#the pure audacity of this man knows no bounds

[yours-the-author]

Even criminal overlords fall down sometimes... good thing the Toppat Chief's Right Hand Lady and friends are there to make it better!

God, this took SO LONG. It's not the biggest comic I've ever done, or even the most complex (though it certainly wasn't easy), but getting all of the dialogue to fit was a challenge (I tend to write big and messy, as I'm sure most everyone was able to guess). If the dimensions of the panels seem odd, it's probably because of that.

Right Hand Man's standing over here like "is this really the guy that almost killed me?" Meanwhile, Reginald's more worried about the hat. As he should be; it's a very important hat! Ellie has the patience of a saint... or a mom friend.

How did Henry set the scooter on fire and only get a cut on his knee? It's Henry Stickmin; literally anything is possible. He's probably lost his scooter privileges for a while, though...

Charles isn't dead in this timeline, but I imagine Henry likens him to an angel in multiple ways (self-sacrificing, heroic, handsome... an angel!) He's is still displeased with Henry's choices in this timeline, of course, and Henry knows it. His one regret in life... (I've been reading too many Toppat Henry x Charles fics and comics lately... or maybe not enough?)

Anyway, come get some Toppat King ending food. Chapter one of The Beauty and His Right Hand Beast will be out this Monday... I just need to get started on it, heehee.

[tender-rosiey]

WE’VE SEEN SUKUNA WITH A SHY DAUGHTER, BUT WHAT ABOUT..SUKUNA WITH AN EXTROVERTED ENERGETIC HUMOROUS DAUGHTER⁉️⁉️

mischief reign — ryomen sukuna x f!reader

a/n: I HEAR YOU ANON

sukuna, the king of curses, master of terror and destruction, sits cross-legged on his throne with a look of pure exasperation carved into his features.

his crimson eyes follow the whirlwind of energy that is your daughter as she darts across the room.

“stop running, d/n,” sukuna orders, his voice heavy with authority. “you’ll trip over your own feet and break your neck. then what will you do?”

d/n skids to a halt in the middle of the hall, her little arms spread wide for balance.

her grin is as wide as her father’s, though hers is filled with boundless mischief rather than malice.

“then you’ll fix me!” she chirps without a second of hesitation, twirling on one foot.

sukuna pinches the bridge of his nose, muttering under his breath. “you’re too much like your mother.”

“is that supposed to be an insult?” you call out, stepping into the room with a knowing smile.

sukuna’s gaze flicks to you, and though his expression doesn’t soften, you can tell he’s relieved by your presence.

“it’s a warning,” he retorts. “one is enough. two of you? that’s a curse even I don’t deserve.”

d/n bounds over to you, her tiny hands clutching at your robes as she peers up at you with wide, excited eyes.

“mama, did you see me? I ran so fast! like this—zoom!” she dashes in a quick circle around you, nearly tripping over her own feet in the process.

“I saw,” you reply with a laugh, steadying her before she topples over. “but your father’s right. you’ll hurt yourself if you’re not careful.”

she pouts up at you, her brows furrowing in an uncanny imitation of sukuna. “papa’s always telling me to stop. he’s so grumpy!”

“because you don’t listen,” sukuna snaps, his tone sharp but not unkind.

“because you’re always grumpy!” d/n shoots back, sticking her tongue out at him.

the audacity of her response earns a low growl from sukuna. “insolent brat,” he mutters.

you stifle a laugh, knowing better than to let sukuna see you encouraging her sass. d/n, on the other hand, has no such reservations.

she scrambles up the steps to his throne, plopping herself down beside him with all the confidence of someone who knows they’re untouchable.

“why don’t you smile more, papa?” she asks, leaning her chin on her tiny hands as she gazes up at him.

sukuna stares at her like she’s just suggested he grow a third ear. “I don’t smile because I have to deal with you,” he replies flatly.

“you’re so mean!” d/n huffs, crossing her arms. “mama, tell him he’s mean!”

you step closer, your hands resting on your hips as you give sukuna an amused look. “you are so mean, sukuna.”

“I will show you mean later,” sukuna counters, eyes focused on you before they narrow as he turns to look at your daughter. “the world isn’t soft and kind. you might as well learn that now, you brat.”

d/n puffs out her cheeks in defiance. “but the world isn’t just mean either! there’s fun and happy things too! like flowers, and festivals, and—” she pauses, a sly grin creeping onto her face. “—frowny grumpy old men like you!”

sukuna’s eye twitches, his patience visibly wearing thin. “old?” he echoes, his tone dangerously low. “do you have a death wish, child?”

“maybe!” d/n chirps, completely unfazed.

the sheer audacity of her response leaves sukuna momentarily speechless, and you have to turn away to hide your laughter.

“d/n,” you say gently, crouching down to her level. “why don’t we give your father a break? he’s had a long day.”

“but he doesn’t do anything!” she protests, pointing an accusing finger at sukuna.

the cursed king leans forward, his crimson gaze locking onto hers with a dangerous gleam. “do you want to find out what I can do, little girl?”

“sure!” d/n replies brightly, hopping off the throne and striking a playful fighting stance. “let’s see what you’ve got, old man!”

sukuna’s lips curl into a predatory grin, and for a moment, you think he might actually take her up on the challenge.

but then he leans back with a huff, crossing all four of his arms.

“you’re not worth the effort,” he declares.

d/n pouts, clearly disappointed. “you’re no fun,” she grumbles, flopping onto the floor dramatically.

“and you’re exhausting,” sukuna fires back.

you step between them, shaking your head with a fond smile. “

“alright, that’s enough. d/n, why don’t you help me in the garden?”

“but I don’t wanna leave papa!” d/n whines, clinging to one of sukuna’s lower arms. “he’s fun to tease!”

sukuna pries her off with minimal effort, holding her at arm’s length like a particularly annoying kitten.

“I don’t need your help to be teased,” he growls. “I’ve got your mother for that.”

you chuckle, reaching out to take d/n from him. “come on, troublemaker. let’s go pick some flowers for your father. maybe that’ll cheer him up.”

“good luck,” d/n mutters, allowing herself to be led away. “papa doesn’t like anything.”

“except for you,” you murmur under your breath, glancing back at sukuna.

his eyes meet yours, and though his expression remains unreadable, there’s a flicker of something softer in his gaze.

as you and d/n move toward the door, sukuna’s voice follows you, low and gruff. "you're both in the same lump to me," he says.

your eyes widen slightly at the admission. your raise your head to look at him, suddenly right in front of you. you’re about to respond.

but without waiting for a reply, sukuna lightly bumps his shoulder against yours as he passes, the motion almost casual but undeniably intentional.

his gaze never wavers from the throne, but you catch the small, reluctant smirk that tugs at the corner of his lips.

"don't forget that.”

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[qwimblenorrisstan]

Leaf Pile | Roach x/& Reader

Day 14: Playing in the Leaves w/ Gary “Roach” Sanderson

Summary: You find a very lost, mute, British soldier in your very American base, and someone had the audacity to knock over his pile of leaves.

Word Count: ~ 1.4k

Warnings: Americans sorta bullying roach :( but it’s ok they make up, pure crack+fluff tbh

A/N: idk what was happening in this one it just wrote itself honestly, can be read as platonic or romantic, hope you enjoy<3

Requests are open!

Some British boys had come to base, was the rumor going around.

British boys coming to your very American base for Marines, mind you.

There had already been jokes going around, mocking the ones that had been seen for their accent, and you could’ve sworn you’d heard “bo’ol o’ wo’er” about a million times by now.

You didn’t care much. Men came and went all the time, like that group of German(?) men who’d been gone within the day, rumors starting up that they were haunting the place, vengeful spirits from World War II.

The rumors were stupid, but you worked with Marines, and they were bound to be idiots, even joking around with you, the one responsible for keeping everything behind the scenes up and running properly. You had a close bond with most of them, being the “mom” of the base, so maybe that was why you felt bad when you saw your men picking on one of the new British soldiers staying here for a few days for God knows what.

“C’mon, say it!”

One recruit shouted, another grinning as he nudged the silent man dressed in his full military gear, British flag clear as day on his uniform, face covered, gun hanging by his side.

He simply stood there, not doing anything.

Huffing to yourself, you strode over to the group of men while on lunch break, swatting whoever you got closest to.

“You’ve got shit to get done, I’m sure. Get moving.”

You nearly barked at them, and they quickly snapped back into place, mumbling little “yes ma’am”’s and skittering off to wherever they should’ve been, leaving the silent man behind. You approached him, raising a brow.

“Sorry about them, they’re idiots,”

You said, glancing down at his uniform, not finding a dog tag to read or a name tag in the slightest on him. That was usually how you knew to address most people around here, or the new ones, at least.

“What’s your name?”

You asked, tone more information-seeking than curious. He hesitated for a moment, before fumbling with his hands, making a whole lot of gestures you didn’t understand. At first, it just looked like he was drunk, crazy, or very confused and nervous. Eventually, it hit.

“Oh, sign language. That’s what you’re using.”

You said, tilting your head slightly to the side. He gave a little quick nod, and you reached for your phone, about to have him type it out, considering you hardly knew any sign language at all, only to find your phone missing.

Lunch break. You’d left it in your office.

“Shit,”

You mumbled, mind working to find a solution. Your office was too far from here to walk back again, and this poor man looked lost.

“How about a game of charades?”

You offered, and he frantically nodded, whether he was excited or just anxious wasn’t clear.

“Alright, how about your name?”

He gave a slight nod, and held both of his hands out, holding one arm steadily in front of him, his pointer fingers curling up, thumb remaining straight as he put it on his forearm, moving it very, very slowly.

“…A curly fry?”

You asked, very confused, before he shook his head, seeming frustrated until you realized.

“A snail?”

A nod.

“Your name is Snail?”

He shook his head, looking a bit frustrated.

“Alright, keep going.”

Next, he let his arm down, taking one hand and spreading the fingers out, in the shape of a star.

“A star?”

His hands twitched slightly before he made a rolling motion with one, in a gesture of ‘keep going’. Your brow wrinkled as you tried to figure out what he was trying to say before he pointed to the water fountain nearby.

