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hurlingdown · 6 months ago

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WITH MY HANDS AROUND YOUR THROAT — TOP MALE READER X SUKUNA

synopsis. taming the king of curses is one thing. making him beg is another. since it's either fuck him good or get your throat slit anyway, why not take a gamble and achieve both? wc. 2.6k

tags. sub! sukuna, soft dom!reader. can be read as cock or strap. brat taming, choking, begging, hair-pulling, belly bulge, heavy praise kink, pet names (good boy, sweetheart), porn with feelings, this turned out way more intimate than i intended it to be

His back arched away from your chest as you slowly pushed your cock inside him, stretching him wide open. You could feel his every ragged breath from the hand you wrapped around his throat, silent for once, and you knew he was eager.

“Good fuckin’ boy, Sukuna,” you muttered lowly into his ear.

You barely heard the warning growl. He turned his head abruptly, teeth snapping together in an attempt to bite as you jerked away, barking out a startled laugh.

“Aw, that was cute.” And as though the bite wouldn’t have torn flesh, wouldn’t have scarred your face for life, you smiled down at his scowling face like it was a pretty thing.

“I am not your pet,” Sukuna snarled, and he sounded angry, something akin to a wounded animal. You hummed non-committedly, continuing to push until you were snugly seated inside him. “Fuck—the n-next time you call me that, I will bite something more than your face.”

“How tempting.” Despite his threats, his legs were trembling with effort to hold himself up, and he pressed his throat into the cup of your hand, willingly submitting to your touch. You squeezed lightly, just enough to press into his windpipe, and watched as all four of his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

It was funny, really, how he was using violence to disguise what a whore he really was. You counted to five before you let go.

Apparently, you stopped too early for his liking. He was panting, his glare wet with tears, biting down a moan with bared teeth as the fat tip of your cock caught on his rim before easing in again. You were moving at a lumbering pace, deep and hard inside him but too fucking slow and rubbing at all the wrong places.

He was growing frustrated by the second, and he finally barked, “Get on with it or I’ll kill you! Do you want to fuck me or not?”

“I am fucking you, Sukuna.”

“Not like this! Fuck—fuck you!” he half-hissed, half-whined, nails digging into the soft mattress. ‘More’ and ‘faster’ were on the tip of his tongue, but he took pride in his title of the King of Curses, and naturally his ego kept his mouth sealed shut. “Do really think I will hesitate to kill you just because I let you inside me? Are you that much of a fool?”

“Nah,” you replied nonchalantly, rolling your hips inside him to jolt out a startled moan. “You can kill me, but I don’t feel like catering to you today.”

His words exploded into a string of expletives as he slammed his hips against you, shuddering as it only dug deeper, missing his sweet spot by far.

Sukuna wanted to scream.

Hand sliding up from his throat to firmly seize his jaw, you turned his face to meet you. “D’you need a reminder, sweetheart?” Your fingers dug into his cheek, taking extra precaution in making sure he wouldn't suddenly rear up and bite you.

You needn’t have worried, though. He was way too desperate to care about the pet name or comprehend your question at that point, and he bucked his hips impatiently against yours, letting out a displeased growl. “What? J-just fucking fuck me already, brat.”

You ignored him, continuing to move into him at a languid pace. “If I just give you the reward every time you ask, you’ll turn spoiled. How about you show me that you’ve earned it first, mm?”

“What,” he lets out a shudder, breath bordering on a sob because why couldn’t you just give him what he wanted? He was so good for you, all patient despite his arousal, waiting for you to take him like you had promised, and yet you were being so mean and unfair to him. “What do you fucking want from me? You are just—fuuuckk, you are just human—so fucking weak, comparable to an insect! What makes you think you have the right to demand that of me? I am your king.”

He wanted to rip that smirk right off your face, punch your pretty face in. Dine in your blood. You didn’t deserve him.

“I don’t have any right, I know,” you agreed, “but you aren’t entitled to everything, either.”

“Your ways of insinuation are pathetic—”

It hit him then, like a thunderbolt splitting the earth apart, and he gave a violent shudder.

The past twenty minutes had not been for nothing. You weren’t just toying around with him. You wanted him to see him crumble from his want for you. You wanted to hear him beg for it.

“No,” he gasped, shaking his head wildly. “No, fuck you. I am not going to beg.”

You felt a sadistic smile creep onto your face. Seeing him deviating from his usual cocky self, now a babbling, incoherent mess, gave you a strange sort of pleasure. “I didn’t ask you to beg, though, did I? But now that you mention it…”

You wanted to break him.

Not that he wasn’t breaking already.

Sukuna was trembling with the effort of not giving in, sharp teeth digging into his bottom lip so hard it tore through skin. Blood trickled down one side of his chin, and you wanted to lick it up.

“I am your king,” he repeated, a tremor in his voice betraying his want. “You offer to me. I do not beg.”

“Well, king, you’re holding up all the fun,” you taunted, voice sickly sweet. “Don’t you wanna be a good boy for me?”

He shook his head again, this time with less force. Tears were welling up in his eyes again, and he didn’t even bother to blink them away, too occupied otherwise. They dotted on his lashes, threatening to spill. Where were his promises of ‘biting something more than your face’? What a little liar.

“I’ll make you feel so good you’ll be feeling it for days,” you purred into his ear, “in exchange for one word. That’s all I’m asking for. You can do that, can’t you, sweetheart?”

You watched in triumph as his eyebrows furrowed, as though carefully contemplating his answer. It was far too generous of an offer—he would be a fool to refuse. You made sure he knew that. Just one more little push, and he would topple over the edge and become putty in your hands. One more push.

Kissing your way down his spine to plaster yourself to his back, you reached a hand down his abdomen with your free hand, pressing into it where your cock rested within him. It was too much, and you knew it. You were heavy and thick inside him, filling up every inch of his tummy, and he hadn’t stopped clenching around your girth since the first time you pushed it in. Then you moved your hand, feeling him up until you found the thing you were looking for.

You heard his breath hitch.

Beneath your fingers was an obscene swelling high up in his abdomen, protruding from the hard lines of his stomach. A bulge that made for clear evidence that his insides were carving out a space for you. You should have known there was no way it would fit so innately. No matter how disagreeable his personality was, his body was so good for you, as always.

You gave the bulge a little squeeze, and Sukuna let out a choked whine, mouth gaping as though trying to form words.

You pressed yourself to his back, kissing his shoulder. “What is it?”

He shook his head, continuing to whine softly, no longer as petulant as he was desperate. You were almost afraid you had broken him.

You decided to take one more step. Flattening your palm on the bulge, you carefully pressed it back into his stomach. “What do you want, Sukuna?” you whispered. “I’ll give you everything you want.”

He tipped his head back to glare at you with the corner of his eye, tears rolling down his cheeks. “Give me more,” he gritted out, helpless. “Please.”

Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?

Without warning, you pulled back and rammed yourself into him in one go, angling your hips to pound right into his sweet spot, making him cry out in surprise. “W-wait, wait, ahh!” he screamed, the hand on his neck forcing him to stay in place. “Slow down, ‘s too much—”

You continued to slam your hips against him, hitting his prostate with every sharp thrust, drinking in his whines and complaints and ignoring all of them. “You’re so good, so fuckin’ good, Sukuna.”

He whined loudly in response, hands grasping for purchase on the sheets as you railed him into oblivion. “Not good, no,” he sobbed, shaking his head, his protests falling on deaf ears. “Bastard, slow down…”

You let go of his throat to grab the back of his neck, shoving his face roughly into the mattress as he cried out. “Fuck, how do you feel so good?” you muttered mindlessly, taking more rapture in looking at his pleasure-addled expression (eyes squeezed shut, drooling onto the bed, moaning loud and clearly in ecstasy) than the fact that you were inside him. “I could do this all day long, y’know?”

The tip of his erection grazed against the sheets with every thrust, and he wanted nothing more than to grab it and jerk off to your pace, but you kept his hands so busy, either trying to knock off his balance or brutally pound his entire body into the bed.

“Ah, ah, sh-shut up! Keep talking and—I’ll twist your head off!” he threatened with a whine, desperate, but you continued to talk, embarrassing him further.

“Look at you,” you cooed, “you were making a fuss earlier, and look at you now, taking me so well. Fuck. You look like you’re made for this, Sukuna. Made for taking my cock.”

He seized up at that, hole clenching around your girth obscenely, making your pace stutter.

“What was that?” you laughed. “Was that a turn on? You’re too cute, really.”

Sukuna tried to morph his face into a look of disgust, but all he succeeded in doing was have his eyebrows pinched up in a look that resembled pure bliss more than anything. At some point he gave up struggling, arms going slack as he allowed you to pull him back against your cock by the hips, fucking him onto your lap as lewd ‘ah, ah, ah’s escaped his lips.

You were pounding into him like an animal, treating him like one, and yet your pathetic, ingratiating words never failed to make his heart cramp up with a strange sensation, heat spreading from his face to the tips of his ears and down his chest, painting him a pretty red.

You were just another lowly human, he reminded himself, someone to fuck and forget, but at the moment Sukuna found himself wishing to get lost in the stars that erupted around the edges of his vision every time you hit his prostate, found himself wanting a second time, even if the first hadn’t ended yet. You drove him insane, and he loathed how good it made him feel.

“Brat,” he heard his own voice, wrecked by how much noise he had been making, and you leaned forward to kiss his spine, letting him know you heard him.

“What?” you murmured as he didn’t continue, slowing down your thrusts. “D’you need something? Does it hurt?” He bristled at how tender your words were, how you acted like you cared about a bloodthirsty curse like him.

“Did I give you permission to stop?” He pushed his hips back against you with a growl, forcing you to pick up your pace. “Just wanta let you know—after this. You’ve got—hnngh, ahh, fuuuck! Nowhere to run. So don’t even think about i-it.”

You blinked, equal parts amused and perplexed by his sudden threat. You dared not stop, though, even as he started to pant and whine heavily into the mattress, body shuddering with the gradual approach of an orgasm. “I’m not going to run from you, Sukuna. Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Why would you run, when he was right under you, pliant and wanting for you to satisfy him? Did he not understand how much you’ve yearned for this?

“Good choice,” he moaned, “don’t you dare fucking stop until you make me cum.”

You sped up your thrusts, snaking a hand back onto his neck and up to fist into his hair, wrenching his head up to smother him with a filthy kiss. It was rough, and more teeth than tongue, and at some point you could taste the sharp tang of blood from the cut in his lip earlier. You lapped it up along with the saliva that trickled down his chin, hearing him let out a needy whine.

“So close, ah—so damn close, please, please, fucking please—” he begged shamelessly between loud moans, stripping himself naked of all dignity as he spent the last of his energy to bend his back into a vile arch, pressing his ass against your crotch as you slammed yourself into his swollen sweet spot in one powerful thrust.

A scream ripped from his throat and he came untouched, staining the bed with white, at the same time clamping down on you so hard you jerked to a sudden stop. You collapsed onto his back, panting loudly as you tried to catch your breath.

“Fuck,” you groaned. “You okay?”

He refused to respond, keeping his face buried in the mattress. You took the opportunity to pull out, hearing him let out a soft whine, cold and aching and suddenly empty.

“Fuck you,” you heard him mutter.

That was good. He was still alive.

You slumped down onto the bed next to him, kissing his shoulder to try and get him to turn, and he raised a shaky hand to flip you off, mumbling something you assumed was a profanity.

Biting down a grin at how utterly adorable he was being, you found yourself overwhelmed by a sudden rush of affection.

“What, are you shy?” you teased. “Don’t be.”

He scoffed, the tips of his ears reddening. “Brat, I am not shy.”

He didn’t have any reason to be shy. Not to you. After all, you had long mapped out every inch of his body, from his prominent features to his most vulnerable. Made him want to bare his throat for you to make him feel good.

But nothing could have prepared you for the way Sukuna slowly flipped himself onto his back, levelling you with a sleepy, half-lidded gaze instead of his usual hard glare, muttering something under his breath. He watched you quietly, placing his hand next to yours on the bed, the position far too intimate for your comfort.

“Hey,” you blurted out, feeling your heart skip a beat. You knew you were risking everything, and that he could kill you in the blink of an eye, but you couldn’t stop the next words from coming out. “You were really good today.”

Good.

Sukuna had been called many things in his life before, but ‘good’ was not one of them. Good men did not dirty their hands with the blood of the innocent for fun. Good men did not sit on a mountain of bones and call themselves a king. Good men did not grow six arms and four eyes and look like monsters, and Sukuna was a monster himself.

There was a long, awkward pause, and his eyes were wide with a look you couldn’t decipher—one of disgust or mockery, maybe, and you were already regretting it. But to your utmost surprise, it started with a light blush dusted high on his cheekbones, before it bloomed into a dark red that spread across his face. The corners of his lips twitched, and then lifted, ever so slightly. He immediately fought to replace it with a scowl, but you had already seen it.

He had smiled. Sukuna had smiled at you. A genuine, almost soft smile, as though he cherished the way you told him he was good, had longed to hear it for centuries of living.

“Quit smiling, brat,” he huffed, but his voice lacked any real venom, more exhausted and content than anything, and made no refusal when you leaned in to kiss him.

Sukuna would later realise that he was neither good nor man, but if you were ever so willing to embrace a curse like him, he supposed he could be good to you, for you. masterlist! # and here’s to introducing me and my delusions to the jjk fandom… also i feel like my tags r getting a lil repetitive lol

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jaewritesfic · 4 months ago

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Melon!AU Part 2

If it had been anyone but Cass to suggest it, Bruce is certain that both Damian and Tim would have responded with an immediate and vehement, Are you insane?!

But it is Cass. It's Cass, so Damian makes a choked sound and bites out, “Help. The Pit Demon?”

Similarly, Tim chokes out, “I don't know about that one, Black Bat. I mean- it's- it looks-”

“Judging books?” Cass asks through comms, a gentle disapproval in her tone that rivals Alfred’s in effectiveness. Bruce himself feels a little cowed by it.

Diplomacy had not, after all, been on his mind before his daughter spoke up.

He should know better than to make assumptions, especially if she's right and the creature isn't as hostile as it seems.

That's still a very big if.

“Commissioner,” Bruce says lowly, turning his head. Gordon is lingering near the roof access stairway, having come up to brief them but seeming reluctant to even look down on the creature in the alley. “Have there been any casualties? Injuries?”

Jim falters, uncharacteristically rattled. Bruce can't blame him - there's a low level dread and an unsettling feeling just being in the same vicinity as the creature, and that's as a seasoned vigilante. Someone who faces death down regularly.

“Uh. No. No, it uh- it took some swipes at people who got too close, but it didn't connect. We backed off pretty fast and called you as soon as possible.”

Bruce blinks. “Not even any blood drawn?”

Gordon shakes his head. “Damn miracle. The thing is fast and those claws are vicious.”

He hears Cass hum into the comms, and he understands exactly why.

The thing in the alley is built to do damage. He has his doubts it was any kind of miracle that made it ‘miss’ any of the swipes it took.

Trying to scare them off indeed.

“Black Bat. What exactly are you reading off the creature?”

“Looking for exits. Desperate. Overwhelmed.”

Bruce hums. “Being cornered and desperate will make anyone or anything dangerous. We need to proceed carefully here. Even if it doesn't want to hurt anyone, that doesn't mean it won't if it thinks it has no other-”

The shadow that is Cass shifts in his periphery, and he looks up to the opposite roof just in time to bark, “Do not-!” as Cass steps off the roof and flips down into the alley.

Why are his kids so determined to give him a stroke?

Dick vaults up over the edge of the roof to join he and Tim, saying, “I'm here, what's-”

He cuts off and claps his hands over his ears with everyone else when the creature shrieks at Black Bat's unexpected arrival.

“Black Bat,” Bruce grits out, heart in his throat as he peers over the edge with ringing ears. “Retreat back to the rooftops now.”

One tap to the comm. No.

Bruce grits his teeth, fighting not to show his anxiety. It's not like Cass to refuse orders. Hell, he can't remember her ever disobeying an order in the field so blatantly.

The low warning noise the creature is making now is almost as bad as the shriek. Something about it sets off every alarm bell in his brain, like it was never meant to be heard by human ears. Almost a growl, almost a moan, something celestial and unfathomable.

Cass doesn't back up or get any closer. She raises a hand slowly in a little wave and says, “Hello.”

If it were possible to startle a fax machine, it would probably sound like the creature does as it jerks and snaps its mouth shut in surprise, lamplight eyes going huge and round.

Masterpost

#melon!au #dp x dc #creepy danny phantom #eldritch danny #cassandra cain #batfam #jaewritesfic

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etfrin · 11 months ago

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❝ ִִִִִִִִִִִִִֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶָָָָָָָָָָָָָ higher with my lover — coriolanus snow ִִִִִִִִִִִִִֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶֶָָָָָָָָָָָָָ ❞

☆　Warning: NSFW | Snow is his own warning, pinv sex, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), riding, handjob, mentions of blood & blood sucking, Capitol! Reader, reader is mentioned to be a virgin, mentions of poison and death, district+lucy gray slander (necessary to the plot), mention of Sejanus, degradation & praise kink if you squint, dry humping | lmk if I missed anything!

☆　Pairing: fem! Reader x young! peacekeeper! Coriolanus Snow

☆　Summary: Lucy Gray left but you find him in the forest instead and shit goes down

☆　A/N: this fic is inspired by the fact that i imagined myself to be the one sucking the 'poisoned bite' and be like now we both die and i like you lmao, i hope you guys like it!

Ps. This is the official canon ending :D

Ps². Listened to this song mainly to write the smut, so i am just gonna leave it here. . .

| masterlist | taglist | bc: @cafekitsune |

“Lucy Gray! Are you trying to kill me!?”

Coriolanus Snow yelled as he kept pointing the gun in random directions. It wasn't long after that he began shooting in the sky causing the murder of numerous mockingjays up in the air.

He had found the necklace, he had found the scarf. She left. She was a loose end. She needs to die, fucking die so Snow could have the life he deserved. The life he worked for, the life he was entitled to since birth. The life of a Snow.

“Lucy Gray! We can talk about this!” He yells out, “Just come out!” But Lucy Gray was nowhere to be found, as if she was a ghost. As if she was the Lucy Gray from the song, a mystery to never be found.

He pointed his gun in the direction where he heard the sound of a twig snapping. It wasn't Lucy Gray but you. Your eyes were wide, chest heaving as you slowly walked towards him with your hands raised. “Coryo,” you whispered, scared, your feet walking towards him with hesitation but never flattering.

He had no idea how you had found him. He wasn't sure why you were either here. It was already too much for him that Sejanus came (and now he is dead, dead, dead. The third person he had killed). And you followed him too, pulling in favors, deciding to be a medic along with Sejanus, serving time with your best friends (not his, he never considered you or Sej as his friend).

“Where's Lucy Gray!?” He yelled, walking towards you, gun still pointed. It makes you walk backward until your back hits the hard bark of a tree. The rough texture of the bark is uncomfortable due to your thin shirt. You scrunch your nose at the mention of her. You never liked her much. He didn't know why but perhaps it was all a ruse just for this very moment. This very betrayal from her.

“How would I know?” You scoffed, the haughty attitude of a Capitol citizen coming through despite having a gun pointed at you. He pressed the end of the gun at your chest. “Tell me the truth,” he growled. “That girl tried to poison me. Tell me where she is!”

“I don't know,” you hiss back, your eyes ablaze. “And get the gun out of my face. You should be heading to a fucking medic right now. Are you sure she poisoned you?” Your voice was now laced with concern, eyes softening as you looked at him, his t-shirt clinging to him with sweat, his cheeks flushed, eyes so wide that the blues were hidden with black instead.

Coryo gets the gun away from you to put his arm forward. Showing you his snake bite, the puncture wound oozing out beads of red blood on his snow-like skin. “It's probably non-poisonous,” you said, trying to sound optimistic.

“No, it's not!” He growls, and anger fills in every movement and word of his. “She's trying to kill me. She's district! I shouldn't have- shouldn't have-” You hold his arm, your fingers around his wound, trying to stop the bleeding.

“It's fine,” you whispered, trying your best that the tone you use with him is soft and gentle. You want to shake him out of the mental breakdown that was happening. He shakes his head and you press your fingertips into the wound.

“It's fine,” you whispered, “let's get you back. Come on.” You try to urge him forward, only for him to pull himself out of your grasp. “No! I need to find her. She's a loose end. She will tell. She's a snake, not a songbird,” he rambles.

Despite the confusion you felt with his words, you grit your teeth. “Come on, Coryo! We need to head back,” you said, your hand on his wrist, trying to drag him out of the middle of the green forest.

“No! We need to find her out before the poison works” he yells, pulling you back and pushing you. Pinning you effectively between him and a tree.

You glare at him before a moment of impulsivity takes over you. You take his arm, your mouth around the bleeding wound and you suck letting whatever ‘poisoned blood’ onto your tongue. His eyes widen as he sees the redness of his blood now painting your lips. “Now can we go back?” You said as you licked the blood clean. “Because if it's poison, we will both die.”

“Why would-” he visibly freezes. He doesn't want your blood on his hands. No- it would be on Lucy's hands. It's her fault. Everything is her fault. “Why would you do that?” He whispered, leaning closer to you, his face now mere inches away from yours. It was like he was seeing you for the first time. Like he never saw you for you until now. Someone like him. Unhinged (not that he's willing to admit it).

He hooks his fingers under your chin, holding your jaw and tilting your lips towards his. His eyes were searching for sanity but seemed to have found none as a smile (filled with insanity) spread on his face. “You're crazy,” he whispered, “Are you that desperate?”

“Desperate for your well-being, Coryo,” you whispered, hating the fact that your gaze fell on his soft-looking lips. “I don't know what's wrong, Coriolanus. But come with me, let's go back. Lucy Gray isn't worth anything.”

“Lucy Gray is worth everything!” He yelled, pressing his body with yours, pain in your bones flaring as he without noticing crushed you.

“I am sure she will have poison for you too. I am sure she will come back then,” you spit out. You felt outrageous at his behavior. “She ran, didn't she? To the North. You gonna go there too, Coryo?” you questioned, your eyes now meeting his. You try to find an answer but find something deeply tangled instead, neither a yes or a no.

You never felt such pity for Coriolanus Snow before as you did now. You put your palm on his cheek. “Come with me,” you said, softening your voice. “Back to the peacekeepers, the general told me about District 2 and I can put in favors so we can be back in the Capitol in no time.”

“You didn't choose Sejanus,” you whispered, the mention of Sej causing him to freeze. “Choose me,” you plead, feeling pathetic for being reduced to this. But it was for your Coryo so it was worth it. Wasn't it?

A chip from the bird makes him look away but you use your hand to make him face you again. Tears begin to pool in your eyes. You find your heart preparing itself for a rejection. “Choose me,” you choke out, a sob in your throat ready to come out when he says no, no, no Lucy Gray it is, never you.

You wait and wait for the rejection, your eyelids closing themselves so he doesn't see himself (or the way you looked at him with love) in the reflective tears. “Look at me,” he whispered, feeling his hot breath on your lips now. And you didn't want to listen but your eyes opened back up, light coming in and he's in your sight.

All glorious as you always thought of Snow.

Snow lands on top.

Haven't every Capitol child learned that from history? You were no exception. And you never planned to be. Even after finding out the truth about his situation, you never thought less of him, if anything everything you felt about him increased tenfold without your consent. Oh, how you should hate him. Oh, but how much you love him.

