cass.” The girl had whispered through the pain. “For the both of us.”

——

Her grandfather knew. He allowed David Cain to break her, not kill because she was of use to him still, as a lesson. She found that she hated his lessons. But, she hated his attention more.

And still, she could not regret. How could she, when Cass trusted her with what fragile hope she had?

So, she lets him beat her, and provokes him with smirks and fearless eyes because the longer he’s focused on her, the more time Cass has to run.

Then, he gets too angry, and insults Ra’s, whose eyes grew cold. Her grandfather gestured and while she usually hated the command that followed that gesture, she could not feel that hatred now.

She got back up, legs broken and arms twisted once more, and attacked David Cain.

Ra’s would not follow Cass. Not when she was not his business to deal with, and not when David Carin’s fury amused him so.

David Cain would not follow Cass. Not while she still drew breath. The reincarnation stood, and threw herself at one of the best assassins of the century.

She tore his throat out with nothing but her teeth. She felt, for once, not like a monster. Not even when Ra’s nodded in approval and ordered for David Cain’s broken body to be cleaned up.

——

She’s been granted a mission in New Jersey, once her months of discipline- of torture- ended. She does not get ordered to find Cassandra. She’s fourteen now, and as silent as ever. Her mother had adjusted to her silence by then- long ago, actually, taking it as a quirk her daughter had developed. She hadn’t been a terribly vocal child, after all. Talia praised her for being useful even as a woman- the self degradation something the reincarnation had no doubt Ra’s had insidiously trained into Talia- and for being loyal to Ra’s.

Sometimes, she hates Talia for being- for-

Never mind. She couldn’t afford to hate anyone else.

She killed her targets early, determination and wistfulness urging her movements into sharp . Then, she made her way to Gotham and slipped into the city of darkness- where her father was.

She watched as he hid in the shadows almost as easily as she did. She watched as he flew and glided with the younger Robin. (He was younger than her by a year. She checked.) He was free. They were free.

She wished…

As she turned away, she saw a child tumbling from the edge of a roof. It was an instinct she’d thought Ra’s had managed to bury after the months he’d spent making sure she killed only children.

She hated him.

She caught him, swooping in and tucking him against her side as she plucked him from the air and plopped him back onto the crumbling roof of Gotham’s slums.

“Oh, thank you! So much- are you a vigilante?” The boy asked, looking at her masked face. It’s a good thing she wasn’t exactly dressed like a regular League operative.

She shook her head. Her eyes fell onto his camera, faint memories rising once more. She had an inkling-

“I’m- uh- Tim!” The boy introduced himself nervously, edging away from her silence. “Thank you for saving me…?”

She nodded. She pointed to the camera, tilting her head.

“Oh- you… want to see it?” He clutched his camera closer. Oh, he did have some sense of self preservation. She wondered why a seven year old was allowed to roam these streets… but she did worse at seven.

She held her hand up and back up. The boy hesitated, and then showed her the camera. “Uh- I took pictures of Robin and Batman!”

They sat on that roof for hours, and she let Tim Drake tell her stories about her father and his son. Ward. Son.

She could tell that Tim didn’t have anyone to listen to him.

She didn’t have long until she had to go back or risk severe punishment, but… she could make time for Tim, to listen to him.

She wondered if Cass managed to escape completely. She wondered if her sister all but in name and blood learned how to smile.

——

Tim had never had a friend before!

She listened to him! And gave him hugs the one time he was brave enough to ask! And she seemed to like Batman and Robin as much as he did! No one who didn’t like them would listen to his endless rambling otherwise, right? (Tim was super skinny, like ribs poking out skinny. He looked like a sickly Victorian child and he was kind of cold)

“And then, Robin went like this,” he pantomimed the awesome punch Dick Grayson did on a Joker goon. “And the guys got knocked out just like that!”

His new friend nodded, looking interested.

“Sorry, am I talking too much?” Tim asked anxiously. He didn’t want to make his friend hate him!

She shook her head, and gestured for him to continue.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded.

His new friend was so cool! She even taught him how to throw a punch and to fight!

——

When she had to leave, she prepared Tim for it.

“Do you have to go?”

She nodded and placed a hand on his head, ruffling his hair. Her other hand held a duffle bag with an assortment of weapons she carefully kept from him. (One of the blades still had guts on it, which, ew.)

“Try not to fall off anymore roofs, little photographer.” She said, smiling at his shocked look before leaping away.

“Wait, you can talk?!” He shouted at her back. She smiled a little wider.

——

“A son, this time.” Ra’s al Ghul’s voice echoed in his disgustingly flashy throne room. It rings of approval.

The reincarnation stood behind her mother, eyes cast downwards.

“Well done, Talia. I finally have a worthy heir.”

Damian al Ghul cooed.

The reincarnation was scared. But… she could not allow her younger brother to be trapped like she was. She’s fifteen now, a decade of slavery having worn her down and nearly broken her. But with her brother… no, she could not allow it.

She met her mother’s eyes and knew then that they agreed. Protect Damian, at all costs.

She ignored the sting of envy. So what her mother could not find it in herself to protect her daughter? So long as she protected Damian, it didn’t matter.

Maybe she didn’t matter. Maybe she wasn’t worth anything. Maybe- maybe- maybe.

She also ignored the seed of disgust she had for mother’s actions in conceiving Damian. She couldn’t do anything about it. Talia was also a victim.

A louder voice in her asked if she could really excuse that, when Talia had a choice and she chose to hurt and violate Bruce Wayne like that. She wondered if she could truly ever forgive Talia. She wondered if Bruce Wayne got therapy.

——

She stared at the tome in front of her, eyes blank. (Actually, she had no eyes. Like? Empty sockets, but then later she had eyes???)

The brand- the shackles- the chains could only be broken if Ra’s died. She wasn’t opposed to that. But if he died, so did she. She couldn’t even kill herself to get out, because the chains would be there even if she died. If she was revived- a high chance, thanks to the fucking pits- then the chains would still be there.

Perhaps… she could use the pits?

Her mind turned and turned.

——

“This is your ukht.” Her mother pointed at her. Damian stared up at her, and she melted. Her brother was too damn cute.

“Ukhti?”

She nodded as her mother smiled in joy. “Yes, habibi.”

She was better at hiding the pain, now. She was better at enduring it, too, that fucking burning feeling. She spoke more, but only to Damian.

It would not do for her brother to grow up not knowing how to receive verbal expressions of affection. Not like she did, in this life.

Still, it hurt to speak. But then, she had an idea, based on Cassandra.

She could not speak, but speaking wasn’t the only way of communication. She’ll teach Damian sign language- standard, as commanded- but also her own version. Yes, she could do it. It wouldn’t be hard.

She was a genius, after all, and creating languages wasn’t as hard as people seem to think.

——

Damian copied her, small fingers patting his hand four times.

She did it back to him. “I love you.” She tells him, with sounds and with motions.

He does it back, excitedly, because he had a secret with ukhti!

——

Sometimes, she dared not to touch Damian. She wants to ruffle his hair and give him hugs but the ichor on her hands reminds her to not get to greedy. She did not deserve it.

Not when her hands were stained with the lives of so many people.

——

Another mission.

She was twenty now, and not much closer to escaping her bonds. Though, once she hit her majority, Ra’s lost interest in her in that way. A blessing, even if she had to seduce his “business partners” into giving him better deals more often now.

She stops by Bludhaven. The Robin she watched so many years ago- six, by her count- had grown new wings and moved. She wanted to see if he could fly still.

He could. He flew as free- no, freer than his days as Robin.

She dipped away to complete her mission (nuclear weapon trading, really?) and swings back to see a spider trying to break the former Robin’s wings.

“No.” Nightwing whispered, staring upwards at the cloudy sky blankly. “Please, stop.”

She didn’t need to hear any more. She saw red, and dove feet first straight onto the spider’s head, knocking her out.

She picked up a near-catatonic Nightwing, and helped him to his apartment. She left Tarantula in the rain and felt zero guilt about it.

He changed mechanically, some kind of instinct keeping him from removing his domino, but it was a bit pointless considering she escorted him to his personal apartment.

She watched as Nightwing slipped into an exhausted sleep before leaving. She had a spider to squish, and traces to hide.

——

Dick wakes up, drained and exhausted. He… someone saved him.

He sees a scrawled note, handwriting impeccable enough to be a font, written with his pen. He picked it up from his table, and his eyes tiredly read the message.

“Don’t worry about Tarantula. Or your identity.”- A friend.

He remembered- the mask- the mask of the stranger that saved him vividly. He’d remember. And he’d thank them if they ever came back.

——

She was in charge of training assassins, these days. A year and a half later after Bludhaven, she was back in Nanda Parbat, and she’s devoured every magical tome she could get her hands on. They all say the same things.

Her assassins were trained well, and Ra’s praises her with more responsibilities as he followed the pit in his obsessions. Her mother began to splinter the group, not knowing that as Ra’s began his descent into madness, people looked towards her instead of Talia for leadership. They did not know that her unwavering presence by Ra’s side wasn’t voluntary but it is their true that she became his right hand out of pure skill. And flawless obedience, of course.

Then, someone new joins.

Someone with pit rage and empty eyes that goes rigid when she approaches.

Then again, most of the operatives freeze up when she walks towards them.

Her memories roar. A child.

He bowed, and her eyes followed the streak of white hair at the forefront of his skull.

She gestured at him to follow, and ignored the pitiful eyes the rest of the assassins gave to the kid- they act like her training was hard when she went easy on them (it was)- and led the kid towards the training rooms.

She knew who he was, even if her grandfather and mother didn’t think she knew.

Her… Bruce Wayne would probably appreciate his son being returned relatively sane.

But first, she had to beat the Pit out of him. Then, she could assign body guarding duties to him, in an attempt to protect him.

——

“Grandfather, I will take Damian’s punishment.”

“A whipping girl, granddaughter?” But he nodded anyways. He made Damian watch.

She kneeled and allowed the punishment. She couldn’t always protect him from Ra’s, but this she could do anytime. It’s not like she was unfamiliar with the torture. (The whip had barbs. Rusty. And they sprinkled salt.)

——

“I liked poetry….” Jason Todd tells her after a training session. “I think.”

“Sure. I’ll call you Grave, then.” Pain. But she was used to it.

He tilted his head, eyes going blank once more. She sighed. There went his memories again. (His eyes were blank and glazed. Like looking at someone you love and knowing they’re looking through you.)

——

“I would not trust her,” she says to the air, next to a Red Hood emerging from Talia al Ghul’s chambers. She could see it, the beginnings of Gotham’s new crime lord. But still, “Talia al Ghul is known for her lies.”

She pushed away from the wall. It was up to Grave if he listened. It was out of her hands now.

——

She’s twenty-five, and she’s helping Damian pack for his first meeting with Bruce Wayne.

“You must not tell him about me.” Because he’d come rushing here, and she had worked too hard to save Damian for her fool of a father to come and ruin all of that effort.

“I promise.” Her little brother said solemnly. Ukhti said it out loud, which meant it was important and she expected him to keep that promise.

The only other time he’d heard her speak was to tell him she loved him.

The reincarnation smiled and told him through their special sign language, to treat the current Robin with respect and to try his best to get the current Robin to pass down his title.

‘Robin is earned. They have different rules, over there. Try your best to learn those rules.’

Her brother was sheltered. She loved him, but he was spoilt and sheltered. Of course she was worried. Talia barely mothered him.

“I know. You do not have to remind me so often, ukhti.”

She smiled, and patted his head.

“Be safe,” she whispered. “I will miss you.”

Damian darted in for a hug. “Of course. Goodbye, sister. See you soon.”

She hoped not. It was hard enough to convince Ra’s that Damian would learn more under Bruce Wayne.

(She was locked in a small closet- like Cass- for about a week, because she brought up the idea first.)

——

She found it.

The answer to pit rage laid in an old, all but crumbling tome from Atlantis- answers “from a ghost.”

——

Bruce Wayne died. Months after Damian came to live with him. That- irritating- she sighed and worked with her mother to turn Ra’s al Ghul’s attention away from Gotham, lest he called Damian back in Bruce Wayne’s absence.

The little photographer caught grandfather’s attention. She stood vigil as he played chess with Ra’s. His interest in Damian wavered. Anticipation blurred in her veins.

She saved his friends. Her assassins. She let them go, telling them to wait for the little photographer’s plan. (Y’all miss girl had fucking bloody handprints on her pants like someone tried to grab it.)

The first few people who had an inking she might not be loyal to Ra’s… and it was them.

When her other assassins attacked Red Robin, she cut them down before they could touch him, helping him with a furious League of Spiders or whatever operative. She hated spiders.

“What…?”

“You’re a lot of trouble, little photographer.” She sighed. His jaw dropped.

“It’s you!”

“Go,” she cut him off. “Blow this place up. I left a surprise for you outside.”

——

“Owens?! Z?!” Tim trembled, exhaustion and shock and wonder hitting him at once.

“Heya, boss!” Z chirped. Owens helped Tim up while Z helped Tam. Pry walked around them, looking out for further threats. “The nightmare trainer let us go. She knew you, I think.”

Tim smiles, all shark teeth and zero hero. (In the background, the song zero to hero from Hercules 2, played in reverse.) “Tell me more.”

——

Damian grunted, bracing himself for the magical creature’s attack.

“Robin!” His father barked out, panicked. Damian hoped he’d survive-

Shhhlk!

He looked up and there stood his ukht. She bounded forwards, using the odd fauna of the magical plane to bolster her movements as she sliced the creatures apart with her swords, magic humming brightly as she cut through them… and the magicians attacking them.

“What- what are you doing here?” He asked. She greeted him, three fingers curled over her shoulder.

‘My question is,’ she signed. ‘Why were you here without a magical weapon.’

Damian sighed as father stepped in between them.

“Who are you.”

“Batman. Cease your excessive worry. I trust her with my life,” Damian snapped. He stepped around a shocked Batman, looked him in the eyes, and unsheathed his katana. He handed it over to his ukht, who took it with amusement.

‘See?’ His eyes seemed to say. Father tensed when his sister unsheathed her own blade and handed it to him.

‘Are you here for a specific reason?’ His sister signed to him.

“Uh, you gonna introduce us, little man?”

Damian sent the Flash a derisive look and ignored him.

“We’re looking for a magician. He set a squadron of demons loose into D.C. last night. He has a tower.” Damian added.

“Robin,” Father growled. “Who is this.” Damian shot him a look and turned back to his sister.

The reincarnation tilted her head. ‘Tower… it’ll have to be that way.’

“Could you take us there?” Damian asked. Truthfully, he could find the way himself. But he wanted more time around his ukht. She nodded and Damian straightened.

“I feel like we should be concerned that Robin’s friend just murdered a bunch of people.”

His sister glanced back and ignored them.

“Silence, incompetents. Speak another word against her, and Batman’s no killing rule will be applied creatively.” He hissed. (The fucking surroundings hissed with him y’all what the fuck)

He turned when his sister ruffled his hair (Superman muttered a super shocked “what the fuck.”) and Damian allowed it. He had missed his sister.

——

[cielie-voss]

The guinea pig whisperer

Eddie Munson x fem!reader (and her guinea pigs)

Summary: When your family needs your help, you turn to your best friend Eddie Munson to take care of your beloved guinea pigs. Couldn't be that difficult, right?