“Water…star?”

You asked, confused, before making an ‘ohh’ sound.

“A starfish?”

He nodded, before moving on to the next object, making a square with his hands, and using a finger to poke figurative little holes in it.

“Cheese?”

Nope.

“A sponge?”

A nod. An excited nod this time.

“I still don’t get it. A snail, a starfish, and a sponge. What does that have to do with your name?”

He shook his head, making the gestures for all three all over again, making a plus sign, then an equal sign with two fingers. A snail plus a starfish plus a sponge. The answer you came up with sounded stupid in your head, but it was better than nothing.

“Spongebob?”

He hopped up from excitement, landing on the tip of his toes as he nodded, gesturing in a ‘keep going’ movement again and making the snail symbol.

“The snail from..Spongebob? Gary?”

He nodded, giving a thumbs up. You sighed in relief at the mental wild goose chase being over. At least you knew his name was Gary now.

“Alright then, Gary, I’m assuming you’re lost?”

He nodded. You didn’t blame him. This Base was big, bigger than the usual ones, and it was easy to get lost in the hallways, and corridors, not to mention all the buildings outside.

“How’d you get lost?”

You asked, mildly interested, and he leaned over, picked up an orange leaf from the ground, pointed to it, and threw it up in the air in a flying-away gesture.

“You followed a leaf?”

You asked, trying to keep the judgment off of your face and out of your tone. He shook his head, pointing to the lead again, but making a gesture of big, like a large leaf, or many leaves, and then pretending as if he were holding some sort of mop, broom, or probably a rake, sweeping the leaves together.

“You were trying to make a pile of leaves?”

He nodded, making a ‘follow me’ gesture, before jogging off down one of the courtyards, leaving you to follow him as he led you to one of the quiet areas on base during this time of day, closer to the barracks where not many were right now. Truth be told, the pile of leaves he led you to was small and mildly sad, and his posture seemed to droop as he looked at it, as if disappointed.

It didn’t take much to figure out that someone had messed with his pile of leaves while he’d been gone, probably to find more leaves, the trail left behind showing evidence of someone kicking it over.

You pursed your lips at the sight.

“You stay right here, I’ll be back.”

Lunch break be damned, you followed the trail of leftover leaves and the slightly dirty footprints left behind from the dirt on some of the leaves, only to find it leading to the canteen, where some recruits, some experienced men were sitting, chowing down on their meals.

You could call most of them by name, at this point in the year.

As they saw you walking in, sour look on your face, they must’ve known something was up, seeing as most of them quieted up very quickly, the ones who didn’t being elbowed enough to shut their mouths.

“Who kicked over the leaf pile in front of the barracks?”

Your stern voice rang out, waiting for an answer you wouldn’t get as everyone remained silent.

“If nobody wants to own up to it, I’d better find a pile at least five feet high when I go back out there. On your feet, boys!”

You barked, and they got to their feet, moaning and groaning as they lumbered outside, moving to go collect leaves while you took your lunch break inside, munching down quickly on a basic sandwich, going back outside after around fifteen minutes, finding all of your men and Gary with a giant pile of leaves, brown, orange, red and yellow blending together as they took turns jumping in it.

The less enthusiastic men took their lunch outside, chatting in the sun or wherever they could find shade, the autumn breeze blowing by.

You grinned as you watched them, leaning against the corner of the canteen building’s sturdy walls, watching as a disgruntled man with a mohawk, and a shorter man with a skeletal mask on almost walked straight past you, when they stopped dead in their tracks at the sight of the grown ass men playing in leaves.

“Wot.”

The masked man said simply, confusion palpable in his gaze.

“I’m guessing Gary’s yours?”

You asked, and the mohawk-man turned to face you after spying out his man in the crowd.

“Aye. Which one’s yours?”

He asked, Scottish lilt to his tone obvious, but comforting somehow.

You sighed.

“All the rest.”

Tags:

@hawke1917

[uselesssomebody]

𝕓𝕣𝕦𝕚𝕤𝕖𝕤 - jake lockley x reader

complete masterlist | mcu masterlist | moon knight masterlist

words || 𝟚𝕜

moon knight spring '24 bingo prompt + progress || 'bruise'

summary || in which jake gets a little jealous

a/n || so excited to be part of this event by @moonknight-events, my board looks so fun! check out their blog for a shit ton of other moon knight content by a bunch of other creators!

➵ ask if you wanna be added to a taglist

➵ heed the warnings in said masterlist, this series is 18+, and inherently dark

➵ send me requests if you have ‘em. enjoy!

warnings || fluff/smutty, but no sex

jake didn't take fares between 5 to 6 p.m.

he'd postpone his break so late, just to ensure he was always on time to pick her up from work. it annoyed him enough that he couldn't also drop her off, but the smattering of kisses that she'd pepper over his nose and lips before he left early for work made up for some - not all - of the worried thoughts he had of her commuting to work on her crowded subway train.

she finished work everyday at 5:00 on the dot, not hesitating with goodbyes and salutations, knowing who was waiting outside her building, just for her.

he stood outside his cab, hand on the passenger door handle to let her when as she usually bounded out of work, a beam on her face when she saw him. he checked the time, a cigarette almost half-smoked between his bare fingers - he wasn't getting his leather gloves ashy.

5:15.

what was taking her so long?

he hated having to wait for his girl: seeing her face after driving around the city - a somewhat lonely profession - was the best part of his day.

he slumped his shoulders, leaning against the car door, as he peered over the dark, but lively street. it was a row of offices, and other people were also clocking out. bored, he watched the gray cloud of smoke from his mouth, trying to distinguish it from the puffs of his warm breath showing up in the chilly air.

5:20.

5:25.

5:30.

he was starting to get concerned.

finally, after an eternity of waiting - see: 35 minutes - his face relaxes when he sees her hurriedly walking out of her work. immediately after, his brow furrows, at the sight of the man following behind her, a big, stupid smile on his face, mouth moving a mile a minute.

she looks up, noticing jake, and her face breaks into a look of pure relief, finally, a pep in her step as she nears her boyfriend. before she can greet him though, the guy behind her grabs her shoulder, whipping her back around.

jake's eyes widen at the little fucker's audacity.

he's saying some bullshit, holding onto her shoulder so can't turn back to jake, and the steam coming out of his ears leads him to only hear:

"... come out for a drink with me... really pretty... love to take you out-"

it's more than enough.

he calls her name, voice stern, but not to her. never to her. she whipped her head around, not turning as she mumbles a weak goodbye to the man, finally completing the short distance to jake.

she kisses his cheek quickly in greeting,before waiting for him to open the door, but he pulls her a little closer by the waist, pressing her body against his.

"let me kiss you properly, mi amor. i haven't seen you all day." her cheeks heat. he literally never does this, waiting to properly express his love after they got home.

"he's still looking?" she guesses, and his lips quirk in a smile, as he presses his lips to her soft, slightly parted ones, revelling in how she sinks into the comfort of his warmth.

"like a kicked puppy." he murmurs into her lips, and she giggles, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, before pulling away.

"baby, open the door, i'm cold." she whines, and jake obliges her, pulling open the car door so she can sit back against the warm interior and crisp leather that he worked hard to maintain.

she only spares a glance at the other man. he's looking away.

"so, who was that?"

it had taken a couple hours, as well as the both of them reclining to the warmth of the couch - takeout clutched in their hands and a sitcom on the t.v. - for jake to finally ask the question nagging at the back of his mind.

she groans softly, hoping he'd forgotten. a silly wish.

"no one, jake." she murmurs quickly, to his immediate dissatisfaction.

"nuh-uh, amor, you have to give me more than that. he put his hands on you!" he said it like it was some inexcusable crime, and it made her giggle.

"he's just..." she sighs, chewing on her bite, "he's the new guy, y'know?" jake's eyes narrow.

"how long has he-"

"don't ask." she interrupts, knowing he'll be more upset if he found out the new guy's antics had occurred before. jake scowls, and she rolls her eyes, turning in the couch to better face him.

"jake~" she says his name softly, in a sing-song voice, prying the food from his hands and placing them on the coffee table. she cups his cheeks, running her fingers over his hair - messed up by that flat cap he always wore - and the little stubble on his face that he'd begun growing out when she professed she wanted to see him with a beard. she climbs slowly into his lap, guiding his arms to rest on the curve of her hips, "jake?" she finally asks again, as she's settled in.

"yes, mi amor?" his voice is gruff, as he lazily looks up at her. he's not shocked by her movements, happy to have her so close, but is still evidently stingy about the new guy.

"remind me, who did i go home with today?" she asks, rhetorically. jake rolls his eyes as he looks up at her.

"me, amor, but-"

"and who am i most excited to see whenever i leave work?"

"also me, but-"

"and who is the only person who gets to touch every part of me?" her voice drops to a whisper, guiding his warm fingertips under her shirt, to the skin of her midriff.

"me." he breathes out.

"you...?" she prompts.

"only me." satisfied with his answer, she leans down to press a soft kiss to his lips, cupping his scratchy cheeks, and giggling she he squeezes her hips.

"and who do i love?" she whispers, when she breaks away for air.

"i hate when you talk to me like a child." he chides, changing the subject, and it makes her giggle.

"wrong answer, try again." he raises a brow of challenge, before pulling her closer, and then standing up, his palms splayed under and cupping her thighs so he could carry her into their bedroom. she squeaks in shock, clinging onto him, "what're you doing?!"

"showing you why you love me."

falling unceremoniously on the bed, she lets out a small 'oof!', but its cut short by the way his mouth captures hers in a hungry kiss.

"someone's needy," she teases, when he breaks away, but it's cut off my a small moan, as his tongue travels down the length of her jaw, to her neck.

"i'll beat the shit out of him if he touches you again." jake grumbles into her skin.

"are you kidding? he obviously knows i have a boyfriend, he's leaving me alone." jake's head emerges from where he's kissing at her neck.