He leaned in and you didn't move. He stops for a mere second as if reconsidering his decision. But then decided to fuck it because the next thing you know his lips against yours.

He tasted like cheap alcohol, he tasted like ruin and danger. You ate it all up by parting your lips so his tongue could slip in. You let out a moan as his teeth bite into your lips. For a moment you think he's a snake and that he's the one poisoning you. His poison is more potent than an actual snake’s ever could be.

You were simple prey, that's it. Instead of a bullet, he was shooting your heart with a kiss. And it was working because in the future he will be the end of you. A slow, slow poison, he controlled the kiss despite the way his tongue slid against yours was clumsy but so perfect.

You kissed him back to the best of your abilities, wondering briefly if you tasted like the pastry you had in the morning. You let him take your bottom lip between his teeth to suck and bite however he wants. Your hands find his buzz cut instead of his golden curls and a whine leaves your lips from the frustration of the loss.

Your hand is on his nape and another is still on his cheek as neither of you breaks the kiss. It didn't matter that you were getting lightheaded. It didn't matter that you could feel your heartbeat increasing due to lack of oxygen. He was everything, you would be damned if you broke the kiss.

You gasp as the kiss is broken. You stare into his eyes, searching for something, anything. But you find nothing but ice blue. It sent chills down your spine but at least he had calmed down now. “Feeling better?” You asked and you got a rough nod as a reply.

“Come on, we have work to do,” he whispered as he pulled back. His dog tag dangles as he begins to walk towards the cabin again, navigating the path with his father's compass.

You find the cabin and the guns. Coriolanus looks at you waiting for a protest, disgust, expecting you to run away just like Lucy Gray. You didn't do anything except sigh, your shoulder wearing down as you realized the truth of it all. You didn't say a word but your hand finds his. He doesn't say anything either but squeezes your hand back. An unspoken promise. He had chosen you. You had chosen him. You were in this together now.

There's no going back.

Both of you row the boat and let the guns sink into the river, never to be found again. You find your way back to the cabin, the rain pouring down again. You sit beside Snow- no, no, still Coryo. Always Coryo. Your head on his shoulder, your knees pressed to your chest as you hear the tip tap of rain outside.

Not a single sound is made. But as time passes and the rain doesn't stop, you begin to crave his lips again. As if that one kiss was morphine, and you needed more to heal the ache of your soul. “Coriolanus,” you whispered.

“Coryo,” he reprimanded softly, his tone enticing as if he was trying to bewitch. You feel your palms sweat as embarrassment begins to nag your mind. You blurt it out before you can think about how pathetic you sound.

“Can I have another kiss, Coryo?”

The next few moments were a blur. Lips on lips. Clumsily tongues meeting each other and whining into each other's mouths. You were shamelessly grinding on Coryo's lap as your lips continued to stay locked with his. “I want you so bad,” you admit as you feel his cock harden underneath you.

“Since the academy,” you whispered against his lips, a moan escaping your lips when he held your hips and began to guide them to grind on his completely hard bulge.

“Oh, yeah?” He mocks, “It's pretty fucking obvious.” He choked off a groan coming out of his mouth, “You're willing to let go of the fact that I am a murderer, huh?” You let out a whimper as he mentioned that. But both of you knew the answer to that, a part of you knew what kind of predator he was. Ever since you knew about how he killed a tribute, you just called it. It never mattered to you how horrible he could be or in this case, is.

“Yes, yes,” you moan into his mouth. Was it an answer or a mere whine about how perfect the friction felt against your pantie-soaked pussy? You didn't know but Coriolanus thought of it as the former. “You gonna be my girl, then? A capitol princess being a peacekeepers’ doll to fuck,” he whispered, his tongue licking a strip of skin on your neck.

You moan as his teeth begin to harshly assault your skin, covering your neck with marks. “Yes,” you gasp, “as long as it's you.” God, how much more pathetic could you be? But it didn't matter, it got him higher and fed his ego after everything that had happened. He loved it and perhaps, he could grow to love you.

Not in the way, Coryo loved Lucy Gray but in the way Snow would love his First Lady.

Your hands tug off his wet t-shirt and throw it on the floor. His hands do the same with your peacekeeper's uniform. He grabs your hips, squeezing the plump of flesh there, his mouth panting into you and he looks at you with dilated eyes.

Time seems to have slowed down as you touch his dog tag, your fingers tracing the name carved into the metal. “I want this. You, right now, right here,” you whispered like it was the biggest secret of your life. “Do you?” You ask as your hands go lower to fiddle with the zipper of his pants.

He doesn't give you a verbal answer, only pulling you into another kiss with his fingers woven into your hair in a fist as his free hand goes down below to free his cock from the confines of his trousers.

You grip his length, stroking it and squeezing out pearly pre-cum from the tip. You savor the deep groan that leaves his lips. “Fuck… just like that, doll,” he instructed and you obey. Your strokes get faster and his pre becomes natural lube as you continue. He lets out a hiss when you twist your wrist and his hand snares around your wrist. “Wanna cum in your cunt first,” he said, breathless from the ecstasy of having your hands on him.

Within moments the remaining clothes on both of you were scattered around the cabin. You moan into his mouth, your fingers desperately clawing at his shoulders as you begin to grind your soaking wet pussy against his hard cock. You gasp, elated by how your folds pressed against his length, his cockhead being teased by your slit but unable to breach the threshold.

The kisses you shared with him were sloppy. Saliva coating his chin as neither of you was willing to separate your lips for a single unnecessary moment. You knew your lips would hurt by the end of this, that they were swollen and the inside of it bleeding because of how insistently his teeth loved to bite your lower lip. He was no better either. You tasted more blood from the kisses now than anything, and it didn't matter to you because somehow the salty, rusty taste felt like just him.

You let out a sound unfitting of a Capitol-raised woman when his cockhead slips inside your gummy walls. His tip now profusely leaks pre-cum inside your gummy walls. You pulled back, biting your lower lip to stop the whimper as you feel his cockhead stretching out your virgin walls.

“That's it, dove,” he lets out, all needy and heated. His hands squeeze your hips to be encouraging as you let yourself down on his cock slowly. “Take it all in. You can do it, doll,” he whispered, as his eyes were down looking at his length entering you, being surrounded by the wicked, addicting warmth of your tight cunt.

“I can?” You let out a whine, as the pain bleeds into the pleasure, the ratio of it throwing you off the dizzy full lust. He hums in encouragement as you finally fill yourself with his dick to the hilt. Your slick walls pulsate around his length.

“Atta girl,” he smiles at you, his eyes brightening up from how well you took him and without any complaints whatsoever. “That's a good slut,” he whispered and smirked when he felt your walls clench around him deliciously.

You tried to move your hips but gave up when the burn made your eyes water. He coos at you encouragingly, telling you to adjust to his girth first. He wasn't going to rut into you like a dog, you're a Capitol girl, not a district whore. He wasn't going to disrespect you like that, no matter how much he wanted you to begin rolling your hips.

So your lips latch onto his neck, while your arms are around him and your legs around his waist. You were clinging to him, as if afraid that if you ease up in your grip he will fade away from your life, from this moment and your reality together. The smell of sex and sweat begins to become stronger than the smell of gunpowder as you continue to give him hickeys in various places on his skin.

Coriolanus doesn't complain that you're marking him like this, not when he's doing the same task with his tongue tracing the love bites his teeth left. And you suspect he rather enjoys when you bite, as his cock twitches whenever your teeth dig into his flesh as if you're eating and your wet tongue licks over the bite as if you're tasting the flavor of his skin.

When you're finally comfortable with his cock being inside the most intimate part of you. You slowly but surely begin to make small, shallow thrusts that have you gasping, your eyes rolling back with how good it feels already because he was fucking into your g-spot with every roll of your hips. The thrusts were teasing, it had him groaning praises of you being a good girl and his hold tightening over your hips, surely leaving bruises.

You begin to relish the feeling of being stuffed, his cockhead kissing your cervix when you get the angle just right. Your folds coat him with your creamy juices, a ring of white forming on his base with how wet you were. Slowly but surely the pleasure begins to build up, your nails digging into his shoulders as you start to put up force with the way you rock back and forth on his cock.

You pant into his mouth, your lips letting out sharp moans when his dick strokes your walls just right. He lets you control the pace, his mouth busy latching onto your nipple to suck. His tongue swirls around the bud, hardening it inside his mouth and he nips your nipple just to have you jolt from the bite and squeeze down on his cock.

One of his hands now kneads the other breast he wasn't giving much attention to, his fingers rolling the nipple, pinching the bud, and playing with it. His other hand goes between your bodies and finds your clit. You soon realize he was working with a pattern that was driving you insane, turning your cunt into a hotter slicker mess.

When he swirled his tongue around your nipple, his fingers did roll the other bud. Meanwhile, his thumb would drive small, rapid circles onto your swollen bundle of nerves. When he bit into your nipple, his fingers pinched your clit making you gasp with thunderous pleasure filling your veins.

He continues at this and tension begins to build up in your tummy. You close your eyes as animalistic instincts begin to take over your body. The need to cum overrides everything else as you begin to roll your hips faster and harder. Desperate to cum around his cock for the first time of many times in your life. He feels the same way because he encourages you with his hips bucking into you, thrusting perfectly inside of your slick walls.

“So close, Coryo!” You moan, your nails leaving red lines in their path on his shoulders. He latches off your breasts to whisper, “Cum then, my slut. Let me feel you milk my cock like a good cockwhore would.” You let out a louder moan at his words. His condescending tone snaps the tension that had formed in your tummy, you begin to cum.

Your pussy spasming around his cock, triggering his orgasm. He empties his balls inside of you without any hesitation, filling you up with his thick, hot cum. “That's a good girl. Look how well you took me. Look at the cum leaking out, dove,” his tone teasing, like many times he has teased in classes but the context of this was entirely different.

You look down, your pussy clenching around his cock again when you see his seed ooze out of you. Your body slumps into him, tired from all of this. Both mentally and physically. The storm was still going on. You lay in his arms, his cum now coating the insides of your thighs.

“You're smarter than Lucy Gray,” he said, “I pray you know better than to run. I won't miss the next time.”

You shake your head, trying to hide the smile forming on your face. Others would have run from his words, anyone sane would. Lucy Gray did after all. But you were just you.

“If I wanted to run, I wouldn't have found you in the first place,” you whispered, sealing your words with a soft kiss on his lips.

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jupiterpilgrim · 20 days ago

Text

Teach 'Em a Lesson: The Bold Guide to Putting Bullies in Their Place

Gaeul x Male Reader

word count: 7.2K

You're chilling at Gaeul's place with the crew, sprawled on her comfy couch playing Pokemon on your phone. Your friends are getting restless, talking about grabbing some pizza from that fancy joint across town.

"Yo guys, let's roll! I'm fucking starving," one of your friends says, jangling the car keys.

Everyone starts walking towards the door, but there's only room for five, and there are six of you. Well, you are very focused on your game, so without much suffering you accept the mission to be exiled from the pizza run.

But...

Gaeul waves goodbye to them, saying she'll stay behind as well.

"Someone's gotta babysit the nerd," she snickers, jerking her thumb at you.

You barely look up from your game, used to her constant teasing. At 5'5; Gaeul's a tiny thing but she makes up for it with attitude. Her boyish style - baggy jeans, oversized hoodie hiding her small tits - doesn't stop her from being hot as fuck.

Not that you'd ever admit that to her face.

The door slams shut and suddenly it's just you two. The silence feels different now. Gaeul flops down next to you, peering at your screen.

"Seriously? Pokemon? No wonder you can't get any pussy,” she taunts, poking your arm.

"Fuck off, I date plenty," you mutter, trying to focus on your battle.

She lets out a bark of laughter. "Yeah right! Name one girl you've fucked."

"None of your fucking business." Your ears burn but you keep your eyes on the screen.

"Ha! Virgin alert!" She's grinning now, enjoying getting under your skin. "Bet you've never even kissed anyone. Too busy jerking it to anime titties."

Your jaw clenches. "I said: fuck off…"

"I don't know how we have friends in common."

"Shut up, Gaeul..."

"Make me, virgin boy!" She snatches your phone, holding it just out of reach. "What're you gonna do about it?"

Something snaps inside you. In one fluid motion, you grab her wrist and pin her against the couch. She squeaks in surprise, eyes going wide. your phone falls onto the couch seat next to you.

"The fuck did you just call me? Say it again!" you growl, pressing her down. Your body covers hers completely.

"I-I... virgin boy?" Her voice wavers but there's a glint in her eye that wasn't there before.

You grip both her wrists now, holding them above her head. "Ha! Wrong answer."

Her breath hitches. You can feel her pulse racing under your fingers. That's when you notice it - the way she's squirming isn't to get away. Her thighs press together, hips shifting restlessly.

"Holy shit," you breathe. "You like this, don't you? The tough girl act is just that - an act."

"N-no!" But her face flushes red and her nipples are hard points visible through her hoodie.

You lean down, lips brushing her ear. "Lying bitch! I can feel how wet you are through your jeans." She whimpers, and that sound goes straight to your cock. "Wanna see how much of a virgin I am?" You grind against her, letting her feel how hard you are.

"What the fuck are you doing?!"

"Just proving that even an annoying brat like you can turn me on too."

"Fuck you, n-nerd…" she whispers, but there's no bite in it. Her pupils are dilated, chest rising and falling rapidly.

"I'm not fucking kidding. Bedroom. Now." You release her wrists but maintain eye contact, daring her to disobey.

For a moment she hesitates, then scrambles up and leads the way to her room.

The second you're through her door, you grab her hoodie and yank it over her head. No bra underneath - her small tits are perfect handfuls topped with hard pink nipples.

"Fucking slut, walking around braless," you growl, pinching one nipple roughly. She cries out, legs trembling. "Bet you were hoping for this, weren't you?"

"No, I... ah!" She gasps as you twist harder.

"Still lying?" You spin her around, bending her over the edge of her bed. "Let's see how wet you really are."

You pull her jeans and cotton boyshorts down to her knees. Her pussy is dripping, juice running down her thighs.

"Look at that," you laugh darkly, running two fingers through her folds. "Soaked just from being manhandled a little. What a pathetic little sub you are."

“I-I'm not pathetic…”

She tries to close her legs but you kick them apart, keeping her spread wide. Your fingers circle her clit, making her moan.

"Please..." she whimpers.

"Please what?" You slide one finger inside her tight hole. "Use your words, slut."

"Please... oh… fuck me..." Her voice is barely a whisper.

You add a second finger, pumping them slowly. "What was that? Couldn't hear you."

"Fuck me!" she practically screams. "Please, I need your cock!"

"That's better." You pull your fingers out and wipe them on her ass. "But first..."

Your hand comes down hard on her right cheek. She yelps but pushes back for more.

"Gonna spank this attitude right out of you."

You alternate cheeks, watching them bounce and jiggle. Each hit makes her pussy drip more, a puddle forming on the floor. Her ass turns a beautiful shade of pink.

"Count them," you order.

SMACK!

"One!" she gasps.

SMACK!

"Two!"

By ten, she's sobbing and rutting against nothing. Her ass is bright red and hot to the touch.

"Good girl," you purr, rubbing the beaten flesh. "Now, on your knees!"

Half nervous and half anxious, she hurriedly gets rid of the pieces of clothing still on her knees, almost tripping in the process.

You take off your shoes and unzip your jeans, taking off your pants along with your underwear, letting your rock-hard cock spring free.

The sight before you makes your cock throb with anticipation - Gaeul, the annoying little brat who's been pushing your buttons for months, completely naked and on her knees in her bedroom. Her petite body trembles slightly as she stares at your massive erection, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and unmistakable lust.

You've finally figured out her game. All those times she went out of her way to irritate you, to get under your skin - it wasn't just random bitchiness. No, this pathetic slut has been desperately trying to get your attention the only way she knew how.

"Like what you see?" you growl, slowly stroking your shaft. "This is what you've been after all along, isn't it?"

Gaeul swallows hard, her small breasts rising and falling with quick, shallow breaths. Her nipples are rock hard, betraying her arousal despite her attempts to play innocent.

"I... I don't know what you mean..." she stammers, but her eyes remain locked on your cock.

You step closer, close enough that your cockhead brushes against her flushed cheek. She gasps but doesn't pull away.

"Don't play dumb with me, you little tease. All those times you went out of your way to annoy me, to get under my skin... you were just begging to be put in your place, weren't you?"

Your hand shoots out to grab a fistful of her silky black hair, yanking her head back roughly. She yelps in surprise and pain, but you can see her thighs pressing together, trying to relieve the ache between them.

"Look at you, getting wet just from being manhandled again," you taunt, using your free hand to slap your cock against her cheek. "Such a pathetic little slut. Admit it - admit what you really are!"

"Please..." she whimpers, squirming under your grip.

You tighten your hold on her hair, making her gasp. "That's not what I want to hear. Tell me the truth - tell me why you've been such an annoying little bitch."

Tears form in the corners of her eyes, but they're not tears of fear or pain.

No.

These are tears of shameful arousal as she finally faces what she really is.

"Because... I-I'm sorry… because I wanted this," she whispers.

"Wanted what? Be specific, whore."

"I wanted you to get angry! To put me in my place!" The words burst from her like a dam breaking. "I wanted you to see what a desperate slut I am! Please... please use me..."

You smirk, satisfied with her confession. "That's better. Now open that bratty mouth of yours - time to put it to better use than talking back to me."

Gaeul parts her lips eagerly as you press your cockhead against them. Her tongue darts out to taste you, making your shaft twitch. But you're not interested in letting her take her time exploring.

Gripping both sides of her head firmly, you thrust forward, forcing your thick cock past her lips. She gags immediately as you hit the back of her throat, but you don't let up.

"Relax that throat, slut," you command. "You wanted my attention? Well, now you've got all of it."

You start fucking her face properly, each thrust going deeper than the last. Tears stream down her cheeks as she struggles to accommodate your size, but her eyes are glazed with unmistakable lust.

"Look at you, choking on cock like you were born for it," you taunt as you bottom out in her throat. Her nose presses against your pelvis as you hold yourself deep, cutting off her air. "Is this what you imagined when you were being an annoying little tease? Getting your throat used like a cheap fleshlight?"

Gaeul can only make gurgling sounds in response, drool running down her chin and coating your shaft. You hold yourself there until her face starts turning red, then pull back to let her gasp for air.

"Please..." she begs hoarsely between coughs. "I need more... need you to fuck my pussy too..."

"Oh, you'll get that tight cunt stuffed soon enough," you promise. "But first, I'm going to make sure you never forget what happens to bratty little sluts who don't know how to ask nicely for cock."

You slam back into her mouth, setting a brutal pace that has her gagging and retching around your shaft. Her throat spasms beautifully with each deep thrust, but she doesn't try to pull away. Instead, she grabs your thighs, trying to take you even deeper.

"Such a natural cocksucker," you grunt, watching your dick disappear between her stretched lips over and over. "All that attitude, and all you really needed was to be throat-fucked into submission."

After thoroughly using her mouth, you finally pull out. Gaeul gasps for air, her face a mess of tears, drool, and smeared makeup. Without giving her time to recover, you grab her arms and throw her onto the bed.

"Ass up, face down," you order. "Show me that needy pussy you've been hiding under those baggy jeans."

She scrambles to obey, getting into position and arching her back to present herself to you. Her pussy is absolutely drenched, her inner thighs glistening with her arousal. You run your cock through her soaked folds, coating it in her juices.

"Fuck, you really are desperate for it," you observe. "Your cunt's practically drooling. Beg for it, slut! Tell me how badly you need this cock."

"Please fuck me!" she cries out, pushing back against your teasing shaft. "I need it so bad... need you to fill me up and use me like the whore I am! I've been such a bad girl, teasing you all this time... please punish my pussy!"

You line up with her entrance and thrust in hard, making her scream. Her cunt is incredibly tight, gripping your cock like a vice as you force your way deeper. Each inch stretches her walls, making her whole body tremble.

"Fuck, you really are a desperate little slut," you grunt, starting to pound her roughly. "Your pussy's practically sucking me in. Is this what you've been dreaming about while playing your little games?"

Gaeul moans uncontrollably, her whole body shaking as you ravage her tight hole. Each brutal thrust makes her small tits bounce and jiggle. You reach down to pinch and twist her nipples, making her clench even tighter around your cock.

"Yes! Yes! Harder!" she begs shamelessly. "Use my slutty pussy! Make me your fucktoy! I've wanted this for so long!"

You increase your pace, slamming into her cervix with each stroke. The wet sounds of your cock plowing her needy cunt fill the room, along with her desperate moans and whimpers. Her pussy gets wetter and wetter, practically gushing around your shaft.

"You're going to cum on my cock like the whore you are," you tell her. "Then I'm going to take that virgin asshole too. Going to claim every hole you've got."

Her pussy spasms at your words.

"My... my ass? But I've never... No… it's too big..."

"That tight little hole belongs to me now," you growl, reaching around to rub her clit roughly as you continue pounding her pussy. "I'm going to stretch it out and fill it with cum. Mark you as my personal fucktoy."

Gaeul's moans rise in pitch, her body tensing up as your fingers work her sensitive clit. Combined with the relentless pounding of her pussy, it's quickly pushing her toward the edge.

"Cum for me, slut. Show me how much you love being used like this."

She screams as her orgasm hits, her pussy clamping down hard on your cock. You fuck her through it mercilessly, prolonging her pleasure until she's sobbing and shaking uncontrollably.

Without pulling out, you gather some of her abundant wetness and press a finger against her virgin asshole. She whimpers as you slowly work it inside, her tight ring of muscle resisting the intrusion.

"Please be gentle..." she begs. "I've never had anything in there..."

"You'll take what I give you," you growl, adding a second finger to stretch her tight hole. "This ass is mine now, just like the rest of you."

You finger-fuck her thoroughly, making sure she's ready for your cock. Her whimpers of discomfort gradually turn to moans of pleasure as her body adjusts to the new sensation. You can feel her pushing back against your fingers, hungry for more.

Finally, you pull out of her pussy and press your cockhead against her stretched asshole. "Deep breath, slut. Here comes your first assfucking."

You push forward slowly but steadily, watching your cock disappear into her virgin hole. Gaeul cries out, clutching the sheets as you stretch her wider than your fingers did. Her whole body trembles as you claim her last untouched hole.

"That's it, take it all," you encourage as you sink deeper. "Such a good little anal slut... taking cock in your virgin ass like you were made for it."

When you're fully buried in her ass, you pause to let her adjust. Her whole body is shaking, caught between pain and pleasure as her tight hole stretches around your thick shaft.

"Move..." she finally whispers, her voice thick with need. "Please... fuck my ass... make me completely yours..."

You start with slow, shallow thrusts, gradually building up speed and depth. Her tight hole grips your cock beautifully, sending waves of pleasure through you. Each stroke becomes easier as her body accepts the invasion.

"Look at you, taking cock in your virgin ass like a natural," you taunt, watching your shaft disappear into her stretched hole over and over. "You really are just a complete whore, aren't you? Born to take cock in all your holes."

"Yes, sir!" she moans, pushing back to meet your thrusts. "I'm your whore! Your anal slut! Please fuck me harder! Use my ass!"