Warnings: use of y/n, but other than that none I think

Wordcount: 4.4k

Taglist: @violettsoul @evileyeandthecattywhumps

Masterlist

If you want to be tagged in coming fanfics or if you want to request something, feel free to send me a dm or an ask. 🥰 Likes, comments and especially reblogs are always welcome. 🤗

“Okay, guys, we’ve got this,” Eddie said softly as he knelt down, trying to convince himself as much as the little creatures in front of him.

“We totally got this.”

Who was he kidding? He totally didn’t have this. What had possessed him to agree to this quest?

As the little furballs scurried back into their houses, teeth chattering in disapproval of the strange guy invading their space, Eddie leaned back against the rustling beanbag and sighed.

Eddie loved animals—really, he did. Sometimes, he even loved them more than people. But most animals didn’t seem to love him back. He was usually too loud, too hectic, too fidgety, and he ended up scaring them away.

“Come on, I’m not a bad guy,” he tried to convince the crested guinea pig that was cautiously sticking its nose out of the door, sniffling and clearly unimpressed with Eddie's presence.

“Hey, it’s not my fault, okay? You’re the one who needs special care. I’m just doing what I’ve been told,” Eddie said, as if reasoning with the little ball of fur would somehow help. Did the guinea pig even understand him? Probably not—it’s just a guinea pig. Guinea pigs couldn’t understand humans, right?

When you had asked him to take care of your guinea pigs for a few days while you were out of town, he figured it wouldn’t be that hard. Feed them a couple of times a day, refill their water bottle—how complicated could it be?

But, oh boy, was he wrong.

You were the most generous person he’d ever met, always caring for every creature that crossed your path. For as long as he’d known you, you’d always had special needs animals in your care. Abandoned rabbits, blind cats, deaf dogs, birds with deformed wings, abused animals—you always tried to give these innocent souls a place of refuge.

The other day, you got a call from your family, needing your help with your grandma’s funeral. In a panic, you reached out to Eddie, asking if he could take care of your beloved guinea pigs. Knowing Eddie’s kind nature and willingness to help, you entrusted him with the responsibility of looking after Elvis and the other guinea pigs in your absence.

Who could possibly refuse such a request?

Certainly not Eddie.

Before you left, you handed him a list of instructions on how to take care of the guinea pigs, especially Elvis, your oldest guinea pig who needed special attention due to his dental issues.

Veggies cut in thin slices.

He eats pretty slowly, so make sure the others don’t steal his food.

Make sure nothing gets stuck where his teeth are growing back.

Nothing complicated, right? But he hadn’t expected Elvis to be such a diva. When you led him into the living room, where the huge guinea pig cage took up half the space, the other guinea pigs had excitedly approached the glass pane enclosing the cage. But Elvis stayed at the back, laying majestically in his snuggle sack, eyeing Eddie warily, clearly unimpressed by his presence.

As soon as you left and Eddie tried to introduce himself, Elvis sprinted into one of the wooden houses, out of Eddie’s reach. Realizing this task might be more complicated than he’d thought, Eddie sat down and observed the guinea pigs for a while. Maybe they just needed to get used to his presence? Maybe they were just shy and needed to see that he wasn’t a threat?

He glanced at the list you gave him: Treats are in the drawer next to the cage.

Treats sounded like a good idea. He grabbed a handful of pea flakes and tried to lure the guinea pigs out, carefully whispering reassuring words to them as if they could understand him.

Bit by bit, the first noses peeked out of the houses, sniffing the delicious treats in his hand. But it took some more time before the first guinea pig dared to approach Eddie, sneaking up to him cautiously. Excited, Eddie held his breath, freezing like a statue so as not to scare the fragile, timid creature. Just as he was struggling to hold his breath any longer, the guinea pig grabbed one of the flakes and, with its head held high, ran back into one of the houses.

He knew he had to be patient to gain their trust, but no matter what he tried, Elvis wouldn’t come out, making the task nearly impossible.

The rest of the day, Eddie spent in the living room, switching between the couch and the bean bag next to the cage. Whenever he moved around, he made sure to be as quiet as possible. Sitting still was something Eddie wasn’t really good at—he was always fidgeting with anything he could get his hands on.

After a while, he decided to read something to them. Maybe the sound of his voice would help the piggies get used to him? At least it would help him stay still. He figured it didn’t matter what he read aloud, so he inspected the small bookshelf in the corner of the room.

“Romeo and Juliet?” He glanced over his shoulder, searching for approval.

“No, maybe… What about Dracula? No, that’s probably too scary for you guys.” His eyes scanned the other titles. “Red Dragon? No, not appropriate. The Shining? Or maybe Carrie?” He furrowed his brows as he picked up one of the books and turned it around to read the blurb.

“Goddamn, these are some pretty bloody and violent books for such a gentle girl,” he muttered, surprised by your choice in literature. He put Cujo back on the shelf before finding Howl’s Moving Castle.

That might do the trick.

To lure the piggies out of their houses, he placed a bowl of thinly sliced vegetables in the middle of the cage and sat down on the bean bag, reading to them in a soft voice. But still, Elvis remained stubborn, refusing to come out of his house.

“Damn, you really are one headstrong little guy, huh?” Eddie peeked through the entrance of Elvis’s hiding place. “I won’t hurt you. I just wanna make sure you get enough food.”

They locked eyes in a silent standoff—two stubborn souls, neither willing to give in. Eddie cocked his head, looking at Elvis with pleading puppy eyes.

“Come on, dude. Do it for Y/N,” he said, a hint of desperation in his voice, as he held out his hand, offering some pea flakes. But Elvis simply turned his back on Eddie. Groaning, Eddie leaned back into the bean bag. How was he supposed to take care of this little guy?

The next couple of hours were a trial of patience for Eddie. Bit by bit the other guinea pigs started to become comfortable around Eddie - accepting the neatly cut veggie strips he offered them in an attempt to gain their trust. They even let him touch them and ate right out of his hand after some time. But Elvis? Hell no. There was no sign he started to trust Eddie. No matter what Eddie tried - pea flakes, grapes, cucumber or even blueberries - Elvis wouldn’t even look at him.

Slowly Eddie became frustrated, even anxiously because Elvis simply wouldn’t eat anything other than hay. After countless rejections Eddie searched through your kitchen, not actually knowing what he was looking for. He let out a sigh, his fingers running through his hair, about to give up, when finally he found a big bush of parsley taking up the space of the kitchen's windowsill. “Okay, one last try” he declared and gently picked a few twigs.

With the parsley in hand Eddie sat down on the bean bag again. “Hopefully this’ll work” he said before he tried to lure Elvis out of his hiding place. And miraculously it was working. Slowly Elvis’ nose peeked out of the little plushy tunnel he was hiding in. And it didn’t take long before, paw after paw, he followed the smell of the parsley in Eddie's hand.

“So you’re just like everyone else,” Eddie stated, grinning like an idiot, “Everyone is corruptible, even a guinea pig like you.” Relieved Eddie watched the little guy munch on that parsley. The little triumph filled Eddie with so much pride, he was convinced that there was nothing stopping him from successfully completing this quest. Even though Elvis was still on high alert, inspecting Eddie attentively and freezing every now and then when Eddie dared to move ever so slightly, it was another small step in the right direction, another piece of the puzzle that was earning the trust of these tiny creatures—Elvis, most of all.

Every morning, he would sit by the cage, reading softly from Howl’s Moving Castle, carefully offering treats, and speaking in his gentlest tone. The other guinea pigs had started to warm up to him, now eagerly gathering around whenever they saw or heard him coming. But Elvis remained stubborn, only occasionally poking his nose out to observe the others before retreating back into his hideaway.

Eddie found himself growing more and more determined. There was something about the challenge that made him even more committed to winning Elvis’s trust. Maybe it was because you had entrusted him with such an important task, or maybe it was because he recognized a kindred spirit in the little guy—a fellow outcast, wary of letting others in.

On the third day, a breakthrough happened. Eddie was lying on the floor next to the cage, chin resting on his hands, his voice low and soothing as he read another chapter. He hadn’t noticed at first, but slowly, ever so slowly, Elvis began to inch closer to the entrance of his wooden house. Eddie kept reading, trying not to make any sudden movements. After what felt like an eternity, Elvis crept out just enough to sniff the air, his tiny whiskers twitching.

Eddie’s heart raced. He didn’t move, barely even breathed, as Elvis cautiously approached the bowl of veggies. The little guy sniffed around, eyes constantly flicking up to keep Eddie in sight. But eventually, he started to nibble on a piece of lettuce, his guard seemingly lowered. Eddie smiled to himself, feeling a surge of triumph. Maybe, just maybe, they were slowly starting to understand each other.

But getting Elvis to eat in his presence was one thing; getting him to trust Eddie enough to be touched was another. Every time Eddie tried to reach out, Elvis would dart back into his house, and they would be back to square one. Frustration gnawed at Eddie, but he refused to give up. He tried everything he could think of—different treats, talking to Elvis in even softer tones, staying as still as a statue whenever the guinea pig ventured out. But nothing seemed to work.

One afternoon, after another failed attempt to coax Elvis out, Eddie slumped onto the couch, feeling defeated. He had a sprig of parsley in his hand, the latest in his arsenal of treats, but Elvis wasn’t biting—literally or figuratively. Eddie absentmindedly twirled the parsley between his fingers, thinking about what he might be doing wrong. Then, a thought struck him. He remembered how you had once mentioned that animals, especially small ones like guinea pigs, relied heavily on scent. Maybe Elvis was so attached to you because he associated your scent with safety.

Eddie searched through your apartment until he found a little cupboard in the bathroom, filled with makeup, different sorts of hairspray and a few little flacons of perfume. He stared at it for a moment, the idea forming in his mind. It was ridiculous, wasn’t it? But then again, everything else had failed. What did he have to lose?

With a determined sigh, Eddie grabbed the bottle and spritzed a small amount on his hoodie. The familiar scent filled the air, a mix of something floral and earthy, like freshly cut grass. He couldn’t help but smile a little—this was so absurd it just might work.

Feeling a bit silly, but hopeful, Eddie returned to the cage. He gently placed the parsley in front of Elvis’s hideaway and then sat back, waiting. Eventually, Elvis emerged, sniffing the air as usual. But this time, something was different. His tiny nose twitched more rapidly, almost excited, and he stepped out a little farther than usual, his gaze fixed on Eddie. The guinea pig’s hesitation seemed to lessen, and to Eddie’s astonishment, Elvis slowly made his way over to him, stopping just short of where Eddie’s hand rested on the floor.

Eddie’s heart pounded as Elvis sniffed at his hand, clearly intrigued by the scent. He stayed perfectly still, allowing the little creature to take his time. Finally, with what seemed like a deep breath of resolve, Elvis nudged the parsley with his nose and then—almost miraculously—climbed into Eddie’s lap. Eddie was so shocked he barely dared to move. But Elvis, after a moment of careful observation, seemed to decide that this strange new version of Eddie was okay, settling down on his lap.

Eddie let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Gently, he raised a hand and started to stroke Elvis’s soft fur. This time, the guinea pig didn’t flinch or run. Instead, he let out a tiny, contented squeak, closing his eyes and stretching out his legs as Eddie continued to pet him. Eddie grinned like a fool, feeling like he’d just won the lottery.

Eddie had settled into a routine with the guinea pigs over the next couple of days. He'd spend his mornings preparing their veggies, carefully slicing them just the way you had shown him, then patiently coaxing Elvis out of his hideaway with a mix of treats, soft words and the scent of your perfume. Though Elvis had finally started to warm up to him, Eddie still found himself with plenty of downtime as the guinea pigs quietly went about their business.

That afternoon, as the guinea pigs dozed off after their midday snack, Eddie found himself drawn to his guitar, which he had brought along just in case he needed something to pass the time. He hadn’t played much since he’d been focused on the guinea pigs, but the itch to strum a few chords was starting to get to him. So, he grabbed his guitar and lay down on the floor, fingers absentmindedly picking at the strings.

He started with something soft, just a few random chords, not really thinking about what he was playing. The sound of the guitar strings filled the room, blending with the soft rustle of hay from the guinea pig cage. Eddie smiled to himself, feeling the familiar comfort of the guitar beneath his fingers.

But as he relaxed into the music, his fingers instinctively drifted into a familiar riff—Metallica's "For Whom the Bell Tolls." The heavy, thrumming notes reverberated through the room, and Eddie couldn’t help but get into it, his fingers moving more confidently across the strings as he lost himself in the music.

He was just starting to really enjoy himself when he noticed something strange. The peaceful quiet of the room had been interrupted by a series of sharp, disapproving clicks. Eddie paused mid-riff and looked over at the cage, where all five guinea pigs were wide awake, teeth chattering in what could only be described as intense disapproval.

Eddie raised an eyebrow, his fingers hovering above the strings. "Seriously, guys?" he muttered, half-amused, half-offended. He plucked another string experimentally, and the chattering grew louder, the guinea pigs shifting restlessly in their cage.

He chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "What, you don’t like Metallica? I thought you guys had better taste than that." But the guinea pigs weren’t having it—every time he strummed a chord, their chatter became more insistent, as if they were staging a tiny, furry protest.

Eddie couldn’t help but laugh. “Alright, alright, I get it. No Metallica,” he conceded, setting his guitar aside with a grin. “Guess you’re more into the easy-listening stuff, huh?” He rolled onto his back, looking up at the ceiling with a sigh. “Can’t believe I’m getting critiqued by a bunch of guinea pigs,” he muttered to himself, a smile still tugging at his lips.

The room fell back into a peaceful silence, the guinea pigs settling down once more as Eddie let the moment wash over him. He was still smiling, even as he turned his thoughts back to the challenge of getting Elvis to trust him completely.

A few minutes later, he picked up his guitar again, but this time, instead of metal, he gently strummed a softer melody—something calm and soothing, more to the guinea pigs' taste. The chatter subsided, and Eddie felt a small sense of victory as he noticed them relaxing again.

As the days passed, Elvis began to venture closer and closer to Eddie. The once hesitant little guinea pig now seemed less afraid of the strange man who had taken over his home. Eddie noticed the subtle changes—how Elvis would come out of his hiding spot more often, how he’d eat his veggies with less hesitation, and how he’d sometimes watch Eddie with what looked like growing curiosity.

One afternoon, after hours of reading aloud and playing soft melodies on his guitar, Eddie felt the weight of the day catching up to him. The warm afternoon sun filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. The rhythmic sounds of the guinea pigs munching on their food, coupled with the cozy warmth of the bean bag, lulled Eddie into a sleepy daze.

Before he knew it, he had dozed off, his head resting against the back of the bean bag, his breathing slow and steady.

Unbeknownst to Eddie, Elvis had also grown sleepy. The little guinea pig had gradually moved closer to the side of the cage nearest Eddie, his tiny body finally relaxing as he curled up in a pile of hay. For the first time since you had left, Elvis drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep, feeling safe with Eddie nearby.

About an hour later, Eddie stirred awake. His neck ached slightly from the angle he’d been sleeping in, but as he stretched and rubbed his eyes. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but the nap had been surprisingly refreshing. He turned to check on the guinea pigs, expecting to see them scurrying around or nibbling on some hay.

But then he noticed Elvis, who was still lying in the same spot, completely still. Eddie’s smile faded as a pang of worry shot through him. He leaned closer to the cage, his heart starting to race. Elvis wasn’t moving at all.

“Elvis?” Eddie called softly, tapping the side of the cage. “Hey, buddy, you okay?”

There was no response. No twitch of the nose, no flutter of the ears—nothing. Eddie’s mind immediately jumped to the worst-case scenario. Was Elvis…? No, he couldn’t be. But the stillness, the lack of movement, made Eddie’s stomach twist in fear.