"hmm..." he looks contemplative, "maybe... he could do with a little reminder."

she's unsure what he's planning, but his devilish grin tips her off that it's going to be an idea she might chastise him for. indeed, it is.

his head sinks back down. finding the flesh of her neck, and rolling it gently between his teeth, before clamping a little harder, and sucking. so enamored by the sensation of the slight pain laved by the tingles of his warm tongue, she doesn't realize what he's doing for a moment.

"jake!" she squeaks when she realizes, "you can't - can't mark me!" his laugh is gruff against her skin.

"why not?" without waiting for an answer, his teeth nip at the skin under her collarbone. she gasps at the feeling, trying to tug at his hair to dissuade him - to no avail.

"oh, baby, it's such a pain in the ass to cover them-"

"then don't." the curt response renders her speechless for a moment, enough time for his teeth to sink into the flesh of her shoulder.

"you want him to see..." he laughs.

"that sure took you a moment, amor." seeing as she doesn't meaningfully try to stop him, he continues his work, teeth sinking into as much of the expanse of her neck and chest as he could reach.

they're blue and purple the next morning. she looked like she'd been attacked by something. her eyes quite literally bugged out of her head at the sight.

groaning, she reaches for her makeup bag. jake peeks his head into the bathroom, immediately taking the bag from her hands.

"jake-?" her brows furrow in confusion, but she's cut off by how his other arm wraps around her waist, looking at her in the mirror to see all the bruises smattered over her skin. she reaches blindly to take back her makeup, but he evades her hands, "jake, i need to do my makeup!" she whines softly, making her laugh and kiss her cheek.

"you're gonna cover them up." she scoffs.

"of course i'm gonna cover them up, i look like i was in an mma fight with a raccoon!" he shakes his head.

"no, you look like you had fantastic, animalistic sex with your boyfriend." she cringes a little, laughing.

"and why do my poor coworkers have to know that?" he deadpans.

"as long as your newbie knows." he murmurs, a little bitter, as a finger goes to trace the bruises.

"are we seriously still on that?" she turns to face him, kissing his cheek, "i thought i told you he's just annoys me a little." she assures.

"oh, trust me, amor. he won't from now on."

he didn't let her put her makeup on - even for her face, not trusting her to not start covering up those beautiful marks. instead, with the time she saved in between waking up and eating breakfast, he pulled her back to bed, kissing over each and every bruise, as their coffee water heated.

"you know i love you, right, jake?" she murmurs softly into his forehead, kissing his hairline.

"of course, mi amor. i love you, too." 'she's being so sweet, isn't she?' he thinks.

"can you tell me where you hid my makeup bag?" he snorts, shushing her with a kiss to the lips.

"fat chance."

he's waiting outside her work again, squishing his cigarette under the toe of his shoes as he sees her walking out. with no fucking newbie chasing after her.

"how was work?" he asks, as she presses her daily greeting kiss on his cheek.

"good." she answered, a big smile on her face, as he slowly opens the passenger door. before she sits down, though, he gestures to her neck and chest.

"show me." he instructs, and she laughs, pulling off her scarf to show that the bruises were still well-pronounced. it makes him smirk, as he nods appreciatively, sitting down.

as he peels away, he glances at her, noticing her happy attitude.

"so, did newbie bother you? should i say 'i told you so'?" he teases, and it makes her a little embarrassed.

"i... no, he didn't bother me." he grins.

"tell me more, come on."

"he... looked horrified, if i'm being honest." she giggles.

"good." his response was curt, but his smug smile spoke 1000 words. as he stopped at a red light, he leans over to peck her lips.

"so, should i say it?" she smiles, indulging him.

"go on."

"i told you so."

[hyog-blog]

The Story of Pearl Girl (ep.22 + ep.23)

Okay, now we seem to have entered a girly fluff zone, which, once again, is quite enjoyable but makes me wonder XD The brutality of past episodes is almost forgotten, now Su Muzhe is all about doing business and, hopefully, living her best life selling jewelry.

But my gut tells me that something is brewing ahead and that something's name is probably Yan Zijing. He's bent on destroying the Zheng family, and Su Muzhe is using one of the Zheng guys as her investor. This, all of it, is bound to backfire at some point, and YZJ warned her that he wouldn't stop when she told him she'd be staying in Yangzhou.

The show doesn't focus on their CP suffering too much, it's very low-key and situational. But whenever they meet - you can feel the pain, it's still there. Nevertheless, life goes on, and each of them chose to walk their own path, which is quite a grown-up thing to do, actually.

These two episodes were mostly about girlpower, female cruelty, and Su Muzhe acting like a true disciple of Yan Zijin. There are scenes in which she mirrors his psycho/stabby energy like they've never parted! A glimpse of viciousness and readiness to strike, showing her inner strength and the past that made her who she is now.

Actually, I love those glimpses a lot XD I think it's one of the reasons why Su Muzhe and Yan Zijin match so well - they are similar in many aspects, including courage, stubbornness, and a certain flair for violence. I'm really interested in how she will play around the Zheng family issue - I'm sure Yan Zijing will make them fall at some point. By then, she needs to become independent enough so they won't drag her down with them.

Su Muzhe helping a friend in need, when her man dumped her. It's all about girls helping girls in these last few episodes.

The beauty & talent contest / beauty show / male power games that use pretty women to dominate the scene or to prove a point. Once again, I have to admire the visuals - everything is so pretty!

Pure eye-candy. I just love how all the scenes are made - the lighting, the color palette, the camera work. It's very movie-worthy. And of course, no beauty contest is complete without some backstabbing, which wasn't the worst I've seen in cdrama - just some ripped shoes and destroyed dresses.

I mean, just look at the production! I don't know why I'm enjoying this so much, but I am XD It's like they've carefully planned the visuals for every scene (which, probably, is how it's supposed to be done, but I'm still paying extra attention to all the details).

The pipa player who tried to outsmart everyone ended up losing a nail along with her dignity in front of the whole crowd. A bit bloody, a bit messy. Had the audacity to confront Su Muzhe and slap her, but our girl was having none of that and hit her back, showing some of her darker colors and channeling a bit of YZJ (or actually, just herself). But at that moment I thought that he taught her well XD

Girls being girls, having fun, drinking, and chatting about opening their jewelry shop. Warm fuzzy fluff, which I happen to enjoy :3 I hope Su Muzhe realizes her full potential and becomes as powerful and strong as she wants.

Just enjoying the set, and the geometry of it all.

[alicenaivory]

•𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐇𝐲𝐦𝐧𝐬 —II•

[I wonder if the Damned goes without a soul?

A soul could be something pure and flawless or as marked and stained as fresh red wine spilling over a clean carpet. I never knew what to think of mine. I assume it all comes down to what I feed it.

To inflict the pain and suffering of others was pleasurable to me. Did it mean I had the soul of a sadist? Something vile and wrong as far as the human eye is concerned but their perception is nothing I ever cared for.

I often would wonder if I shared a soul. I’m always captured between what I desire or what would calm the voices that drive me into insanity.

I know my influence, the power of my seduction…

I’m a poison you’d drink willingly because nothing ever tasted so sweet.

But I also know the influence of theirs and their power over me.

Dangerous enough to carve a hole to my brain.

“Aggghhh!!

Please!

Somebody help me!”

A scoff emits from maroon painted lips, finding this tortured man screams to be amusing. His suffering was something to feast upon but this time it wasn’t just about me. His blood was the farthest thing from my mind.

To soothe my soul or quiet the voices. It was a constant internal battle. Both called to me and /demanded/ everything of me.

I have the man bound and strapped tightly to a metal chair. My body covered in a leather corset with thigh high boots. The seducing appearance that had him falling to his knees at first sight.

‘More screams! More pain’

The voices say to me, causing my right eye to twitch as I find myself digging further and more viciously into the squishiness of his eye ball. His blood started to pour out of the wound and roll down my fingers. He winced and screamed, begging to be relieved of a pain and suffering he’s never endured in his lifetime.

I sighed in satisfaction, feeding off his pain for it was nothing more than my pleasure and revenge...

I was convinced that he was problematic. Someone in my way. Ever since that night I seen him, he was a nagging in my brain.

My eyes rolled in the back of my head for mere seconds before I’m looking down at him again.]

You want mercy?

[I asked as though I were appalled at the audacity of him to ask for it. A pig like him has the nerve to ask for mercy after the things he’s done. I take my thumb from his eye, coming around to stand in front of him as I plop myself down onto his lap to straddle his waist.

I bring my index finger to plush lips, dragging my tongue along his blood in a seducing kind of way. I could taste his fear and sense it through his fast heartbeat. No matter what I had done it wasn’t enough to make his body stop calling to me…

That’s what makes me different from any other killer.

The devotion of my prey that came absentmindedly without compulsion.]

Is mercy what you’ve been showing the women at your club, Sammy?

[“What? What the hell are you talking abo—“

My hand strikes him across his cheek, placing the leather muzzle back over his mouth.

Am I a joke to him? I thought…

He locks that one eye with mine and he lies. I slipped myself off his lap, offended by dishonesty.]

Lying is unnecessary when I’ve watched you. It’s disrespectful.

[I confessed to him, thinking back to how this started and what brings him this fate. It comes back to the night I lashed out and left Sabine’s club. I was on my way back to where I was staying, taking a short cut through the alleyway to keep a low profile and that’s when I came across the commotion.

A door swinging open, a man shouting at a woman. She was half dressed, flinching from his hand that threatened to hit her across the face. I can tell he’s done it before.

His words were degrading and dehumanizing. He wasn’t talking to me so why should I care? Did I even believe that everyone deserved respect? I thought I only cared for my own.

The blonde woman shouted back at him, defending herself the best she could.

I was intrigued by the fight in her, it caught my attention. She might��ve even reminded me of myself a little. No matter what she’d get her point across even if it costed her everything.

“I’m not a slut! I’m a fucking dancer and he had no right to touch me! He asked for a private dance and that’s what I gave him! I don’t owe him my body!” She cried, stumbling back from him. “You’ll do whatever the hell I tell you to now get back in here, Tina!” He demanded, pulling her in but she snatches away “No! Know what?! I quit!” She stood up to him, running off down the alley.