You grant her wish, picking up the pace until you're properly fucking her ass. The sight of your cock plunging in and out of her stretched hole is incredible. You reach around to play with her dripping pussy, finding her clit swollen and sensitive.

"You're actually getting off on having your ass fucked," you marvel, feeling how wet she still is. "Such a perfect little fucktoy... getting your virgin ass stretched and loving every second of it!"

Gaeul can only moan in response, her body rocking with each thrust. You can feel her getting close to another orgasm, her holes clenching rhythmically around your cock and fingers.

"Cum for me again," you order, rubbing her clit faster. "Cum while I fuck this tight ass. Show me what a complete slut you've become."

Your fingers work her sensitive nub as you pound her ass, and soon she's screaming through another intense orgasm. The way her asshole spasms around your cock pushes you closer to your own climax.

"Where do you want my cum, slut?! Tell me how you want me to mark you as mine."

"In my ass!" she begs desperately. "Please cum deep in my ass! Fill me up... make me yours completely! I want to feel your hot cum inside me!"

You grab her hips with both hands and start fucking her ass with abandon, chasing your release. Her tight hole feels amazing, squeezing and milking your cock perfectly. Each thrust makes her whole body shake, her moans getting louder and more desperate.

"Take it all," you grunt as you finally explode, flooding her ass with hot cum. "Every last fucking drop... marking this tight hole as mine forever..."

You stay buried deep as you empty yourself inside her, making sure she takes every drop of your seed. When you finally pull out, cum immediately starts leaking from her gaping hole, running down her thighs in thick rivulets.

Gaeul collapses onto the bed, thoroughly used and satisfied. Her holes are red and swollen, leaking your cum and her own juices. You give her ass a hard slap, making her jump and moan weakly.

"From now on, you're mine," you tell her firmly. "No more bratty behavior - unless you want another lesson like this one. Understand?"

She looks back at you with glazed eyes, cum still dripping from her well-fucked ass. "Yes, sir... I'll be good, I… fuck… I promise..."

“Too busy catching Pikachus to catch some pussy, huh? What a shitty stereotype…”

"I thoug-"

“Shut up. Answer me: still think I'm a virgin?" you ask with a smirk.

She laughs weakly. "Definitely not. Fuck, I'm not gonna be able to sit right for days.”

"Good." You give her ass one final smack, making her yelp. "Maybe next time you'll think twice before talking shit.”

"Maybe," she grins. "Or maybe I'll just have to keep provoking you."

You grab her hair, pulling her in for a rough kiss. "Careful what you wish for, little slut. I might just have to teach you another lesson." She moans into the kiss. Your lips move down to her neck, where you leave a few bite marks, just so she remembers you when she looks in the mirror later. "The others will be back soon," you remind her. "Better clean yourself up before they see what a whore you really are."

Gaeul struggles to sit up, wincing at the soreness in her ass.

You head back to the living room, leaving her to clean up the mess you made of her. When you settle back on the couch and pick up your phone, the Pokemon game is still running.

A few minutes later, Gaeul emerges, walking down the stairs with a certain distrust in her expression, wearing fresh clothes, but walking with a slight limp. She sits gingerly on the opposite end of the couch, unable to meet your eyes.

"Something wrong?" you ask innocently. "You're usually so talkative."

She squirms uncomfortably. "Shut up..."

"That's not very nice, Gaeul." You give her a warning look. "Do we need another lesson already?"

Gaeul's eyes go wide and she quickly shakes her head. "No! Not now! I-I mean... I'll be good."

"That's what I thought." You turn back to your game with a satisfied smile, knowing you've finally found the perfect way to handle your bratty tomboy bully.

—

The sound of cars pulling up outside announces the return of your friends. Gaeul quickly tries to fix her messy hair and straighten her clothes, but there's no hiding the fresh bite marks on her neck or the slight tremor in her hands.

"Hey guys, we're back with pizza!" calls out one of your friends as they enter the house. "Hope you two didn't kill each other while we were gone!"

If they only knew.

Your friends pile into the living room, carrying several pizza boxes and drinks. They seem oblivious to the tension in the air or the way Gaeul can barely sit still.

"Everything okay?" one of them asks, noticing Gaeul's unusual quietness. "You seem different."

“I'm fucking fine!”

Gaeul blushes deeply. Your friends look confused but shrug it off, too focused on the food to question further.

As everyone settles in to eat, you catch Gaeul stealing glances at you when she thinks no one is looking. Each time your eyes meet, she quickly looks away, but you can see the mixture of fear and arousal in her expression.

You make sure to sit next to her on the couch, close enough that your thigh presses against hers. She tenses but doesn't move away, especially when you rest your hand on her knee under the pretense of reaching for a slice of pizza.

"So what did you guys do while we were gone?" someone asks between bites.

"Just played some games," you say casually, squeezing Gaeul's thigh. "Taught Gaeul a few new things."

She nearly chokes on her pizza, earning concerned looks from your friends. "Are you okay?" they ask as she coughs.

"Fine," she manages to say. "Just... went down the wrong way."

You smirk, knowing exactly what went down her throat earlier. Your hand slides higher up her thigh, making her squirm.

The rest of the evening passes in a blur of pizza, conversation, and subtle torment as you continue to tease Gaeul under the radar of your oblivious friends. Every touch makes her jump, every whispered comment makes her blush.

Now you understand why she teases you.

It's so fucking pleasurable.

When everyone finally starts heading home for the night, you hang back, pretending to look for your phone. As the last friend leaves, you corner Gaeul in the kitchen.

"Think you learned your lesson?" you ask, pressing her against the counter.

She nods quickly, her breath catching as you lean in close. "Yes... I won't be mean anymore."

"Good girl." You grab her ass roughly, making her gasp. "But just to make sure it sticks..."

Before she can protest, you spin her around and bend her over the kitchen counter. Your hand slides into her shorts, finding her already wet.

"Fuck, you're soaked again," you growl in her ear. "Did you get turned on sitting there in front of everyone, knowing what a whore you are?"

"Please," she whimpers. "They might come back..."

"Better be quiet then." You pull her shorts down just enough to expose her ass and pussy. "Wouldn't want them to see their tough tomboy friend being used like a fucktoy."

You unzip your pants and line up with her entrance, sliding into her still-tight pussy in one smooth thrust. Gaeul bites her lip to keep from moaning as you start fucking her against the counter.

"Such a good little slut now," you grunt, gripping her hips. "Amazing what a proper fucking can do to fix an attitude problem."

Your pace increases, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the kitchen. Gaeul's legs shake as she tries to stay quiet, small whimpers escaping despite her best efforts.

You reach around to rub her clit while you pound into her, feeling her pussy clench around your cock. Her whole body trembles as another orgasm approaches.

"Please," she whispers desperately. "I'm so close..."

"Cum for me," you command, working her clit faster. "Show me what a good girl you can be."

Gaeul buries her face in her arm to muffle her scream as she cums hard, her pussy spasming around your shaft. You fuck her through her orgasm until she's practically sobbing from overstimulation.

Just as you're about to cum, you pull out and spin her around, forcing her to her knees. "Open your mouth. Take your reward like a good slut."

She obeys immediately, looking up at you with those big eyes as you stroke your cock. With a grunt, you explode all over her face, covering her in thick ropes of cum.

"Don't move," you order as you tuck yourself away. "I want to remember you like this - on your knees, covered in my cum, finally learning your place."

Gaeul stays still, cum dripping down her face onto her chest. She looks thoroughly debauched and completely submissive.

"Clean yourself up," you say, heading for the door. "And remember - any time you start acting like a bitch again, this is what happens."

As you leave her house, you can't help but smile thinking about how different things will be now. The dynamic between you and Gaeul has shifted completely - no more will she bet the untouchable tomboy who loves to torment you. Now you know what she really needs, what she's been craving all along.

—

You sit in class, bored as fuck scrolling through your phone under the desk. A notification pops up - it's from Gaeul. Your heart skips a beat seeing that familiar contact name. Opening the message, you nearly drop your phone - this crazy bitch sent you a pic of her tight ass with an anal plug inserted, taken in what looks like the girls' bathroom. The caption reads "Missing your fat cock stretching me out... meet me after class? 😈"

You adjust yoursel in secret, already getting hard remembering how you bent her over your desk yesterday and fucked her tight ass until she was begging for more. It still amazes you how things changed between you two. For months she tormented you - calling you names, tarnishing your image at college, making fun of you in front of your friends…

Until that one day you finally snapped.

Now here you are three months later, sexting during class while pretending nothing's changed in public, with a phone full of filthy videos and pictures of your former bully. Videos of her fucking herself with toys, close-ups of her stretched holes, clips of her begging for your cock. On the surface she still acts tough, but you know the truth - she's just a needy anal slut who craves being dominated.

Your phone buzzes again - another pic from the bathroom, this time showing her fingers buried in her dripping pussy. "Can't wait anymore... Come fuck me NOW!!"

You raise your hand, making up some bullshit excuse about feeling sick. The professor waves you out and you practically run to the second floor bathroom where you know she's waiting. The halls are empty since class is still in session.

You slip inside the second floor bathroom and there she is - still in her typical tomboy getup of baggy jeans and oversized hoodie. Her short hair is slightly messy and her cheeks are flushed. The contrast between her tough exterior and what you know lies underneath makes your cock throb.

"Took you long enough, nerd," she smirks, but you can see the desperate hunger in her eyes. Her tough girl act doesn't work on you anymore - not since you discovered what a submissive little slut she really is.

"Shut the fuck up," you growl, grabbing her by the throat and slamming her against the cold tile wall. She gasps, her pupils dilating with lust. "Sending me pictures like that while I'm in class... you're such a desperate whore."

"Hmm, maybe I am," she taunts, grinding against your obvious bulge. "What are you gonna do about it?"

You tighten your grip on her throat, using your other hand to roughly grope her small tits through her clothes. Even through the baggy fabric you can feel her hard nipples. "I'm gonna remind you exactly who owns this body."

"Big talk from a ne-" Her words cut off in a moan as you spin her around and bend her over the sink, yanking those loose jeans down to her thighs. She's not wearing any underwear, the slut. The metal plug glints between her ass cheeks, just like in the picture she sent.

"Look at you, walking around with a plug in your ass like a proper anal whore." You give her pale ass a hard slap, leaving a red handprint. "Bet you've been thinking about my cock all morning."

"Fuck... yes..." she admits, dropping the attitude as you start playing with the plug. "Haven't stopped thinking about it since last night..."

You slowly twist and pull the plug, watching her asshole grip the metal. "Tell me what you want. I want to hear the tough tomboy beg."

"Please..." she whimpers as you pop the plug out, her hole gaping slightly. "Need your cock in my ass..."

"Not good enough." You spit on her exposed hole and start working one finger in while she squirms. "Be specific. Tell me exactly what you need."

"I need... fuck..." A second finger joins the first, stretching her wider. "Need you to fuck my ass raw... need you to remind me what a slut I am..."

"Keep going." Three fingers now, roughly fucking her loosened hole while she pants and moans. "Tell me how this nerd turned you into such a whore."

"You... ah!... you showed me what I really am..." Her pussy is literally dripping onto the floor as you finger-fuck her ass. "Showed me that I'm just a cockhungry anal slut... please, I need it so bad..."

"Need what?" You curl your fingers, making her gasp.

"Need your fat cock stretching my ass! Need you to fuck me like the worthless whore I am! Please, I'll do anything!" She's practically sobbing now, all traces of her usual attitude gone.

You pull your fingers out and quickly undo your pants, letting your rock hard cock spring free. "Look at yourself in the mirror while I fuck you. I want you to watch yourself break."

Her eyes meet yours in the reflection as you line up with her gaping hole. Without warning you thrust all the way in, making her cry out. The sound echoes off the bathroom walls but you don't care - you need to put this bratty bitch in her place.

"Fuck! So big..." she moans as you establish a brutal pace, watching your cock disappear into her tight asshole over and over. She tries to muffle herself by biting her sleeve but you grab her hair and yank her head up.

"No. I want to hear every slutty sound you make. Let everyone know what a whore you are." You reach around to roughly pinch her nipples through her hoodie. "Who would believe that the tough tomboy loves taking it up the ass?"

"Only... only for you..." she pants, her whole body shaking as you rail her. "You're the only one who gets to use me like this..."

"Damn right." You pull almost all the way out before slamming back in, making her yelp. "This ass belongs to me. I fucking own you."

Your words make her moan even louder. You can see in the mirror how completely wrecked she looks - face flushed, eyes glazed, mouth hanging open as she takes your cock. Such a different sight from her usual cocky expression.

"Touch yourself," you command. "Play with that dripping pussy while I destroy your ass."

She immediately reaches down to rub her clit, her fingers moving frantically. The extra stimulation makes her ass clench around you even tighter. "Gonna... gonna cum soon..."

"Already? Such a slutty response." You increase your pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the bathroom. "Cumming from getting your ass fucked in a public bathroom... what would your friends think if they could see you now?"

"Don't care... fuck... just don't stop!" She's openly crying now, tears of pleasure running down her face as you pound her mercilessly.

You grab her hips hard enough to bruise and really start hammering into her. Each thrust makes her whole body jerk forward, her small tits bouncing under the hoodie. "Come on then, cum for me. Show me what a buttslut you are."

Her orgasm hits hard - her ass spasms around your cock as she practically screams into her sleeve, her legs shaking so bad you have to hold her up. You don't slow down, fucking her through the intense climax.

"Good girl... but we're not done yet." You pull out suddenly, making her whine at the emptiness. "On your knees. Time to remind you what you're good for."

She drops to her knees immediately, looking up at you with those desperate eyes. Your cock is right in her face, still slick from her ass. Without being told, she opens her mouth and sticks out her tongue.

"That's right, taste yourself like the dirty slut you are." You slap your cock against her tongue a few times before shoving it down her throat. She gags but takes it like a champ, months of practice evident in how she relaxes her throat.

You grab her short hair with both hands and start properly facefucking her, using her mouth like a pussy. Tears stream down her face and drool drips from her chin but she doesn't try to pull away. If anything she moans around your cock, clearly loving the rough treatment.

"Look at me while I use your throat," you command. Her eyes lock onto yours, full of submission and need. "Such a good little fucktoy... so different from the bitch who used to bully me..."

She reaches down to play with herself again as you fuck her face, two fingers buried in her soaking pussy while her other hand works her clit. The sight of the former bully masturbating while choking on your cock pushes you closer to the edge.

"Gonna cum... gonna paint that pretty face..." You pull out of her mouth, still gripping her hair. "Stick out your tongue and beg for it."

"Please..." her voice is hoarse from the throat fucking. "Please, babe, cum on my face... mark me as your whore... I need it..."

You stroke yourself rapidly, aiming at her upturned face. "Here it comes slut... take it all..."

Your orgasm hits like a truck, shooting thick ropes of cum all over her face. Some lands on her tongue but most covers her cheeks, nose, and forehead. She moans as you mark her, still frantically fingering herself.

"Don't you dare wipe it off," you pant as the last drops fall onto her lips. "I want you to remember who owns you."

She nods, face completely glazed with your seed. "Yours... all yours..."

You tuck yourself back in while she stays on her knees, cum slowly dripping down her face. "Clean yourself up and get back to class. But leave the plug in - I want your ass ready for round two later."

"Yes sir," she says softly, finally dropping the last pretense of attitude.

As you head for the door, you turn back for one last look. She's still kneeling there, face covered in cum, jeans around her thighs, asshole gaping slightly.

Such a perfect sight.

"Oh and Gaeul?" You smirk as she looks up at you. "Try not to be such a bitch for the rest of the day. Or I'll have to teach you another lesson."

She shivers at the threat, clearly already looking forward to it. "No promises... might need another reminder later."

You leave her there to clean up, already planning how you'll use her next. Who would've thought that all it took to tame the tomboy bully was a good ass fucking?

The bell rings as you head back to class, already getting hard again thinking about round two. Maybe you take her home and fuck her in your bed, or if she can't wait that long, an empty classroom will do just as well.... The possibilities are endless when you have such an eager anal whore at your disposal.

—

Later that week, you're hanging out with friends at the campus coffee shop when Gaeul suggests everyone come to her place to watch something.

—

The movie blares on the TV screen, flickering shadows across the room. Your friends are all sprawled out, zoned in, eyes glued to the action unfolding. But you? You’re only half-paying attention because Gaeul's sitting beside you, her hand resting a little too close, fingers drumming against the couch arm. Every slight touch feels like electricity shooting through your veins.

Then she shifts, stretches out her arms with a feigned yawn. "I'm grabbing something upstairs," she mumbles to the room. No one even looks up. She rises, tossing a quick, knowing glance your way before slipping out. Your cock throbs in your pants as you watch her walk away, her ass moving in those intentionally short shorts.

You count to sixty slowly before making your own excuse.

"Just gonna grab another beer," you say casually. No one even looks up from the TV.

Perfect.

Your heart pounds as you climb the stairs, already imagining how you're going to wreck that tight ass. The door to Gaeul's bedroom is slightly ajar, warm light spilling into the hallway. You open the door slowly and there she is, sitting cross-legged on the bed, waiting for you, her ankle bouncing impatiently.

“I thought you’d never show up,” she says with a smile.

Without wasting any time, you approach and spin Gaeul around and roughly bend her over the edge of the bed, yanking her panties down in one swift motion. Your cock throbs at the sight of her tight little asshole already glistening with lube - this dirty slut came prepared, knowing she was going to get her ass destroyed tonight.

"Fucking horny little whore," you growl, giving her ass a hard slap that makes her yelp. "Already lubed up and ready for my cock. Bet you've been thinking about this all day."

"Please," she whimpers, pushing her ass back toward you. "Need it so bad..."

You unzip your pants and pull out your rock-hard cock, giving it a few slow strokes as you admire her puckered hole. Your free hand spreads her ass cheeks wider, making her squirm with anticipation.

"Beg for it," you command, rubbing your cockhead teasingly against her entrance. "Tell me exactly what you want."

"Fuck, please... need your fat cock in my tight little asshole," she pants desperately. "Want you to stretch me open and wreck my ass while everyone's downstairs. Please fuck me like the anal slut I am!"

You press your thick tip against her hole, watching it start to stretch around your girth. "Such a dirty fucking whore, begging to get ass-fucked with your friends right below us. What would they think if they knew their tough tomboy friend was really just a cock-hungry buttslut?"

Gaeul moans as you start pushing into her impossibly tight hole. The lube helps, but her ass still grips your cock like a vice as you feed more and more of your length into her. You can feel every ridge and fold of her inner walls clinging to your shaft.

"Holy fuck, you're so tight... No matter how many times I ruin your ass, it always looks like virgin territory," you grunt, gripping her hips harder. "That little asshole is squeezing my cock so good."

"More," she gasps, biting down on her pillow to muffle her sounds. "Fill me up, stretch my ass open!"

You continue pushing forward until your balls are pressed against her dripping pussy. Your entire cock is buried in her ass, making her feel completely stuffed and stretched. You hold still for a moment, savoring the incredible tightness.

"That's it, take every inch like a good little anal whore," you growl in her ear, reaching around to roughly grope her small tits. Her nipples are rock hard between your fingers. "Ready to get that ass pounded?"

"Yes! Please fuck me hard," she begs in a desperate whisper. "Wreck my tight hole!"

You pull back until just the tip remains inside, then slam forward balls-deep in one brutal thrust. Gaeul lets out a choked cry into the pillow as you establish a rough rhythm, your cock pistoning in and out of her stretched asshole.

The wet sounds of anal sex fill the room - the obscene squelching of lube, the meaty slap of your balls against her pussy, the muffled moans she can't quite contain. Her whole body rocks with the force of your thrusts as you hammer into her tight hole.

"Fuck yes, take that cock," you grunt, watching your shaft disappear over and over into her gripping asshole. "Love seeing this tight little hole stretch around my fat cock. Such a perfect anal slut."

You grab a handful of her hair and yank her head back, making her arch her spine. The new angle lets you drive even deeper into her ass, hitting spots that make her whole body tremble.

"Harder!" she gasps, pushing back to meet your thrusts. "Fucking destroy my ass, make me your buttslut!"

You respond by increasing your pace, absolutely ravaging her tight hole. Your heavy balls slap against her soaking wet pussy with each thrust. She's so turned on that her juices are running down her thighs.

"Look at you, getting your pussy all wet from taking it in the ass," you taunt, reaching down to rub her swollen clit. "Such a nasty little whore, getting off on having your asshole stretched open."

Gaeul can only whimper and moan in response, completely lost in the pleasure of being used. Her ass grips and pulses around your cock, trying to milk the cum from your balls.

The sound of footsteps in the hallway makes you both freeze. Your cock throbs inside her stretched hole as you hold perfectly still, hardly daring to breathe. The footsteps pause right outside the door.

Your hand clamps over Gaeul's mouth as you stay buried balls-deep in her ass. You can feel her heart pounding, her asshole clenching even tighter around your shaft from the fear of getting caught.

After what feels like an eternity, the footsteps continue past the door and fade away down the hall. As soon as they're gone, you resume fucking her even harder than before, driven wild by the close call.

"Dirty fucking slut, almost got us caught," you growl, punctuating each word with a brutal thrust. "Maybe I should let them catch us, let them see what a cock-hungry anal whore you really are."

She shakes her head frantically but her pussy gushes at the thought, coating your balls in her juices. The way her ass grips you tells you she's getting close to cumming.

"That's it, squeeze that cock with your tight little hole," you grunt, feeling your own orgasm building. "Gonna flood this ass with cum, mark you as my personal buttslut."

Your fingers work her clit faster as you pound her stretched asshole. Gaeul's whole body starts to shake as she approaches her peak. Her inner walls clamp down almost painfully tight around your thrusting cock.

"Cum for me," you command. "Cum with my fat cock buried in your ass like the anal slut you are!"

She explodes around you, her orgasm making her squirt all over the bed as her ass spasms around your shaft. The intense tightness pushes you over the edge and you grunt as your cock swells.

"Take it, take my fucking load," you growl as you empty your balls deep in her ass. Rope after rope of hot cum floods her stretched hole while she continues to shake and moan through her own orgasm.

You keep thrusting through both your climaxes, making obscene squelching sounds as your cum starts leaking out around your cock. Her ass is still rhythmically clenching, milking every last drop from your balls.

When you finally pull out, her gaping asshole immediately starts leaking your thick load. You watch mesmerized as white cum drips down her thighs and pools on the bedspread below.

"Holy fuck," Gaeul pants, collapsing onto the bed. Her hole is still twitching and leaking, thoroughly used and marked as yours. "That was so fucking good..."

You give her ass one slap, admiring the way it makes more cum leak out. "That's what happens to me when you keep teasing me all day long. Get your ass stretched and filled with cum while your friends are right downstairs."

She shivers at your words, reaching back to feel her gaping, cum-filled hole. "My ass is gonna be so sore tomorrow…”

"Yeah, and you love it, don't you?!"

Your cock gives an interested twitch as you watch her finger herself, scooping some of your cum out of her stretched hole. To your surprise and arousal, she brings her cum-covered fingers to her mouth and sucks them clean.

"Dirty fucking slut," you growl, feeling yourself starting to harden again already. "You really can't get enough, can you?"

She grins up at you, still tasting your cum on her tongue. "What can I say? You've turned me into such a whore for your cock. Especially in my ass."

You grab her hair and pull her up for a rough kiss, tasting yourself on her lips. Your rapidly hardening cock presses against her stomach as you devour her mouth.