Panic set in as Eddie quickly reached out to gently pet Elvis’ white crest, his hands trembling. “Elvis, come on, don’t do this to me,” he murmured, trying to nudge the guinea pig gently. But Elvis remained motionless, his tiny body limp and unresponsive.

“Oh god,” Eddie breathed, his voice tinged with desperation. “Y/N’s gonna kill me. I’m so sorry, Elvis, I didn’t—”

He froze mid-sentence, his brain scrambling for a solution. Maybe Elvis was just in a deep sleep, right? Maybe he just needed a little incentive to wake up. Eddie’s eyes darted around the room, searching for something—anything—that might help.

Then he remembered the parsley. Seemingly Elvis’ favorite thing to snack.

Practically diving for the drawer, Eddie grabbed a sprig of parsley, his hands shaking as he brought it up to Elvis’s nose. “Come on, little guy,” Eddie begged, holding his breath and praying to whatever god might hear him right now. “I know you love this stuff. Just wake up, please.”

For a moment, nothing happened. Eddie’s heart pounded in his chest, and he was on the verge of full-blown panic. But then, just as he was about to lose hope, Elvis’s nose twitched. It was barely noticeable at first, but Eddie’s sharp eyes caught it. Then, slowly, Elvis’s whiskers twitched, and he took a long, deep sniff of the parsley.

Eddie nearly sagged with relief. “Oh, thank God,” he muttered, watching as Elvis’s eyes fluttered open, the guinea pig groggily lifting his head to nibble on the parsley. The sight of Elvis happily munching away, casually as if nothing happened, made Eddie laugh out loud, though his laughter was shaky with the remnants of his panic.

"You scared the hell out of me, you little rascal,” Eddie said, his voice filled with both amusement and lingering relief. He gently stroked Elvis’s fur as the guinea pig chewed contentedly, seemingly unaware of the scare he’d just given Eddie.

Eddie sat back on the bean bag, his heart rate gradually returning to normal as he watched Elvis eat. The little guy had just been in a deep sleep, completely comfortable in Eddie’s presence. Eddie couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride—Elvis finally trusted him enough to sleep so soundly, something that seemed impossible just days ago.

Eddie chuckled to himself, shaking his head. “You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?” he teased, though his tone was affectionate. “But hey, at least I know how to wake you up now.”

For the rest of the day, Elvis stayed close to Eddie, either nestled in his hoodie or perched on his chest as Eddie lay on the couch. They watched TV together, with Eddie flipping through channels until he found an old movie that wouldn’t be too loud or scary.

When you returned that evening, the first thing you noticed was the unusual stillness in your living room. Expecting the usual rustling of hay and the soft chattering of your guinea pigs, you tiptoed in, not wanting to disturb whatever was happening. As you rounded the corner, the sight before you made you stop in your tracks, your heart melting instantly.

Eddie Munson, the chaotic, metal-as-fuck guy you knew, was stretched out on your couch, his wild curls splayed out on the cushion, with Elvis nestled snugly inside his hoodie, just below his chin. The two of them were watching some cheesy sitcom, but it was clear they were both on the verge of dozing off. Elvis looked completely at ease, his tiny nose twitching as he snuggled deeper into Eddie’s hoodie.

You had to stifle a giggle, half from the absurdity of the scene and half from the warmth it brought to your chest. You almost didn’t want to disturb them, but curiosity got the better of you. “How the hell did you do that?” you whispered, eyes wide with amazement. Elvis had always been so fixated on you, never letting anyone else get near him, let alone cuddle up like that. Not even your closest friends or family had managed to gain his trust like this.

Eddie stirred at the sound of your voice, blinking groggily as he turned his head to look at you. A slow, sleepy grin spread across his face when he saw the look of disbelief on yours. He glanced down at Elvis, who remained contentedly curled up, his little body rising and falling with Eddie’s steady breaths. “Oh, this?” Eddie said with a playful smirk, his voice still heavy with sleep. “I found out he’s a sucker for parsley. And, well… your perfume.”

Your eyes widened as you stepped closer, leaning in to catch the familiar scent lingering on Eddie’s hoodie. Sure enough, there it was - your perfume, the one you always wore. The realization hit you like a warm wave, making your heart flutter. “You’re wearing my perfume?” you asked, half amused, half touched by the gesture.

Eddie chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “What can I say? Figured if I couldn’t be you, I could at least smell like you. Gotta say, I think it’s working. Might have to start wearing this stuff all the time, I think it suits me, don’t you?” He winked, clearly enjoying your reaction.

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Ridiculously charming,” he teased, raising an eyebrow as if daring you to disagree. “I mean, it worked, didn’t it? This little guy’s all about the Munson charm now.” He gently stroked Elvis’s fur with the back of his finger, the guinea pig letting out a contented little purr in response.

“Looks like he’s not the only one,” you muttered under your breath, though a smile tugged at your lips as you said it.

Eddie’s grin widened as he caught your words, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “Is that so?” he drawled, his tone light but his gaze warm.

You rolled your eyes, but there was no denying the flutter in your stomach. “Maybe,” you replied, your voice just above a whisper.

For a moment, the room was quiet, filled only with the soft sounds of the sitcom. You gently draped a blanket over Eddie and Elvis, who both looked completely content in their shared little cocoon. The sight of Eddie, usually so loud and full of energy, lying there with your favorite guinea pig snuggled up against him, melted away any lingering doubts you had about him.

“Thanks for taking care of them,” you said softly, your hand lingering on the blanket for just a moment longer than necessary.

“Anytime,” Eddie replied. “I kinda get it now. Why you’re so into these little guys. Elvis is pretty cool once you get past the whole ‘tiny ball of anxiety’ thing.” His voice was sincere, though the playful glint in his eye remained. “But just so you know, I’m expecting a bonus for going above and beyond the call of duty here.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And what kind of bonus are we talking about?”

He grinned, tilting his head slightly as he looked up at you. “How about dinner? You know, as a thank you. And maybe you could tell me more about this perfume - I’m thinking of making it my signature scent.”

You laughed, the sound light and genuine. “Dinner, huh? I suppose I owe you that much.”

Eddie’s smile softened, his teasing fading into something more genuine. “You don’t owe me anything,” he said quietly, “but I wouldn’t mind spending more time with you. And Elvis, of course. We make a pretty good team.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and as you looked down at the two of them, the warmth in your chest spread until it felt like you might burst. Maybe there was something special here - something you hadn’t expected to find.

“Well,” you said, your voice soft, “I guess dinner it is.”

xxx

I wrote this just for myself because I miss my little diva so so much. But I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless. The picture above is one of my favorites, Elvis in his favorite blanket, sleeping on my hand.

[chasing-dreamers]

Just For You, Princess

(jjk) MDNI🔞

After finding out that you were feeling insecure, Sukuna makes sure to remind you that there’s no need for that.

-

Pairing: fem!reader x husband!Sukuna

Genre: Married human Sukuna AU, 18+, smut, comfort, established relationship

Warnings: MDNI, fingering(f receiving), unprotected sex(don’t do it!), soft!Sukuna, porn with some plot, very slight angst, aftercare, he says princess a lot

Word count: 2.4k

A/N: Hey! So, this is my first time posting any written work since 2019 and the first smut I’ve ever written, so please go easy on me! I have several fics I’ve either started and scrapped or just haven’t finished but somehow wrote this in a whole day! I’m very excited about this and I hope everyone enjoys!❤️

Disclaimer: I don’t own any rights to Sukuna or the JJK franchise, this is solely from my intellect and it in no means tied to anything other than my imagination.

“Princess, can you please tell me what’s wrong?” The man standing in front of you in your kitchen asked for the thousandth time since the two of you got home. He currently had you caged against the counter because he knew the moment he moved, you’d avoid him and go to sleep without talking to him about it. He refused to let another second go by without knowing what was wrong. Once you could tell him, he’d fix everything he could in an instant. Seeing you this upset was absolutely destroying him. “I don’t know what happened or what to say unless you tell me and you know that.”

You hesitated. It was stupid but it still bothered you more than it should have. Having to listen to a group of girls at Yuji’s party talk about this man and what they would do to him, knowing he had a wife (not knowing it was you). Then hearing that they couldn’t care less who she was because they had seen her and there was no way she’d be able to keep him loyal for that long… it ruined the whole rest of your night, shattering every thought and expectation you had for your relationship. Sukuna was your world, but were you enough? Would he really get bored of you? What was it about you that made them think he wouldn’t stay with you?

“Do you think about sleeping with other girls, Kuna?” You finally said just above a whisper. You kept your head down, looking towards his stomach, afraid to see the look on his face.

“Wha-“ Sukuna’s grip on the counter tightened for a split second as he tried to grasp what you were asking. Was his wife, of all people, really standing here questioning if he thought that or not?  “Why would I…You…Ring…What? Why would you ask me something like that, love?”

You looked up and saw the utter confusion in his eyes and slowly started to realize how stupid that question was. He searched your face trying to find any reason you could have. You took in a deep breath and held back tears as you answered. “Because there was an entire group of girls at Yuji’s party that were graphically detailing what they wanted from you. One of them even said that it would be easy to do because they had seen your wife and that she wasn’t worth staying loyal to and I was literally sitting right ther- “

Sukuna’s arms wrapped around you tightly and pulled you into his chest. You curled into him as you felt him bring his head down to nuzzle into your neck. “My sweet princess, there is no one else ever on my mind.” He pulled back slightly and grabbed your left hand and held it up in between the two of you. “Do you understand what this means?”

“Of course, it means I married you and…” You trailed off as you looked up and saw his knowing look.

“And that I married you, Princess.” He said sweetly. “It means that I have made a promise to devote myself to you and love you and not a single soul else.”

You nodded and gasped as he brought his mouth down to your ear, purring gently. “It also means that you are the only one I want to fuck as well. The only person I want to watch fall apart on my dick every night and make love to any chance that I can get.”

“K-Kuna.” You cried as he pushed you back up against the counter and hungrily latched his mouth to your neck. His hands ran down the sides of your body and then raked back up your thighs. He covered your body with his as he ran his tongue down your shoulder and back up. Your arms wrapped around his waist and your fingertips digging into the hard flesh on his back.

“It means that you are the one I’ve chosen to devour and consume for the rest of my life. The one I’ve chosen to relentlessly fuck in our bed every night. The one that I have to give these reminders to every time she thinks I would choose anyone else.” He grabbed the back of your thighs and picked you up as his mouth continued its attack on your soul. He carried you through your house and towards your bedroom. You clung to his desperately as he pressed you up against the wall in the hallway. You could feel his dick hardening against you as he ground his hips into yours.

“I have never wanted a single soul other than you since the day I met you, princess. If I need to keep reminding you like this, then I will happily do so.” He growled before smashing his lips into yours. Your mouths worked together, trying to express the emotions and promises swirling through the air around you. Sukuna’s tongue slipped into your mouth and you groaned at the feeling.

He hummed happily and pushed further into your mouth. You kissed his back with just as much force, wanting to show him how much you wanted, no, how much you needed this. Then he pulled you from the wall and turned into your room. He continued towards the bed, not skipping a beat in trying to devour you, nipping at your bottom lip and sucking it into his mouth. You huffed as he separated long enough to toss you onto the bed and strip your clothes off. He ripped your shirt over your head, then removed your bra, then quickly removed both your jeans and panties as well. You shivered as the feeling of cool air washed over your body, but Sukuna was quick to cover your body with his own again. He kissed you again as he ran his hands over your body. He brought them up to massage your breasts and you could feel him grin against you as you moaned into his mouth. One of his hands moved to hold your waist as the other continued down to settle in between your legs. “Gotta make sure my princess is prepped for me.”

He pushed one of his fingers past your folds and slowly began to push it into you. He watched in awe as your pussy swallowed his finger. You gasped as he began thrusting it in and out of you. He head shot back up and he grinned at your as he began thrusting it faster. Soon, he added a second finger and your moans got louder. “K-Kuna. Kuna. Kuna. Kuna.” You chanted hid name as a third finger went in and he curled them up just right. He hit that spot repeatedly and just stared at his hand disappearing into your cunt over and over again.

Then your orgasm hit your like a truck and you screamed his name. He smirked at you, licking his lips as he continued to coax the rest of it out of you. The squelching noises coming from your pussy made him even harder and he had to be inside of you right now before he lost his mind. Seeing your eyes blown out and your body trembling made his own body feel hot.

He pulled his hand out and made sure you were watching as he sucked your juices from his fingers. His eyes were also already blown out as you watched him crawl back off of the bed. He grabbed the bottom hem of his short and pulled it over his head. You ogled at his body as he began discarding his pants, your eyes raking over his tattooed chest before finally resting on his cock as it sprung out of his boxers. You tried to press your thighs together but Sukuna was too fast and was in between them in an instant. His cock rubbed against you, causing you to mewl and grab for him wherever your hands could reach. “Fuck, princess, you are so fucking wet for me.”

“J-just for you S-sukuna.” You stuttered as he began rutting against your clit. The stimulation was just enough to make the heat start spreading through your body but that alone wasn’t what you wanted. “P-please..”

“Yeah? You feel that, princess. That’s just for you.” Sukuna purred into your ear as he continued grinding down onto you.

“Then give it to me, Sukuna.” I used whatever sense in your mind you had left to spit your demand out. You needed him, all of him, so desperately and couldn’t wait any longer.

“As you wish, my princess.” He growled as he pushed his dick all the way in until you could feel his balls pressing against your ass cheeks. You shrieked at the stretch and the immaculate pleasure that came with it. He held himself up on his hands and watched at your face contorted with ecstasy. Your pussy welcomed him quickly and squeezed around him as began to slowly thrust in and out of you. The moans the two of you were swallowed as he leaned back down you pull you into a passionate kiss. He moved his lips against yours sensually as he used his hands to cup your face.

He began thrusting slowly, more caught up in how it felt to kiss you in this moment, trying to pour all of his emotions into it to show you how he truly felt. The love and longing and needing and knowing you were everything he could ever want and more. The bliss in being your husband, relishing every second of it. You hummed and moaned against his lips as his hips found a sweet spot in his pace to keep your toes curled without pushing you over the edge. Just enough to keep you right at the top without spilling over just yet.

Sukuna pulled away and pressed his forehead to yours, sighing deeply. “My sweet, sweet girl. Fuck, you feel so good every time.”

You moaned in response and he grinned down at you. Your hands ran up and down his back, following the contours of his muscles, locking them into your memory. “You feel so good, Kuna. I feel so full.” You panted as you began to feel the heat in your stomach intensify and your moans began to turn into whines and whimpers. “Faster…please.”

Sukuna moaned at the sound of your begging and he braced himself with his hands back on the mattress. His thrusts pick up into a very fast pace that had you mewling and begging with in coherent words. He marveled at how you looked underneath him falling apart. The best sight he could ever imagine.

Sweat begins to pour down his face as he continues a brutal pace. You feel so fucking good around him and he doesn’t want to stop. Your pussy sucks Jimin and the way he feels your walls drag along his dick as he pulls out with every thrust. It’s intoxicating and he can’t get enough. “Just. For. You.” He chants with every thrust. His jaw clenches and he can feel the release coming quickly as you rake your hands down his chest. You begin to get tighter around him with every thrust and he almost loses his breath.

He pushes through the fight of coming already to keep the sight of your shaking with pleasure underneath him. He licks his lips and growls more as he watches your boobs bounce up and down with every moment. There’s sweat all over his body now and he sees your skin begin to shine with a thin layer of your own on your body.