By his luck he didn’t chase her, he just flicked her off and told her she’d be nothing.

The sight of him made my stomach turn, his piggish behavior left a bad taste in my mouth.

It’s men like him that makes the world a far worse place.

‘You kill all the time but this is different. You have to get rid of him.’

From that moment on it was my self dedication to put an end to him. Soul redemption…

Rather or not I had one. Did it matter to me?

Besides this wasn’t just a kill to me. It was personal. He shouldn’t get to treat women like this. Especially the women trying to make a living for themselves like everyone else. Their allowed to use their beauty and it should be respected.

I used mine to seduce and kill all the time…

I invaded his club, it was easy and killing him would’ve been even easier but the predatory instinct inside of me wanted more. To gain his attention, gather his trust and have him aching at the bones for me.

I had his attention the moment I stepped foot in there. Just as I captured the attention of everyone else and I always got what I wanted.

And now I have him here. Helpless and begging for his life.

I look back at him after gathering recollection of everything that led us here. He looks at me with his only swollen eye, the other nearly gouged out. I slowly pulled the muzzle back away from his mouth.]

Your were supposed to protect them. Those beautiful dancers of yours…

They trusted your club, I mean the least you can do is make sure their safe? Or do you not have any decency left in you at all?

[“Is this what this is about? You feel sorry for those whores?” He spat the blood from his lips, tilting his head back to rest on the rest of the chair. Did I care for them? Not at all. I’d kill them in a heartbeat without reason. I made killing him personal to me.

But why?

Did he remind me of someone? If that then who?]

You kiss your mother with that mouth?

[I asked as I come forward, raising my knee and pressing it down into his crotch. I hovered over him, each time I come closer the more uncomfortable pressure I was adding. There’s a hint of red in my eyes, a color that blurred my vision as my rage intensifies towards him.]

Words are a weapon which is why you shouldn’t have a tongue to speak them!

[Within a blink of the eye I use the sharp tip of nails to force open his mouth, biting my nails into the soft pink muscle before I snatched it out mercilessly.]

You got careless with your power over them. You called those girls nothing but it’s you who are nothing…

[I waste no time to plunge my hand inside of his change and pull it out. The fresh hole would make it difficult for him to breath through his lungs. Leaving him no other choice but to suffocate.]

The world will go on without you and won’t miss a beat.

[I make him feel low, similar to the way he discouraged everyone else around him. I had to knock him off that pedestal.

I push off of him, listening to his quiet screams that were gargled from pools of blood forming in his mouth. I turn my back to him, knowing that my work here was finally done here but I still feel a lingering feeling of emptiness and confusion.

Did I kill him because I did care about the girls?

I couldn’t say but part of me still cares about decency and respect despite all the monstrosities I commit.

I’m not just rage, meaningless violence or chaos to get rocks off.

I’m calculated, smart and lethal.

That’s what made me a force.]

[daimyosprincess]

ELIZA OH MY GOD oh my god oH mY gOd THIS WAS JUST 🥵🤌🤭😈😩😭🤯🫨🫠 just an absolute scrumptious spicy delicious treat!!!!! Everything I hoped for and more!!!!! Like bro I thought I knew how to brat and rile up my mans but HOLY SHIT did you blow it out of the water with this one bestie, had me taking notes over here 😮‍💨 Then both mean Boba AND the tender check in at the end??? He just cares so much for his little princess (and he's such a show off sksksksksk) 😭

Another amazing Boba fic for the books y'all from one of the best Boba authors out there 🤩😍 TL;DR Y'ALL COME GET Y'ALL BOBA JUICE

I will attempt to do not a complete play by play below the cut but no promises

You knew how Boba the Daimyo handled you. But…how would Boba the bounty hunter?

OK SO we obviously know that Daddy Daimyo Boba is my one true love but Mean Bounty Hunter Boba??? .........🥴🥴🥴 it's that danger and competence kink for meeeeee

Boba still sat on his throne, powerful thighs spread like an invitation too good to refuse, as you made your way to him. ... “What game are you playing at, little one?” He patted his thigh, a command he expected to be obeyed. “Been a long day.”

Such a good lines 🤌 love me some Boba thighs hehehe

Boba was on you in an instant, and you couldn’t help but loose a shriek as you were pulled into his lap before you could blink. Damn, that was quick. Quicker than when you had anticipated. And you’d thought you’d given him a wide enough berth. He curled his arms around you, pinning you to his armored chest, and pressed his face against your neck, breath hot and scalding - voice low like the thunder of an oncoming storm. “Wanna flirt with death, little one?” He nibbled your earlobe between his teeth, a low growl rumbling from the depths of his throat, sending heat pooling between your legs. “Fine. But we both know you’re biting off more than you can chew.”

OH MY GOD SNATCH ME UP DADDY press me tight up against your big broad chest and taunt me in that rumbley voice of yours UUUNNGGGFGFF

“Please, please don’t stop. I’ll do anything, I’d let you do anything,” you pressed against him with a whine, meeting his waiting gaze as you made your plea. “Fuck me bound. Even if I said no. Make me yours, break me, ruin me, I don’t care. I just want…wanna…” ... “I want you to hunt me.” You forced yourself to speak, even as his eyes darkened, his fingers slowly caressing you again. “Chase me down, and capture me. Use me as you see fit. That’s…that’s what I want.”

There are no words, just purely manifesting this for me from Boba the predator/prey kink jumped out of my body reading this

The shadows had crept over the foliage, enshrouding the trees in darkness, hiding the armor that would have otherwise glinted in the sun.

Another banger of a line!!!!

“Careful, little mouse,” his voice was cutting, sinfully victorious, as he knelt beside you. Kriffing hell, you knew he was smirking underneath that damn helmet. “Wouldn’t want you getting hurt. You’re worth more alive.”

*the feminism leaving my body reading this* WOW I SURE WOULD LOVE FOR BOBA FETT TO TREAT MY LIKE AN OBJECT ON THIS FINE EVENING. JUST MANHANDLE ME AND PATRONIZE ME AND-

“I know you can hear me under there, bucket head.” You rolled your eyes with a scoff. “Or are you as deaf as you are dumb?” ... “What exactly did I do, huh?” You would have crossed your arms if you could. Instead, you opted to dramatically shrug. “Shouldn’t be too hard to list off my crimes. That is, if big words aren’t too much for a brute like you.” ... You had the audacity to roll your eyes, spitting out your tongue to goad him further. “Sorry, but I have standards. I don’t fuck trigger happy bounty hunters.”

BITCH!!!!!!!! THE GASP THAT I GASPED OUT FUCKING LOUD AT THAT LAST ONE OH MY GODDDDDDD RIP MY PUSSY IT WAS GREAT KNOWING HER!!!!!! BECAUSE BOBA IS GOING TO PUT HER 6 FEET UNDER AND I WANT HIM TO DO IT!!!!

“Didn’t give you permission to say my name,” his voice was all thunder and hellfire even as he seated himself in you with one brutal thrust. “It’s Sir to you.” ... “I don’t know, not sure you deserve it,” he slowed his pace to a torturous crawl, slowly sliding through you, the wet sounds painfully loud in your ears even as you cried out in frustration. “Got your manners yet, little one? Have you learned your lesson?”

Why is so fucking hot??????? Why?????

You narrowed your eyes as he removed his helmet, mirth shining in his own. “Exactly how soon had you found me?” You titled your head to meet his gaze. “Oh, little princess,” he pressed a kiss to your temple, then your cheek, and finally, your lips. “You never left my sight.”

"You never left my sight" I AM IN SHAMBLES!!!!! Number one (1) because DAMN that competency kink is going to choke the daylights out of me (also hot) and then number two because 🗣️BOBA FETT CARES ABOUT HIS LITTLE PRINCESS SO MUCH AND HE WOULD STOP AT NOTHING TO MAKE SURE SHE'S SAFE AND THAT REALLY MAKES MY PUSSY THROB🗣️

Alriiiight! As I promised to @daimyosprincess - here at long last is Small Favors! This fic…sheesssshhh, this fic. It almost destroyed me! It’s absolute pure filth borne of one too many days of Boba brain rot, so buckle up, people!

Enjoy the ride! 🫠😉

(Zwei, this basically ended up being dedicated to you after all the lovely prof Boba content you’ve been giving us. I hope it lives up to your expectations! 💚🖤)

TW: NSFW, minors dni. This contains smut - predator/prey, fingering, dirty talk, pre-discussed non-consensual sex, piv, f!receiving, bondage, dom!Boba, pet names, teasing, slight degradation, all the usual suspects 🙃

Small Favors

The day Boba Fett called you a hellion, you were pretty certain it altered your brain chemistry.

To make things worse? He’d said it on his way out of the door, dressed in full armor, heading down to the throne room for yet another day of rulership.

Leaving you alone to ruminate on his words.

That simply wouldn’t do. You tried to be his good girl - lounging on his bed, boredly counting the cracks in the ceiling, doing as you’d been told…but where was the fun in that? You couldn’t help but let your imagination take over, wandering to a particular scenario that had intrigued you as of late.

Oh, the Daimyo was strong. Powerful, capable of overpowering you in seconds despite your best attempts to put up a fight. You could never forget it, no matter how many times he pleasured you senseless. But it made you wonder…

You knew how Boba the Daimyo handled you. But…how would Boba the bounty hunter? The mere thought of your love hunting you down like prey sent thrills coursing through you. But you’d been hesitant to mention it, given how many times he’d openly stated those days were behind him.

But the day was crawling miserably by, the hours even longer, and you needed a distraction. You knew you’d probably regret it, even as you stood and got dressed. But right now, you felt like doing something dangerous.

You were going to play with fire.

-

You were merciful (or smart) enough to wait for his last visitor to leave for the day, but not a moment longer. You struck before he had the chance to get up.

Boba still sat on his throne, powerful thighs spread like an invitation too good to refuse, as you made your way to him. His eyes followed your every step, hunger unabashedly flaring in his amber gaze.