"Ready for another round already?" she asks breathlessly when you break apart, feeling your erection growing. "Gonna wreck my ass again?"

"Fuck yes," you grunt, spinning her around and pushing her face-down into the mattress. "Gonna use this tight little hole until you can't walk straight tomorrow."

You spread her ass cheeks, admiring how her gaping hole is still leaking your previous load. The sight of your cum dripping from her stretched asshole has you rock hard again in seconds.

"Please," she whimpers, wiggling her hips invitingly. "Fill me up again, use me like your personal anal slut!"

You line your cock up with her cum-lubed hole and push back inside with one smooth thrust. She's still incredibly tight despite being stretched and filled with your load.

"Fuck, love how this greedy little hole just swallows my cock," you growl, starting to pound her ass again. "Such a perfect little anal whore, always ready to take it in the ass."

The mixture of cum and lube makes obscene squelching sounds as you fuck her stretched hole. Your previous load leaks out around your shaft with each thrust, running down her thighs.

"Yes! Use my ass, wreck my tight little hole!" she moans into the pillow. "Love being your anal slut!"

You grab her hips and really start hammering into her, making the bed creak dangerously. Her whole body bounces with the force of your thrusts as you ravage her sensitive hole.

Your balls slap against her dripping pussy, already coated in a mixture of her juices and your leaking cum. The dirty sounds of anal sex fill the room once again.

"Such a nasty little whore," you grunt, reaching around to pinch and twist her hard nipples. "Getting your ass fucked twice while your friends are right downstairs. Bet you love the risk of getting caught, don't you?"

"Yes!" she gasps, pushing back to meet your brutal thrusts. "Love being your secret anal slut, love taking your fat cock in my tight little ass!"

You pull her up by her hair until her back is pressed against your chest, changing the angle of penetration. Your cock drives even deeper into her stretched hole as you fuck up into her.

"That's it, ride this cock like the buttslut you are," you growl in her ear, one hand around her throat. "Show me how badly you need it in your ass."

Gaeul starts bouncing on your cock, working her hips in tight circles that make her ass grip you like a vice. Her small tits bounce with each movement as she impales herself on your shaft.

"Gonna cum again," she whimpers after a few minutes of riding you. "Please make me cum with your cock in my ass!"

You throw her back down onto the bed and really start drilling her stretched hole, pounding her g-spot through her ass wall. Your fingers find her clit again, rubbing quick circles as you ravage her.

"Cum for me, you dirty anal whore," you command. "Cum all over my cock while I wreck this tight little asshole!"

She explodes around you for the second time, her whole body convulsing as she squirts all over the already-soaked bed. Her ass clamps down painfully tight on your thrusting cock.

The incredible tightness pushes you over the edge again. You bury yourself balls-deep in her spasming hole as your cock swells and pulses.

"Take it, take another load in this slutty ass," you grunt as you empty your balls inside her again. Rope after rope of hot cum floods her already-full hole while she continues to shake through her own orgasm.

When you finally pull out, her thoroughly used asshole gapes obscenely, leaking a river of white cum onto the bed. She collapses face-down, completely fucked out and marked as yours.

"Holy fuck," she pants, reaching back to feel her destroyed hole still leaking your loads. "Fuck, I'm gonna be leaking your load all night now."

"Next time I'm gonna make you wear a plug to keep my cum inside you," you tell Gaeul as you lay down next to her, catching your breath. "Make you sit through the whole movie feeling your ass full of my load."

She shivers at the thought, clearly turned on despite being thoroughly fucked out. "Fuck, I don't think I've ever been as naughty as I am with you now...." After a moment, she rolls over to face you with an unusually serious expression. "Hey... I need to tell you something," she says quietly. "I'm getting tired of hiding this. Hiding us."

Your heart skips a beat. "What do you mean?"

"I mean... fuck, this started as just casual sex after you put me in my place that day. But somewhere along the way I actually started having deep feelings for you." She looks away, clearly uncomfortable with the vulnerability. "And I'm sick of pretending I don't."

You're quiet for a long moment, processing this. "I feel the same way," you finally admit. "Have for a while now."

Her eyes snap back to yours. "Really?"

"Really." You pull her closer. "I love how you try to act all tough, but I know what a needy little slut you really are. Love making you fall apart on my cock. But I also just... love being around you. Even when we're not fucking. I love when you laugh at my jokes now, much better than when you pretended not to like them. I always thought your laugh was cute."

A genuine smile spreads across her face - not her usual cocky smirk. "So what do we do about it?"

"Well, we could tell everyone we're dating," you suggest. "No more sneaking around."

"Mmm..." She pretends to consider it. "Or we could keep this our dirty little secret for a while longer. The sneaking around is pretty hot."

You grin and squeeze her ass. "True. Nothing like fucking you with the risk of getting caught."

"Exactly." She kisses you deeply. "Let's give it another month of secret fucking. Then we can go public."

"Deal." You slap her ass playfully. "Now get dressed before they come looking for us."

She quickly pulls her clothes back on, wincing slightly. "I don't know how I'm going to be able to sit in the chair tomorrow in class."

"Good." You zip up your pants. "Something to remember me by while you study."

You head back downstairs first, trying to act casual as you rejoin the group. A few minutes later, Gaeul returns with a bowl of chips like nothing happened.

But you catch her squirming uncomfortably on the couch, feeling your cum leak out of her ass. The secret knowledge of what you just did makes your cock start to stiffen again.

She notices and gives you that familiar smirk. You know you'll be sneaking off to fuck again before the night is over. Maybe this time you'll bend her over the bathroom sink and stuff her pussy full of cock while she tries to stay quiet.

The thought of all the secret hookups to come over the next month has your head spinning. Every stolen moment will be even hotter now that you know there are real feelings involved.

But for now, you focus on the movie and try not to make it obvious that you just railed your friend's ass upstairs.

The perfect crime - except for the cum still dripping down her thighs.

#Gaeul smut #kim gaeul #ive gaeul #kpop male reader #kpop smut #kpop gg #kpop #kpop gg smut #gg smut #smut oneshot #gaeul #gaeul ive #ive smut #dom male reader #kpop m!reader #kpop male oc #m!reader #ive #kpop ive

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necropsi · 2 years ago

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pussy so hot. pussy on fire. pussy infected.

#it’s becuz of these god damned antibiotics i’m on. i was like surely not surely that is bullshit. lo and behold i have a fucking thrush #barks and bites and snaps and growls #and yes sorry i am way too comfortable saying anything on this blog with two followers (whom i love and trust and cherish)

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fanaticsnail · 7 months ago

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Dreaming of You

Masterlist here

Word Count: 470+, 900+, 1,200+, 900+

Synopsis: They couldn't help it. You looked so heavenly in their dreams. The way they had you wrapped around their body as a marionette in their minds, dancing for them as they awoke to sticky blankets when they jolted upright. Their thoughts got the better of them, and they are wracked with guilt. Kid, Killer, Heat

Warnings: wet dreams, gn!reader (penetration-reader!receiving), swearing, masturbation, dub con (Using your image to masturbate to), suggestive content, feelings, all individual 'x reader', headcanons, NSFW, 18+, MDNI.

Notes: This is the Kid-Pirates version of the original Heart-Pirate fic. @jintaka-hane asked for it, @nerium-lil and I needed it. I love these guys. Please read the warnings. Art link.

Tag list: @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @feral-artistry @writingmysanity @gingernut1314 @indydonuts @i-am-vita @mfreedomstuff @carrotsunshine

“Please, don't stop. Don't stop!” You sobbed in desperation, the feeling of his thrusting causing tears to spill from your eyes in ecstacy. You writhed as he sheathed himself deep within your stomach, overcome by his brutal rapidity in using your body to chase his own high.

He tugged at your hair, pounding you from behind while he anchored his chin into your neck. Turning his head, he gnawed at your shoulder with a deep, purple bite, prompting you to cry out his name as he kept bullying that sweet spot deep within you. He tugged harder on your hair, looking into your face from behind and witnessing its contortion in pleasure.

“Please, please,” you whined his name, in a begging chant, “Please cum in me. Use my body for your pleasure. I n-need it.” His eyes rolled back, tightening his hold on your waist and digging his nails into your hair. He immediately barked out a string of curses, spilling his hot cum deep within you with a soft chant of your name.

The contractions of your body fluttering around his throbbing cock prompted him to cry your name and chase his high with more intentional snaps of his hips. His hot spurts splash up within you as he molded your body to the shape of his throbbing cock.

“Nnghm, you f-fucking feel that?” he growled, his brows furrowing as he pressed his hand on your stomach to feel the tip of his cock deep in you, “I’m cumming so fucking deep. I'm-... fuck, hnmh-... I'm cumming.” You mewled for him, throwing your head back on his shoulder and rocked yourself on him.

“Yes. F-Fuck, yes. Keep going,” The spectral, dream-like image of your body crying for him branded itself into his memories. He couldn’t get enough, his eyes glazing over as he witnessed you take his entire, heavy load deep within you.

The yelp of his name, the dopey smile on your lips, and body glistening in a soft dew of pleasure had him chasing your high and over stimulating his thick cock buried within you. He pummeled himself deeper, huffing and panting before feeling a sense of pride at feeling you clench around him as you cum for him.

“Ahh, f-f-fuck,” he barked, shooting the few final spurts of his release into you before the image dissipated and was shrouded in murky shadow.

His eyes snapped open, looking down to his stomach as he witnessed the damp patch of sticky cum deep into his pants. His cock twitched, grinding his knob against his underwear as it began to deflate.

Cringing, he opened the waistband of his pants and growled at the translucent release coating his cock, fluid pooling down his shaft and leaking down his balls. He groans at the sight before falling back and wallowing in self pity.

“Fuck-...”

Eustass Kid

“..-You.” Kid growled, pinching his brow with his right hand before rubbing his eyes and face with his palm, “Fuck you!” He kicked back his bedsheets, springing to his feet and growling all the while.

Aggressively peeling off his pajama pants, he used the coarse material to clean his cock of the remnants of his illusionary desires. He rolled them into a ball and threw them to the other side of the room, snarling at the fact his body betrayed him in such a way.

Grumbling, groaning and pouting, he kicked at the side of his bed and sifted through his clothes to find a fresh pair of pants. He was angry, mostly, at himself; the way his cock decided to take the lead in ushering him through dreams he knew would never be a reality. You were a part of his crew! His job was to lead you, and your role was to trust him enough to follow his orders.

Drawing back over encounters with you on his crew, real and tangible moments you shared together, his frown deepened at the thoughts. Your smile beaming at him, the way you stood in front of him to protect him from harm's way, the way you followed his orders with nothing uttered besides a simple: “Yes, Captain”, the way your back arched when you recoiled tangled ropes.

He halted at that thought, zeroing in on that moment. Your ass. Your perfect ass. His cock twitched in his pants, prompting his right hand to reach down and readjust the angle within the tight fabric.

A sneer found its way to his lips, pouting as he replayed the hazy dream he woke from moments prior. Listening to the way your tongue rolled over his name, the way you so easily sucked his cock deep within your body, the feel of his hand reaching around your stomach to feel the protrusion from within your abdomen externally - he began to grow angry.

You did this to him.

This was your fault.

He began to stomp towards the top deck, knowing that he rostered you on for the night shift in the crows nest to keep watch. Twitching his right hand, he began to buzz the sparks of magnetism to coil around your leather uniform at the metal ring in center of your chest.

Gazing over at the sea, you feel your eyes droop. Your body is overcome with exhaustion after keeping yourself awake through the cryptid hours, a yawn calling to you with a tightness in your chest. As you clamp your lips shut after a lengthy yawn, you feel the tightness in your chest grow, the center of your harness buzzing to life and shaking with static.

“What the-... Ahh!” you exclaim, feeling your body soar through the air and down the top mast towards the angry figure of your Captain. You shriek in shock, your back thumping against the stiff mast as the crackling energy pinned you against the wood.

Eustass Kid stomps his heavy boots over to you, your brows knit in both shock and fury at how he made your body dance within the air so easily with his devil-fruit ability.

“What the fuck is your problem, Captain-?” you attempt to ask, your voice being silenced by a feral, barking growl of your Captain.

“-You’re my problem!” Kid roared, looking down his nose at you and curling back his lips to bare his teeth at you, “Walking around wearing that leather outfit like you're some part of BDSM club!”

“The fuck?” you question him, truly confused as you downturn your lip, “You gave this to me, Sir. It's a part of our uniform? You make all of us wear one!” You bark back at him, sneering up at him.

“Fuck you,” Kid snarled, stepping closer to you and closing the gap between your bodies. You end up more confused, up-turning your lip as you feel your anger more tangible.

“Fuck me?” you snarl, shaking your head, “Fuck you, Sir,” you spat, darting your eyes down his chest to get a read on his posture and body language. “You can't just go around calling people to you when you feel like it! What the fuck is wrong with- Mmmfph!”

Hot lips crash atop yours, Kid's bruising kiss shocking your senses more than the initial spectral grab through the air. His teeth bit at your lips, his roaming right hand snaking around your waist and grasping at your ass in a rough fistful. You cry out in shock as he begins kneading it beneath his palm.

“Fuck-,” Kid muffled against your mouth, tilting his head and dragging his tongue over your lips, “-You.”

Offended, you fight back. You bit his bottom lip, aggressively flicking your tongue into his mouth and wriggling against the buzzed pin of your harness against the wood.

“Fuck you, Captain,” you snarl, gasping into his mouth, and wrapping your legs over his hips to find purchase against them. He drove his hips forward, grinding its clothed, thick cock against your pelvis; his knob already beginning to weep with precum from the moment you reciprocated his advances. You groaned against his lips, still partially in shock as to why your captain was kissing you like this.

Kid refused to allow his dreams to get the better of him, falling victim to its foggy, illusionary composition. Why should he make up some fictitious memory when the real thing was so much better?

Massacre Soldier Killer

Overcome with the sheer embarrassment of his intrusive thoughts, he closed his eyes and took a moment to collect himself.

“Keep going,” the mirage called to him, his hazy form using your body as a muse for pleasure, “Killer, I need you.” He snapped upright, stomping over to his laundry basket and peeled off his sticky pants and underwear. Aggressively thrusting the soiled garments in the hamper, he drew his hands up to his hair and scraped it back with his fingers.

As his fingers met with his hair, he was reminded of the image his mind made of the texture of yours. The thump of your hips meeting his, the ripples of your ass as it slapped back into him, the way your body felt wrapped around his cock: he was haunted by you. He growled, his hands shaking with rage at his mind defiling the image of you and forcing his body to cum.

“You deserve better than this,” Killer whispered aloud, shaking his mask-covered face and scowling at his cock, “The fuck is wrong with me?” He cleaned himself up with a few tissues from his bedside table before shrugging his pants over his hips and making his way to the bathroom.

He saw a light reflected in the basin and vanity of the small bathroom, watching as your hunched figure bent itself over the sink and washed your face. You had a soft wiggle in your movements, humming as you shook your hips and splashed water on your face.

Frozen in place, he had never been more thankful to be wearing a mask. He shamelessly raked his eyes over the curvature of your ass, watching as you arched your back to gaze at your reflection. Focussing on ridding the night off your features and waking yourself up, you didn't notice him standing behind you.

Transfixed by your gentle hum, he couldn't bring himself to scold his rapidly buzzing thoughts at what you looked beneath your pajamas. The prior dream and lustful visions had his cock twitch beneath his pants. You finally noticed his presence beside you, calling out your greeting to him and asking your question.

“Killer, can you fuck me, please? I need to know how your body tightens as you paint my insides with your sticky cum. I need it, please.”

Killer snapped his eyes up to your face, noticing you cock your head to the side with a puzzled expression. His body tightened, tensing his muscles as he gulped back a large, dry lump; his Adam's apple bobbing at the thought.

“Wanna run that by me again?” Killer asked, stuttering over the words. You smile warmly at him, briefly examining his body.

“I said: ‘Morning, Killer. Can you pass me that towel please? I kinda need it to dry my face’,” you giggle, gesturing to the towel beside him with your index finger. He hastily rustled the towel into his hands and thrust it out in front of him. You express your gratitude with a soft nod of your head, swiping at your face to dry it.

You take a moment to study him, noticing the tension in his chest and subtle shake in his hands. His body remained stationary, staring at you as you attempted to get a read on him.

“Did you want the basin?” you ask him, no response being met with your question. Killer deeply inhaled, exhaling with a soft sigh of deep mourning. “Kil? You okay? Rough night?” He snapped out of it, gazing at you through the holes in his mask and smiling softly.

“I feel like I should apologize to you,” Killer confessed, reaching out his hands to take your towel and hanging it on your allocated hook. “Look, I-...” he trailed off, shaking his head and clicking his tongue, “...I had a dream about you, and it didn't put you in a good position. I feel like I should apologize to you for it.”

“Oh? What do you mean? What position?” your brows knit together, looking at him with confusion, “Were we fighting or something? Hah! Did I win?” He took a moment to step forward, offering his hands up in defense.

His silence has you concerned, looking down at him before your eyes widened in shock. Killer was admitting he had a dream about fucking you.

“O-Oh…” you exclaimed in shock before your lips curled into a light smirk, “Ohh, that kind of dream…” Stepping forward, you gently jab at him with your index finger with a loud, teasing laugh. “And how was I, big guy?” you teased him, grinning a winning smile and biting your tongue playfully at him, “Did you finish? Did I finish?” He remained silent and crossed his arms over his chest, prompting you to squeal out a choked laugh.

“Oh shit, did you-...” your eyes snapped down to his pants before gazing back into the holes in the mask where his eyes would be, “...Did you actually finish? Like, in the dream, and outside of it?” your smile widened, a soft blush growing on your face as he remained silent and stoic.

“Oh, Killer!” you laughed, clapping your arms around his biceps and giving him a gentle hug with a light laugh, “It's fine. Honest! No judgment from me” you break from the embrace to glance up at him. “Sometimes our minds just run away with us. Enjoy the show. I’m flattered, truly.”

He couldn't help but be in awe of your response, watching as you turned back around and began fixing your hair in the reflection. You began humming your song again, attempting to ignore the rising flutters in your chest at the notion that somewhere, deep beneath the muscular exterior of Killer’s extremely built body, the first-mate had a soft spot for you.

“You forgive me, then?” Killer asked softly, unfolding his arms and hanging them by his side.

“There's really nothing to forgive, but if you think you need it, sure. I forgive you, big guy,” you suggested, getting frustrated at yourself as your hair decided to become uncooperative, “Can help me with my damn hair, and then tell me all about it? In graphic detail? I gotta know what you had me do in your dreams.” Laughing at your own response, your smile was wiped from your face as Killer grabbed a rough fistful of your hair.

He arched you back, feeling your body meet with his chest as he held your hair. His grip was tight enough to halt your motion, but loose enough to not harm you. You let out a soft squeak of shock, eyes widening as you stared at him in the reflection. His other arm snaked around your hips, holding you flush against him.

“Tell you?” he whispered into your ear, tugging your hair to have your head lull back against his shoulder, “Why do that when I can show you?” He nuzzled his head into your neck, freezing before flinching away to check in, “That is, if this is something that you want?”

You blink back your shock, gawking at the position he had you in. Your mind raced a thousand ways a second as you darted your eyes over his hold on you. You whisper quietly, eyes wide and innocent while your curiosity peaks.

“Yes, please.”

Heat

Heat growls at himself, thrusting his left hand into his tangled head of lengthy bed hair before slumping back down into the mattress. Scarred lips quirk down at the corners, his mouth pouting as he contemplates over what just happened.

His crewman, his confidante, his friend: you. He had conjured up an astral projection within his slumber of you writhing on his cock as he thrust deep, languid movements up into your body. The feeling of your spectral image wrapped around his thick shaft, the way you shook like a leaf around him the moment you came undone; it was all enough to spark a new round of inspiration to ignite within his cock.

He reached down into his pants, wrapping his underwear around his already half-hard cock and began grinding the slippery material down over his shaft. The shame he felt was eclipsed by the way your voice haunted him, the way you poured his name over your lips.

“Heat,” he heard you within his mind's eye, “Fuck me, Heat. I need you. Please fuck me.” He whimpered, drawing up the covers to his lips and biting down on the thick blanket. Scrunching his eyes shut, he began thrusting his hips up to meet with his pistoning cock in his palm.

He whispered your name, groaning as his tongue brushed with the duvet. He rolled within the bed, keeping the blankets within his clamped teeth as he began bucking into his hand. Although he took you from behind in his dream, he was picturing your face in his mind.

The way you'd hang your mouth to form a perfect “O” when you came, the way your thighs would quake as your body tingled with the first contraction of your orgasm, the way he would be able to see the deep bulge within your stomach considering the size difference between you. He huffed, panting your name as he heard what you'd say when you came undone.

“Heat, I-I’m gonna cum,” he screwed his eyes shut, tongue flicking out over the blanket as he continued to chase his high, “Please let me. I n-need to. Please let me cum on your cock.” He allowed his mind to get the best of him, picturing exactly how your toes would curl behind his back.

“Y-You like that?” he whispered your name, “You like the way my cock feels deep inside you?” His whisper and huffed pants of your name echoed in his private quarters, his solitude in this moment being his only comfort.

Giving himself permission to use your name while he pleasures himself, he came to terms with the way he felt about you. To him, you were perfect. You were the person for him: his favorite person. The person he wants to come to bed with after a long day to snuggle - to fuck into his mattress, and to ruin for any other partner due to how well he would seek to please you.

“Oh, fuck,” he whispered your name, screwing his eyes shut tighter and feeling the soft prick of tears at the corners of his eyes, “You wanna cum? Wanna cum with me?” He doubled down his efforts, “You want my cum? I'll fucking fill you up.”

He groaned a final call of your name, rutting into his hand deep against the mattress and painting the inside of his underwear with thick spurts of scorching cum.

“I-I'm cumming,” he cried your name, whimpering and growling it like an animal in heat while staggering his thrusts into his hand, “Oh, I'm cumming for you.”

After riding his palm coming down from his high, he immediately felt an overwhelming sense of guilt and shame at the fact he used your image to chase his release into his hand. His blush deepens, his disgust growing as he feels the sticky pool seeping through his underwear and into his pajama pants.

Hastily springing to his feet, he kicked off the pants to avoid more of a spill and grimaced as he peeled off his underwear. Folding the material in half, he used it to clean the rest of his shaft before tossing them into a hamper beside his bed. He redrew up the pajama pants over his hips and walked over to his door, collecting his bathroom supplies as he prepared himself for a proper shower to wake himself up.

As he opened his door, he was met with a statuesque figure of a fist balled at his chest height and intending to knock. His eyes widened, looking down to see your widened eyes and deep flush coating your face in several shades darker than your original hue.

His own face immediately flushed with blood, his cheeks darkening to a deep purple color the moment he saw your face. Your fist shook lightly, your lips parted and your eyes slowly blinked.

You had just caught Heat masturbating, and he had whispered your name while he came. Without truly a clue as to what to do with this information, you gulped back a dry mouthful and stated your purpose.

“Captain sent me to get you to come on watch-shift with me in the next twenty,” you managed to choke out, avoiding eye contact with Heat as his shock drew further up his face, “I made us breakfast-.”

Heat immediately slammed his bedroom door in your face, turning on his heels and throwing his hand up to cover his eyes in shame. He yelled into his palm, stifling the sound as his embarrassment and shame washed over his body in a cold, icy wave.