He dips his head down to swipe his tongue up in between your breasts. You push your body up into him and squeeze his shoulders as he trails his mouth up to your neck once more, nipping and sucking and whispering praises into your ear.

One of his hands runs over your breasts, twisting your nipple just to feel your whole body arch into him again, then down your stomach until you feel his thumb rubbing circles into your clit. You instantly feel yourself unravel around him.

“Gonna…gonna…gonna cu-“ Your whole body tenses and Sukuna grunts and goes faster as he feels your pussy clamp down onto his dick. He moved his hand back and continues picking up the pace until the whole bed is shaking and you’re screaming his name. He moans out your name as he pushes his dick as far into your pussy as he can and comes hard. His whole body twitches as you both come down from your highs.

He slowly pulls out of you and kisses you gently as you whine at the overstimulation. He pats your hair and copes to you as you come down from the last bit of your orgasm.

“Shhh princess, I’ll be right back.” You nod in response and listen as he runs into the bathroom, turns the shower on, and comes back into the room with a wet cloth. “Let’s clean you up and then go take a shower, princess.”

“Mmk, Kuna.” You hum, still feeling euphoric. He cleans you, then scoops you up and walks you to the shower. You sigh constantly as you feel the warm water cascading over your body. Sukuna places you down where you can stand, then grabs subs up a loofa to clean both of your bodies.

“Such a sweet princess, aren’t you?” He asks sweetly as you finally peel your eyes open to look up at him. He grins down at you and kisses you softly. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Sukuna.” You reply, wrapping your arms around him. “My Kuna.”

“Yes, princess,” he chuckles. “All yours.”

He finishes cleaning your bodies and then you take turns washing each other’s hair. He giggles when he has to lean down so you can reach his and kisses your pout away.

Once your shower is over, you both dry off, slip into cozy pajamas, change the bedding, and slip into bed together to go to sleep. Sukuna hums the tunes of the song you danced to at your wedding and cards his fingers through your hair as you quickly fall asleep. Then he wraps his arms around and drifts peacefully off with you.

This was so nerve wrecking to post, but I hope you all enjoyed it! Thank you so much for reading!

All right reserved © 2024 chasing-dreamers. Do not translate, copy, modify, or repost any of my works on any platform.

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Negotiations (Joe Goldberg x gn reader)

Summary: Joe puts you in the glass cage and makes you negotiate for your freedom

Warnings: typical creepy Joe behavior (implied stalking, obsessive behavior, kidnapping, etc.), the reader either doesn't understand the full gravity of their situation or just doesn't care

A/N: I realized I never officially wrote something for it so here y'all go (this was written super quickly so idk if it's any good or not)

"So I had to do it, you see. I had to get rid of them. I had to save you," Joe insisted frantically, sounding like he was trying to convince himself as much as he was you.

You'd woken up in the infamous glass cage underneath the bookstore he worked at, curiously looking around. The only thing you'd said so far was to ask where to you, to which he replied "somewhere safe". Talk about ominous.

"What if I need to go to the bathroom?" You spoke up suddenly, as you soon realized upon inspecting the inside of your new home that there wasn't a toilet. There was, however, a bucket.

"Well..." He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck as he avoided the question. It didn't take much for you to put two and two together.

You gave him a look that was a cross between disgust and disbelief. "I can't pee in a bucket, Joe."

"I'm sorry, but I can't just let you out." He felt bad, sure, but he had to do this. He had to make sure that you were safe, even if it meant making you a little mad at him.

Crossing your arms, you turned in the opposite direction, refusing to look at him. Clearly you weren't too fond of your new living arrangements and were choosing to pout.

"Oh, come on, it isn't that bad," he lied upfront as he watched you. It was that bad, actually. Using a bucket to go to the bathroom was pretty gross.

And now he was starting to feel bad for putting you in this kind of situation. Anger was one thing, that he could handle. He could brace himself against that, or he rationalize away your worries or fears, but you seemed less genuinely upset and more annoyed than anything else.

He let out a heavy sigh as he contemplated his options. You were ignoring him, and he just couldn't have that. "If I let you out, you have to promise not to run away from me or anything like that. Understood?"

As if on cue, you turned back to face him again, a look of hope in your eyes. "Really?"

Joe tried not to let out a laugh when he saw you get close to the glass and press your face against it. "Yeah, really. Just- you have to move in with me. I don't want you living alone anymore. And I have to know where you are at all times."

Sure, he knew he could just follow you like usual, but he wanted you to be able to trust him. "And there's certain people that I don't want you hanging around anymore. Deal?"

Oh, god, what was he saying? This was going to be too much to put on you all at once. He should've just started with one small thing and gone from there, he shouldn't have given you an entire list-

"Deal."

Your voice instantly cut through his thoughts. Part of him wanted to believe you, even if he was a little suspicious that you'd agreed so quickly. Then again, you seemed so sincere, trusting even, observing him the same way anyone who truly loved their partner would: like he was the only thing that mattered.

"Could you let me out now? I really need to go pee."

Rolling his eyes, he made his way over to the door of the cage and unlocked it, letting you out. "Remember what I told you, alright? I don't want to have to put you back in there," he tried to make himself sound stern, to show you that he wasn't playing around when he said that.

To his surprise, you responded by giving him a hug. "You're such a sweetheart, caring about me so much," you muttered affectionately.

He couldn't stop himself from melting into your touch. If this was an act, it was certainly working.

"I'll never, ever leave you."

God, you were going to be the death of him. "And I'll never let you go," he promised in turn.

He really meant it when he said that. He was never going to let you go. Not that you seemed to mind.

End notes: I don't know if this is any good or not honestly. I really wanted to write something for Joe but I was kind of at a loss for what exactly to write about so 🤷 send me some ideas though if y'all want

Likes < reblogs | comments are greatly appreciated | requests are currently open

Main masterlist | You masterlist | wanna be added to my taglist?

🏷 taglist: @caplanreblogsfics

[partycatty]

johnny cage > whiskey

johnny can't keep his hands to himself when he meets you at the bar.

warnings: smutty, marley has only ever been drunk like twice so they're trying their best to write drunk sex

notes: requested by the dearest @milllkaa <3

[ masterlist ]

• it had all started from a single glance, a shared moment between you and a man you swore was familiar from somewhere you couldn't pinpoint. his gaze lingered for a moment too long every chance he got, biting his lower lip or tapping his fingers on his whiskey glass.

• you were feeling it, not entirely used to the attention but the haziness of your cocktails was starting to take a toll on your shyness. a sway in your hips or a wink his direction kept him strung up in your web, his eyes growing bigger and wetter the longer you kept him on a leash.

• your friends were muttering praises for potentially pulling such a good looking man, some of them ushering you toward his open seat at the bar instead of tucked between two of them in a little booth. it's when you approach the bar to refill your drinks when the man finally speaks up.

• "doll," he clears his throat, words slurring together. "you're too pretty to be ignoring me like that."

• "i don't mean to," you protest, giving him sweet eyes. "you're being distracting."

• "so it's working then," he smirks, leaning back in the stool. "stick around, won't you? at least give me your name so i can put it to my fantasies later tonight."

• you take the drinks in your arms, balancing some in your grip and others against your body. "who said tonight will just end in a fantasy? keep distracting me, hotshot, and you might have a chance."

• his eyes widen in amusement, cracking a grin as he sips on his drink. you return to your friends, who all pester you for a play-by-play of the interaction, one that becomes progressively lost to you as the alcohol warbles your memory.

• you're later on the dance floor, now fully inebriated and not entirely present in the moment. your movements feel fluid, however, and you feel a part of the waves of the crowd as the music thumps in your chest. you're too caught up in the moment for you to notice your friends had abandoned you, giving you adequate space to be approached from behind.

• "thought you could get away that easily?" a voice purrs into your ear, lips brushing against your hair. "leaving me all needy for more?"

• "needy?" you coo, craning your neck, inches away from his face. "didn't think i could leave you that hot and bothered from a few funny looks."

• "don't sell yourself short," his hand finds your shoulder and gently spins you to face him. as he opens his mouth to add onto his flirtatious comment, your eyes widen in realization.

• "i knew you were a familiar face," you comment, reaching up to snake your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "you're johnny cage, aren't you?"

• "guilty as charged," his eyes are glossed over, lip ever so slightly quivering as he looks down at you. "dealbreaker, or big turn-on?"

• "i haven't decided yet," you tease, subconsciously swaying to the music. "you're persistent, that's for sure.'

• "i couldn't get my eyes off of you," he admits, somewhat sheepishly. "you'll have to genuinely forgive me. i don't think i've been this smitten from anyone... in a while. you're one to get a man worked up."

• the two of you sway to the music, a stark contrast to the rowdy dance crowd around you, and yet, you felt in your own world with this man. his eyes were silently pleading with you, visibly torn between spewing more charm or keeping his mouth shut and just enjoying the moment. you were the same, mind flowing a million miles a minute yet only able to pull out phrases of just how badly you needed him. you refused to admit it, however, as you knew an actor like him surely had people crawling up his leg for just a chance. you wanted him to take the lead.

• he seems to read your mind, either that or he let the alcohol talk. "doll."

• words feel hard. "mm?"

• "tell me you feel this too," his hands snake to your hips, pawing at the skin. "i can't think straight."

• "because you're drunk," you point out, tilting your head with a lazy grin. "don't be dramatic."

• "i'm not... no, i am one for the dramatics," he insists, contagiously grinning back. "i think i'd regret it forever if i lost this."

• he leans into you, breath fanning against your lips. he smells of alcohol, and yet there's something expensive underneath it, a designer cologne or a musky aftershave. it serves you no justice in keeping your wits about you as you lean toward him in response, placing a deep yet chaste kiss on his mouth. you feel him groan in response to your reciprocation.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

• it's not long after the bathroom door is shut and locked when johnny's lips are desperately clinging to yours, kissing with a deep hunger and chasing your lips even after you pull away for air. his hands wander feverishly, trying to grope and squeeze any amount of flesh he could fit in his grasp.

• "if you don't-" he catches his breath, pressing you against the bathroom door. "-if you don't let me taste you... fuck, please, i don't even-" he's cut off when you reach up to his hair, grabbing a fistful by the scalp and pushing downward. johnny obeys scarily quickly, dropping to his knees with a presumably painful thud. he doesn't seem to notice the ache.

• on his knees, johnny hooks your leg over his shoulder, giving him the viewing pleasure of your panties underneath your small dress. his mouth hones in on your clothed cunt, nosing at the fabric and agonizingly overflowing his senses. you hiss in response, pulling his hair away from your pussy. he whines deeply, eyes up at you with a pathetic look.

• "please," he begs, his hand sliding up and down your thigh. "please let me taste you, please." he blinks his wet eyelashes up at you, slowly making his way back to your core. "i'll make it feel so good, i promise, please."

• you feel sick with yourself and so fucking pleased at the same time, knowing that if the public knew what a pathetic mutt he was around your cunt would surely taint his career. with one hand pulling at his hair, you push him back into your core, his nose burying and pressing against your clit.

• he sucks and flicks his tongue anywhere he can reach, forgetting the basics of cunnilingus as he pathetically goes down on you, relishing in your taste and adequately soaking the bottom portion of his face. it's embarrassing, really, the sounds your slick is making against him, but there's no time to feel ashamed when it feels like he's trying to swallow your core.

• the back of your head hits the door as you whine and moan, arching off of the door and rolling your hips deeper into his face. he hums in response, squeezing your thighs as he pulls you impossibly closer into his tongue, one that finds your hole and prods as deep as he can reach, caressing your walls and closing his eyes as he appreciates your willingness to receive.

• "so good," he breathes against your clit, making it twitch from the cool breath. "you taste... like heaven, doll."

• as you attempt to reply, he kisses at your clit once before wrapping his lips around you, sucking hungrily and seemingly unending for at least a full minute. your orgasm peeks its head from around the corner, suddenly scared out from his sudden movements. it builds a warmth in your stomach as your cunt is brutally attacked by his tongue and lips.

• "johnny—" you whine out, legs wobbling. "can't stand—" your warning was answered by his grip as he heaves your other leg over his other shoulder, his form now entirely holding you up against the door. he can't speak, he couldn't if he tried, for if he unlatched from your pussy now it might've felt like hell. he needed to make you cum, taste yourself and feel the way your walls clench and flutter as you come undone. his own aching cock was paid no mind, it was the least of his concerns when such a pretty being was right in front of him, making the most delightful noises from the work he was doing. he felt pride, as he usually does, but he felt... more. he felt addicted, obsessed, and wanted to make you feel like this all the time, he decided.

• your orgasm scares the life out of you as it suddenly jolts through your body, electricity and warmth shooting through your veins as you lurch forward, grabbing two fistfuls of his hair as he shakes his head, tongue abusing your clit. you cry out, using the top of his head to muffle your sounds of pleasure. it was too much, more than you'd ever felt, and something primal in you wanted to control him. he'd make a good boytoy, you thought, and it seemed he was thinking the same. he pulls away finally, lip twitching as he fights a playful grin. his eyes flick up to you once before dropping back down.

• "so," he breathily speaks, eyes still honed in on your twitching cunt. "i think i did this backwards. can i get your number?"

[ladykailitha]

The Caged Bird Still Sings Part 16

So... in my defense I was really sick yesterday and accidentally scheduled the post for 10:17am and snuck in chapter 16. And I didn't even realize it until the other chapter had several likes, comments, and reblogs.

So I'm posting this now as a sort "Sorry I fucked up! Enjoy an extra chapter on me!" type thing!

In this we have Steve's no good, horrible, rotten bad day and the end of Act 2.

Also? Cliffhanger!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10  Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

~

Steve was feeling all the stares from both his fellow employees and the customers. He felt like shrinking in on himself every time it happened. It was like they couldn’t figure out what was so wrong with him that his dad would chase him out of town. Because most of the town didn’t know.

Clint Harrington had seen to that. Oh, his buddies knew, his wife’s sewing circle and club ladies knew, but the lessers? Nah, they only heard rumors. And whoo boy did Steve hear some wild ones.

Like that he had been caught in an orgy, or that he been dealing drugs out of the pool house or even that he had been caught with an underaged girl.

Thankfully most of the people didn’t believe that one one bit. But it was near thing and if Steve got his hands on Hank Tippets he was going to wring the man’s neck for that rumor.

It was Robin’s day off, and while usually the boss had them work together, Steve was with three other kids.

Three kids who had been slacking all day, making Steve handle the rush and refilling both the ice cream and toppings, and generally just being asses of themselves.

He was on his last nerve.

“Okay, guys!” Steve huffed putting his hands on his hips. “I’m all for slacking, but I am not the only capable of getting out the ice cream. It’s someone else’s turn!”

The two girls rolled their eyes but did what they were told. The boy on the other hand refused to budge.

“Just because you’re older,” he huffed, grabbing a handful of M&Ms and just shoving them in his face, “doesn’t mean you get to boss us around, man. Go back to whatever bridge you crawled out of.”

Steve’s lip curled. “That’s gross.” He rolled his eyes and put one hand on his hip. “And besides I didn’t crawl out from under a bridge, you did. Look at you. You’re hair is greasy, you smell like you haven’t bathed in years, and you have a stain on your shorts I don’t even want to think of what that is.”

“It’s chocolate,” the kid said with a sneer. “So if you aren’t living under a bridge then where are you living?”

Alarm bells went off in Steve’s head. “The only address anyone needs is my PO Box where to send my paycheck.” He shrugged. “Other than that, why do you care? What are you the Feds?”