But instead of sitting in his lap as he surely expected, you skirted around the throne, tracing a lone nail along his armor as you walked behind him. He reached for you, but you dodged his fingers with a smirk, tapping the back of his head instead.

“See you’re in a teasing mood.” His voice was gruff, tinged with exhaustion from the day’s tedious events, but you pressed on, still staying right out of his reach.

“I don’t don’t know what you mean,” you tapped his pauldron with another grin, and he shifted to face you, eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

“What game are you playing at, little one?” He patted his thigh, a command he expected to be obeyed. “Been a long day.”

Oh, you were at war. You knew it was probably in your best interest to do as he said, and he was tired, after all. Perhaps he’d be too tired to play along. But…you didn’t want to throw your plan out the window just yet.

“Maybe you need some exercise. Wouldn’t want your skills to go to waste.” You raised a brow, stepping around the armrest and stopping before him, still out of his direct range. “Why don’t you come get me?”

Boba arched a dark brow, gaze locked on you, completely still. You realized a moment too late he was waiting for you to continue. Either that, or calculating his next move. Probably both. It sent a thrill coursing through you.

“I…”

“What’s this about, hmm?” He crossed his broad arms over his even broader chest, heaving a deep breath that flexed his beskar plates as he fixed you with a quizzical expression bordering intrigue. “Wanna play hard to get? We both know how that would go.”

Ahh, there it was, your golden ticket. That, or the action that would seal your doom. At this point, you’d already committed, and it was too late to back out, now.

“I don’t think you could catch me, old man.” You smirked, hands on your hips, looking at up at him with a raised brow. “You’re a Daimyo now. Lots and lots of sitting. You’re bound to lose your edge.”

Oh, you knew you were asking for trouble.

Boba regarded you evenly, a small smirk working its way on the corner of his lip. Those thick, skillful, beautiful lips. Oh, he did too.

“Is that so?” He looked down at you, eyes narrowing imperceptibly, a teasing lilt to his voice. Ahh, so he was humoring you. Good. “So confident today, mesh’la.”

You had the audacity, or stupidity depending on who you asked, to spit your tongue out at him. Him, Boba Fett. You were probably one of the few that ever could and live to tell the tale.

“Definitely.” You made a dramatic show of shrugging, making sure you leaned forward just enough to let the low neckline of your shirt do its job. “In fact, I don’t even think it would be hard. I’m fast, cunning too. I bet I’d even be able to outsmart the greatest bounty hunter who ever-”

Boba was on you in an instant, and you couldn’t help but loose a shriek as you were pulled into his lap before you could blink. Damn, that was quick. Quicker than when you had anticipated. And you’d thought you’d given him a wide enough berth. He curled his arms around you, pinning you to his armored chest, and pressed his face against your neck, breath hot and scalding - voice low like the thunder of an oncoming storm.

“Wanna flirt with death, little one?” He nibbled your earlobe between his teeth, a low growl rumbling from the depths of his throat, sending heat pooling between your legs. “Fine. But we both know you’re biting off more than you can chew.”

Oh kriffing gods.

You somehow managed to pull two halves of a thought together to form a sentence.

“Wanna test that? Give me two days. Bet you can’t catch me.” You shot him a smirk and shrugged. “Who knows, it could be fun.”

“And what would I get in return?” Boba’s voice was cold, calculating. Calculating, as he watched you, eyes narrowed, studying your blown out pupils and shallow breaths. He had to know you found this arousing. Especially if his hunter senses were still keen.

“Anything,” you confidently met his gaze, even as his grip on you tightened. “Anything you want.”

He fell silent for a moment, chest heaving, heart thundering beneath the beskar. A sly smirk curved on the corner of his lip, accompanied with a cutting gleam in his eyes, and it was then that you realized you were screwed.

“Anything.” He mirrored, dipping his head to meet your neck, sucking a bite on your pulse point. You bit back a moan despite your best efforts, far too keenly aware as one of his hands slid down your side and settling on your inner thigh, dangerously close to your crotch. “But you’ve already given me everything, mesh’la. Why would I risk losing what is already mine?”

Oh maker, he was playing with you. Making this harder than necessary. Punishing you for disobeying him.

“Umm, I…” you swallowed hard as his hand slipped between your legs, stifling another moan as he slowly, gently, torturously caressed your clothed clit. Gods, this wasn’t how you’d expected this to go. “I…just thought it would be fun, ya know? I’m always…maker…always wanting to try new things with you.”

He hummed, kissing your neck again, then your ear, your cheek, and finally your lips. He kissed you like a starved man, greedily nipping at your lips, tongue carving a path into your mouth, claiming you as his. He slipped his hand underneath your pants, your underwear the only barrier, deft fingers already bringing that coiling heat closer to the surface. You bucked against him, chasing his fingers, and he kept you flush with his chest with a growl.

“So my little princess wants to be hunted, hmm?” He had the audacity to lick a stripe up your neck as he circled your arching clit. “She wants to be hunted like a bounty? Like prey? That what you really want, little one? To feel helpless? Trapped with nowhere to go? Darling, I’ll show you helpless.”

You could only nod, a whimper breaking from your throat when he slowed his movements, delaying your pleasure. It nearly brought tears to your eyes. Dammit, this was supposed to be your game, not his, and yet you found yourself unraveling in his clutches yet again.

“Please, please don’t stop. I’ll do anything, I’d let you do anything,” you pressed against him with a whine, meeting his waiting gaze as you made your plea. “Fuck me bound. Even if I said no. Make me yours, break me, ruin me, I don’t care. I just want…wanna…”

You fell silent, embarrassment flaring your cheeks, but you should have known that he wouldn’t let you get away with silence. His free hand gripped your chin and tilted your face up to meet his, just forcefully enough to make his point.

“Say it.”

There was no room for disobedience now. Not when you were literally at his mercy. Not when his command rolled through you, making you tremble with excitement.

“I want you to hunt me.” You forced yourself to speak, even as his eyes darkened, his fingers slowly caressing you again. “Chase me down, and capture me. Use me as you see fit. That’s…that’s what I want.”

He chuckled darkly, the sound echoing on the stone walls, as he zeroed in on your clit again, your pleasure nearly bubbling to the surface.

“So much begging, poor princess,” his voice was a mocking coo as he wrung the pleasure out of you, your vision going white, jaw slack as your orgasm hit with the force of a speeding train. “You’ll have one day, sweet thing. One day to run, and when it’s over, you’ll be begging me to come for you.”

-

You should have believed him.

Should have realized how hard he’d make this for you. But you’d been confidently foolish, going so far as to travel off world to some backwater forest planet on a neighboring system - albeit sparely populated…just to be safe.

But as the minutes had ticked to hours, and hours into the evening, there still had been no sign of your hunter. Whether this was because he was toying with you, or you’d actually given him the slip, you didn’t know - but you pressed on anyway. And as the cerulean sky faded to lilac and crimson hues, you started to worry.

You’d taken a one way trip to get here, even hired a smuggler to fly you. Anything to make it more exciting. More real.

But perhaps you’d gone too far.

You couldn’t help but feel a sliver of worry cut through your chest. Maybe you’d been overconfident, going to such lengths. What if he had lost his edge? What if he couldn’t find you? You’d be stuck alone, on a strange planet, with nothing but a short range commlink to try to call for help.

Stars, you also missed him. Missed his voice, his touch. You’d underestimated how quickly you’d tire of his absence - and as you slipped through the trees, slowing to a leisurely walk, you finally let your guard down, too lost in your whirling thoughts to keep playing the game you insisted on from the start.

The shadows had crept over the foliage, enshrouding the trees in darkness, hiding the armor that would have otherwise glinted in the sun.

You didn’t seem him until it was too late.

Strong arms suddenly wrenched yours behind your back, throwing you off balance and against a nearby tree. Your scream broke the silence, unheard in the miles of uncharted wilderness, unable to break free from the vise like grip clamping down on your wrists.

Boba’s breath flared hot like blaster fire on your cheek as he pushed you against the tree. The rough bark bit into your skin, only a minor fleeing pain, the true cause for your panic currently locking your arms behind your back in a vice like grip.

“Really thought you’d give me the slip, hmm?” His deep voice was rough and staticky with the helmet, tone absolutely deadly as he lifted his binders to your wrists. “Poor little girl.”

You clenched your legs at that - unable to stop the reaction from pushing your brain off the edge, diving into a freefall. Damn it, not yet. You couldn’t let him have his victory this easy. You had to be more of a challenge, flustered brain or not.

“Let. Me. Go!” You twisted in his grasp, tucking up your legs and lashing out with a kick to his chest.

He grunted, the force of your attack pushing him back a few centimeters - just enough space for you to work with. You broke free, heart locked in your throat, and spun around the tree to give you some distance.

You knew you couldn’t win. He was the better fighter in every way - an opponent you’d never once been able to beat, despite your own skill. But just because you knew you were going to lose didn’t mean you were going to go down without a fight.

The trees whipped past in a blur as you carved a wild, desperate path deeper into the foliage. All was silent save for the crashing of your boots through the fallen leaves - the first warning that you were doomed. The second warning came too late.

A sharp prick bit into your shoulder, and your reflexes reacted too late - a scream stuck in your throat when a whipcord whipped around your body - throwing you to the ground. You could already feel the effects of the tranquillized taking over - vision blurring at the edges even as you still struggled in vain. Even as Boba stepped into your rapidly fading sight, armor glinting in the sunlight.

“Careful, little mouse,” his voice was cutting, sinfully victorious, as he knelt beside you. Kriffing hell, you knew he was smirking underneath that damn helmet. “Wouldn’t want you getting hurt. You’re worth more alive.”

You felt the moment the binders slapped on your wrists, sealing your fate…

And then your vision went dark.

-

By the time you awoke, the Slave 1 was already well in sight.

You were slung over Boba’s shoulder like a carcass, arms and legs limply dangling, mind still buzzing from the sedative he’d given you. You tried to open your mouth to speak, but your words were a pathetic slur.