This was going to be one very long, very awkward, and very tense shift.

#one piece #x reader #one piece smut #kid pirates #kid pirates smut #eustass kid #massacre soldier killer #one piece heat #op kid #op killer #op heat #kid x reader #killer x reader #heat x reader #gn!reader #one piece gn!reader smut

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ddejavvu · 1 day ago

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so i absolutely love the best friend james potter fic where he warms his hands between the reader’s thighs and the idea of him having really bad circulation just makes sense to me, so can we get a technically kinda part two but instead of between the readers thighs it’s that portion of underboob that just heats up so much for no reason whatsoever? 🙇🙇🙇

Sirius's canine form requires him to get at least twelve hours of outdoor time per week, but during the winter months it becomes a chore delegated to the least lucky of the group: take Padfoot for a walk.

"Please, Jamie?" You'd leveled James with puppy eyes that rivalled Sirius himself, and now two sets of footprints lay in the snow beside pawprints that wind around them in happy trails.

"It's bloody cold out here." James comments, like your own nose isn't burning from the temperature, "Sirius, can't you piss on trees faster?"

Padfoot, who greatly resents the tree-pissing stereotype, takes a snapping lunge at James's ankles that sends him careening into you from your left.

"James!" You shriek as your feet and his knock clumsily together, all four united in trying to stabilize you. His arm wraps around your waist and he finds his footing first, which means that you're supported by his grip as you find your own. You find yourself inches away from his face, his nose stained red akin to his cheeks as you both laugh at how you've ended up pinned to a tree in the forest. Sirius barks at you, sounding suspiciously giddy, and James drags his hands off of your back, trailing them over your stomach as he goes.

"Gonna put a muzzle on you for that one, mutt." James threatens Sirius, who dashes off to find a stick or lick a toad or whatever else his dog brain fancies at the moment. You're left trailing beside James once again, wishing that you had your own stick to drag through the snow.

"You were really warm," James reminisces, his hands surely going numb, "Like- your stomach?"

"It's my boobs," You snicker, "No matter how cold a girl gets, the space beneath her tits will always be warm."

"Really?" James peers curiously at you, "That's cool. It's like a life hack."

"Right. It's-" You stick a hand guilelessly beneath your shirt, nestling it beneath the curve of your bra, "It's not, like, sweaty or anything. Just warm."

"Fascinating." James pushes his glasses up his nose with a single outstretched finger, "Wish I had some of those."

"You can borrow mine," You concede, taking James's hand in your own and sliding it up your stomach until his hand is leeching off of the same warmth you'd felt only seconds prior, "Feel it?"

His jaw drops, one of his unruly curls bouncing stubbornly in front of his face.

"Darling, you weren't kidding! It's like an oven in here." He hums, his other hand greedily reaching for the excess space beneath your chest, "Oh my god, if I had this I'd never stop touching it."

When Padfoot returns it's to James pressing you against another tree, hands pressed firmly to the space beneath your tits. He charges for James determinedly, latching his teeth around the man's elbow and pulling with all of his might to separate his friend from you.

"Pads- ouch! She's- relax, Fido, she's let me. I'm warming my hands, thank you very much."

James manages to pry Padfoot's maw off of him, hissing at the skin surely bruised beneath his thick wool coat.

"It's alright, Sirius." You rub sweetly between the dog's ears, "His hands were cold, that's all. Don't want to bring him back to the castle with less than ten fingers."

Sirius's resulting growl towards James sounds suspiciously like he's going to lose fingers anyways, whether it be from frostbite or a dog's bite.

#james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter scenario #james potter oneshot #james potter one shot #james potter one-shot #james potter headcanon #james potter headcanons #james potter hc #james potter hcs #james potter fanfiction #james potter fanfic #james potter fic #james potter blurb #james potter drabble #james potter dialogue #james potter fluff #james potter x reader fanfiction

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crushmeeren · 2 months ago

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࿐ second part of installment number one for my kinktober series! enjoy my little bats! click here for Bakugou’s version.

࿐ Good fucking lord, this is much longer than I intended it to be, but it’s worth the read, I promise.

࿐ master list link ⇢ ⇢ ⇢ ⇢ ⋆ FEM READER ⋆

⋆ ⬪ KINKS INCLUDED ࿐ knotting, breeding, scent kink, biting/marking, fighting as foreplay, a/b/o dynamics, mentions of blood, slightly possessive behavior by Hoshina.

┊ ༝ ᭝ ༝ short summary ༝ ᭝ ༝ ┊ ‣ ‣ ‣ ‣ Mating runs are boring and common where you come from. You’ve taken part in more than you can count, yet no one has been able to catch you and the thrill’s worn off. You’re on the verge of giving up completely when someone new joins your pack. It startles you when you realize that you’re about to be in for the mating run of your life.

⇣ ⇣ ༄ ⇣ ⇣ ⇣ ༄ ⇣ ⇣

You often speak to the moon, but she never talks back.

You let out another long, spiritless howl. Hoping for some kind of answer as to why you’re here in the middle of another mating run where nobody seems capable of catching you. At this point, you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve been pursued. Yet no alpha is up to your caliber.

Sure, your pack mates tease you for your high standards, but you’re confident in who you are and what you want. How could you be expected to settle for somebody less than what you deserve? No run of the mill wolf is what you’re searching for. You huff in frustration, seeing as how it’s the closest thing you can muster to a sigh while you’re covered in thick fur.

Shifting your weight from paw to paw, you stare up at the full moon, enthralled by the beauty of it as you debate whether or not to leave your peaceful resting spot here by the creek.

You’re on the verge of throwing in the towel and returning to the starting site when the crunch of a branch nearby catches your attention. Your ears twitch, perking up fully at the noise. The soft padding of sneaky paws cut through the babbling of the water, a strong smell of freshly fallen rain and bergamot hitting your nose.

Reno, you recognize, tail beginning to swish happily. Your long time friend has made somewhat of a ritual out of seeking you out at the end of a mating run. Usually it’s when you come home, meeting you halfway as a wolf to help you blow off steam by wrestling.

This time though, Reno isn’t participating in a run and he isn’t waiting near the town for you. He’s just recently joined the pack’s patrol, and Narumi has trusted him with the responsibility of keeping an eye on your territory while many wolves are otherwise occupied during the run.

You turn your focus to the tree line and bark happily when a large snowy white wolf breaks through. You raise to all fours, bounding over to the wolf you consider a brother. Once you get closer, Reno drops his front half to the floor, spine curving and displaying his desire to rough house. He growls playfully, sneezing once or twice to show he intends no harm.

You respond in kind, slowly stalking towards him and you lower your head between your shoulders. You both freeze as you creep up right beside him. It’s tense for a few seconds and then the two of you are snapping half heartedly at each other’s muzzles. You nip teasingly at his scruff before backing off a few steps and lifting your paw to strike his shoulder.

Reno rumbles in irritation, launching himself forward and erasing the few feet that remains between you. You collide roughly and the force sends you both tumbling to the floor. Reno manages to get his teeth into your shoulder, trying to get you to admit defeat. You use all four of your legs to kick at him, hind paws digging into a sensitive area on his ribs and he releases you with a yelp.

You roll away and stand abruptly, not wasting a second before pouncing on him and forcing him onto his back. You lock your jaws around his throat and apply enough pressure to pin him in place. He squirms petulantly, but a warning growl from you has him giving up with a whine that reminds you of a tea kettle going off. Reno slumps and bares his vulnerable belly.

You pull away, panting to catch your breath and lean down to lick his cheek affectionately. You start to nibble gently at the side of his face to convey that you’re glad to see him. Reno licks your muzzle a few times and then rolls to get out from underneath you, opting to plop down into a seated position instead.

You’re about to shift back to speak with him in person when an ear splitting, agonized howl cuts through the happy atmosphere you’d been basking in.

A chilly shot of adrenaline spikes your blood, causing your heart to thunder against your rib cage. Reno’s eyes are wide and alert when you turn to him in alarm.

He’s sprinting in the direction of the howl at a break neck pace before you can blink, kicking up dirt as he goes. The hair on the back of your neck stands up, chest clenching tight with fear as Reno disappears from sight.

Your strong survival instinct pushes you to start racing back towards town, not keen on sticking around to see what kind of situation would result in a noise as gut wrenching as the one you heard.

Your steps falter when you recall just how distraught the unknown wolf sounded, almost as if you could feel the desperation in it. The echo of it replays in your mind for the entirety of your run.

⇣ ⇣ ⇣

It’s chaotic once you arrive.

You reach the clearing where all mating runs begin, noticing several other pack members have started to return, forced to cut their nights short as well. The mounting tension in the air causes you to shift too quickly, joints protesting loudly as you rush through it.

Your night vision allows you to locate the robe you’d left behind, finding it crumpled in a small pile near the tree line. Anxiously you tug it over your shoulder and tie the belt, searching the area until your gaze lands on the familiar mess of hair that belongs to your other dear friend, Narumi Gen.

“Gen!”

The man’s head whips around, eyes widening when he realizes who’s calling for him. Narumi stalks towards you, face pinched in anger out of reflex and concealing the concern that’s simmering just below the surface.

“Are you alright?” Narumi places a heavy hand on your shoulder, scanning your body to check for any obvious signs of injury.

You nod, gripping the hems of your sleeves. “I’m fine, but Reno is still out there.”

Narumi curses loudly, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezes his eyes shut. They flash open seemingly even more furious than before.

“Goddammit, I told that fuckin’ pup to wait and call out for us if he came across a shitstorm. I knew I shouldn’t have assigned him to patrol tonight!”

As the leader of your packs defense, he’s responsible for everyone on his team, and Reno hasn’t been a part of it for long. He’s younger than you both, still wet behind the ears when it comes to situations like this, and Narumi’s clear desperation about Reno makes panic start to well up in the back of your throat.

“What the hell is going on out there Gen? You’ve got to go get him!” Your adrenaline turns up another notch and now you’re unable to stand still, fingers curling and uncurling restlessly at your sides.

Narumi’s expression turns stormy, jaw clenching when he glances at the forest. “I’m heading out there now with Kafka and some of the others. Someone out there was calling out for help, but we don’t know if it’s real or if there’s rogues nearby trying to sneak in under our noses. Go back to town, I’ll bring Reno home.”

Your gut twists sourly at the thought of leaving Reno out there while you sit in the safety of your home. You’re aware you would be useless in battle, but you have a decent amount of medical knowledge stored in your mind. At least enough to be able to tell whether someone could be helped in the field or if they need to be taken straight to your mother. She is the town’s doctor, after all.

“No, no fucking way Gen. I’m waiting here for you. I’ll be able to help if he’s hurt.”

Narumi sneers, obviously wanting to argue, but then Kafka calls out frantically for him to hurry and he knows he can’t waste anymore time fighting.

“Fine. Plant your stubborn ass right here and wait. Don’t move a fuckin’ muscle.”

You roll your eyes, but you slip your arms around his waist in a hug anyways. “Be careful Gen.”

Narumi’s reply is to hug you back a tad tighter.

Then he’s vanishing, shifting as he turns into a massive black and white wolf, confidently leading the others to where Reno must be waiting.

⇣ ⇣ ⇣

You wait.

And wait.

And wait some fucking more.

The sun starts breaking over the horizon when you finally catch the familiar scents of your pack mates. Reno’s rain mixed with bergamot and Narumi’s spicy cinnamon stand out the most.

Your shoulders sag with relief, too distracted by the fact that maybe your friends are okay to realize there’s an unfamiliar hint of vanilla and honey mixed amongst them. Not too mention the metallic tang of blood is overpowering close to everything else. The scent is so strong your spine stiffens and your stomach rolls.

“What if Reno was hurt?”

“What if it’s coming from Gen or Kafka?”

Some of your fear is abated when the three step into sight, but your head jerks in surprise when you notice Reno is carrying a naked man. One who must be a stranger because you’ve never seen him before.

And he currently is more wound than person.

You scramble to your feet and rush over to meet them halfway. The dark purple haired man is unconscious in Reno’s arms, and your brain freezes when you take note of the gaping laceration that stretches vertically down the middle of his sternum. It looks like someone tried to rip his heart out, and the thought makes you sick.

Thankfully, whoever did this, doesn’t seem to have cut deep enough to kill him. You’re fairly certain it’s only a layer of muscle that’s exposed, no vital organs or bones. You glance over the rest of his body to assess all his injuries.

Scratches cover his upper chest, his neck and his arms. There’s a steadily bleeding gash that cuts straight through his left eyebrow and you think one of his ribs is broken. His right eye is swollen shut, and there’s a split in his lower lip. He seems to be unscathed below the waist.

You can figure out how this happened to him later, but he desperately needs much more medical attention than you currently can provide.

“Get him to my mother, now. I’ll run ahead to warn her.”

Reno nods once, and before anyone else speaks you turn and sprint in the direction of your town. It’s takes at least ten minutes when you’re running at a decent pace, but you make it there in five. You burst through the clinic door, unintentionally scaring your mother and making her jump about a foot into the air.

You frantically explain everything that’s happened, doing your very best to describe all the injuries to her with your limited knowledge of medical terms. Her expression shifts into something you only see when she’s working life or death situations, and she immediately instructs you on what to get ready for the strangers arrival.

Reno rushes in shortly after, carefully placing the wolf on the cot your mother instructs him to use. It’s all a blur, but you watch her work a miracle, as she normally does, and help to the best of your ability.

Each time you take in the sight of the strangers badly beaten up face, your heart clenches in a way you’ve never experienced before.

And for the life of you, you can’t figure out why.

⇣ ⇣ ⇣

Once again, you find yourself waiting. It’s as much of a nightmare now as it had been earlier.

You’d been shoved out the door and into the waiting area as soon as your father had turned up to help. You’d struggled not to protest it, an overwhelming urge to protect, to help him screaming at the rational side of your brain.

But you’d forced yourself to obey and sat outside chewing on your fingernails for what seemed like days. The only time you’d convinced yourself to leave was to run home to find a pair of sweats and a t-shirt to cover up with.

Anyone who’d come in to try and sneak a glimpse of the newcomer was abruptly shooed away by you. Of course, you’d helped the ones who needed actual simple medical attention. Now you’ve taken up space in one of the waiting chairs, gnawing on your bottom lip while you stare at the floor lost in thought.

The door to the back creaks open slowly, revealing your mother and you shoot to your feet already halfway to her before she’s able to get two words out.

“Is he alright? Has he woken up? What happened to him?” Your rapid fire questions have your mother smiling comfortingly. She gives you a reassuring squeeze on the arm, turning to walk back through the door without checking to see if you’re following.

“Take a deep breath honey, he’s going to be just fine. The laceration to his chest was the worst of it, and we managed to stop the bleeding and stitch him up. Since the broken rib didn’t pierce his lung, it will have to heal on its own. We cleaned the rest of his wounds but he hasn’t woken up since. The severity of it all has taken it’s toll on him.”

Words fail you as she fills in the blanks for you, a fierce sense of relief uncurling your shoulders when she confirms he’ll be okay. You trail behind as you enter the room, eyes landing on the still unconscious form of the stranger. You notice a soft pair of athletic shorts peaking out of the blanket that’s been pulled up to his waist. At least he’s got clothes on now.

The closer you get the more it shocks you to find there was a strikingly handsome face hiding underneath all the blood. You try to ignore the swarm of butterflies in your gut and focus on the present. You shake your head softly to yourself. You don’t even know this man’s name, or if he’s dangerous.

“When he will wake up?”

Before you realize what you’re doing, your fingers have moved on their own to delicately trace the stitches that decorate his eyebrow. You snatch your hand back as if you were burned when you catch yourself, face blazing.

If your mother notices the uncharacteristic moment, she doesn’t comment on it.

“I’m not sure baby, it’s only been a few hours. Let’s give him some time before we jump to any conclusions. Assuming he’s also a wolf, his regeneration should kick in soon and speed up the recovery process. With that being said, be careful when you’re here. If he wakes up, come get somebody so you aren’t alone. At least until we learn his intentions.”

You swallow drily, lips pressing into a line as she leaves to go gather more bandages.

Your mother had said when you’re here, not if. As though she has no doubt about finding you rooted to his side.

You pull a chair up next to his bed and settle in to wait.

⇣ ⇣ ⇣

Your mother was right.

The next few days sees you spending almost all of your free time in the clinic. You’d taken to washing the stranger’s hair, cleaning his face and changing his bandages a few times a day.

He appears to be healing well, according to your mother. The scratches have begun fading to faint pink lines and the laceration down his sternum has lost it’s stitches, already scabbing over nicely.

Reno had visited the first day and you’d hugged him tight, playfully bumping your forehead with his as you tell him what an idiot he was for going out there alone. He only laughs, returning the hug just as tightly.

He let you know that he hadn’t gotten any more information than you because the stranger was already knocked out cold when he showed up. Narumi had appeared not long after, chewing him out and ordering him to watch the guy while he and Kafka searched the area.

They’d come up with nothing but a scent trail that ended at the edge of your territory. They chose not to go any further in case the threat had moved closer to town.

Even as the puzzle remained a mystery, you continued to care for the unfairly attractive man. A sick sense of self satisfaction continuing to build inside you as you watched him heal with your help.

Narumi stopped by on the third day, eyeing the sleeping stranger wearily before you hugged him the same way you had done to Reno. He’d laughed and reminded you that “nothing could take him down.” Narumi wasn’t able to offer much else in terms of information either, but he did make you promise to find him once the stranger woke up.

The next morning you arrive bright and early to check over the man you’ve oddly become attached to. You carefully carry a sterile bowl filled with warm water and a wash cloth over to his cot, ringing it out and sitting next to him to clean his face like you normally do when he starts to stir lightly.

Your heart skips a beat, and you freeze with your hand hovering mid air as he groans softly, eyes fluttering open just enough to allow you to see purple irises. His confused gaze lands on you, squinting as he focuses intently.

“Where am I?” He asks, voice hoarse from spending so long silent. You blink a few times, recovering and bringing your hand back to your lap. You try to calm your racing pulse.

“You’re safe, you’re in my town’s clinic. One of my pack mates found you in the forest after you’d been knocked out.”

“Oh.” He pauses. “I thought I was in heaven.”

You tilt your head, thoroughly confused. “You thought…. what?”

“In heaven,” he says as if it’s obvious. “Ya know, because you must be an angel.” The silence that stretches between you is borderline deafening as you process what he’s saying.

Is he… joking? At a time like this?

Your question is answered when he’s no longer able to hold in his laughter, sending himself into a wheezing coughing fit and you start to giggle from the sheer ridiculousness of the situation.

The man settles back down with a wince, eyes widening and fingers reaching down briefly to trace the new, large scab on his sternum. You study him curiously, giving him time to process. He rests his head back on the pillow, shifting to stare at you serenely.

You wonder if he’s a bit insane to be so calm waking up in a foreign place, surrounded by strangers.

“I’m Soshiro, Hoshina Soshiro,” he croaks.

Soshiro, you think, testing how it sounds in your head. You like it a bit too much. You let your gaze trace the sharp features of his jaw, the ironically cat like slope of his eyes and he smiles just enough to show off his canines. A low heat slams into your belly, slithering up the back of your neck and burning the tips of your ears.

He raises his good eyebrow and waits for your response, prompting you to clear your throat and glance at the floor awkwardly before providing him with your name.

Once Soshiro assures you he won’t go anywhere, you run to the training area to fetch Narumi just as you promised and stop to alert your mother as well.

The three of you, and your pack leader Mina, gather around his bed as Narumi interrogates him a bit too harshly for your taste. You glare at Narumi but he ignores you. Not that it matters, because Soshiro answers all his questions with an easy smile. You notice then that Soshiro squints quite often, eyes only open wide when he’s serious.

His pretty purple eyes are on display now, somber as he lays out all the details of what he can remember from being attacked. You have to look away from the intensity of his stare when he glances at you. Soshiro’s vanilla honey sent sours as he speaks, and suddenly you’re aching to do anything in your power to make him smell sweet again.

Soshiro reluctantly admits to being the alpha and leader of a rogue pack. But he assures that they were only rogues because they had nowhere else to turn so they ended up sticking together. There were only four them, and they were just passing through the area when things rapidly went south.

They’d stumbled across a group of about eight other rogues who were dead set on not allowing them to pass by peacefully. Soshiro’s the one who took on eight wolves, by himself, so his pack mates could escape.

He’d been distracted for a split second and that’s all it took for one of the rogue wolves to land a solid hit on him. A different one tore into his chest and that’s when he instinctively let out a howl that cried for help. He assumes hearing Reno’s approach is what scared them off, but he’s unsure because he passed out from blood loss at that point.

Soshiro’s face screams exhausted once he’s finished retelling the story, and your mother takes it upon herself to cut off the questioning and demand everyone allow him to rest. Mina pulls your mother away and speaks to her quietly in another room, and Narumi leaves with a stone cold expression and not another word.

You, however, remain in place.

Soshiro’s frowning softly, brows pinched together in concentration as he stares out the window. His hands clench into fists at his sides and you act impulsively.

Gingerly, as if trying to avoid spooking an animal, you uncurl his hand and lace your fingers together. You concentrate on pushing out your own scent and purr when his features smooth out. His lips tug into a grateful smile and he squeezes your hand, thumb running over your knuckles.

You may not know much about Soshiro yet, but something you are certain of, is that he’s strong. He’s brave. He’s selfless and bubbly and he put his life on the line so his pack mates could have a chance to live.

You may have finally found someone worthy of being your mate.

And it excites you like no other.

⇣ ⇣ ⇣

It takes close to a full month for Soshiro to completely recover.

You’d occupied nearly all his time during it though, not that he was complaining. By week two you even had him up and out of bed, taking him on a tour to learn the town and meet some of the others. Soshiro, you find, is incredibly playful and quite friendly. You find it endearing just how well liked he’s become.

Your pack leader Mina has even stopped by the clinic a few times, offering him a place in your pack in exchange for joining Narumi’s squad. She says it’s because we need as many skilled members for protection as possible, but you have a sneaking suspicion she’s got a soft spot for Soshiro due to his situation. She’d suffered something similar in the past.

You selfishly cross your fingers that he’ll agree to stay even if it means he’ll have to give up his old pack in order to do so. It wasn’t difficult for you to come to the conclusion that you have feelings for the man, but you’ve decided to keep your cards close to your chest for now.

All in all, Soshiro’s healthy again, and that matters first and foremost to you. A scar on his eyebrow and one that stretches the length of his sternum are thankfully all that remains as evidence of his attack.

The day after he’s officially released, Soshiro requests you bring him to the place where Narumi trains his squad. You’d brought him by there multiple times before on your walks and he’d always had this longing, wistful expression as he watched them spar.

The two of you stroll towards Soshiro’s desired location, even if you’re a bit weary about it, and you happily listen to Soshiro chatter along the way.

“I bet I can beat Narumi,” Soshiro says out of nowhere, his scent reeking of confidence. You stare at him as if he’s grown two heads.

“As in, win a sparing match against him?”

“Exactly!” Soshiro grins brightly at you and the warmth of it infects you enough that you can’t help but smile back.

“What makes you say that? Not that I’m doubting your skills, but Narumi has always been one of the strongest members of our pack.”

Soshiro taps his chin in fake contemplation, humming playfully. “I guess you’ll just have to see and find out. After all, I’ll be fighting to impress someone.”