The kid rolled his eyes at that and walked away. Steve shook his head. He just had to keep his head down and his mouth shut until he found something else.

Suddenly both girls were giggling and shushing each other.

“Hey, Steve can you come here for a moment?” the one called out. “I think the door to the freezer is stuck.”

Steve sighed and went to the back area, but as soon as he opened the door, a bucket of warm, melted strawberry ice cream fell on top of him. It hit the side of his head, knocking the hat off and clattered to the ground. He was covered head to toe in a gooey, sticky mess. It was in his hair and in his shoes and his socks were drenched.

Suddenly laughter filled his ears as he realized what had happened. This had been their plan all day. To get him annoyed enough that he would just barge through and get it dumped on him. He felt like fucking Sissy Spacek in ‘Carrie’.

Hot tears welled up as he tore off apron, stomping on the stupid hat and storming out of there. All the to calls of telling to come back, that it was all a joke, that he needed to lighten up.

He dashed off to his car, leaving behind a trial of melted ice cream. He tried to put the key in the door, but his hands shook too bad. He was forced to sit next to the car as he sobbed.

A man came up to him, waving his hands and shouting. “You there! Get away from that car! That mess will ruin the paint job!”

Steve looked up at him in shock. “But it’s my car!” he protested and showed him the keys. “See?”

“You’ve clearly stolen this car!” the man bellowed. “I’m going to call the police!” He made a grab for the keys but Steve was faster. They wrestled for them.

“Get off me!” he cried. “Help!”

Suddenly the man was being pulled off of Steve and the sense of relief he felt when he heard Hopper’s growling voice asking what the hell was going on, was palpable.

“This boy stole this car!” the man howled, still trying to get to Steve and take the key.

Hopper, who was dressed for work, leaned down to look closely at him. “Harrington? Is that you under all that goop?”

“Yes, sir,” Steve said, lifting his tear stained face up at the police chief. “My coworkers dumped old and melted ice cream on me and I was just trying to go home.”

Hopper sighed. He shook the man he pulled off of Steve. “That’s his car and if you don’t stop your screaming I’m taking you in for assault and attempted theft.”

The man’s eyes went wide and he scrambled to get away from Steve and Hopper.

Hopper turned back to Steve. “Come on, kid. Let’s get you into your car so you can go home and clean off.” He took the keys from Steve and unlocked the door. “Now drive real careful, all right? Don’t want you in an accident because you’re too emotional to drive.”

Steve nodded. He got to his feet and drove off, clearly being mindful of his state of mind, taking time to do things he wouldn’t normally think about.

Now to go raise fucking Cain with the manager of Scoops Ahoy.

~

The kids were still doubled over with laughter when Hopper came storming into the store.

“You kid!” he barked causing all of them to stop laughing and stand up straight. He peered at the name tag. “Kyle. Get a mop and a bucket and you mop every inch of the mall that has even one drop of that pink goop.”

Kyle opened his mouth to argue but closed it when Hopper glared at him. He ran to grab the mop and bucket and started with mess in front of the store.

“You two,” Hopper growled, “Close the store now. This the scene of a crime. An assault. I will also need the number to the owner or manager. And I mean I want it yesterday.”

The first girl whose name tag read Mary hurried to pull the front gate closed most of the way. Enough to show they were closed, but open enough so Kyle could get back in.

The other girl crossed her arms and scowled at Hopper. Her name tag said Linda. “No one’s been assaulted. We’ve been here the whole time, we would have seen something like that.”

The gate rattled as Kyle forced his way back in with the bucket and mop. Hopper looked over his shoulder.

“Good,” he huffed in annoyance, “you’re all here. That means I don’t have to repeat myself. I’m referring to the assault on Steve Harrington. Dropping a bucket of that size, filled with melted ice cream could have seriously hurt him. What would you lot have done if the bucket had his his head dead on and knocked him unconscious?”

Kyle scoffed. “Like that could happen. Not!”

“Yeah, kid,” Hopper growled, “you a cop or firefighter or even EMT? You some Doogie Howser or some shit? Because if you’re not any of that then you don’t get to tell me what’s possible or not.”

Kyle gulped and looked away as the girls eyes went wide.

“We weren’t trying to hurt him,” Mary insisted. “We were only trying to humiliate him a little. I mean have you seen that fancy car of his. He doesn’t need this job. We do.”

“It doesn’t matter why he’s working here,” Hopper said gruffly. “He was hired to do the fucking job, just leave him alone. You didn’t even have to like him. Just. Not that.”

Hopper called the manager and he was over in a heartbeat. He spotted the gate down first and then splattered mess everywhere.

“What the hell has happened here?” the man shrieked. He spotted Hopper and first he went deathly pale and then he went bright red. “I want to know the meaning of all this!” He yanked the gate up and slipped inside.

Hopper walked up to him. “Mr. Bauman, I’m Chief Hopper and three of your employees set up a bucket trap filled with bad strawberry ice cream, causing it dump all over a fourth employee’s head. A Steve Harrington. I am taking the three kids in for questioning and if I feel it’s serious enough, pressing charges on Harrington’s behalf.”

Murray straightened his back and pushed his glasses further up his nose. “Now see here. You have no proof they did anything of the sort. Just Steve’s word.”

Hopper advanced on him, like a panther seeking its prey, but Murray didn’t even flinch. “You’ve got cameras in his place right?”

Suddenly Linda was running for the manager’s office, but Hopper’s voice cracked out like a whip. “You touch that tape and I will absolutely haul your ass in for tampering with evidence.”

Linda skidded to a stop and Murray stared at her agape. “What the honest fuck?”

“I’m gonna take that as an admission of guilt,” Hopper said, narrowing his eyes at her.

Linda ducked her head and slowly walked back to stand next to Mary and Kyle, her hands clasped in front of her.

“I’ll look at the tape and bring it over to the sheriff’s station,” Murray vowed. He turned the three stooges. “And if I find anything on that tape that even so much as hints you did what Chief Hopper is suggesting. Don’t bother coming back into work. Because you’re fired. And I’ll make sure no one in this mall will hire you.”

Hopper nodded at Murray and then turned to the kids. “Now I don’t have enough handcuffs for all of ya, but I’m about to get really creative.”

~

Steve came home and just stripped his uniform off and just face planted into the bed. He didn’t care about his hair or that he was still covered goop. He just wanted to bury himself under the blankets and never emerge.

He must have fallen asleep because he woken up by Robin on the phone.

“No, Mom,” she hissed. “I don’t care what you say. I’m not going back to working at Scoops. Not after what they did to Steve. And I’m not quitting the Corroded Coffin job. He needs me.”

She paused for a moment. “Nope there is nothing you can do to change my mind. Look there’s another call coming through. Chief Hopper said he’d call with more information.”

Robin slammed the phone down and muttered, “Oh yeah, I’m so grounded. Worth it, though.” The phone rang immediately and she picked it up. “Chief Hopper. No, he’s still sleeping. I would be too after after everything he’s gone through.”

She listened for awhile, putting in the appropriate hum where required.

“Yeah, I’ll be sure to tell him,” she said. “I think he’s waking up. Did you want to him? Not a problem. Thank you.”

Steve gave up all pretense of sleep and sat up, rubbing his eyes. His arm was still sticky and gross but he didn’t care.

“I’d tell you to cover up,” Robin said with a grimace, gesturing to all of him, “but you don’t have to.”

He looked down at himself and realized that he had fallen asleep on the covers in just his underwear and socks. “Oh. Sorry.” He pulled a pillow over his junk and stared up at her.

“So as you could probably guess, that was Chief Hopper,” she said. “He said to tell you that he gave each of the perpetrators a little scare down at the station and made their parents come get them. The dude that tried to assault you about your car, was picked up later for erratic driving and given a ticket. Sgt. Callahan pegged him as the guy because he still had ice cream all down the front of his expensive suit and tie.”

“Good,” Steve said dryly. “Bastard. I was literally sobbing my guts out and he was more concerned with the paint job.”

“Yeah,” Robin said. “Karma bit his ass hard.”

She sat down next to him and put her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry about what happened. I know it’s not my fault or anything, but it really sucks that they did that to you.”

“Thanks Robs,” he murmured.

She stood back up. “I’ve told everyone to leave you alone for a couple of days so when you’re ready to see people again, reach out okay?”

He nodded as she walked to the door. She paused with her hand on the doorknob. She turned back. “Just one more thing. Hopper says he told Joyce about the bullying and she has said she’ll back off about the job now. So there’s at least that silver lining.”

“Yeah.”

~

Steve wasn’t sure how long he laid in bed, but it was obviously enough for a welfare check up from his friends on the staff.

This time it was only Bob and Rosa, but they both looked concerned.

“There is gunk everywhere,” Rosa huffed and waved her hand over his room. “The bed sheets stink and you are wallowing, mi amor.”

“You’ve got to at least shower,” Bob said with a note of distress in voice. “Give Rosa time to clean the room, change the bedding.”

Steve shook his head. There was no need to get out of bed ever again.

Then the door of the hotel room swung open and Bob and Rosa turned.

“Just who are you that you can just be walking in here?!” she bellowed, rounding on the stranger with her duster.

The man raised his hands up in surrender. “I’m Eddie Munson. I pay for the room.”

End of Act 2

~

Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24

Oops! When I took people off the list, I forgot to add the new people on!

Tag List: CLOSED

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10- @fearieshadow @kultiras @thesecondfate @tartarusknight @genderless-spoon

[cokou]

𝚂𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚘𝚟𝚊 𝚃𝚛𝚒𝚘 + 𝙰𝚌𝚎 × 𝙵𝚎𝚖!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

sum. Forcing your boyfriend to adopt a new fuzzy friend into the household, maybe you've spent too much time with the fuzzy. ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tw. Fluff. Jealousy. Law's and Ace's a bit longer cause, favoritism. ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ a/n. New writing style! We could never go wrong with loving fuzzy and cute animals!! Dont transfer or translate in any platforms,this is my only account, will not be cross posted anywhere! masterlist♡

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷𝙻𝚊𝚠

After joining the Heart Pirates and dating their captain, your number one entertainment is to soend time with Bepo and Law. While Bepo does feel embarrassed for your acts to him, you absolutely felt like he's a huge cuddly bear more than a scary one.

He even complained to Law himself that he should get you your very own fuzzy friend since you've bothered Bepo so much he couldn't face you anymore without getting embarrassed! Law, the asshole he is, refused to get you one.

You very much enjoyed the idea and pestered Law into getting you one yourself and have some dignity for Bepo, then, he finally agreed. You both visited a pet shop, and just with it's entrance you couldn't leave anymore. Inside were full of cute animals waiting to be adopted, you just wanted to take them all.

"(Name)-Ya, what about this guy?" He pointed and peeked into the small cage, and there, was a white fluffy kitty who has just woken up from its slumber. Yes, perfect! It looked so cute and cuddly! You already fell inlove with it just by looking! "Awh, look at how much she resembles Bepo!"

You both took her back, and upon your arrival you set her free in her new home, the sub.

For the past few weeks, your attention had been glued to your new friend, not wanting anything on your path. It was so bad you had more pictures of her than you and Law combined! And the way you trip because you watch her instead of where you were going.

Law on the other hand, was definitely not feeling it, he felt like the white furball just replaced him with everything! You shared a bed with her, she gets your attention, she gets to be with you all day! If he were honest, he would blurt out how jealous he was for the furball.

In which, you suspected him for. "Law, are you really okay? You've been quiet and only staring since you sat down."

"I told you I am okay, don't worry." He finally let out a sigh after realizing you weren't with the kitten anymore, that was until he heard meow, and behind you was the kitten. You picked her up and setted her into your lap, receiving a piercing glance from Law.

"Are you okay? You're doing the stare aga— ohhhh..." You had finally realized that he was jealous, not by anyone, but the kitty that you've been giving attention to.

"What?" "Don't tell me you're jealous of our little furball!" You laugh at him. "What?! W-why the hell would you think that?"

"Law, it's quite obvious...come here, lay with us." You invited him with open arms and he jumped right into you.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷𝙻𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚢

Ever since Chopper had joined the Straw Hats, you couldn't take your hands off his cheeks and head, continuesly patting and hugging him from his cuteness. Even your boyfriend, Luffy had agreed!

Chopper was definitely nice to have around, when you're stressed? You pat him. When you need to let it out? Hug him. He's just so cute and fuzzy! The way you'd kill people when you hear them talk bad about Chopper, because you refuse to let people think that he was a monster.

Eventually Luffy thought that you and Chopper became best friends of how you two always chatter about everything, at first he taught it's what makes the crew more unique.

But eventually, after a month, he noticed how you'd been glued with the reindeer all the time. He taught it was normal since you two were best friends but, this time you might have crossed the line.

"(Name)!! I'm hungry, can you cook meat?" He asked you with the usual big smile on his face. "Oh no Luffy, could you ask Sanji? I'm hanging out with Chopper today.." Bad Idea, you never refused to cook him meat even if you were busy. He knew you enough to just refuse to cook meat for him. The way he frowned as you waved him and went into the dock with Chopper.

Later that night, when everyone was asleep, you felt someone tugging your clothes. "Pst, (Name)." It was Luffy.

"Eh? Luffy? Why are you awake at a time like this.." you groggily whispered. "Just come here" You spproach his area and he pulled you with him.

"Finally some peace between us" He gave you a big grin and placed his hand on your back. "It's been a while you know— you've always been with Chopper."

"Luffy, wh— are you jealous of Chopper?" You came with a conclusion that maybe, just maybe he got jealous of your constant hanging out eith Chopper.

"Hmm...is that how you name it, (Name)? If so then yes!" You plopped your hands on his chest and gave him a giggle. "You could've said so earlier, i would've spent more time with you, Lu"

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷𝙺𝚒𝚍𝚍

It was 100% your idea, you had convinced Eustass to bring company of an animal into the Victoria Punk. Not only because you had no one to talk to other than Killer or Kidd himself, but simply because it was boring out in the ship.

Lucky for you, Kidd agreed to get you one of your choice, in exchange of...things. So you decided to get a Cat of your choice, simply after declaring it's recruitment into the Kidd Pirates. You gave every ounce of your attention to it, even if it means opening the door of the bathroom when you take a shower just incase the furball could come inside and pet itself across your legs.

Well that only happened twice, what DID happen was Eustass peeking at you while taking a shower, which happened about 90% of the time. You didn't mind though.

Back to our fur friend, it bothered the cleaners of the ship on how they'd find furry hair on every furniture they clean. Kidd even complained that your shared bed was full of cat fur and that it was sticking onto his skin! But you couldn't careless.

Everytime you had a chance to sit, the cat eould latch itself into your lap, preventing you from standing up and doing business. Because standing would mean disrespectful!

Now we have an angry Eustass, whenever he wants you to be around him your excuse would always be 'But theyre on my lap' and 'im playing with them give me a while' He was getting fed up with both you and the cat itself.

So you're at the comfort place in the ship, with Kidd having a staring contest with the animal on your lap, whilst you read a book a chill. Then suddenly he spoke up, "Okay that's enough." He stood up, took the cat and placed it outside the room.

"Why'd you do that for?!"

"Oh please, you have all your attention on that animal since it stepped foot into the ship, give it a break." He scoffed.

"Or you're just jealous because i give it more attention than you?" Oh, NOW you're dead. "JEALOUS?? Why would i be jealous over a stupid furry?!" He was. He was 100% jealous.

"Okay first of all, it's not a stupid furry! And second of all, you seem pretty defensive, if you're jealous just say it."