He either didn’t hear you, or was ignoring you. You could feel the strength of him, muscles coiled underneath armor - all sinew and power. He held you with one arm, but you knew you’d never escape, that large gloved hand locked around your neck. You whimpered as the ramp lowered, ushering you both inside - inside to whatever fate he had planned for you. It closed, sealing you both in, and dooming you.

You couldn’t help but feel a thrill as he unceremoniously dropped you to the ground, right outside the cells. You wondered if he’d cage you in one to make the experience more real, but Boba seemed to have other ideas. He grabbed your bound arms and drug you across the floor, ignoring your shrieks of protest when he stopped in the center of the cargo hold.

Boba was quiet - he hadn’t said a word since your capture, and part of you wondered if it was part of the act, or if it was truly upset at the lengths you’d gone to evade him. So, you tried to take matters into your own hands.

“Please, I didn’t do anything wrong. I bet of you, let me go!” Your broken voice was truthfully cracked, parched after your strenuous day. “I’ll do anything, I swear I didn’t do anything wrong!”

Boba Fett had the audacity to ignore you. In fact, he turned his back on you, lifting his gauntlet to key in a code. A mixture of indignation and embarrassment flooded your chest, prompting your next move.

“I know you can hear me under there, bucket head.” You rolled your eyes with a scoff. “Or are you as deaf as you are dumb?”

“You know what you did.” His voice was low like thunder - cutting. A very different tone than the one he oh so often used with you.

This…this was entirely different. Excitement mixed with fear coursed down your spine as he slowly turned, that black t-visor locked on you with deadly focus.

But you wouldn’t be deterred that easily.

“What exactly did I do, huh?” You would have crossed your arms if you could. Instead, you opted to dramatically shrug. “Shouldn’t be too hard to list off my crimes. That is, if big words aren’t too much for a brute like you.”

Boba lunged forward with the speed of a viper, taking you entirely by surprise when his fingers gripped your chin, absolutely wrenching your face up to meet his - albeit hidden behind that helmet. And you were starting to realize why many would find it so terrifying. Heart hammering in your chest, you whimpered when his fingers squeezed your jaw, effectively clamping your mouth shut.

“Mouthy little brat, aren’t you?” His helmet was inches away, your panting breaths fogging the visor as he lowered his hand from your jaw to your neck. “Could just put you away in a cell. Would be what you deserve. But I might have to teach you a lesson.”

Oh gods. You swallowed, hard, and couldn’t resist the urge to wriggle beneath him, breaths growing shallower by the moment.

“You? Teach me a lesson? In your dreams.” You had the audacity to roll your eyes, spitting out your tongue to goad him further. “Sorry, but I have standards. I don’t fuck trigger happy bounty hunters.”

Boba Fett had the audacity to chuckle. A deep, dark chuckle that rumbled through your chest and tingled down your spine. Oh shit…you were in trouble. Big trouble.

“Is that so?” He gave your neck a squeeze, his free hand gripping your binders with another dark snicker. “Poor little kitten’s trying to give me orders? Ironic.”

His hand left your throat, and you yelped as he single-handedly picked you up by the binders, lifting you into the air, and pinned you against the ship’s wall. He magnetized the binders with a soft buzz, then left you dangling there - your toes barely able to touch the floor.

“What the hell?” You huffed, straining to reach the ground, heartbeat hammering so loudly you could barely concentrate, even as you felt his gloved fingers caress your jawline. “Let me down! Stop this, I mean it. Let me go, you kriffing jerk!”

Boba ignored you, helmet titling slowly to the side as if tracking his own journey tracing your neck until it stopped just above your shirt.

“You asked for this, little one.” His tone was impossibly husky, dark and rich like spotchka on the back of your throat. “You have a choice, kitten. You can either fight me, or…”

His hand slipped under your shirt, burrowing beneath your bra, and caressing your nipple with deft, skilled fingers.

“Choose to enjoy it.” He pinched your nipple too hard, and you yelped, thrashing even as he slowed back to a caress. “Your choice - but you’re not getting out of this.”

“N-no, please,” you tried to shy away, but he wouldn’t have it, pinning you to the wall with one hand, the other lifting from your shirt and wandering ever so slowly lower. “I’ll…comply. I’ll do anything. Just…please don’t hurt me.”

He chuckled, hand settling just above your crotch.

“Still giving orders, hmm? That’s not how this works.” He deftly unzipped your pants and slipped his hand into your waiting heat, a dry hiss emitting from his vocoder when he found the evidence of your arousal. “Dirty, dirty girl. Getting off on this? My, my.”

He circled your aching clit, and you cried out, trying to arch against him, breaths coming in near choked gasps as he quickly worked you towards oblivion. Damn, his patience must have flown out of the window. Perhaps he…

Just when you were on the precipice, Boba pulled his hand away. You cried out on frustration, heart pounding like a drum when he dropped his hands to his own pants, pulling his weeping cock free from its confines.

“Little kitten looks like she wants milk.” His voice was a sinister coo as he ran his thick shaft through your slick. “Poor baby.”

You whined - you couldn’t help it. You couldn’t stop the moan that ripped from your chest when his fingers once again found your clit, wringing your pleasure back to the surface. But yet again, when you were on so close, he pulled away.

“Ah, ah, ah, not so fast.” He raised his hand to your mouth, and you begrudgingly licked your arousal off his gloves. “You’ll come only when I tell you too. Can you be a good girl and do that?”

“Boba…I…” you writhed, pleading, but he promptly removed his hand from your clit with a growl.

“Didn’t give you permission to say my name,” his voice was all thunder and hellfire even as he seated himself in you with one brutal thrust. “It’s Sir to you.”

Your eyes widened, moans bouncing off the durasteel walls as he pounded into you, somehow feeling even bigger than normal. Your hands clattered uselessly against the wall, pleasure arcing up your spine as a steady heat grew in the pit of your stomach.

You cried out when he changed the angle, his cock hitting that deep spot that made you see stars. You writhed against him, legs wrapping around his back, trying to force him deeper. He growled, not slowing his pace in the slightest, and you whimpered when a hand reached up and tweaked a nipple.

“Bo-Sir…I…I’m,” you hated how pathetic you sounded, begging like some weak willed thing. But you felt it, your orgasm approaching like a speeding train, and there would be little you could do to stop it. “I’m…so close. Can I, can I…”

“I don’t know, not sure you deserve it,” he slowed his pace to a torturous crawl, slowly sliding through you, the wet sounds painfully loud in your ears even as you cried out in frustration. “Got your manners yet, little one? Have you learned your lesson?”

Oh Maker, he was torturing you. This was not how you had expected this to go - this was calculated, focused, intentional.

“I’m…I’m sorry. So sorry. P-please…” tears pricked your eyes, and you swore he was driving you absolutely mad, edging you with a calculated skill he hadn’t done before. “I take it all back. I’ll be good…I’ll behave. Just please, please…”

He pulled nearly out of you, helmet pressed against your shoulder, rasping voice directly in your ear.

“Please…what?” He stopped moving entirely until the only sound that could be heard was your desperate panting.

“Please, please let me come.” A tear slipped down your cheek, more from the building denial than anything else. “I’ll…I’ll be a good girl. Your girl.”

Boba grunted, pounding back into you with renewed vigor, one hand finding your neck, the other, your clit. He fucked you relentlessly - your back slamming into the wall as the edges of your vision dimmed.

When you finally came, your vision went completely white - all sound reduced to a ringing as burning hot pleasure seared you to your core. You screamed, writhing against him even as he continued driving into you, less focused and more reckless, chasing his own high.

“There you go, kitten.” His voice was dark with list, armor flashing in the dim lighting. “Not so hard, hmm?”

When he came, it was with a deep groan that reverberated into your chest. He had you pressed against the wall, helmet against your neck, breaths rasping as he finally slowed to a stop.

For a moment, all was silent save both of your panting breaths. Boba was completely still, and for a moment, you worried he was genuinely angry. Had you gone too far? Had you done something wrong? Had you-

His hands reached up and unlocked your binders, catching you before you could fall to the floor. You couldn’t help but cling to him as he carried you to the cockpit, gently laying you in the small cot.

“You okay, my love?” His voice had regained some of its warmth, but still carried a dark edge. “Hope I wasn’t too rough with you.”

“I’m okay,” you nodded, meeting the visor with a small smile. “You weren’t. I’m honestly impressed you found me so quickly.”

He grunted, sitting beside you, gloved hand slowly caressing your hair.

“Didn’t expect you to leave Tatooine.” The helmet tilted in your direction. “You had me worried, little one.”

Oh stars. Had you gone too overboard? It hasn’t crossed your mind that Boba Fett would be afraid.

“Oh…I’m so sorry,” you curled into his chest, holding him close. “I’d only wanted to make it realistic. I didn’t want to worry you.”

“It’s okay,” he wrapped his arms around you and held you close. “Only startled me initially. Gotta admit it was fun, watching you trying to give me the slip. It was cute.”

Wait a second.

You narrowed your eyes as he removed his helmet, mirth shining in his own.

“Exactly how soon had you found me?” You titled your head to meet his gaze.

“Oh, little princess,” he pressed a kiss to your temple, then your cheek, and finally, your lips. “You never left my sight.”

Taglist: @daimyosprincess @hideflen @thirsty-boba-fett-posts @marierg @deewithani @rain-on-kamino @rexxdjarin @ceapa-mica @bobathirstaccount

[suna-reversed]

𝐩𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡

toji fushiguro x reader

You could have anyone you want

Why would you want to be with me?

I’m nothing special

WC- 8k+ || MINORS DNI !!

my fic for the “great conjunction collab”

Warnings/tags- (unprotected sex, oral sex, slight voyeurism, choking, nipple play, mating press, size kink, slight breeding kink) (historical AU, non-canon timeline, greek mythology, hades-persephone retelling, mentions of misogyny/sexism, depression, religion, hurt/comfort, angst, heartbreak, major character injury, descriptions of blood, violence and death, manipulation)

𝙀𝙧𝙞𝙙𝙖 - 𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙙

It would be an understatement to say that Toji, despite being one of them, had never felt like part of the clan and had hated the whole Zenin bloodline through all his years of suffering.