Heat burrows into your cheeks and hopeful butterflies flood your stomach at the implication in his words. Unsure of how to respond, you nod, biting the inside of your cheek. When you risk a glance at Soshiro, he’s already staring at you, the corners of his squinty eyes crinkling even more as his smile grows.

As you continue to walk you stare straight ahead, and somehow you muster up enough confidence to intertwine your hand with Soshiro’s. His scent turns even sweeter, and his chest rumbles with satisfaction.

⇣ ⇣ ⇣

Much to Soshiro’s dismay, Narumi wasn’t in the training area.

However, you did get the pleasure of seeing him put Kafka and Reno on their backs, several times. It settled something inside you that had been agitated for quite some time.

In your eyes, Soshiro is the strongest. Even without beating Narumi in a fight.

Another couple months pass by swiftly and Soshiro has made quite the place for himself within your pack. He’s adjusted impressively well. Narumi has, much to his reluctance, even made Soshiro his second in command. That was mostly due to Mina’s insistence though. There’s some sort of strange rivalry between Soshiro and Narumi that you don’t understand, but it’s friendly enough.

You spend an ungodly amount of time with Soshiro, and the more you’re together the more you’re certain he’s the one you want. The two of you haven’t said the words aloud, but you can tell he wants the same.

Currently, you find yourself lounging on his couch, sprawled between his legs like a lazy cat and pillowing your head on his firm chest. You’ve got a hand pushed up under his t-shirt, fingers rhythmically tracing the scar on his sternum.

A movie plays in the background, but you’re entirely fixated on the way Soshiro’s warm chest rises and falls gently with each breath he takes. The slow, steady sound of his heartbeat lures you closer to taking a nap.

Soshiro’s honey vanilla scent clouds the air and it doesn’t help you stay awake in the slightest. His slender fingers card through your hair, pausing to affectionately scratch near the base of your skull and you vibrate with a satisfied purr. The thick sensation of contentment is what you blame for loosening your tongue.

You mumble softly. “Soshiro?”

“Mm?” He replies sleepily.

“Are you going to catch me?”

Soshiro doesn’t miss a beat, sliding his hand down to possessively cup the back of your neck, thumb digging into the muscle under your jaw.

“Oh baby,” he starts sweetly. “I’ve already caught you. But, if you mean to ask am I going to hunt you down? Am I going to pin you to the forest floor and make you present for me like the good omega I know you are?” He squeezes your neck once. “Am I going to have my way with you and knot you? Scar your pretty little neck with my bite?” He trails the pads of his fingers over the side of your throat. “I’m offended you even have to ask.”

You shove your burning face into his chest, voice muffled by his shirt. “What makes you think you’ll get to me first?”

The nonchalant way Soshiro speaks causes goosebumps to cover your arms, as if there’s not a single chance he won’t be the one to catch you.

“Ah, well that’s because I’ll rip whoever else tries to shreds.” He tangles his fingers through the hair on the back of your skull and pulls until you’re forced to lift your head and see him. His eyes are wide open, dark gaze solely focused on you. “Seems like a good plan, right?”

You try to nod, hair still caught in his fist. Soshiro drags you up for a kiss and you think you might tear someone apart if it means Soshiro wins you in the end.

⇣ ⇣ ⇣

“Omegas! As always, you have five minutes to create some distance before the Alphas follow. Your individual run ends when you’re caught or once the sun rises, everyone understand?”

A quiet murmur of confirmation trickles through the crowd as Mina finishes going over the rules. The moon is high in the sky and you’re restless as you listen to this speech for the hundredth time.

You can feel Soshiro practically burning holes into the side of your head, and when you peak over at him, you flush hotly at the intense look on his face. He flashes you a small smile and wiggles his fingers in acknowledgment. You return the gesture before starting to slip off your robe along with the other omegas.

The fabric drops to the grass and a suffocating wave of vanilla honey hits you like a truck. You glance over at Soshiro in surprise and his face has gone pink, jaw clenched tightly as he drags wide eyes up and down your bare figure. Your toes curl into the grass and then Mina is signaling for you all to start running.

You smile coyly at Soshiro, sending him a wink and then you take off running. You shift seamlessly into a wolf, shaking your fur out and leaping through the tree line. You head in the direction of an area you know well, a place near the edge of your territory that overlooks a cliff. It’s quite far, but it’s beautiful, and you’re hoping you can make it there before Soshiro takes you down.

Branches snag your fur as you run, but you pay the pain no mind. It’s nonexistent with all the adrenaline pumping through your veins. You distantly hear the shrill siren that announces the Alphas can begin their hunt and your pulse skyrockets.

You stop only once or twice to brush up against the trunk of a tree or a branch, just to leave behind some of your scent for Soshiro to track. It dawns on you that you’re starting to get about halfway to your destination when you hear a playful howl break through the otherwise quiet forest.

It kicks your ass into gear because you know it’s Soshiro. And fuck, it’s closer than you anticipated.

Your muscles begin to burn from the hardcore pace you’re being forced to keep up. Your ribs expand rapidly as you pant to try and keep enough oxygen running through your lungs.

A crunching noise to the left of you has you glancing that direction, and your steps falter in shock when you see glimpses of deep purple fur rushing through the trees like a blur. He’s only about twenty feet from where you’re currently running.

A giddy sensation makes you yip. You knew were right to choose Soshiro, but having it validated in front of your eyes makes you feel elated.

You abruptly change direction, turning right and sprinting like a bullet train towards a clearing you know is close. A furious snarl echoes from somewhere behind you and you’d laugh if you could.

You dig your claws into the dirt to generate more momentum, and it propels you into the clearing and towards the small creek you’ve often visited. The thundering of paws closes in again, but you’re still thinking you can outrun him when Soshiro slams into you so harshly you fly off your feet and splash into the water.

A bright pain flares in your shoulder as you land and all you can think is “just how fucking fast is he?”, before you scramble to your feet, fur soaking and hanging heavily with water. You realize you can’t even waste a second with your mate chasing you, and you launch yourself back into a run before Soshiro’s teeth can sink into your leg.

Water flies off your fur in every direction as you close in on the cliff side. You buzz with energy as you glide through the maze of trees as fast as your legs can carry you. You get the vague sense that Soshiro’s just been playing with you until now, because all of a sudden he’s rapidly gaining ground on you and the fear that you won’t make it prickles at the back of your head.

Just as you’re certain your legs will finally give out you burst through the tress, having to pump the breaks and skid to a stop before you fly over the edge of the cliff. You spin around, lungs positively burning for air, to see Soshiro stalking towards you, head lowered as he hunts you down.

It occurs to you that the easily overlooked flaw in your plan was that you’re now trapped with nowhere to go. That is, unless you feel like taking a nose dive. You know you’re not fast enough to slip past Soshiro, and so you steady yourself, growling at him half heartedly. You’ll have to take him head on.

Soshiro pounces first and you leap towards him simultaneously, colliding painfully and knocking your heads together as you try to snap at his throat. Soshiro backs off a couple steps before throwing his body weight into his next movement and barrels into your shoulder, sending you crashing to the floor.

You go down with a yelp, landing on your side and sliding a few inches. Before you can even consider retaliating, Soshiro’s jaw locks around your throat, applying enough pressure to pinch the skin but not enough to puncture. He rumbles lowly with a warning and you respond with a whimper, sagging with defeat.

Soshiro drags the moment out, and then he pulls away by a few feet to allow you to shift and shed your wolf, settling on his haunches as he watches you flop onto your back, panting and heaving to catch your breath.

He huffs in amusement and you glare halfheartedly at him. In the next moment Soshiro’s human again, sitting on his knees. He’s sweaty and flushed pink all the way to his nipples, grinning with an infuriating amount of self satisfaction.

You push up into a sitting position, shoving at his chest before he can speak. Now that he’s caught you, your adrenaline has morphed into an arousal that burns so viscerally you think your blood will boil. You physically cannot waste any more time not being locked on his knot.

Soshiro, much to your dismay, snatches your wrist and doesn’t budge an inch.

“Ah ah, I don’t think so princess. You’re not calling the shots tonight.” You try to pull your wrist free, whining childishly but Soshiro wraps his fingers around your throat and slams you back onto the ground, rattling your brain and a tearing a loud groan from your chest. Your pussy aches to be filled, and the blatant display of strength makes it worse.

“C’mon Soshiro, you caught me, just like I knew you would. Now mate me,” You demand impatiently, throat bobbing against his palm as you swallow. You grip his wrist with a hiss when he squeezes again, eyes flickering down to where Soshiro’s cock stands fully hard and proud.

“Such a bossy little mate, you’re so adorable,” he coos, releasing your throat and pushing your thigh open with one hand so he can settle snug in between your legs. You push your lower lip out but then Soshiro’s thick cock twitches against your inner thigh and that wipes away all traces of your pout.

“Soshiro, please,” you beg, squirming and tilting your hips up to try and catch the head of his cock. He moans, lids fluttering when your pussy glides along his shaft, drooling all over him and he brings a hand up to squeeze your tit roughly. Your back arches into his palm and your nails dig into the dirt below.

Your mate trails his hand down your sternum with an appreciative hum and warmth pools in low your belly. You want him so badly you’re willing to fight him over it. Your gums ache dully, the urge to sink your teeth into his neck and claim him consuming you.

Soshiro’s thumb finds your swollen clit and he rubs slow, deliberate circles into it, sending waves of pleasure throughout your pelvis. It’s more of a tease than anything else at this point.

“That’s what you wanted, right baby?” He teases, dragging his thumb down to part the soft lips of your pussy, a rumble rattling his chest at what he finds. “God, you look so fucking gorgeous under me like this, I can’t wait to see you split open on my knot.”

Your clit twitches and Soshiro grins slyly.

“Why are you teasing me? You said you would give me what I want!” You’re aware sound like a little kid who hasn’t gotten the treat they asked for, but dammit, you just want Soshiro to fulfill his promise!

“And I’m not going back on my word baby girl, just appreciating the moment.” He bites into his bottom lip, gaze heavy lidded as he stares down at you.

Soshiro presses his thumb into the base of his cock, angling it just so and then he’s pushing inside you. Your breath hitches, toes already starting curl at just how good it is. The stretch is nothing short of perfect, and when he pulls his hips back as if to test the waters, the drag makes you shiver in anticipation.

Apparently satisfied, Soshiro grips the backs of your knees and shoves them towards your chest, folding you into a mating press. He shifts his weight, readjusts his knees and you hold his forearms to ground yourself. You throw your head backwards, crying out his name loudly when he starts to fuck you in earnest.

Soshiro laughs breathlessly as you beg him not to stop, sweat beading on his temple and rolling down to his jaw.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, I’m not stopping until you’re limping out of here.” The threat has your pussy fluttering, and Soshiro whines at the sensation, curling his hips the next time he thrusts in.

You all but scream when his cock strikes your g-spot dead on, the ruthless motions of his hips jostling you and scratching your back against the rocks underneath you each time. You don’t even get the chance to warn him before you’re cumming so hard your vision whites out.

“Oh fuck yes. God baby just like that. Give it to me my sweet little mate, cum on my fucking cock.” Soshiro sounds on the edge of feral when he speaks, voice fucked out and breathy.

Soshiro’s knot starts to swell, begging to pop inside your pussy and he lets your legs fall to his lithe hips, sweaty fingers slipping against your skin as he grips your waist and tugs you back onto his cock as he pushes forward.

“Soshiro, baby, please give me your knot, let me fucking have it!” You beg desperately, dragging your nails along his forearms to leave angry pink lines. Soshiro’s cock twitches violently, and he leans down to shove his face into the crook of your neck with a husky moan, licking your scent gland.

“You’re going to look so cute swollen with my pups,” he says with a whine, snapping his hips shallowly yet urgently. You groan in agreement and wind your arms around his neck.

Soshiro pants hotly against your collarbone, breath hitching as he readjusts his grip on your hips and shoves his knot inside you. His cock twitches, stuffing you enough that some of his cum manages to sneak out past his knot.

Razor sharp teeth sink into your neck and you let out a wail so loud you wonder if every other wolf in the forest can hear and just know Soshiro is rearranging your guts. Your mates scent explodes and you’re delirious with the need to claim him, pushing roughly at his shoulders to get him to let go.

His jaw unclenches and you relish in the slick sensation of his teeth sliding free from your neck. You growl, grabbing the hair at the base of his skull and wrench his head back.

Soshiro complies with a whimper, your blood staining his lips and trickling down his chin. The sight drives you fucking insane and you tear into the junction of his neck and shoulder. Sweet vanilla honey bursts across your tongue when you pierce his mating gland, and the metallic tinge of blood doesn’t deter you in the slightest.

Your mate squirms in your punishing grip, and you growl harshly, clamping down harder. He whines long and low, nails sinking into the dirt next to your head.

When the wolf in the back of your mind is truly satiated, you release Soshiro and he gasps, cock kicking inside you again. Your head falls back to the ground, chest heaving as you try to calm down, each one of your senses on high alert. Soshiro snakes his arms under your back, holding you close as he rolls the two of you until you can relax on his chest.

You go willingly, straddling his waist and pressing your face into his throat with a deep inhale. His scent is now a mixture of the two of yours. Your purr, slipping your arms around his neck and he sighs happily. The two of you bask in the high you’re on, slowly coming back down to earth when Soshiro speaks abruptly.

“Thank you.” You raise your head up to peer down at him curiously. “For saving me, I mean. I’m not sure if I ever said so, but I’m grateful it was you by my side while I recovered,” he says sincerely.

Affection blooms pleasantly in your chest. “I should be thanking you. I thought I would never find a worthy mate, but when you showed up I knew I was lucky.”

Soshiro giggles. “I think that should be the other way around. I’m the lucky one. I love you though, you know that right?”

The grin you wear splits your face apart.

“I love you too Soshiro. You’re stuck with me forever now though, you know that right?”

He strains his neck to reach up and plant a chaste kiss on your lips.

“I’m aware, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

#hoshina smut #hoshina soshiro x reader #hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro #hoshina soshiro smut #kinktober #kinktober 2024 #soshiro hoshina #kaiju no 8 x reader #hoshina x you #hoshina headcanons #kaiju no. 8 #werewolf x reader

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queers-gambit · 2 months ago

Text

Bait and Switch

prompt: ( requested ) Adar knows you by surname and reputation, but makes a fatal mistake: underestimating the mutual desire to reunite with your husband.

pairing: Elrond x female!wife!reader -> hair color specified reader that does not specify race

fandom masterlist: The Rings of Power

word count: 7.7k+

note: did i steal the Targaryen hair color? "obviously," - Severus Snape. but don't let HOTD's wigs fool you - this hair color is NOT indicative of race.

warnings: reader insert for the haters, spoilers, cursing, angst, hurt and comfort, fuck tone of ellipsis 'cause Adar talks slow. POW!Reader (prisoner of war), violence, blood, injury, depiction of medical phenomenon (cauterization), slight gore (Reader bites off an Orc finger). healthy family dynamics, embedded Aragorn quote, Middle-earth fire is hotter than reality so JUST. roll. with. it. okay? okay. also, this requires a lot of imagination 'cause author invents really random lore but have fun with it. not edited, author can't see straight so what the fuck is this?

incarnate: embody or represent (a diety or spirit) in human form

"We found an Elf still alive, Lord Father!"

Adar watched lazily as one of his children stood over a body covered by toxic volcanic ash; twitching as it regained consciousness. "Kill it," he answered simply. The Orc snarled in pleasure and bent to grab the Elf's head; gripping their hair aggressively, yanking their head up - possibly snapping the Elf's spine - and lifted his blade in the air. However, the clump of hair was familiar and suddenly, Adar was barking, "Wait!"

Not many Elves had this particular hair color. It was dyed from soot and ash, but he could recognize the bright, platinum white-blonde hair. While some Elves were extremely fair yellow-blonde, this was white - like the purest of snows. And Adar only knew this trait belonged to one single bloodline.

The Incarnated, a single brood blessed by the Valar to give them unnatural strength and skill in battle. They were impressive, formidable foes; and typically, never lost a fight, battle, or war. They were absolutely brutish, almost impossible to kill, yet humble, generous, and kind.

Their aim always found the bullseye. Broadswords able to sever bone. Morality skewed more positive than simple neutrality. Silver tongues sharpened to prick the ears that listen.

However, it should be noted that even the Incarnated cannot withstand against the eruption of a volcano.

The Orc snarled with confusion now, hissing through his bloody teeth but not lowering the Elf. Adar strolled over, glaring at their captive, but slowly lowering himself to a squat as the Orc presented his finding. Adar's eyes squinted, reaching out and musing the trademark locks out of the Elf's face; smirking as he caressed her cheek free of ash.

He growled your name, sight still hazy from the eruption of what will later be known as Mount Doom - yet could still recognize sounds. Slowly, you blinked and tried to focus, groaning as pain in your scalp burned and prickled; spine bowed from the horribly painful position.

"Adar?" You whispered in confusion.

"You remember me."

You scoffed, slurring slightly, "You left quite a lasting impression."

His hand dropped to push hair from your neck and shoulder, revealing a long blemish from his dagger years ago. "And here we meet yet again," Adar chuckled. "Release her," he told his child, who instantly dropped you with a grunt; ash puffing up on impact. "Come," Adar offered his hand as you tried to sit up with trembling limbs, "we've still farther to go."

"Fuck you," you seethed, spitting at him; ready for the pain to end after the displacement and turmoil of your people. You had been with the Númenoreans, along with Commander Galadriel, and this... "King" Halbrand; celebrating victory against Adar's first volley of Orcs when the explosion happened; spewing toxicity into the earth, through the air, and evidently, over the area to distinguish what will be known as Mordor.

"Hm," Adar considered your weak form, chuckling. "Get her up," he commanded, standing, and watching as chains were slapped to your wrists and ankles before being tossed into a bloody, maggot-infested, wood-rotting wagon.

Seemingly eons away, Elrond was being informed of your assumed demise. Your husband refused to believe it, but by the solemn look of the messenger, his greatest companion, Galadriel, he knew there was weighted truth to her words.

"Did you see her?" Elrond asked.

"See her fall? No - "

"Did you even look for her?"

"Of course we did, but it was too dangerous to linger longer than what we'd been there for."

Elrond's head shook, "No. No... I won't believe it - "

"I know it's difficult to accept, but... She's gone, Elrond."

"I would know if my wife is dead," Elrond snarled uncharacteristically. "Believe what you wish, but I know she still lives."

Galadriel knew better than to argue; she, herself, spent years of denial after Sauron murdered her brother, Finrod. So she gave Elrond space to process what he'd learned.

Yet while a circumstantially redeeming quality, Elrond was stubborn and confident in his morals and opinions. So, he refused to believe your life was lost; something in his gut twisted knowingly, assuring you were just misplaced and surely, soon to be home. Elrond knew you had a flair for the dramatic, so, he just prayed this was one of those times - where you wouldn't reappear until the very last second to make an entrance.

Yet Adar took every precaution to ensure you did not escape or could be rescued. He didn't parade you around, he kept you hidden away to prevent gossip from revealing your location. You were constantly left chained to posts by rusting irons, no comfort offered, no reprieve; nothing to pass your annoying suffering a little easier. You were fed just enough to be kept alive, you were allowed to wash yourself with a single cloth every few weeks - but typically with an Orcish audience watching, claiming they're "on duty". You lost use of your tongue after so many months had passed without a single indication aid had been deployed - hope shattered and futile.

You wondered if Elrond knew. You worried he thought you lost to the war. In vain, you prayed he didn't give up on you. However, you were logical and logic screamed at you that nobody would come - there was no point! You would've believed being told someone perished, too, if you heard of such circumstances.

Despite being an Incarnated, you were emotionally drained. Though, it's worth noting that under normal circumstances, you would've NEVER ended up in this position; but because of your vulnerable state and the opportunity was too good to pass up, Adar prided himself on "defeating you". He didn't know that you were beyond patient; waiting, observing, listening, leaning routines and schedules. Any opportunity you identified, you searched for anything that could help you escape; something sharp, small enough to pick the lock of your irons. You were Incarnated - your will to survive (even out of pure spite) rivaled that of any enemy.

Camp to camp, you were moved. Day by day, you lost a little more sanity. Nights grew cold, days short.

You were surprised when a pair of Orcs lumbered into "your" room, unlocking you from the post but keeping the chains on your wrists in place. They yanked you behind them, shoved you into Adar's tented shelter then forced you to your knees before the food-filled banquet table.

"And of course, there's her," Adar waved at you lazily, smirking when his newest prisoner of war sat forward with a gobsmacked expression.

She whispered your name, head snapping up to find your companion, Commander Galadriel, sat at the opposite head of the table to Adar. You smiled slightly and whispered her name softly, aware of your appearance and how straggly, despondent, and wary you must look.

"What is the meaning of this?" Galadriel demanded, the emotion in her thick voice making it crack.

"We found her," Adar smirked, "after you and your people abandoned her."

"We did not - "

"She's been... An honored guest of ours," Adar cut Galadriel off. "Her hair - it's a rare trait, I knew who she was when she was found. Figured she could truly help... Turn the tides in this war."

"You do not know what you've done," Galadriel breathed. "If her kin knew you held her, they would raze your camp into the dirt and return your children to darkness."

"You think... I do not understand the risks of holding an Incarnated? I have faced them before, known their wrath... But against Sauron, it was a necessary risk to take."

"Why?"

"You must see," Adar explained, "that it is not His lies which must be extinguished. It. Is. Him." He paused, revealing, "And I can help you do it." Adar leaned forward in his chair, "I can help you destroy Sauron, and should you value your friend's life, you will let me help you."

"What help could you possibly provide, Orc?" Galadriel spat, now leaned back casually in the chair Adar sat her in.

"Uruk," Adar corrected in Black Speech, standing from his seat to venture towards the side of the room. He stood before a plain wooden box, lifting the lid, and revealing in his hands:

"Morgoth's crown," Galadriel sat up. "I was told - "

"There are many stories of what happened after the Silmarils were pried from its setting," Adar validated. "But I was there when Sauron re-fired it to fit Himself. I was there when He kneeled to be crowned. And I was the one who used its power to slay Him."

Adar set the crown to the table, your stomach growling at the sight and smell of full platters.

"If what you say is true... Why did He return?" Galadriel asked.

"Because I had not yet found you, as I have her," he gestured at you.

"What part are we to play in this?"

"It is said the Three Elven Rings saved your people from fading. Is it true?" When Galadriel didn't answer, Adar nodded at one of his children standing over you; making the Orc bash you in the temple. "Is it true?" Adar repeated over your whimper of pain.

"Yes," Galadriel grit, glaring at the small dribble of fresh blood dripping down the side of your face. She decided red wasn't your color - no matter how much your husband liked seeing you in it.

"Then perhaps... Together, this crown and your Rings would be powerful enough to truly destroy Sauron forever. The Deceiver believes he is still beyond my grasp... But I know he hides in Eregion. And I suspect you know for certain... Halbrand is Sauron... Isn't he?"

You laughed a little, "Halbrand? Sauron? Come off it, you're mistaken. Go on, Commander, tell him - tell him." Galadriel was silent as she was overwhelmed by her memories. "Commander, tell him he's wrong! Halbrand isn't Sauron, tell him he's mistaken!"

Adar mistook the silence as her being defiant, nodding to his son again in permission. So, the Orc swiftly backhanded you with enough force, it literally toppled you backwards with a groan.