"WHAT?! No im n—"

"—Which, you definitely are, come here you big baby. I'll give you the attention you deserve." You cutted him off, now you're gonna be in big trouble.

"And i expect the attention to be filled, get on the bed fucker." It would definitely be a longggg night.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷𝙰𝚌𝚎

He IS the one who suggested to get a furry friend. He'd definitely be the type to adopt a puppy, and then proceed to name it one of the most basic names ever. You could see the disappointment in Marco's face when he found out he named the precious puppy 'Oreo' because it's fur was Black AND White.

He had gotten you the precious puppy as a gift for your birthday as he found out you're into having pets, and your reason? They were CUTE as hell. He had gotten you a puppy who's fur is at the brownish side.

"Hmm, what should we name him?!" "OH! OH! I know! Brownie!"..."Are you being serious, Ace?" You looked at him, praying that the name he suggested was only for sarcasm, but you were taken aback from his response. "What do you mean babe? Of course i am! It's such a perfect name for him!"

"It's... one of the most basic names I've ever heard. " You spared him a straight face, sending shivers down his spine. "Okay, okay I'll think of another name! Hm..how about Cookie?" Yeah he doesn't have naming privileges anymore.

In the end you both sticked into the name you had chosen for the puppy. Everything was going great for the first week, you buying him all the stuff he needed, the most high qualited dog food, and even his own supplies had beaten yours! With an average of spending atleast thoudands of Berries a week.

The second week hadn't been different at all, except for the fact that now that the puppy was growing, it became even more plsyful towards you. Meaning you, had soent almost all your time with it. On the other hand, your boyfriend Ace, ended up getting bitten at the hand for trying to take away it's toy that you gave.

"Babe! Do you see those eyes that's looking at me right now?! It looks like it's gonna KILL me!" Ace climbed up on a chair when he entered the house unannounced and the dog had decided to chase him for dear life.

"Come one Bae, he won't hurt you like at all! He's an angel!" You petted the dog, causing him to sit. "Yeah if it was opposite day I would've believed you! look at him, it looks like it's gonna bite my limbs of one by one!"

"Come on Ace! He won't bite you!" As soon as you reassured Ace thst nothing eould happen if he stepped down, he tried lowering his left foot down, causing the dog the fully bark at him. "SEE?!" Ace's voice was almost crying.

"Bad dog! You know he's the one who brought you to me right?! He's basically your dad! Go to your bed!" The dog whimpers then climbs it's bed.

"You know, after this i expect a full week of attention all mine! Okay?!" Ace pouts and settles himself down from the chair. You gave him a reassuring kiss, "I promise,"

©Cokou 2024, all works made by me.

[lexkent]

Why Lionel Luthor is the True Villain of Smallville:

Threatened to expose Clark's fake adoption records unless Jonathan Kent persuaded Pete Ross’s family to sell their factory to him.

Kidnapped Clark and put him in a vat of kryptonite solution to be studied in an attempt to discover his secrets.

Kept Clark trapped in a cage made of kryptonite in a separate incident.

Impregnated his dying wife's nurse while he was in a position of power over her as her boss, denied he was responsible, and had her locked away in a psychiatric ward for 7 years after taking her baby away from her. Lionel insured the child, Lucas, remained in poverty in the foster care system and prevented him from ever being adopted.

Forced the second woman he impregnated while married to Lillian, while in a position of power over her as her boss, to give their child to an orphanage where she was tortured. He soon found another home for Tess where she grew up in poverty and extreme physical abuse.

Forced his wife to have another baby despite her objections and was then dismissive of her postpartum depression. "I told you I didn't want any more children. I see how you treat Alexander, chipping away at his spirit."

Found a child, Davis Bloome, in a cornfield and believing him to be The Traveler, ran experiments on the boy until he realized he wasn't who he wanted and proceeded to dump him off alone on a dark Metropolis street.

Created a clone from a dead little girl, Emily Dinsmore, and locked her away in a lab, refusing to let her father ever see her again. "You can't take her away from me. She's my daughter." "She's the property of Luthorcorp."

Was such a terrible father to Lex that Lillian Luthor killed her infant son to spare him from the cruel and twisted parenting Lex endured from Lionel. Was such a horrible husband to Lillan that Lex took the blame for his baby brother's death knowing Lionel would have murdered her in retaliation.

Lied and told Lex that Lucas died in infancy, like Julian, knowing how much it would hurt Lex to hear.

Paid someone to kill Lucas once he became a potential threat to his power. Clark stopped the bullets, and Lionel had the shooter killed in police custody before he could talk.

Forced Lex's mother figure, Pamela Jenkins, out of Lex's life following the death of Lex's mother because he didn't want her to make Lex soft. Convinced Lex that Pamela never loved him and was only ever interested in their money. 

Blew up Chloe and Gabe Sullivan's safehouse in an attempt to kill them and prevent her from testifying against him at his murder trial. Hired a mutant hitman to kidnap and kill Chloe after she escaped the explosion.

Had Oliver Queen's parents killed in a plane crash leaving him orphaned at the age of 5.

Ordered the murder of Andrea Rojas’s mother who was an activist who worked for an organization that fought back against gangs, dealers, and large business corporations. In addition to losing her mother, Andrea was stabbed in the heart during the attack.

Resurrected a teenager, Adam Knight, to get close to Lana Lang and spy on Clark Kent. When Adam failed to retrieve useful information, Lionel refused to give him any more of the serum he required to stay live. As a result, Adam suffered immensely before dying of organ failure.

Resurrected Vince Davis who lived for a short, painful period of time before his body deteriorated without access to Lionel's serum.

Poisoned Lex with a lethal dosage that would've killed 99.9% of people.

Told Lex he loved him in prison only to persuade him into accepting his hand so he could use a Kryptonian stone to body swap them, leaving Lex to rot and die in prison in his place while Lionel escaped with Lex's body. Instead, Clark intervened and Lionel escaped inside of Clark's body, leaving Clark trapped to die in prison. Shortly after the bodyswap occured, Lionel looked down the front inside of his(Clark's) waistband while smiling to himself. While in Clark Kent's body, Lionel initiated a hug with Martha Kent where he was turned on to the point of shooting heat vision from his eyes. Lionel-in-Clark's body flirted with Chloe, a teenager, and was centimeters away from kissing her. And when Lionel-in-Clark's body encountered Lana, a teenager, he said to her, "A man would travel around the world to pluck your succulent fruit," and forced a kiss onto her, smiling to himself after she slapped him and ran away. Lionel proceeded to attack Lex, choking him, slamming his head against a desk, and demanding 57 million dollars using Clark's super strength. He then went to the Kent Farm and threw Jonathan across the room into the kitchen cabinets. Lionel told Clark he would murder Lex if he didn't cooperate with his demands.

Pretended to be blind. "Playing the handicapped card is low, even for you." "But I was able to see more clearly than ever. It's amazing what people try and get away with right in front of your eyes when they think you can't see."

Fired 2,500 Smallville citizens to force his son back under his control. When Lex attempted to organize an employee buyout of the factory, Lionel bought the Smallville Savings and Loan and threatened to foreclose on every employee's mortgage. When Lex continued to organize and fight to save everyone's jobs, Lionel threatened, "I'll bury you and everyone in Smallville who takes your side."

Blackmailed Smallville sheriff Ethan Millar into digging up dirt on every Lexcorp shareholder(Smallville factory workers), so Lionel could blackmail each one into selling their shares to him in order to take over Lex's fledgling company. In addition, Lionel threatened to expose the sheriff if he didn't do him various favors.

Once again tried blackmailing Jonathan Kent leading to a physical altercation between the two. Lionel fled the scene as Jonathan suffered a fatal heart attack.

Installed hidden cameras and microphones throughout Lex's office, so he could sabotage him and steal his business deals.

Took over Lex's company, which Lex had invested everything he had into, leaving him with nothing and immediately kicking him out of his home.

Insisted an ill-advised, life-threatening surgery be performed on Lex after he had been shot and wasn't stable enough for further surgery, making it clear he'd prefer a dead son over a physically disabled one.

Set Lex up for the murders of Dr. Teng and her entire team at Metron Labs after Lex refused to work for him.

Had sex with Lex's lover, Victoria Hardwick, while they were still sleeping together. 

Hired Dr. Helen Bryce to seduce and spy on Lex for him. Helen later attempted to murder Lex on their honeymoon.

Gave Martha Kent a watch engraved, "To Martha, with deep affection. L.L." while she was his employee and happily married to Jonathan Kent.

Refused to come clean about his past sexual involvement with Rachel Dunleavy and the existence of their son, Lucas, despite Lex being held hostage and his survival depending on Lionel telling the truth.

Refused to come clean about Level 3 when it would have saved the lives of a group of teenagers and his own son. 

Ignored and denied any care to his employee, Earl Jenkins, who was poisoned by kryptonite on the job which led to uncontrollable, dangerous seizures.

Created a deadly fear toxin for the military that leaked into Smallville.

Drugged, gaslit, attacked, and framed his son, orchestrating a scenario where everyone would believe Lex to be crazy after Lex discovered Lionel had his parents murdered for insurance money. Lionel had Lex committed to Belle Reve Sanitarium where he had Lex further drugged and put through electroshock therapy, forcing 600 volts of electricity through Lex's brain. When the doctor insisted they pause the procedure for Lex's safety, Lionel ignored the warning and demanded they continue. This brain frying could have easily destroyed Lex's mind, as it did for others who endured it, and ultimately wiped away months of Lex's memories, allowing Lionel to be off the hook for his parent's murders. Everyone involved in Lionel's plot, all loose ends, met untimely deaths.

Threatened, manipulated, controlled, hyper criticized, denied affection, and lied to Lex constantly. Lionel mentally, emotionally, and physically abused his child throughout his entire life, raising him to become a monster and then denying any accountability for what Lex became in the end.

This list is far from complete, so feel free to add more!

[heeseung-min]

[21:14]

You eyes started to blink when you heard screaming nearby. It's not one. It's like a bunch of girls screaming for help. Slowly, you finally gained consciousness and looked at your surrounding. You realized you were in a basement. Few metres in front of you there was a big cage that can fit few people in there and you recognized every single one in there.

"Y/n, you wake up? HELP US! Someone has abducted all of us and you!

Dami, one of the girls yelled to you. You looked at yourself who were on bed that is perfectly fine and in comfortable clothes while all of them looked miserable. You wondered what makes the treatment towards you and them are different.

"YAH!! WE TOLD YOU TO HELP US OUT!! ARE YOU DEAF, BITCH--"

Everyone and you gasped when the girl who were shouting just now got shot straight to her head. The girls were screaming freaking out when they saw one of their friends die. You turned to the left where the man who shot the girl just now put down his shotgun.

"Damn it, yall can't even shut your mouth for a minute?"

It was Jay. Your classmate.

The girls went silent and sobbing quietly because they don't want to get shoot by him. Jay turned himself to you and started to walk closer.

"How do you feel? Do you want to eat something?"

He asked as he caressed your hair gently. It's like two different people. Just now you saw Jay shot someone and now he was being gentle and soft to you. But you can't deny the scene traumatized you too. Your hands were shaking when he leaned closer.

"Stop....stop it."

"What? What do you mean, sweet?"

"Let ...us go. Why are you doing this, Jay?"

Jay stopped caressing your head and chuckled when you asked him that.

"I did it for you, Y/n. Don't you like it? I made your bullies suffered. They don't deserve to live after what they had done."

You looked at the tray that was moving to the girls. Your eyes widened at the sight of hot wax getting closer to them. Jay watched the scene with wide smile on his face.

"Stop it."

"Why? I know you like it too, Y/n."

"I said stop it, Jay!!!"

He pushed the button to stop the tray from falling to the girls. Jay sighed and looked at you.

"Don't pretend, baby. I know you are happy to see people you hate suffering. Just like what you did to your father."

It's like Jay just dropped a bomb on you. Your hands became shakier after he said that.

_________

_________

"Why I have a daughter when I can have a son. Raising a daughter bring so much burden."

That's what your dad always said every single day. He never teaches you anything but will ask you for many favors. If you refuse, you will heard he complain about it later.

"I can't believe your mother would ask me to keep you alive. Bitch, the doctor should make you die instead. At least if your mother was alive, we can still try for a boy."

Your last straw was when you cooked dinner for him.

"Feed this to a dog. I don't want to eat anything from you."

You watched he throw the food you cooked to the floor. After that, he went to the living room and watched his favourite show. You listened to his laugh while cleaning up the floor. You waited until he fell asleep and rolled your eyes when you heard his loud snoring.

"You wanted to meet mom so bad. Maybe I should do a favor for you."

__________

__________

"And I remember how you cried in front of those people when they said your father died due to carbon monoxide poisoning. Your acting was really impressive."

Your fists clenched while listening to what Jay said.

"But they didn't see you from the side. Your lips were smirking when your dad is finally dead."

"Shut the fuck up."

"Most people feel bad for you but I watched how you laugh after all of them left the funeral."

"I SAID SHUT THE FUCK UP!!"

Jay finally stopped talking and stared at your fuming expression. He looked so proud when telling about it. You made sure that no one find out about this.

"All I want is you to stop pretending, Y/N. You cannot lie to me. I know everything about you."

You sighed and tried to relax your body. After few seconds, you opened your eyes and Jay smirked when he saw your eyes changed. It is similar to what he saw when your father died.

"Give me a gun. I want to practice shooting."

The girls started to screaming and begging to you to not let them die.

"Let's play a game, okay? Try to avoid being shot as long as you can."

You said and started to fire the gun while Jay watched you admiringly.

💀💀💀well i hope it come out well, having writer block is no joke...i hope you guys still remember me🙁and hope you guys enjoy this as well.

Taglist: @stacey-stonem @huggyuvita @duolingofanaccount @obsessed1with1straykids @rowretro @eeunoia

[beomgewz]

LINGER

twelve , embarrassing (828 words)

“WHY are you a waitress if you cant do your fucking job?” lee seoyeon screeched, eyebrows furrowed at the food on the table — food she didnt order.

the poor waitress bowed, her eyes unable to meet seoyeon’s. “miss, im really sorry. it — it wont happen again.”

jisung’s cheeks flushed pink in embarrassment. his eyes darted back and forth between his girlfriend and the waitress. knowing his girlfriend, if he defended the waitress, she would go mad and start cussing him out. he only wanted to do what he thought was right.

“seoyeon, dont you think youre doing too much?” he didnt mean for his tone to come off so condescending. god, he fucked up.

seoyeon froze, slowly turning to face her boyfriend with an incredulous look on her face. she scoffed at him, “me? youre talking to me?” she pointed at the waitress, her head pointed down, looking at her shoes in shame. “this bitch cant even do her job right! you have one job, give the food to the right table— but no! she just fucks it up!”

jisung winced at how loud her voice was. everyone was looking at his table— it was embarrassing. it was so, so embarrassing.

he thought about you and haechan, how you both told him her behavior was embarrassing. right now, he was embarrassed to be your boyfriend. right now, she needs to have some decorum.

yes, haechan, he was embarrassed to be her boyfriend.

“seoyeon, youre embarrassing me. have some decorum.”

“jisung, are you serious?” seoyeon laughed at him in disbelief, clearly not used to her boyfriend calling her out. “she’s a waitress,” she told him, her tone condescending and judgmental, as if being a waitress was humiliating, “she’s supposed to be able to do her job right.”

“im— im sorry, i really am,” the waitress meekly let out. jisung turned to look at her, immediately noticing the tears that had rolled down her cheeks.