And the only thing he hated more than his own blood? It was the damned nobles who looked down upon him- mocking his lack of power under whispers and rumours. The spineless cowards didn’t even have the courage to spit those venomous words at his face.

He kept note of every single one of them- it was hard not to with how their laughs echoed in his mind each night as he dug his nails into his palms. So of course his attention was bound to drift towards the mother and daughter from a titled family that happened to take residence in the Zenin estate when they got news that their home down-south had been attacked. 

𝘼𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙚𝙖- 𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙥𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙮

Your home had not been attacked. It was all planned of course- your travel to the mountains up north that crossed the Zenin abode, your mother having fabricated the news so that she had an excuse to find an honourable match for you from one of the most powerful clans. Her sly spies had already done the dirty work, providing you with two suitable men- even if one of them was twice your own age and the other known for his aggressiveness. 

The white gown your mother had dolled you in and the orchids she had braided into your hair had every single eye focused on you as you made your way up to your chambers. You kept your head down, too nervous to meet the eye of anyone- hoping no older man took an interest in your facade of purity and innocence and decided to stake his claim on your body. Oh, how you wished you could get away from this life, get away from the wretched woman you had to call your mother, get away from all of it- the stupid clan- the stupid suitors- the stupi-

“Ah!” 

You yelped as your body crashed into what seemed to be a rock hard wall of muscles, the scent of night chilled mist and cedar taking over your senses. You blinked. 

Gulping, you moved back a step, ready to start sputtering apologies before your mother peeled your skin off for already having embarrassed yourself. Instead, your words stayed stuck in your throat as your gaze met with an intense pair of orbs- filled to the brim with the rage of achilles, but somehow also his sorrow. Your breath hitched in your throat, and in the back of your mind, you knew you should do something- move, apologise, scowl like a noble lady would if nothing else- but all you could do was stand there stunned, the man’s stance mirroring your own. 

You flinched as the pot-bellied butler who was leading you down the hallway came back, and you thought the dark haired man might kill him right there for interrupting the burning moment between you two. Instead, you were shocked as he let himself get pushed to the side, stuffing his hands into his pockets, head down as he made a beeline towards the exit.

You barely felt the crescent moons being engraved into your skin as your mother dragged you to your room by the arm, a clipped smile on her face. 

𝙊𝙧𝙥𝙝𝙚𝙪𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙀𝙪𝙧𝙮𝙙𝙞𝙘𝙚- 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙗𝙞𝙙𝙙𝙚𝙣 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚

“Toji”

He continued walking, even as his eyes held a warning look. Gritting his teeth, he increased his pace.

“Toji-”

He shuddered. Say it again, he wanted to command, instead he turned the corner, hands curling into tight fists.  

He had been confused at first, almost appalled, at you- at your audacity to try and act like he wasn’t who he was- a piece of scum, the lowest of the lowly in the clan. But it seemed like this is how you had decided to spend the rest of your time whenever you weren’t being flagged by suitors or being paraded around your mother as the ideal of a chaste loyal wife. 

He had indulged you the first time you had struck up a conversation. Perhaps that was his initial mistake. His second being committed just now as he turned to you, the glee on your face making bile rise up to his throat. He had seen women like you before- well born “ladies” of the court in dire need of a good fuck, before they were packaged off like objects to a husband who’d only ever look at them as a vessel for carrying his children. Toji huffed in annoyance, eyes doing a quick scan of his surroundings before he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into one of the storage rooms right around the corner. 

“Look-”

Toji cut himself off as he saw the baffled look on your face, your eyes starting to fill up with fear and panic. Somehow, he found himself speechless, the bitter words of telling you to go look for pleasure in a whorehouse now dissolving on the tip of his tongue.

He knew who you were being considered as a match for- having overheard the conversation during a clan meeting- it was supposed to be the sons of one of the higher ups and he could already picture the half wilted life you’d be living. And right then, something clicked in Toji’s mind- all those years of hatred and resentment flashing before his eyes as you hesitantly stepped back, tears welling up in your eyes, and right there, Toji knew what he wanted to do- what he had to. 

He took a deep breath and your heart hammered even harder in your chest. He had been different from the rest of them- you had known it from the first time. However, now you doubted your own wits, trying to recall the ways of combat you had seen the soldiers back home perform- even though you didn’t quite see how you’d succeed against the tall burly mass of flesh that towered above you. You jumped back as he strode right towards you- eyes clenched shut, hands raised in front of your face ready for the impact and pain. 

You were met with nothingness, barely feeling the light brush of his arm as he moved past you. 

Toji sighed at your almost childish antics, even though he agreed your actions would have been justifiable if it was any other man having pulled you into such a secluded place. He waited for you to calm down, lazily looking for the latch of the huge glass window situated on the other side of the room. He easily lifted it open, biceps flexing as he did so- placing his hands on the ledge before pulling himself to the other side.

He turned back towards your gawking figure, rolling his eyes, ready to put forward the offer that would decide if you were worth his time and effort or not. He extended his hand, trying to ignore the heat crawling up to the tip of his ears at the giddy relief-filled grin that spread across your face as he asked, 

“You ever visited the countryside princess?” 

--

You must be an angel in disguise, he finds himself thinking. It terrified him- the time he had spent staring at the column of your neck, watching your chest fall and rise with every breath- and the time he could have spent simply admiring every crook and nook of your body. 

You looked serene in the golden hour of the afternoon, lying on the grass with your eyes shut, sunlight cascading down your figure making it seem as if you carried your own halo. Toji was afraid you’d sprout wings any second now, disappearing away to someplace heavenly- someplace better than the hell you were about to be condemned to- someplace that didn’t have monsters like him. But at last, you were only a human- soon to be one of the Zenins if nothing else. 

The time you had sneaked out to the lake in the countryside with him had not been the last of your rendezvous. You had been quite different from what Toji had expected. You hadn’t made any advances towards him but you weren’t the pure little thing everyone believed you to be either.

You were smart to say the least- a trait that families often suppressed in women of your status, trying to force them into nothing but submissive concubines for their future husband. You were oddly aware of it- had mentioned your doomed fate quite a few times now, and he was struck by how you always laughed, as if your own self being stripped away was a joke. You seemed to do that quite a bit, and he understood it in some twisted way of his own plight. 

Even as his mind kept reminding him that you had still grown up being pampered, being spoiled, having others do your work for you- others like him. But conversation had flowed so naturally with you, he found himself showing you more and more of his places of solitude he had found all over the village through his years of misery.  

You were also naive in many ways, but still blunt in twice as many. Toji had rolled his eyes as he had asked you what you did with your free time back home- the answer was expected- it always had to be something related to the arts and education, trying to pump the ladies full of culture so that they have something to talk about at the dozen balls and galas they’d be attending every month. However, he had almost choked on the pear he chewed as you had started listing names of erotica after erotica- the titles being lewd enough to let him know just how filthy the content inside would be. 

You had burst into laughter at the look on his face, crumbs of fruit left on the side of his mouth making him look even more bizarre. You had reached up your fingers almost instinctively, eyes widening as you realised you had brushed them over the scar he never seemed to talk about. His hand was wrapped around your wrist in less than a second, halting it in place. 

He had stared right back at you, breaths heavy, eyes calculating as he loosened the grip around your skin, but not before he lifted your fingers to press against the mark once more. You swore you could have heard the drumming of your heart, and perhaps he did too.

As you brushed away the remaining bit of the sweet fruit, you couldn’t help but notice the flush that had formed on his cheeks, even as he scowled. 

𝙀𝙧𝙤𝙨- 𝙥𝙝𝙮𝙨𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙡 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙧𝙚.

“You’d better be quiet or everyone’s going to know what a naughty little slut you are.”

You’re bent over the table in the storage room that has somehow become your portal of escape from the person you have to pretend to be. It’s not the first time Toji has whispered his filthy administrations into your ear, but he’s never done it quite so close to where anyone could walk in and catch you red handed. 

Perhaps it was the fact that his face had turned a sick shade of green at the sight of your suitor tucking your hair behind your ear, your lips twitching upwards at something he said- the same way they had twitched up the night before when he had risen from in between your legs, the taste of yourself flooding your mouth as he had pressed his lips to yours. 

This is exactly what you were here for, and despite it, Toji knew who’s name you screamed at the end of every day. So then why did another hand on you ignite a bestial flame inside his chest? Why did he feel the need to pull you away in the dead of the night amongst the crowd of tipsy people, ridding you of the fabric of your dress in one swift movement as he had pressed you against the nearest surface. 

You didn't panic for even a moment, you knew it was his hand just from the touch of it, his hot breath against the shell of your ear, and his throbbing member pressed against the curve of your behind as a thumb rubbed circles into your hip bone. 

You throw your head back against his muscular chest, craning your neck upwards till you meet his eyes- they soften for the briefest of moments, but the way his tip brushes against your underwear-clad core seems to fill them with raw electricity once more. And you think he’s going to fuck you right there- make you cry out his name for letting another man so close to you. Instead, you gasp as his rough hands grab the flesh of your thighs, kneading the muscle as he spins you around, a smirk being flashed your way as he gets on his knees. 

He looks ethereal in that moment. And your breath hitches in your throat as you realise you’ve made a fallen angel bow before you- have tricked him into thinking you can cleanse him of his deeds when the only sinner in this room was you. The way his lips press against the inside of your thighs, nose rubbing against your freshly flowing juices- it’s tantalising, even worse when he takes both your hands in his as they try to find solace in his locks, pinning them to your sides onto the table instead. 

He rests his chin right below the apex of your mound, eyes wandering to your face as he sighs, the lazy but smug curve of his lips accentuating the scar you had grown to cherish as much as your own heartbeat.

Your chest is heaving, the sound of your heavy breathing hanging in the silence of the room as you look down at him. If this was to be his ruination- his fall from grace- Toji would die a happy man. The scent of you is lingering right below his nose, his mouth watering alone at the thought, but he cannot seem to pull away his eyes from your beguiling face, bathed in the moonlight. The words seem to escape him before he can think twice of them.