"I kept her alive... For you," Adar growled, bearing his teeth at the Elleth. "But I'll execute her at nightfall if you continue down this path of resistance. The fate of that city and your friend now rests on your ability to put aside your pride." Galadriel's teary eyes casted over you, sprawled out on the floor - not finding the use in sitting up to your knees again. "I suggest you find the will to do so... If you can, for everyone's sake." Adar removed the crown from the table and placed it back in its box, Galadriel hissing your name, only receiving a nonverbal thumbs up to indicate you were okay. When the Father of Uruks returned, he clipped matching irons to Galadriel's wrist before snatching up his sword, tossing over his shoulder, "We will speak again. I'll give you until nightfall to decide."

The Orcs filed out of the room after Adar, leaving you on the ground and chained to a spare post. Slowly, you tried to sit up and use the beam as support; grimacing in pain that made your friend question, "Are you hurt?"

"They're not the most merciful lot," you tried to joke with a smirk, but it turned into a wince, "but I've been through worse, I'll be fine. Listen to me, Galadriel," you sniffled, "you can't tell Adar anything. I don't care if he's gutting me, you don't tell him - "

"I would not have your life ended on my account, it would be as if swinging the sword myself!" Galadriel argued with heat.

"Adar is not your ally," you scoffed, "nor are the Orcs - look at what they've done! Continue to do! Do not be so foolish! So blinded, please, I beg you, my friend. If you tell him about Sauron, yes, your enemy might be vanquished, but you could be creating an entirely new and future enemy that all of Middle-earth must endure. My life is not worth that."

"It's worth more."

You smirked, "Don't forget who I am, friend; I am Incarnated, and I will not die easily nor without a fight. Adar will not succeed in my death so easily."

Galadriel shook her head, "If I do not indulge Adar with information I have and you lose your life because of that, Elrond would never forgive me."

You gave a watery smile, sniffling, "How is he?"

The Elf shook her head, "He's... He refuses to accept your fate, operates on a shorter fuse, he's mourning - even if he doesn't acknowledge or believe he is."

"It's not that I don't love you, my friend, but... I'll miss him the most," you let a single tear fall, a wistful smile toying on your lips. "You'll look out for him, won't you? Just... Just don't let him be alone, please. He'll try to push you away, but be patient; he'll need you and I'll rest easier knowing you'll be there."

"I won't do as you ask," Galadriel grit. "Look at you!"

"How can you be so confident that the moment you tell Adar what he wants to know, he won't kill me anyway?"

"Because Adar appears a man of rationality - unlike Sauron - "

You scoffed, "None of them are rational, Galadriel! They have their own agendas - and none of them benefit the likes of us! Don't tell him anything else, I don't care if he's gutting me like a pig, you don't say anything!"

"I can't agree to that," Galadriel shook her head, "I won't, not when there's a chance we can both get out of this alive."

"And if we survive just to witness the eradication of our people!?" Galadriel was silent, bowing her head. With a sigh, you asked, "Where's Nenya?"

"Safe with Elrond."

"Oh?" You chuckled. "How'd that happen? You have to break his finger off to put it on?"

Galadriel gave a breathy chuckle, "He needed a bit of convincing, but with the greater good at stake - he was left no choice."

With a smirk of amusement, you nodded slowly, then requested, "Could you promise me something decently reasonable?"

"I can try."

"If you make it outta here and I don't - "

"Do not say that!"

"Galadriel, just - stop for a moment and listen to me, please. If you get out of here and I do not, tell Elrond what happened. Tell him Adar found me after the volcano erupted, kept me prisoner, and that I tried." Tears brimmed your waterline, "Tell him I tried to escape, to get back to him... But if I don't make it and you do, please, tell him I love him - more than anything. Tell him I'll wait for him on white shores."

"Tell him yourself."

As promised, when night fell, Adar returned. His second in command, Glüg, approached you with a brandished sword and laid it at your neck with a cruel and twisted expression.

"Have you made your decision?" Adar questioned, Galadriel looking between him and the threat to your life. "Choose wisely, or I'll let my children bleed her; right here, right now. Tell me what I've asked."

"Don't tell him shit, Galadriel!" You barked in a last ditch effort, earning a balled-up-armored fist to rock your jaw. You spit a glob of blood to the side, snarling at Glüg, "You hit like like a bitch." He spit on you.

With a huff, Galadriel exposed, "Yes, Halbrand is Sauron. He's in Eregion to craft Rings that will allow Him to dominate my kind... And yours."

"Every kind in Middle-earth," Adar corrected.

Quickly, Galadriel rushed, "But He will not attempt escape until His task is complete. And that gives us a momentary advantage."

"'Us'?" The Father repeated.

"Unlock me."

"Galadriel! Think for a second!" You snapped, but Glüg pressed his blade deeper into your throat. You seethed, frustrated and angry tears turning suffocating. Adar approached your friend, eyes trained on her, causing the Elleth to look away in discomfort as Adar undid the iron cuff on Galadriel's wrist.

"As we speak, Y/N's husband, Elrond, hastens from Lindon with an army of Elves..." She boldly looked at Adar, you struggling against the blade at the sound of Elrond's name, "And Nenya, my Ring."

"Galadriel! Stop, don't say another word! Silence yourself!" You begged, whimpering shrilly when blood flowed from Glüg's disgustingly dirty blade.

"I see," Adar turned from the Elf.

You were ignored and Galadriel rose from her seat, following Adar while continuing, "Once he arrives, he will seal off the city, loose Celebrimbor from Sauron's grasp, and then together... Uruk, you and I will eradicate all trace of Sauron from this world. Never to return."

"And what then?" Adar questioned.

"Any Ring that have known his touch must be destroyed."

"I meant, what then for the Uruk? Will your High King permit us to return home in peace? Or will he proceed with his plans to invade Mordor? The shadow has not only overcome you, it has overcome all of Elvendom. In the end, your drive to prove your virtue will work right into Sauron's designs."

"You speak lies," Galadriel whispered as if in disbelief. "Hoping I will reveal something."

"You have already revealed everything I hoped you would and more."

You groaned and tossed your head back into the beam; a harsh thump echoing as Adar charged out of the tent with Galadriel and Glüg on his heels.

"Where are you taking her!?" Galadriel struggled in her restraints, unable to stray far from her seat as two Orcs entered the tent and began unclipping your irons. You didn't fight them, rolling your tired eyes as they began dragging you out on your backside. "NO! NO! Where are you taking her!?" Galadriel sobbed, on her feet, trying to follow.

"Remember your promise," you told her, forcing yourself to find contentment that your friend could be the last friendly image your brain would register.

"No, please! Please! You will not profit from her death! I have told you what your Father wanted, now release her! Her death will not profit you, but instead, will bring about your utter ruin! Please! Y/N!"

The Orcs ignored Galadriel's pleas, dragging you from the tent and amongst the snarling, snapping Orcs. Adar stood before a cart big enough for a single prisoner, smirking, giving his children command in Black Speech to load you inside. He watched, telling you, "Galadriel says your husband is on his way with an army. Surely, the sight of his wife might give Commander Elrond pause. The knowledge that you're alive will bring him to my table."

You were strung up by your arms, spread in exposure, tarps thrown over the cage to effectively cut you off from the rest of the world. You felt the cage rattle as you were lugged through mud. You couldn't identify hardly anything... Until a familiar horn bellowed in the short distance, making your chest tighten. While excited by the prospect of a rescue, you loathed the idea of Elrond running head first into a trap.

Your Elven ears picked up on the sound of thundering horse hooves, knowing your people (kin, too) were charging towards Adar's army; who were swiftly gathering in organized ranks. Your cage came to a halt, and a moment later, you flinched when the front-facing tarp was ripped down and the light above Eregion glared down on you. You were greeted with the sight of your husband surging closer on horseback, time seemingly slowing when your eyes locked and he registered who Adar's prisoner was.

You flinched when an Orc pressed the tip of their blade into your already injured neck, reopening a wound to send a single stream of blood steadily flowing.

"Halt!" Elrond called in Sindarin, the entire procession coming to an almost synchronized halt. He sized up the enemy, but kept letting his eyes glaze over you - disbelief coloring his expression. Elrond's horse stamped in place, Adar stepping forward to speak.

"Welcome, Commander Elrond."

"Y/N!" A voice shouted from the army, Elrond's head snapping over in time to see your siblings - three brothers, two sisters - dismounting their horses.

"Wait, wait!" Elrond barked at them, holding a hand up; your siblings halting themselves.

"Wise," Adar taunted, your irons noisily rattling when you tried to adjust your stance.

In Sindarin, you called to your eldest brother, "Do what needs done, do not spare my life for this foolishness! Take them down! Be done with it! Rid us of their filth!"

"I should think... Commander Elrond would like to hear my proposal first," Adar told you casually.

"I think they should put you and children in the dirt!" You spat, earning several snarls, growls, and hisses from the surrounding Orcs.

Elrond encouraged his horse forward, standing in the sunlight highlighting 'no man's land'. He glared at Adar, but asked you, "Are you hurt?"

"Only my ego," you assured.

His eyes flickered over to Adar, then nodded, "I will hear you first."

"You're wasting your time," you told him in Sindarin.

"On you, it's not a waste," he answered stiffly, almost angrily. "I would have her set free for the duration of our parlay."

"But of course," Adar agreed, being carted away at his Blackened command. Due to the tarps hanging over the other 3 sides of your prison, you lost sight of Elrond; forced to blindly follow instruction and behave.

The Elves were not permitted weapons in the Uruk camp.

Elrond dismounted his horse with Vorohil and your eldest brother, Iallion, who insisted on going to gauge your state, in time to watch the Orcs yank you from the cart and drag you into a tent as if your legs were of no use. It was all he needed to know to understand your treatment the past few months you've been 'missing'. His hand clapped Adar's shoulder before the Father of Orcs could pass him by, snarling, "If I come to learn you've been mistreating my wife, I assure you, there will be consequences."

Adar just chuckled and lead the way into his tent. Several Orcs shoved Elrond's shoulder and forced him, his second-in-command, and your brother to follow.

Inside, Elrond noted the walls lined with Orcs, all surrounding their prisoners of war - you and Commander Galadriel. The blonde Elleths were shackled to the same post, both standing, though, you were leaning into the beam for support as it appeared you could not stand on your own. When you noted their arrival, you perked up slightly, but not enough to wash away the worry he felt.

Elrond was offered a seat, just staring down Adar, who began, "The Ring you carry... Show it to me."

Elrond snarled, "Show me the care you've taken of my wife."

"She is perfectly healthy... As you can see. The Ring, Commander..."

Elrond glared for several long minutes, then answered, "A foolish act if I had brought it here."

"You are a courtier," Adar pointed out. "More suited to wielding a scroll than a sword."

"You've never seen me wield either."

"And yet," Adar's head cocked slightly, "I have faced the Incarnated and won. Beside Sauron, there's none alive... Entitled to those rights."

Iallion demanded in a snarl, "How came you by my sister? You say you won against her - where?"

"Didn't win a fucking thing! The bastards found me; facedown in volcanic soot after the battle with the Númenoreans. I told you to keep charging - you should've kept charging," you answered, earning a swift kick to the back of your knee; making it buckle and ram the post.

"Touch her again and I'll slaughter everyone in here," Elrond threatened.

"You so much as twitch - "

"And one of your children shall kill me? My wife? My men? You think I am not aware of that fact, do you honestly think I wouldn't risk life and limb for my wife? Do not. Touch. Her."

Adar just stared at Elrond, then nodded, "Fair enough. Though, if she speaks again... Cut out her tongue."

Elrond, Iallion, and Vorohil all sat forward when Glüg's blade chimed as it was deployed from the sheath; another couple Orcs shuffling and snarling forward to box you in. Your eyes rolled when the same dagger pressed unforgivingly to the pulse point beneath the hinge of your jaw.

Adar continued, "Sauron is my enemy as much as yours... Give me what I need to defeat Him and let us be rid of Him."

"Is it not you that has done his bidding by laying siege to Eregion?" Elrond countered.

"Eregion has fallen into shadow... It belongs to the Deceiver now, as does every Elf within its walls."

"Not Lord Celebrimbor," your husband tried to refuted, desperate to believe there was still some good left to fight for.

"It was Celebrimbor himself who welcomed Sauron in. You cannot save him... You can...save...them," Adar explained, naturally making Elrond look to you still held at knife point. Galadriel was uncharacteristically silent, chained to the same post, facing one another. "It is an earnest offer... I suggest you take it," punctuated Adar before he rose from his chair. "And leave Sauron to me..."

"Right, 'cause that worked sooo well last time," you scoffed, making every Elven eye widen in surprised shock. "You're the reason He still lives, you're forcing us all to do your bidding and fight against Him!" When an Orc's hand rose in a sudden movement to grip your chin - intending to hold open so Glüg could amputate your tongue - you simply reacted out of panic by erratically whipping your head to the side in time to catch the Orc's hand. His pointer finger landed between your teeth, too slow on the draw; losing the finger to the single, incredible chomp as if a root vegetable.

The Orc screamed in pain, spitting the finger and causing black blood to coat your lips like sadistic make-up.

"Lord Father - "

Adar silenced Glüg with a hand in the air, the injured Orc being escorted from the tent; hissing at you in a way that made you smirk. The Father of Orcs glanced at you, demanding, "Quiet," before slowly moved around the banquet table. He complimented Elrond, "You have the beauty of your foremother, Melian of the Valar. If even a fragment of her wisdom is in your veins... You must know you cannot defeat me in battle. I will outmaneuver you... My forces outfight yours... And you will fall."

"Not before you have painted the sands of the Glanduin black," Elrond stood to meet Adar, "with the blood of your kin."

You smirked slightly, always having faith Elrond would choose responsibility over emotion - something Galadriel was increasingly struggling with and unable to master. Glüg lowered his blade when he heard Elrond's threat - thinking this war was meant to played with strategy, not overwhelming numbers that would discard Orcish life without thought or consideration.

Adar assured, "My children have endured cruelties your bravest couldn't bear to hear spoken aloud."

"Are you prepared to spend their lives so freely... Adar?" Elrond questioned, using the Uruk's name as if an insult. "Are they?" He asked the room, letting his eyes bore into those of few Orcs to truly drive his words and plant seeds of doubt.

Adar didn't respond, pausing, then demanding, "You may haggle over Galadriel... But it's the Ring for your wife's life. What is it to be?"

Elrond's eyes locked with yours, noting the way your head shook. He slowly stalked around Adar, his hand unsuspectingly unclipping the decorative detail of his cloak's shoulder broach. His teary gaze lifted to lock with yours, portraying his apology and grief, then turning to Adar, "Ask me on the field, when the neck with a blade against it is yours."

Orcs hissed.

"Very well," Adar accepted, sounding genuinely disappointed. "I suppose not all vows are kept sacred... I will meet you there... With your wife's head on a pike."

Elrond held Adar's attention, relenting, "If that is to be the way of things, I should like to bid her farewell."

Adar's eyes shifted to Glüg's over Elrond's shoulder, the Orc assuring, "He's unarmed."

Interesting, you mused to yourself, he saw Elrond's broach but doesn't report it? Perhaps this war caused tension among their legion - beginning to question the man they followed.

After Adar's nod, Elrond turned to approach the beam in record break time. "My love," he greeted softly, tears evident and ready to spill. You both just stared at each other, unable to accept or process being within proximity to one another after being apart for so long - and only now, reunited to say goodbye. "Forgive me," Elrond whispered in Sindarin.

"Win," you answered in a matching hushed volume. "And if you don't, meet me on white shores."

He nodded, hand lifted to caress your cheek in disbelief; shuddering at the feel of your flesh. "I've missed you past the point of words, my star," he frowned.

"No more than I you."

You snuggled into his hand, stomach lurching when he leaned forward to press his final kiss to your lips. It wasn't passionate, but something chaste for show only; your chained hands reaching to hold his free one as it was all you could reach. The broach's center was pressed to your palm, your tear streaking through grimy cheeks when he pulled back to rest his forehead on yours. "I love you," he swore.

"I love you, too," you whimpered, bottom lip trembling with emotion as Adar looked to the ground. You wished to say your acting skills were that good to be truly deceptive, but in reality, something in your intuition refused to let you believe you'd survive this.

Hating the look of devastation on your otherwise devastatingly beautiful features, Elrond leaned in again before hushing against your lips, "Be ready."

"Be smart."

Elrond nodded, kissed you one last time before pulling back. Almost as if in pain, he turned, unable to handle being so close so improperly; causing him to snap, "Iallion, Vorohil," who flanked his tail upon their exit of the Uruk tent.

You sniffled, leaning on the beam in exhaustion, still playing into the facade you thought Elrond was trying to silently communicate. You weren't defeated yet; the pin kept in your clenched fist to cause indentations from the star-point design.

Outside, Iallion and Vorohil questioned Elrond's confidence, being told a legion of Dwarves had been summoned to march to Eregion's aid; telling his second to guide the army to the battle while he held the city. Before trotting away, Elrond pulled on his helmet and told the two in Sindarin, "And it starts with the rescue of my wife and decimation of this camp."

You used Elrond's pin to pick Galadriel's lock first, insisting she had to flee before anyone caught you. She tried to refuse, something about loyalty or other, but you all but shoved her away from you and snarled for her to leave you.

"Elrond's near," you reminded her, "I'm not going anywhere."

"He's coming for you," she realized.

"Did you have any doubt?"

She chuckled, "I suppose not."

"Get out of here," you cocked your head, indicating she flee out the tent flap. You focused on your own lock as the sounds of invasion echoed around the camp. Praying Galadriel found a way to disguise herself, you struggled to unlock your irons; hearing someone rush into the tent behind you.

"You!"

An Orc was surging up to you in record time, bloody dagger in hand, twisted snarl curling his lip. You dropped the pin on accident, unable to retrieve it; but having enough mind to wait until the Orc was a foot from you, stepping back, extending your chains. The Orc slashed directly into the weakened metal, severing your bond, but the loss of tension made you flop backwards; rolling over your shoulder and onto your feet.

The Orc, ever graceful, hacked wildly at you; forcing you to go on the defense and dodge his attacks around the tent. Three more Orcs filed in; but however you might argue, luck was on your side for your brother, Iallion, came charging in with your sister, Eliriel.

"Y/N!"

You caught the sword your brother tossed, slashing the offending Orc's head from his shoulders as your siblings disposed of the other three enemies with ease.

Realizing the Orcs were vanquished (for now), you turned to your brother and raced into his embrace. He grunted and caught you, petting the back of your head before releasing and letting you hug your sister.

"Do you need medial aid?" Eliriel asked in worry, pushing hair from your shoulders to expose flesh - checking for any injury or bloody blemish.

"No - "

"Can you fight?"

"The day I answer no, you've permission to put me in the ground yourself," you scoffed, nodding at your brother. "You came back?"

"Elrond's leading the charge, they're razing the camp," Iallion explained, "otherwise he would've come himself."

"Where is he?"

"Come, we can find him," he insisted, eyes raking over you. "Sure you're all right?"

"Never better," you chuckled without humor, intent on holding the horrors you've experienced at the hands of your captors close to your chest. "Now, we gonna stand here and talk or go hunt some Orc?"

"YES!"

The Incarnated swarmed together in a protection fashion around you; a sibling shield, if you would, due to your lack of armor. Individually, the Incarnated were almost impossible to defeat, but together, they rivaled armies; exactly as the Valar intended. However, while fearsome in battle, you were still but a few and the Orcs were a grand-many; almost easily overwhelming any Elf they encountered.

Exactly why you were separated from them.

You faced against four different foes, turning as if dancing steps to something intimate; blade flashing in the sunlight, ringing as it clanged against blackened blades and rusted armor. It was easy to cut off your retreat or direction back to your siblings, forcing you back several yards as the Orcs swiftly closed in.

"Y/N! DUCK!" You heard from behind you; not thinking, just dropping like a sack of potatoes.

Horse hooves passed you, looking up in time to defend against another blade as Elrond engaged the others. You were both fairing decently until a moment of distraction - where an Orc swung his axe into Elrond's chest and knocked him from his horse - leaving an opportunity for your attacker.

With a scream, the Orc's blade sliced your chest in a deep slashing, managing to cut into your neck; blood starting to stream into your torn and tattered prison clothes. You were blinded by stinging pain, whimpering as your non-dominant arm curled across your chest as if gauze to lay over the injury; dominant hand occupied by your sword, defending yourself with weak whimpers.

One final hack made your sword arm collapse into the ground and for the Orc to stomp on your wrist to hold you there. You were pinned. The Orc laughed and sadistically reached down to swipe a grimy finger into your wound, causing you to hiss through teeth, only to lift his finger to his mouth and taste your life force. The sight alone made your stomach lurch, a panicked cry escaping your lips.

Elrond heard the enemy's laugh and lifted his head in time to see it lick your blood; noting your cry and position beneath the Orc. His face steeled into something beyond infuriation. The three Orcs that filled the space between you and he were quickly dispatched, Elrond engaging your attacker - letting you scramble backwards into a tree trunk for a front row viewing.

With a wild swing, Elrond swiped at the Orc; who reached up to grab hold of his helmet, which was freed when Elrond rolled from under him. The Orc swung, blade whistling; catching Elrond's cheek and sending him to the dirt, much to your worry. He glared at the enemy, wiping at his injury as the Orc growled, "I'm gonna spill her guts at your feet, Elf!"

Elrond's eyes flickered to you, taking the threat as credible; swiping the sword away, using a second blade to inflict injury before driving his longsword into the Orc's belly - driving him backwards into the basket of a trebuchet (or catapult). When pinned, Elrond drove his dagger into the Orc's sternum; leering over him in Sindarin, "Die."

Elrond yanked both weapons free and turned for the machine's mechanisms; yanking a rope and setting the trebuchet into motion. "No, no, no, no," the Orc begged when he realized what was happening; lifted off his feet only to be flung with the basket of rocks through the air, over the width of the Glanduin, and into the walls of Eregion.

Your husband wasted no time to drop the rope and turn for you; rushing forward and sliding to his knees beside your bleeding form. "Elrond, oh, my stars," you rushed with a bloody grin, reaching for him with your dominate hand as the other still tried to staunch your injury.

"I knew you weren't gone, I knew it," he breathed, taking your face in hand, "I'm so sorry, my love, I'm so sorry. I should've come sooner - "

"You got here right when you were supposed to," you assured, sniffling. "Have you - Have you seen Galadriel? I set her free, have you seen her?"

"Why was she not with you?"

"I sent her away, I wasn't sure how long I'd take to escape," you trembled, "then Iallion and Eliriel got me out."

"Why didn't you run?"

"I did..."

"No, away from the battle - "

"I ran to find you," you whispered, offering a sad smile. "Oh," you breathed, fingertip ghosting over his cut cheek, "that'll scar."

"It's nothing," he shook his head, "but yours isn't - I have to get you away from here - "

"There's no time," you rushed, "so, I need you to do something for me."

"Anything."

You swallowed thickly, "Clean your blade, put it in the fire."

Elrond's brows furrowed, glancing over his shoulder to see the trebuchet set ablaze by his men; the Orcs fleeing from the danger, leaving a rare opening. "I don't... Oh," his eyes widened, nodding and rushing to do as you bid. He cleaned his blade on his cloak as he sprinted to the burning machine; sticking his blade in, then returning to your side. "Can you stand?" He asked.