“dont apologize, its okay,” jisung reassured, “we all make mistakes and thats okay. im sorry my girlfriend yelled at you.”he sighed in embarrassment before looking back at his girlfriend. “dont chastise people for making mistakes. dont act like youre perfect, seoyeon. have some decorum.”

“are you fucking serious, jisung? where’s all of this coming from, huh?” she yelled, her voice being heard from anywhere in the cafe. “dont tell me you like her.”

“seoyeon, stop,” he told her. he was reaching for his wallet, pulling out cash that was way more than the amount they had to pay. he handed the cash to the waitress, smiling apologetically at her. “keep the change. im sorry for today.”

even in the car, seoyeon didnt refrain from screaming at him.

“do you want to explain why you were flirting with her in front of me?” she scoffed, her arms crossed against her chest as she looked at him with anger. “because from how i see it, you wanted to get into her pants.”

“and from how i see it, youre a disrespectful person who has no respect for others but yourself.”

it was as if the years being with her had caught up with him, because he just couldnt stop talking.

“do you ever realize how exhausting it is to keep up with you? to defend you when i know youre wrong?” he was angry, yet he kept his composure. he had thought about this very conversation way too many times. “because im always defending you whenever my friends talk bad of you — i defend you when i know theyre right.”

seoyeon narrowed her brows at him, refusing to see his perspective. “defend me from what?”

“from everything! you step over my friend’s boundaries? i have to tell him youre sorry when i know youre not!” he was trying his hardest not to raise his voice — he knew he couldnt.

“seoyeon, its embarrassing being with you.”

it was as if a cage opened, fresh air filling his lungs, his eyes welcoming the sunlight. it felt freeing to be able to tell her what had been weighing him down the past day.

“embarrassing? what type of boyfriend are you?”

“its embarrassing being with you when you disrespect other people, its embarrassing when you yell at people in public, its embarrassing whenever you think youre entitled to something, its just — youre just embarrassing, seoyeon.”

she simply stared at him in utter disbelief. this was foreign to her — her boyfriend being so confrontational. she always knew him as someone who kept things to himself rather than exploding on someone.

to hear him talk to her with so much disdain stung.

“ji — jisung…”

“my friends are embarrassed even being around you. theyre embarrassed being associated with you,” he breathed out, seemingly done with his rant. “and im starting to be embarrassed too.”

warm tears filled her eyes while she stared up at him, her lips quivering.

jisung almost felt guilty. almost.

“youre a fucking dick, jisung.”

no, he knew he wasnt.

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[nartml]

I get that THW was going for a sobering message of "sometimes you have to let people go" and "some friends can't stay forever", but it was hilariously unsuccessful.

It's still baffling to me, the amount of raving reviews calling it "the perfect ending".

Apart from the wild thematic inconsistencies, and the endless flaws with Hiccup's logic of "oh, yeah, I know that things have never before been this good for dragons, I know that Berk is living proof that even the most stubborn people can change their minds on dragons, I know that dragons thrive on companionship and love their humans, I know that good people exist, I know that I'm the instigator of a huge revolutionary period, butttttt..... because bad humans exist I'll lock away the entirety of the draconic population in a glorified underground cage, in the hopes that one day humans will stop being bad and learn to cooperate with the creatures that they question, or even forget, the existence of a measly decade after their disappearance. Magically.", this message plainly didn't fit.

Not just in a thematic context. I mean that it literally doesn't fit in this situation, and it doesn't fit the characters.

It doesn't even fit reality, because you have to let go of people for reasons. Some friends can't stay forever, for reasons.

Valid ones. Reasons like, you grew apart, you don't have shared interests anymore, they betrayed you in an unforgivable way, they're not good for you, they're not good to you, they died, etc etc.

Had any one of these happened? At any stage? The one thing you could, albeit pointlessly, argue is that they grew apart. That they outgrew each other.

Only that...they didn't? Did I miss something? Because Toothless flying away for, what, a day to spend some time with his love interest, is not outgrowing. Toothless finding romance does not mean that he and Hiccup grew apart.

And this isn't just about the Light Fury. I'm not discussing whether or not she's a good character (she isn't), and I'm not discussing whether or not she deserves Toothless (Ha, you're funny). Even if she were the absolute best, most perfect match for Toothless and a compelling character, it still wouldn't even remotely mean that he and Hiccup grew apart.

In fact, if you grow so far apart from your best friend that you can say goodbye to them forever, just because you found a new partner, then I really don't know what to tell you. (Except that you're probably not a good friend.)

Hiccup realizing that Toothless doesn't make him who he is, and doesn't define him, that he doesn't need Toothless in order to be someone, or even that he doesn't need Toothless at all, doesn't mean that he outgrew him. Not even slightly.

I mean, come on, I don't need the vast majority of people in my life. Arguably, I might not even need any of the people in my life. This doesn't mean I don't want them there.

This doesn't mean that I won't fight for them to stay right here, by my side.

Oh, look, how's that for a change? How about a movie where your friends refuse to leave you? Because that's what I want, and that's what How To Train Your Dragon deserved.

That's what Hiccup, and the rest of the Berkians, deserved. And that's what fit. That's what thematically fit, what fit reality, or at least the httyd reality, and what fit the characters themselves.

This movie treated the dragons as mindless pets, whereas in every other step of the way, they were treated as people.

Toothless isn't a just slobbery puppy.

Toothless is intelligent, curious, kind, understanding, funny, snarky and sarcastic, graceful, elusive, protective, loving, wary, and fucking loyal (plus much more).

I can't think of a character that has demonstrated as much loyalty and protectiveness as this guy.

And yet he was barely any of the aforementioned things in thw. He became unrecognizable.

All the dragons became unrecognizable, for no justifiable reason.

The final message shouldn't have been that your friends sometimes have to leave you, and that you have to let them go.

(The humans left the dragons just as much as the dragons left the humans btw)

It should've been that they'll fight tooth and nail to stay, even when the going gets tough, even when priorities shift, even when you tell them to go.

No matter how passionately you insist that caring for you is rotten work.

It's not to them.

[rafecamerons-national-anthem]

𝒜𝐿𝑅𝐸𝒜𝒟𝒴 𝐵𝑅𝒪𝒦𝐸𝒩-𝒟𝑅𝐸𝒲 𝒮𝒯𝒜𝑅𝒦𝐸𝒴

𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕤𝕥

𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪 Drew stands alone, filled with regret as he faces the heartbreaking truth: his career came first, and now he's losing the love of his life.

✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮

The sound of rain tapping against the windows filled the quiet room, a stark contrast to the thunderstorm brewing between the two people standing at opposite ends of the living room. The soft glow of the city lights barely reached inside, casting Drew Starkey’s face in shadows as he stood in the dim light, jaw clenched, hands trembling with frustration.

Y/N, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as if trying to hold everything together, felt like she was unraveling at the seams. The silence between them had always been comforting, but tonight it was suffocating. She couldn’t breathe. The weight of unspoken words, of late nights spent alone, and promises broken, hung heavily in the air.

“I don’t know what you want from me,” Drew finally spoke, his voice strained, but his eyes refused to meet hers. It was as if he couldn’t bear to see the pain he knew he had caused her.

“What do I want from you?” Y/N repeated, disbelief lacing her words as she shook her head, her heart pounding against her ribcage. “I wanted you, Drew. That’s all I ever wanted.”

Drew flinched, guilt flashing across his face for a moment, but just as quickly, it disappeared behind his guarded expression. He raked his hand through his hair, pacing the room like a caged animal. “You knew this is how it would be. The fame, the long hours, the traveling I didn’t ask for this life to be easy.”

Her heart sank as she watched him rationalize, but that didn’t ease the ache growing in her chest. “It’s not about the long hours or the traveling. I knew what I was signing up for when I fell in love with you, Drew. But you weren’t there when I needed you the most.”

The words escaped her before she could stop them. She’d been holding onto them for so long, they’d become like a poison inside her one that needed to be purged. Her eyes welled with tears, but she refused to let them fall. She couldn’t be the vulnerable one, not again.

Drew’s breath hitched, and he froze mid-step, finally turning to face her, his blue eyes wide with a mix of surprise and confusion. “What do you mean? I’ve been trying to be here. I’ve been doing my best…”

“No, Drew,” she whispered, her voice breaking despite her best efforts. “You weren’t there when I was drowning. When everything became too much, and I needed you…you weren’t there.”

His eyes flickered with recognition as the words sank in. There had been times more times than he cared to admit where he’d missed important moments. Her bad days, the nights she cried herself to sleep. The phone calls he promised to return but never did. The breakdown she had when her world felt like it was crumbling, and he was miles away filming, unable to drop everything for her.

Drew took a step toward her, but she shook her head, stepping back, creating a space between them that felt like miles.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice low, pained. He looked so much like the Drew she fell in love with in this moment, vulnerable, raw, broken in his own way. But it wasn’t enough. Not anymore.

“I needed you,” she repeated, her voice steady now, even if the cracks still showed. “I wasn’t asking you to stop everything. I just wanted you to see me. To notice when I wasn’t okay. To be there, even when it was hard.”

“I know,” Drew said, swallowing hard as he stepped closer again, desperation in his eyes. “I know I messed up. I…I didn’t realize. I was so wrapped up in everything, and I thought…I thought you’d understand.”

She laughed bitterly, the sound foreign in the tense room. “That’s the problem, Drew. I did understand. I understood everything. I made excuses for you. I kept waiting, and hoping, and forgiving. But when it came down to it…you weren’t there.”

The words felt final, and they hung between them like an open wound. Drew’s chest rose and fell as he tried to breathe through the weight of her truth. His eyes searched hers, pleading for forgiveness, for some sign that they could still fix this. But he saw it. He saw the hurt that had festered for too long, and he knew.

“I love you,” he whispered, voice broken, as though that could be enough.

Y/N smiled sadly, her hand dropping to her side as she met his gaze, her eyes filled with tears she couldn’t hold back anymore. “I love you too, Drew. But love isn’t always enough.”

For the first time, Drew’s heart shattered. He reached for her, but this time, Y/N didn’t move closer. She took a step back, her heart breaking as she turned away from him, leaving the man she thought she’d spend forever with standing in the darkened room, alone.

The rain continued to fall outside, but inside, it was quiet once again. The silence that used to be comforting now felt like an unbearable weight one that neither of them could carry anymore.

And for the first time, Drew Starkey realized the cost of not being there when it mattered most.

Drew stood there, frozen in place as the sound of the front door clicked shut behind her. The rain outside pounded harder against the windows, almost as if it mirrored the storm inside his chest. He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying to suppress the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. But it was no use.

The empty silence that followed her departure was louder than any argument they’d ever had. It echoed in the space around him, filling the gaps she left behind. His hands dropped to his sides as he stared at the door, half-expecting her to come back, to burst through and tell him this was all just a terrible dream.

But she didn’t.

Drew stumbled toward the couch, collapsing into it, burying his face in his hands. His mind raced, replaying every moment, every argument, every missed call. How had he let it get this bad? How had he been so blind?

She’d been there for him through everything the chaos of his career, the nights when he was too exhausted to hold a conversation, the days when he was so wrapped up in his work that he forgot to check in. Y/N had been the constant in his life, the only thing that felt real amidst the madness. But he hadn’t been there for her. Not in the way she needed. And now, he wasn’t sure he ever could be.

Drew could still see the pain in her eyes when she said those words “You weren’t there when I needed you most.” They cut deeper than anything anyone had ever said to him. She had been his rock, and he’d taken her for granted. He thought she would always understand, always wait. But love wasn’t a one-way street, and he’d driven her away without realizing it.

A wave of nausea rolled through him, and he leaned forward, gripping the edge of the couch. He needed to do something anything to make this right. But as the minutes ticked by, he couldn’t think of a single way to fix what had broken between them. The damage was already done. And the worst part? He knew that no apology, no grand gesture could erase the moments he missed. The moments when she’d needed him to be there, and he wasn’t.

Y/N walked down the rain soaked streets, her heart heavy with every step she took away from the man she had once thought she’d spend her life with. The cool air clung to her skin, mixing with the tears she hadn’t realized were falling. She pulled her coat tighter around her, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop the ache in her chest.

She hadn’t wanted it to end like this. In her wildest dreams, she’d never imagined that walking away from Drew would be the hardest thing she’d ever have to do. But somewhere along the way, she’d lost herself in loving him. In waiting for him. In hoping that one day, he’d realize she needed more than his love from afar.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she knew it was him before she even looked. Drew had already called twice, sent a text, but she couldn’t bear to answer. Not now. The pain was too raw, too fresh. She needed space, time to breathe, to think without the weight of his presence pressing on her heart.

She sat down on a bench under the cover of an old awning, watching the rain dance on the pavement. Her mind wandered back to the beginning, to the early days of their relationship when everything had felt so easy, so right. Drew was charming, sweet, and full of passion everything she had fallen for. But as his career skyrocketed, she started to feel like a shadow, always there, but never truly seen.

She loved him. She probably always would. But love wasn’t enough to fill the empty spaces that had grown between them. Love couldn’t erase the nights she spent crying alone, or the times she needed him and found herself staring at her phone, hoping for a call that never came.

Her phone buzzed again, and this time, she glanced at the screen.

Drew Please. I’m sorry. I need to see you.

Y/N’s thumb hovered over the reply button, her heart aching with the familiar pull she felt whenever she thought of him. She could feel his pain in those words, and a part of her wanted to turn around, to go back and try to fix things. But another part of her the part that had been hurt too many times held her back.

It was a cycle, one that had been repeating for too long. She would forgive, they’d fall back into each other’s arms, and then, eventually, he’d drift away again. And she couldn’t do it anymore. She couldn’t keep sacrificing her own happiness for the hope that things would change.

She needed to break free. Not because she didn’t love him, but because she finally realized she needed to love herself more.

Drew sat in the darkened living room, staring blankly at the text message he had just sent. His hand shook as he held the phone, waiting for a reply that he knew deep down might never come. He could feel her slipping further away with every second that passed.

He stood abruptly, pacing the room again as frustration and fear gnawed at him. His mind raced with memories of her, the way she laughed, the warmth of her touch, the comfort of her presence. He couldn’t lose her. Not like this.

In a moment of desperation, he grabbed his jacket and bolted out the door. The rain poured down in sheets as he ran through the streets, his heart pounding in his chest. He had to find her. He had to tell her how much she meant to him, how sorry he was for all the ways he’d failed her.

But when he reached her apartment building, he stopped, drenched and out of breath. He stared up at the windows, knowing she was up there, somewhere. He wanted to go inside, to beg her for another chance. But instead, he stood there, feeling the weight of everything he had lost.

Because he knew…sometimes, even love couldn’t fix what was already broken.

Drew stood in the rain, his chest heaving as he stared up at the lit window that once felt like home. Every fiber of his being wanted to run inside, to fight for her, to make her see how sorry he was. But he also knew that words weren’t enough. Not anymore. He had spent so much time being distant, so much time putting his career first, that he’d missed the most important thing: her.

Y/N was inside, no doubt trying to make sense of everything, just as he was. But Drew understood now no matter how much he loved her, she couldn’t keep picking up the pieces of their broken relationship alone.

As the rain soaked through his clothes, he felt something break inside him. Maybe it was the realization that she might never come back. Or maybe it was the weight of knowing that he had pushed her to this point. But whatever it was, it left him hollow.

Suddenly, the door to the building creaked open, and Y/N stepped out, her eyes locking on Drew as if she had been expecting him. She hesitated for a moment, her face a mix of sadness and resolve.