"If you can get me up," you nodded.

"C'mon, love," Elrond whispered, hands under your arms and hoisting you up the bark with a small grunt. "I've got you - "

"Elrond!"

He didn't think, just gripped the blade of his dagger and flung it in a fluid motion over his shoulder where you were staring. The weapon struck an approaching Orc in the throat; gurgling black blood as he went down, but Elrond didn't even bother to watch. He just returned his attention to you, "C'mere, starlight, I've got you."

"Commander!" A different voice shouted, your siblings rushing to the scene. Iallion, as the eldest, gave command to the others, "Circle - circle up! Get around them!" As the Incarnated surrounded you, Elrond was assisting you towards the flames. "Commander, orders, sir?"

"Stand guard," Elrond replied, easing you to your knees. "All right, my love," he paused, checking the blade, "think it's good?"

You nodded, "It's good. Just, uh... Aim, please."

He huffed, "As if I'd miss." He pulled his sword fully from the flames, the thin metal burning bright red; even sizzling subtly. "Ready?"

"Wait, wait," Eliriel bartered, finding a chunk of wood and placing it in your mouth. She lowered to her knees and hooked her arms around yours; restraining them behind your back in a vice. "Okay... Okay, good - do it, do it now, Elrond!" She begged, seeing blood flow a little more freely now that you weren't trying to plug the wound.

When your husband lowered the blade to your injury, you lost consciousness after screaming blood murder until air depleted from your lungs. The flesh was cauterized as cleanly as Elrond could manage, satisfied when he noted no weeping openings.

"Commander! What orders, Commander!?"

Elrond was torn between his wife and his company - but Iallion encouraged, "Go, brother. We'll get her somewhere safe."

With a scoff, Elrond shook his head and carefully pulled the wood from your mouth; gathering you off your sister and into his chest. "Where's safe anymore?" Elrond asked rhetorically in Sindarin, standing with you in his arms.

The camp was in complete disarray, Adar realizing the Elven Calvary had destroyed nearly everything in their path, almost to a barbaric extent. He would've questioned the displayed Elven bravery, but his mind knew better and reminded him he threatened Commander Elrond's wife... No wonder the camp was stamped into the ground.

The sun sank, darkness spread, and Adar listened to report after report, all confirming the Elves were fairing better than expected. Many Uruk lost their lives, more were injured, and the Orcs were encountering outmaneuvers no matter where they attacked.

Adar returned to the tent he left you and Galadriel in... Finding empty irons, no prisoners, and several of his children - dead. There was no confirmation as to who the wounds were from, but considering the swift yet strategically fatal injuries, he assumed the Incarnated had come to your rescue. Death was only graceful when dealt by their hands.

"Perhaps, Lord Father," Glüg reported, "we should sound the retreat. The Commander Elrond is formidable, angry over his wife's injuries..."

"No," Adar refused.

"He slaughtered half the camp to find her!"

"We do not retreat," Adar growled, making his son shy back a step. "Send him in..."

"He will kill our own kind!"

"Send. Him. In. Commander Elrond is on the battlefield, his wife smuggled away - "

"His wife is on the field, Lord Father! Khor saw her," Glüg gestured at his brother, who nodded vigorously at Adar.

"All the more reason... Send him in."

After your wound was cauterized, Elrond managed to find a horse and rush you a safe distance into the woods with Eliriel to guard you. Upon awakening, you were stiff with pain, but infuriated by the obvious delay in consciousness; rolling to your feet and testing the bounds of the near-fatal, scabbing wound.

"You can't go," Eliriel insisted, watching you stretch, "you'll tear open - "

"Adar kept me alive just enough for this moment, I have business to settle with him. I've been on the sidelines too long, sister," you snapped, "and injured or not, I will not leave Eregion to the darkness. There's still a chance - our people still fight. Will you join us? Or shall you turn tail, as our uncle did? Demote yourself?"

Your uncle, another Incarnated, had been a member of the original alliance of Elves against Sauron; one of the first to leave Valinor on a noble quest to Middle-earth. He was one of the reasons your kin had been blessed, but he's also the reason you know what happens if Incarnated refuse their Holy Calling... Facing Morgoth's apprentice was traumatizing beyond belief, your uncle leading alongside Galadriel's brother, Finrod, in many abattle. Yet Sauron's craft was vast, weaseling into your uncle's heart and brain to the point of insanity; so much so, that upon your uncle going AWOL, Finrod was slain in response.

Galadriel never blamed you nor other Incarnated; she blamed only Sauron, rationalizing he was who fucked up your uncle's head so much that the Valar took back their gift. A forfeited Incarnated was gazed upon with utter contempt until driven into exile, and even then, they aren't immediately granted immunity nor entrance into Aman, - or the Undying Lands - but instead, must plead for redemption. Needless to say, your uncle gave your kin quiet a public mess to rectify and it was a grave insult to throw such an accusation at an Incarnated.

"Sister?" You prompted.

From the dirt, Eliriel nodded and reached for your hand; allowing you to heave her onto her feet. "You'll need armor - do not argue!" She snapped with a pointed finger when your mouth opened. "Come."

Eliriel lead you through the woods at a mild pace as to not irritate your injury. Using the darkness to your advantage, you snuck around until happening upon a fallen Elleth who was about your size and body type. Swiftly, you took her armor with a prayer in Sindarin, securing it, then latching on her weapons belt.

"Ready?" You asked, seeing Eliriel nod. "Stay close."

"I'm older than you!"

"Then act like it!" You laughed over your shoulder, sprinting from the treeline and directly towards the fray taking place before Eregion's walls. You snatched a full quiver from a dead Elf, not stopping; plucking up an abandoned bow, still surging; then snatching whatever spent torch-arrows you could, doubly determined.

Blood transformed impacted dirt into a marsh; bodies littering the land, a city on fire, and Death permeating the air. Your sword sang with glee at each blow; injury holding strong, giving you fuller permission to move as you needed. When you raced into battle, you were an entirely different breed; purely animalistic, relying on your senses to cause the most damage. All you could process was you needing to kill.

You happened to be in the right place at the right time because just yards ahead of you, several jagged arrows thumped into your comrade, Rían's, body at varying angles. She swayed and dropped to her knees, revealing ahead of her, a small gaggle of Elves - Elrond included. Rían reached for a torch arrow as you noted the barrel of oil by the Grond and quickly connected the dots.

It was as if the Valar arranged it themself: where one Elf fell, an Incarnated steps up to assume responsibility without hesitation nor prompt. Three additional arrows struck Rían, who fell dead, and there you stood; causing your name to fall from your husband's mouth and for you to spring into action. Without hesitation, you ignite your own arrow, notch it, aim, then release before rushing towards Elrond; seven arrows impalied the place you vacated. "What're you doing here!? It's not safe!" Elrond demanded when you lowered to his level behind a barrier of dirt.

Your arrow found it's mark, catching the entire Grond and surrounding Orcs in a violently gnarly explosion. You smirked at your husband, anchoring him by his neck to place a desperate, messy, slippery kiss to his lips. On retraction, there came a loud, wet smooch sound; you nodding and answering, "Winning a war."

requesting rules and masterlist

TROP masterlist

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clockwayswrites · 1 year ago

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City Pigeons Bleed Green

WC: 1329 Masterpost CW: stitches, blood, canon typical violence, history of experimentation, bad (lbh evil) parent Fentons “I need to get to Bruce Wayne.”

“We should be able to arrange a conversation,” Tim said immediately. None of the shock and concern that Tim must have been feeling seeped through into his words. Jason always admired how even keel Tim could seem.

The kid’s eyes snapped to Tim, brow furrowed in confusion.

Tim just shrugged. “He does good in the city, so do we. Besides, his kids are targeted a lot and sometimes we get involved to help out with that. There’s a line of communication that we can use.”

“So what?” They rasped. “You let every kid who wants to talk to Bruce Wayne get to just ‘cause they’re bleeding out?”

“He’d say that was a good enough reason,” Jason said with certainty. He knew how much money and effort Bruce poured into Make a Wish and the children's hospital.

The kid squinted at him before glancing away. “I don’t think I’m ready to talk to him… like this…”

“Then a safe house for right now,” Tim insisted. “Just like the name says, it’s safe. We can get you patched up and you can rest somewhere you don’t have to look over your shoulder. When you’re feeling better, we’ll set up that meeting.”

“You’ll let a stranger stay at your safe house, just like that?”

“Kid,” Jason said with a sigh. “I don’t think you’re getting it. You’re a very hurt kid. You’re exactly the type of person that we’d do that for. We’re the Bats of Gotham and we protect her people.”

There was that ugly laugh again. “I’m not even from Gotham.”

“You’re here now. That’s all that matters in Gotham,” Jason said. He took the risk and held out his hand. Jason didn’t pray anymore, not since his mother died, but he still silently hoped that the kid would take it. Jason felt certain they wouldn’t make it if they didn’t take it.

The fingers braced against the grimy cinder block wall twitched. Then the hand reached out. The kid collapsed forward into the motion and Jason lunged to catch them. He lifted them gently, worried about how light they were.

“It’s okay, we’ve got you. We’ll make sure you’re safe.”

The kid hid their face against Jason’s jacket. Their words were almost too quiet to hear. “I don’t know if you can.”

“Never underestimate what a stubborn Bat can do, Kid.”

The kid passed out halfway to the safe house. It was probably for the best. Their injuries were… extensive would be too kind of a word.

Tim laid down a plastic sheet on the bed before Jason deposited the kid down on it. The hoodie, which couldn’t be the kid’s at that size, had to be practically peeled off. The main wound that must have been the blood splatter he noticed was the immediate concern, but it was everything else that worried Tim more.

This was more than signs of abuse, this was torture or experimentation. Those scars and wounds cut into the kid’s arms and torso was far too even and controlled. There were other, messier scars that looked like burns and stab wounds. The inside of their elbows were littered with track marks and their hands bruised from what must have been IV ports. The worst for Tim was seeing the metal collar around the kid’s neck, but he knew that wasn’t what was getting Jason. He didn’t need to see Jason’s eyes to tell they were glued to the track marks.

“Go take five and fill a bowl up with warm water,” Tim said.

“Red—”

“Hood,” Tim snapped, cutting off Jason’s growl. Tim had suffered Jason’s bite, the bark didn’t scare him anymore. Besides, they understood each other these days. They were the Bats will willing blood on their hands. “Go take five. They’re not going anywhere and I need your help to patch them up, so go take five and get your head on, okay?”

The fight drained out of Jason like a string had been cut. He nodded and stalked off to the tiny kitchen that was basically an afterthought to the living room. It was hardly their most glamorous safe house but it was close, had two bedrooms, and was secure, despite it’s shoddy appearance.

Tim had the old bandages and scraps of cloth peeled off by the time Jason came back to start cleaning away the green blood.

“We need to get antibiotics for them from Leslie,” Jason said after the worst was cleaned up.

“Definitely. This new wound is from a knife and some of these were wrapped with what I think was an old hospital scrub.”

“Lends credence to…”

“Yeah.”

Jason nodded stiffly. “This needs stitches.”

“Luckily I think bandages are fine for everything else,” Tim said.

He snapped off the nitrate gloves and put on a fresh pair. He carefully numbed the skin around the wound while he waited for Jason to be in a spot to hold the kid down should they wake up. The first few stitches went fine. Tim took the time to be extra neat. The kid didn’t need any worse scars because of his sloppy work.

Tim had just started on the forth one when the kid started to stir. They twitched and whimpered in their sleep. Jason pressed down carefully to keep them from moving too much.

“No, Mom, please, I’m your son! I’m not— Don’t… not again. I’ll be good…”

Tim looked up at the impassive red helmet.

“I’m good. I have him. Just keep stitching so we can get him tucked in to bed.”

“Okay,” Tim said and got back to work. It was hard to ignore the whimpered words and everything they implied, but Tim needed to focus. There would be time to start looking into everything after.

It was as he was cleaning up that Jason threw a wrench into things.

“Don’t run his DNA.”

“What?” Tim hissed, rounding on Jason. “That is clearly Bruce’s kid in there!”

“Exactly. It’s obviously his kid, there’s no doubt in that with the way he looks. And just as obviously he’s been tortured or experimented on. Don’t you think he’s been stripped of his privacy enough?”

All the fight bled out of Tim an instant. “Fuck. I didn’t think… I just wanted to…”

“I know. You wanted to help by solving this, but that’s not what this kid needs right now. So hold off until he feels safe enough to consent, okay?”

“Okay, no, you’re right, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, Red,” Jason said, ruffling Tim’s hair with a wet hand. “Creepy stalking is just your way of caring, I get it. Just pull back a little this time. You can focus on that collar he’s wearing right now.”

Tim shuddered. “That thing needs to go. Am I staying on watch then?”

“If you’re fine with that. I’ll get Oracle to call the others to the Cave.”

“Sure,” Tim said. He didn’t want to miss that conversation, but someone had to stay with the kid and he was a better choice to get the collar off. “Just make sure I have a comm line in.”

“Of course. Can’t have you missing out on us discussing the old man’s sex life.”

“Ugh, never mind, I don’t need a comm line!”

“Too late!” Jason called out with a laugh as he headed for the door.

Tim flicked him off just to do so.

After double checking that the place was secure, Tim pulled out a tool bag. At least he could start by testing the collar for explosive residue or other traps that would keep Tim from taking it off. The thought of the collar being rigged made him sick to his stomach, but it fit too well with the canvas of scars that the kid bore.

“Who did this to you, Kid?” Tim asked, even though he knew he wouldn’t get a response. “And how soon can Hood put a bullet in their head for you?”

--- AN: So here's a little more of this for Trauma Tuesday! The Reds are very concerned! I'm still having fun writing a Jason and Tim who get along and understand each other in a way the other 'we don't kill' Bat's don't, threats of murder and all.

Sorry if there are lots of mistakes (I don't need them corrected, ty), it's been a bad fatigue spell here. Still hope you enjoyed it and stay delightful, darlings!

(Oh, and there's another continuation to the OG threaded to it by chroma if you want a different take!)

Masterpost you can subscribe to, as I no longer tag people!

#dp x dc #batpham #trauma tuesday #city pigeons

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corpsekiller · 11 days ago

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𝙖 𝙠𝙣𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙜𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙛 (𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙞𝙩 𝙩𝙬𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙨) — 𝙙𝙖𝙗𝙞

PAIRING. dabi x genderneutral!reader

WARNINGS. hurt/comfort, fluff, scars, mentions of violence and blood, mentioned murder if you squint

SYNOPSIS. dabi struggles with a strange longing for softness and peace that feels impossible to reach for someone like him. in a tender moment, you offer him a fragile spark of hope and comfort.

LENGTH. 1.987 words

MASTERLIST

For the longest time, Dabi wanted to be soft.

It's strange, craving to be known, to be seen despite the scars littering his body — the desire for someone to strip away the layers of his unbridled rage and wrap their fingers around his very core, dig their nails into the tender flesh until every gruesome feeling he's ever buried in the darkest corner of his mind oozes out like blood from a fresh wound.

And look—

He tried to lose this longing, really. Dabi doesn't remember how many times he found himself wandering through the depths of the night, how many streets he walked down and how many corners he rounded without looking over his shoulder, hoping it would find someone else to haunt — and yet, it always returns like a lost dog.

On most days, it sits idly behind his eyes and watches through a curtain of cerulean blue. Those days are easy for him. They're quiet, almost placid and he barely takes notice of it, this dog he despises with every inch of his frail body until he sinks into the cold mattress he found in another abandoned building and tries to find some peace where none is left for people like him.

Sometimes though, his want lingers on the tip of his tongue and scratches on the inside of his cheeks, tears at the stitches holding his face together until tender flesh bursts open — barking, growling, begging to be let out.

Dabi only swallows harshly, clenches his jaw and grits his teeth until the endless tension turns into a dull ache climbing through his skull and settling behind his temples. The others notice he's quieter on those days, but none of them care enough to ask. He's glad they don't.

It gets worse in spring.

There's a certain kind of grief that comes with the first days of April, a sadness that mourns what could have been and what will never be as the sun breaks through the clouds and kisses his cheeks with a warmth that doesn't quite reach under his skin. Dabi turns his head, pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of your voice humming a familiar tune, and lets his gaze wander to your hands.

Nimble fingers twist the stems of a few flowers you picked and neatly weave them together before plucking another one and adding it to your collection. A cool breeze blows through his hair, tousling the strands that shadow his face even further as if to caress his head and sweep away the dreading feeling of sorrow that has begun to slip between his ribs and settle behind his sternum ever since the days started to get warmer.

His want unfurls in the cavity of his mouth. It paces behind his teeth, claws scraping the inside of his cheeks, whining for release. Dabi only bites his lip, sinks the edge of his canines into the supple flesh until he draws blood and senses the familiar coppery taste on the tip of his tongue.

Nonetheless, his fingers twitch at his sides. It's an unconscious reaction to his want's growling, its restlessness trembling through his chest in violent rattles. He wants to reach out, to test if his hands could hold something as delicate as the crown you're making without crushing it, but he knows better.

This isn't meant for him — not this kind of peace.

The dog snaps at him from inside his own ribs, furious at the refusal, its longing teeth bared against the bars of his will.

He hates it, truly.

And yet, he still wants to be soft so desperately, wants to break himself apart like the flower you hold between your fingers, gently picking at the rose-tinged petals until they descend to the ground and scatter around your legs. You don't seem to notice the agony glinting behind his gaze, don't see the way his hand trembles when he reaches out to caress yours, grazing his fingers over your knuckles almost as if to trade places with the flowers and receive the feeling of your gentle touch instead.

Oh, but that's the problem, isn't it?

This softness he yearns for was never made for his body — like an ill-fitting shirt two sizes too small, it'll burst open at the seams and leave him exposed — every scar, every fracture, every jagged edge laid bare for the world to see.

Truth is, he has always been too hard, too rough, made of nothing but sharp edges meant to cut and violent anger meant to burn everything he touches.

"What's going on in your head?" It's a simple question, a whisper of care that carries away with the wind rustling the branches of the trees above his head. Undisturbed, your fingers continue their work, weaving the stem of each flower into the other one, twisting them into a circle of petals and leaves.

Instead of replying, Dabi lets the silence stretch between you, taut and fragile like a rubber band about to snap, until you finally decide to break it.

"You don't always have to be the fire, you know?" Your eyes leave the task at hand to meet his. There's a tenderness there, a subtle invitation for him to step outside the walls he's built around himself. "You don't have to hurt to feel alive."

A flicker crosses his face, something uncertain and unguarded at the same time — a crack in the mask he usually wears so well, a glimpse of what lies beneath his hatred that passes as quickly as it came. Instead, his gaze drops to the flower crown resting in your lap as if he's regarding the delicacy of each petal and how easy it would be to crush them — oh, how easy it would be to crush you — and lets out a bitter laugh.

"These hands—," he pulls his own back slightly, his scarred fingers curling in as if they could sear anything that gets too close. "You think they’re meant for holding something as soft as this?" Dabi gestures to the flowers with a rough flick of his wrist, but there’s a hollow resignation in his voice. “My hands are covered in blood, they're not meant to hold something gently."

"And yet, they never hurt me," you reply and lean closer, letting your fingers brush against his. The warmth in your touch is oddly comforting, sweet and caring and so undeniably contradictory to everything he embodies that it causes him to flinch, almost as if expecting you to recoil once you realize what kind of abomination he truly is.

You don't.

Instead, you lace your fingers with his. For a moment, you close your eyes and focus on the tension that runs through his tendons and deems it impossible to steady his hands, how he retreats and seems to brace for something that never comes.

You faintly wonder if it's rejection he fears or perhaps even worse, abandonment.

"You don't understand... this is all I've got." Dabi lets out a hollow chuckle, a bitter sound soaked in resentment, and gestures vaguely to his hands where discolored scar tissue meets ivory skin. The very same ones that have left scorched marks across entire cities, across people and across every attempt at kindness he's ever known. "I was made to burn. It’s all I know."

"No." It's a simple reply, two letters holding so much weight that he can feel his shoulders cave in under it, and yet, he can't bring himself to move, can't rip his gaze away from your face as you speak. "You weren’t made to burn. You were just… left in the flames too long."

The dog quiets to a mere whimper.

His chapped lips part, but no sound dares to escape, the trace of his unspoken words lingering on the tip of his tongue. No one has ever said something like that to him. No one has ever cared to see him as more than just a villain — as a product of his cruel past — and the realization stirs a long-forgotten ache in his chest, one he's spent years burying under layers of rage.

"Do you ever think about it?" you ask softly. "Who you might have been… if things were different?"

The question slices through him, raw and jagged. Defeated, he drops his head and allows his eyes to drift back to the flower crown still resting on your lap, the image of your fingers braiding delicate stems together with so much caution as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Sometimes," he admits quietly and pulls his hand out of your grasp, pressing it to his chest, right above his heart. "But it doesn’t matter, does it? None of that matters anymore. Every choice has been ripped from me and all that's left... all that's left is this hollow shell of who I could have been."

"That's not true," you argue softly, reaching up to cradle his cheek and tilt his head to meet his gaze. "You can't change the past, but you can still choose what you could be."

Abruptly, he goes quiet, eyes tracing over your face like he's trying to search for a lie, like he's afraid he'll find nothing more than betrayal etched into the fine lines of your features. "What would I be, then?" he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, a quiet confession that seems to surprise even himself.

"Someone worth knowing," you reply, reaching up to tuck a stray strand of his white hair behind his pierced ear before placing the flower crown on top of his head. Your fingers trace over the soft curve of his cheekbone, not quite touching him, but hovering over his calloused skin.

For a fleeting second, Dabi tenses under the gentleness, but then he exhales, the tension melting away like frost in the morning sun. His shoulders slump, the weight of years spent bearing his anger and pain easing just a split fraction. As if on instinct, he tilts his head slightly and nuzzles his nose against the open palm of your hand, the flower crown slipping just slightly askew.

Tentatively, eyes flutter shut, and he leans into your touch as though it’s the only anchor in a storm he’s been battling for far too long. His breath hitches, a quiet sound that betrays the fortress of indifference he’s built around himself and despite his movements, the flower crown stays precariously on his head - a stark contrast to the scars and jagged edges that mark his life, and yet, somehow, it feels like it belongs to him.

"Don't," he finally rasps, his voice hoarse but not as sharp as before. "Don’t make me believe there’s anything left worth saving."

You don’t pull away. Instead, your thumb traces the edge of a particularly rough scar on his cheek, your touch soft enough to feel like an unspoken promise.

"I'm not making you believe anything," you reply, steady and unwavering. "I'm just reminding you it’s still your choice. You know, softness isn’t something you take... it's something you learn."

His lips twitch as though he wants to say something more, to argue, to fight, but instead, Dabi stays quiet. His hand, calloused and hesitant, brushes over yours where it rests against his face, holding it there as though he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.

For the first time, there’s no fire in his eyes — no rage, no resentment, no bitterness. Just a flicker of something raw and unsure, a spark of hope too fragile to name.

"It doesn't suit me,” he finally mutters, his tone almost self-conscious as his fingers ghost over the edge of the flower crown. “But… maybe I'll keep it. Just for now."

Maybe he can't be soft anymore, but he can be kind, he decides.

That's more than enough.

Taglist: @justwolosers @jaerang @dabislittlemouse

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