“You’re here,” she said softly, her voice barely audible over the rain.

Drew swallowed, taking a hesitant step forward. “I…I had to see you.” His voice cracked with desperation. “I needed you to know how sorry I am.”

Y/N nodded, wrapping her arms around herself as she stepped out from under the awning, the rain clinging to her skin. “I know you’re sorry, Drew. But I don’t think an apology can fix this anymore.”

He flinched at her words, his heart breaking all over again. “I love you, Y/N. I’ve always loved you. I just…I didn’t know how to balance it all. I thought…I thought you’d always be there, no matter what.”

Tears welled up in her eyes as she shook her head, her voice shaking. “That’s just it. I was always there, Drew. But I needed you, too. And you weren’t. Not when it really mattered.”

Drew’s throat tightened as he watched the pain play out across her face. “I know. I know I messed up. But can’t we can’t we try again? Please? I’ll be better this time, I swear.”

Y/N looked down at the ground, her tears mixing with the rain as they fell. She let out a shaky breath, lifting her eyes to meet his once more. “I can’t keep doing this, Drew. I’ve been holding on to the hope that things would change for too long. But every time, I’m the one who ends up hurting.”

The rawness in her voice shattered what little hope he had left. Drew felt his knees weaken, his voice breaking as he tried one last time. “I’ll change. I’ll make it right. Just…don’t go. Please.”

For a long moment, Y/N just stood there, watching him, her heart aching as she took in the sight of the man she loved the man she had always loved, but could no longer save. She stepped forward, her hand reaching up to gently touch his cheek, her thumb wiping away a stray raindrop or was it a tear?

“I love you, Drew. But this time, I need to choose me.” Her voice cracked on the last word, and her touch lingered for a moment longer before she pulled away.

Drew felt his heart drop into the pit of his stomach as he realized that this was it, this was the moment he’d feared for so long. The moment where his mistakes had finally caught up to him, and there was nothing left he could say to fix it.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered again, her voice barely audible over the rain. Then, with one final glance, Y/N turned and walked away, her footsteps fading into the night.

Drew watched her go, the world around him spinning in slow motion as the weight of her absence settled over him like a lead blanket. He had always thought he had time. Time to make it right, time to fix the broken pieces of their relationship. But now, standing alone in the rain, he understood the harsh truth:

Sometimes, love isn’t enough to keep someone from walking away.

And sometimes, the hardest part is realizing that when they needed you most, you weren’t there.

As Y/N disappeared into the city streets, Drew whispered into the night, knowing it was too late for her to hear him:

“I’m sorry. I should’ve been there.”

But the rain kept falling, and she was gone.

[dustyrkives]

Venom and Velvet

PAIRING: Ada Wong x fem reader

WARNINGS: Damnation Ada, president r, profanity, older Ada, age-difference (Ada is 37 while r is 32), this is my own spinoff so... anyways, idk anything abt government positions or the hierarchy of authority so please bear with me, political intrigue, deception, manipulation, tension, dubious morality, power-struggle, mutual obsession, E2L, slight degradation, hard dom Ada, praise, fingering, manhandling, oral fixation, unprotected sex, GP Ada because I said so! Orgasm control, possessive Ada, dirty talk and that's about it me thinks.

SYNOPSIS: When a deadly outbreak threatens your country, you turn to BSAA agent for help��but something about her feels off. The more you rely on her, the more you suspect she’s manipulating you, until the truth hits harder than you ever expected. Now, cornered and outplayed, you realize too late—you were never in control.

PS: I chose to be fucked as president, anyways enjoy!

MEN DNI

You knew that woman was trouble when your Secretary of Defense suggested her expertise for your country's... peculiar situation.

Perhaps it’s the air around her—swirling with mystery, allure, and danger. Her sharp, inquisitive, and intelligent eyes that somehow always on you, watching your expression; anticipating your reaction.

And her voice—confident, juxtaposing and deceivingly gentle.

There's just something–off about her, and you should've followed your gut instincts the moment she had you cornered, trapping you against her–her arms caged your sides as sharp, dark brown eyes piercing yours as she looks down at you with that signature blasted smirk of hers.

Ada Wong–or is that even her real name?

She came into your homeland with the promise of answers to the rampant infection spreading in one of your towns–the disease started two weeks ago when one of the locals bit a vendor, then shit hit the fan. You had to put the town and its neighboring area under quarantine to keep your people safe.

You've heard cases like these dating back decades–the Raccoon City incident was the most known. Your council thought it was best to keep the information about the town's state a secret from the others–it was a difficult decision, and one that you're sure will be faced with backlash. But you don't have a choice–it has to be contained before others find out the barbaric nature of the infection and make the other curious to what extent of power it holds.

Of course, not many people adhere to your decision–hence, the political unrest and whispers of resistance from the neighboring towns form arms against you.

And now, you have to deal with a virus and rebels.

Until your Secretary of Defense made a private audience with you and gave your country the answer to your problem. He said that the woman is from the BSAA: Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance. An agent wearing a pinstripe dress suit with a red shirt for her inner suit jacket. Somber makeup, a careful face and a guarded mouth.

"Wonderful," Or so you thought. She did as expected of her–to give information and provide aid on how to stop the virus: killing the infected, being very cautious for any sign of infections from the survivors, and placing them in quarantine.

Ada also helped you distract the public and have them approve of your legislation, but why do you have a strange feeling lingering in your gut about the agent? For every meeting, you'd catch her keeping a keen eye on you as if she knew what to say and what you wanted to hear–your reactions, expressions... you name it.

It was...strange

Or perhaps it's been a long time since you had someone as competent as her in your office?

It feels as though she's become attuned to you–and you to her.

And then, the unthinkable happened.

You refused to believe it. You refused to acknowledge and dwell on it.

But–oh, human desire is such a damning thing. From intentional mishaps such as brushing contact to the heat in her eyes, the way her voice would go an octave lower when speaking to you–it was unbecoming.

You know that she's aware of what she's doing.

Oh, how your heart sears at your helplessness against the older woman. The agent.

That's why one night, you ordered one of your men to follow her, to find out about her activities and see what she's hiding–and at the same time, hired a private detective about this woman's past and contact the BSAA under the guise of misconduct.

And oh, were you in for a surprise.

She isn't a BSAA agent. Before an informant can expound his findings, you thank him for his services and end the call. That single information is everything you needed to know–you needed to grasp.

Confront her and put an end to this.

Then why are you pinned against her on your desk?

"You made me look like a fool," You seethe through gritted teeth as you glower at her, legs trembling and pulse quickening under her confident and mocking gaze. She chuckles deeply–your stomach churns as warmth pools in between your legs.

"Oh, madam president," She leans down, "The fool here, is you." Her arms snake around your waist, pulling you flush against her, elusive yet unforgettable scent fills your senses–coaxing you to submit to her.

Your breath hitches at the sudden action as she continues. "I was just waiting for you to realize it."

"Why not flee?" You struggle against her grip, "You had what you wanted. Why not run away?"

Ada's chest reverberates with a hum, "And leave you?"

Your organs constrict. She'll leave you?

The voice at the back of your head begged: no!

A soft whimper rips from your lips as the older woman's knuckles brush gently against your cheek.

"We both know that's not what you want." The short-haired woman coos before pressing a kiss against the corner of your lips, and your brain goes haywire. "And it's not what I want, either." Her warm breath fans against the side of your face before pulling away with an–oh, so alluring smile.

"W-why?" You stammer, hands pressing against her neatly pressed suit, and the latter purrs in delight. "Oh, don't play coy." Ada chides as her other hand grasps the back of your head and gently tug it back; exposing your neck for her.

"You know why..."

The tips of her lips brushed against your skin, and your knees buckled when she pressed a kiss on the center of your neck.

Damn this woman.

"But since you insist on being clueless, I'll tell you." Ada surges forward, and you let out a pitiful squeak as your back slams against the tabletop, the spy hovering above you. "Shall I begin by reminding you of your response to my subtle advances?" She grins devilishly as her hand caresses the back of your thigh and lifts it. "The way you'd flush whenever I caught you staring?"

"You're simply too entertaining to leave."

Your skin prickles as her voice drops an octave lower. "I'd thought you'd remain composed, but you blushed like a whore." She hisses, "In front of the senate, really?" Ada muses as she unzips your pencil skirt, letting it fall unceremoniously on the floor, and her index finger doesn't waste time hooking itself onto the hem of your panties.

Your pussy is exposed out in the open.

"Is this who you are, hm?" The short-haired woman coos and slides your underwear off of your smooth legs–you didn't hesitate to accommodate her, desire bristling as she latches her lips onto your neck, sinking her teeth, eliciting a mewl from you while your hands latch onto her back, crumpling her top.

Her hands pry your legs open while her clothed bulge pokes your cunt.

Ada growls softly as her lips traverse to your mouth, lips molding against hers as her hands make quick work of unfastening her belt, unzipping her pants and letting her cock spring out from its tight contraptions, rubbing her shaft against yours.

Your moans are muffled by her kiss, with her other hand loosening your blouse and groping your right boob, your legs instinctively circle around her waist and grind against her.

"Uh–ah, sweetheart," Ada warns as she leans away and unfastens the buttons of her suit, allowing you to only see the deep cleavage and a peek at her toned stomach. Her alabaster skin is exposed to your eyes only.

She looms above you again, her hands supporting her weight with the other one without hesitation penetrating your folds, you bite back an embarrassingly loud moan as she quickly drills her fingers back and forth, sweat dripped from her forehead down to her chin, trickling down in your cheek as you walls clamp around her well-manicured fingers, her cock throbs and twitches, wanting to be inside you too.

"Moan for me," She growls, "Let the people on this entire floor know who's fucking the president."

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as she rubs your walls, "Come on now, baby. Don't be shy, your pussy's taking me so well."

God, this is so unbecoming.

You obey the older girl; letting your moans spill from your lips and making her smirk in pride as she grinds her hips to relieve herself from finishing at the sight.

"Good girl," Ada purrs and leans down, licking the shell of your ear, your back arches at the possessive undertone of her declaration. "My good girl."

You preen on her praise as she fastens her finger's pace, toes curling, stomach-twisting and eyes snapping shut as pleasure takes over you. Ada chuckled darkly as sweat thinly veils your skin; she flatly presses her tongue against your neck, it makes you feel tainted as she drags her tongue to your chin and finally inside your mouth, greedily swallowing your cries as the desk creaks.

Your hands scramble to her nape, opting to pull her closer as your legs and ankles lock around her slim waist, Ada groans at your neediness as she plunges and curls her finger alternating it, desperate to bring you to your undoing. Your stomach now tightens as your walls clamp around her fingers vehemently, signaling her as your arousal drips from your squelching heat. Ada breaks the kiss and bites your shoulder, your cunt convulses and—

Ada withdraws her fingers, making you thrash and whine at the loss of contact.

The agent's lips twitched to a dark smirk as she brings her fingers to her mouth and licks it clean, before deciding to wrap her tongue around her fingers and suck it dry.

Your chest heaves up and down as you resist the urge of letting tears of frustration roll down your face.

The woman above you takes pity at your predicament and sighed and withdraws her fingers from her mouth with a loud 'pop'.

"Open your mouth baby," She commands, eyes urging you to obey. Without hesitation, she inserts her fingers inside your mouth, your tongue immediately wraps around her coated digits as your arousal mixed with her saliva coats your lips

"That's it. Suck it clean, slut."

Desire once again ignites within you as she pulls her fingers away and inserts them inside her mouth. Her other hand lowers her trousers while precum leaks from her soft pink tip after being neglected. Dark brown eyes trained on your empty cunt just waiting to be stuffed by her.

Greed and lust spread like wildfire with her cock now throbbing painfully hard, there was no more time for foreplay, not now at least.

With her right hand, she strokes her cock before pushing it all in, you audibly gasp as her veins rub deliciously against your walls, the older woman shamelessly moans as her hips begin to pump back and forth, and your head falls back atop the table, letting Ada see the stiff muscles your neck move–she bristles in lust and animalistic desire as she slams her hips.

Your nails scrape against her clothed back as ecstasy shoots through your body again. Her dick fills you to the brim as she pistons her hips. Your lips latch onto her jaw, neck, and sometimes behind her ear to distract yourself from making too much noise.

Ada's hands grab the top end of the table with a death grip as both your pussy and her length throb. Sweat drips from all pores of her skin as she fastens her pace, her lips leaving marks and kisses on your skin as she angles her hips, elaborating her thrusts; you moan helplessly, eyes rolling back as she fucks you into the furniture.

"That's it," The spy grunts, her bangs sticking on her forehead, dripping with sweat. Your hands pull her by the nape, keeping her close. "You're such a good girl for me," Ada huffs and supports her weight using her arms, "Letting me fuck you like this, letting me ruin you like the whore you are."

An animalistic growl vibrates on her chest and presses a kiss on your forehead. You're too fucked-out to pay heed to the filthy sound of skin-slapping echo in the room. Until a lecherous moan rips from Ada's lips, your walls clamp shamelessly around her while the woman on top of you pounds with all her might before cumming unannounced, shooting thick spurts of cum inside your eager walls, forcing an orgasm out of you as your mouth morphs to an 'o' while you milk around her cock.

The older woman shudders as she sees your mixed fluids leak from your folds, her cock twitches and thrusts harder, spraying cum all over the desk and she doesn't stop, no matter how loud your whine and whimper–she won't.

You feel too good to stop.

Ada jogs her hips, oh–she has this urge to break you. The desk creaks, threatening to break beneath your sinful deeds. She bites her lower lip, eyes drinking the sight of you: messy, unkempt, and smell of both perfume and sweat. Her dark eyes watch in amazement and carnal delight as your breast move with each vulgar thrust.

"Look at you," She moans softly, "Such a pliant little slut for me–letting me stuff my cum in you."

"Want me to cum inside you again?" Ada pants as she grabs your thighs, folding you into a mating press, "Want me to make you my bitch?"

You mewl at the suggestion as she continues, "Should I stuff you with my cum and make you feel me drip while you sign your fucking documents?"

Your moans turn to pathetic sobs as her pace turns sloppy. "A-Ada–fuck, too much please–"

"Take it." She commands with a deep tone. "A good slut like you will take my cum, so be a good girl for me and let go, unless you're not my good girl, hm?"

You sob as your legs quiver, the desk's hinges creak and protest while the tip of her cock taps and pokes your cervix, almost making you scream while your hand grips her lithe arms for leverage while you feel like breaking.

Ada's name leaves your mouth like a sinful mantra, hands grabbing her locks, eliciting a hiss from her as your stomach tightens again.

"You're. Mine." She grunts with each thrust. "This-thrust-pussy-thrust-belongs-thrust-to-thrust-me-."

"Ada, I'm going to cum!"

"You are?" She mocks, "Go ahead, baby."

The knot inside your stomach snaps as Ada's teeth sink into the juncture of your neck as you cum again, breath practically knocked out of your lungs. Ada plummets her cock as deep as your walls allow; her hot, thick ropes of semen spill inside you, filling your stuffed womb with another batch of her potent seed while the excess drips down to your ass and onto the tabletop.

You couldn't stop the mewls and whimpers leaving your lips, your walls battered, stuffed, and claimed.

Ada takes her phone with a smirk and captures a photo of your scandalous state. You weakly reach for her hand, begging for her to stop but the former doesn't care.

"Don't worry," A vile grin graces her flustered yet still beautiful features.

"I'll make sure it's for my eyes only."