“Do you know how beautiful you are? It’s truly distracting.”

You’ve barely let his words settle in before he presses his thumb right against your wet heat, rubbing small circles onto your sensitive bud. You don’t have a chance to respond as he proceeds to dive into your drenched cunt- his tongue giving kitten-licks to your clit, lapping up any wetness that dares to drip down. You cry out loud as two of his fingers join his mouth’s onslaught, slapping a hand against your own mouth remembering where you were. 

The sounds filling the room as he suctions your clit in between his lips are filthy- arms wrapping around and under your thighs, pulling your arousal even closer to his starving mouth, the new angle of your leg being thrown over his shoulder letting his fingers rub against the spongy spot inside your walls that makes the coil in your stomach snap. You’re grinding against his face and he’s letting you, nose pressing onto your clit as he licks up the remnants of your juices, fingers continuing to fuck you through your climax as they quiver and shake around his head. 

You’re still coming down from your high, body hanging limp at an awkward angle against the hard wooden surface. His strong burly arms are easily lifting you up, carrying you towards the other side of the room- right towards the glass window. Your eyes widen as you realise the malicious idea that has popped up into your lover’s head, but you’re barely able to put in two words of protest before your feet are hitting the ground, the cold surface making you gasp as your tits are pushed against it. You’re crying out loud as he rubs his thick length against your soppy folds. 

“Toji- someone could see us- we shouldn’t- ah!”

You’re cut off as he lines himself up at your entrance, a pleasurable burn down in your core as his girth stretches your walls. It always hurts. No matter how many times he’s made you cum on his fingers and tongue or prepped you up with an ointment- his size is something no one would ever get accustomed to. He knows it too, but tonight he seems to care less about taking it slow and letting you adjust. You honestly cannot care less too, not when you're gushing around him as such when he’s barely even halfway inside. 

“Too big Toji- too much.” You’re mewling, hands trying to grip onto something.

“You can take it- fuck just let me-”

He’s hastily moving his fingers across your stomach to rub your pulsing bud, groaning lewdly at the way your cunt flutters around him, letting him move deeper inside of you.

The growl that leaves him as his tip hits your cervix is grossly animalistic, making you moan loudly. His other hand is coming up to grip your jaw, cheek pressed against the glass as he lifts up one of your legs, the angle letting him thrust in and out of your poor drenched hole even deeper. His thrusts turn sloppy, eyes clenched shut above you as the sounds of his balls slapping against your flesh with each thrust fill the room.

You’re both groaning in unison, his strokes getting faster as he feels your walls clamping down on him. You’re choking on a breath as his hand moves to wrap around your throat, the sensation making you moan even louder.

“Call me selfish-”  

A sharp smack is delivered against the flesh of your ass causing you to arch your back, the action making your tits press up against the window even more,

 “... but I don’t ever want anyone else to touch you.”

His lips have been suctioned to your neck, your delightful noises being muffled as he’s turning your head to the side till his tongue slips into your mouth. He tightens his grip around your neck and you’re seeing stars, along with the pace of his fingers on your clit and his rapid thrusts making the well in the bottom of your stomach come apart, tears of pleasure slipping your eyes, the feeling of his seed painting your walls making you clench against him amidst your own orgasm.

You barely feel the arms cradling your body, carrying you to set you down on the table. You furrow your brows as Toji strips himself of his shirt, and your eyes widen at the thought of him ravishing you once more so soon. Instead, you shudder as he swipes it against your sex, cleaning up his mess. 

The way you beam at him, even in your exhausted state, is honestly worth the ruined shirt- he finds himself thinking as he moves to pick up your dress from the ground. He clicks his tongue as he realises just how much of shreds he had ripped it into in his feral daze. He’s lifting his head to meet your eyes, wondering how he’ll tell you that you have to find a way to get back to your chambers in this state- 

“Oh-”

Your saccharine voice is pulling Toji out of his thoughts, surprise forming across his face as you burst into laughter at the sight of what he’s sure has cost twice as much as all the clothes he’d ever owned combined. 

“How well do you think I’d fare going out in one of the potato sacks?” 

How could he have not smiled right back at you. 

𝘿𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙨- 𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙜𝙪𝙞𝙡𝙚

Toji had never wanted to rip his own heart out so badly before, inject his blood with ambrosia so that he could be worthy enough for the goddess that was ready to abandon her sanctity- her piece of heaven- for him. He had always known how it would end- in an empty heath of a fire gone out long ago, the only thing keeping it burning now regret and sorrow.

 Love could not have sustained you when there was barely enough space to breathe, when there was barely enough food for your kids to live off of. Once the love faded, all that’d remain would be your wish to go back to the past, getting drunk on forgetfulness so that you can survive within the stone cold walls of a house- not a home.

Once again, Toji knew what he had to do- knew he willingly stepped into this hoping to ruin what was supposed to be the prize of his own blood- in order to humiliate them and fulfill his revenge.

He also knew he was the ruined one now as thoughts of you plagued his mind day and night- how his tactful game of cat and mouse had turned into sweet kisses and hushed giggles, and how all he wanted was to find a pit stop in time where his blood did not matter, where the sins of his past did not matter. But despite it all, he knew he couldn’t have dragged you into his own hell, even if you begged him to take you.

He sighs. 

You had recited the exact conversation you had with your mother- laid yourself bare before him as you poured out your heart- letting him know that it’d be worth tasting the 7 seeds of evil even if it meant living in hell for half your life. 

He had thrown his head back and laughed. 

“You really thought our little getaways meant anything more than a fling to me? More than just a decent fuck?”

You stood still, mouth agape at the words that had slipped past his lips, a hand fisting the fabric of his shirt right above his heart, desperately searching for the pulse of the man you’d grown to adore over the past few weeks. 

He had looked down at you, the scar you had so tenderly ran your fingers over twitching upwards- in amusement- in laughter, face contorting into one of resentment- of revulsion before he had suddenly stilled. 

“Did you forget your place princess? Pretty little head got too lost in a fool’s paradise- did you forget you are one of them- always have been one of them.”

He had spat the last words at you and you wanted to shake your head, wanted to tell him he was utterly wrong, but all you could do was clutch on even tighter to him.

He had put his hand over yours and you had almost begged for him to tell you that this was a sick joke- almost pleaded for him to intertwine his calloused warm hands with yours as he always did- as he had when he made you scream his name, instead you had found yourself gasping at the icy touch as he flicked away your wrist, brows furrowing in repulsion at the contact- at you.

The tears that had slipped through your eyes had only worked to make him throw his head back like a giddy child once more. He had looked up at the sky as if he was mocking the gods in Olympus - look at how I’ve so beautifully wrecked what you created,

while you had stood there looking up at him as if he was your religion, mouthing,

this is not a joke, love me, love me.

𝙊ï𝙯ú𝙨- 𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙮, 𝙖𝙣𝙭𝙞𝙚𝙩𝙮 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙜𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙛

You felt raw. But you did not fight the black hole opening up in your chest. You let it settle into your bones, nurtured the hollowness- ignited it until you felt it turn into flames instead.

You couldn’t have let the ice creep into your heart- it would mean giving up the tears, giving up the feeling of wanting to be swallowed whole by the ground beneath, and that would mean you no longer felt- no longer harboured the only thing that made you feel alive in the cage of bones and flesh your troubled mind resided in. 

There was a heavy pain in between the arch of your shoulder blades- like your wings had been clipped and your halo ripped away.

You ignored the scowl that rose to her face, the way she flinched as you leaned over to rest your head in her lap. You couldn’t tell if the wetness on your cheeks was yours or hers- mourning the daughter she was going to lose. You felt your mother’s burning gaze through the back of your head all throughout the journey back home- could already feel the wrath of your father and the nasty bruises that were to come as her hand came down to rest on your head. 

You instead found yourself being locked away immediately- not a single word from anyone. The only time your door opened was for a maid to serve you your half portioned meals. Not like you had an appetite or a will to do anything else. 

Days passed by, perhaps weeks or months, and you counted the scattered marks on the wall beside your bed like you had done once with the freckles across his back, and you waited-  for what? You weren’t quite sure yourself. You waited and waited until the day your door opened, but it wasn’t the regular pitter patter of steps of the maid who served the food.

Instead, your eyes met the raging ones of the head of your clan, and for the first time in days, an icy shiver creeped up your spine.

----

The torment you’re put through is much worse than expected. You were well aware you were to be disgraced, to be stripped of your title, but somehow the gaze of your own friends and family avoiding your beaten bloody form and ignoring your whimpers and cries of agony was what had stung the most. 

The world seemed to be upside down, fading in and out of hues of colour and greys and blinding lights. You could barely feel the blood dripping down the back of your head and into your shirt as your gaze managed to remain focused on the window outside of the rattling carriage you lay in, panic rising in your chest as you recognised the familiar scenery. 

You fought your hardest to stay awake, but you lost to the increasingly heavy pressure against your head, hoping your blood would run dry before you had to face the hell you were being thrown into. As your head lolled to the side, you wondered if satiating the hunger within you was worth the price you were paying- if this was what happened to every soul that had brought the god of the dead to his knees, wondered if you were the first to do so- wondered if you’d be the last. 

𝙃𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙨- 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙙, 𝙜𝙤𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙧𝙚𝙩

Toji had left the clan- made a living of his own by doing what he did best, by doing what he was made to- destroying and causing wreckage till there was no piece of his soul left to be salvaged. 

He had avoided news about you like the plague, and had still ended up finding out that you were locked away back at your home from the gossiping servants. He had chuckled bitterly, what had he been expecting? He was right after all, you'd never have to face any consequences in life, and soon this whole scandal would be swept under the rug and you would be well on your way to marrying another wealthy brat, having filthy little kids with him who’d have the same luxuries in life and-

Toji found his heart dropping, the axe along with the freshly chopped wood he carried thumping down against the forest floor as he reached the entrance of the wooden cabin he had taken residence in. He saw the pool of blood first- the familiar mop of hair later.

No-

He must be hallucinating- 

But he still found himself moving out of his own accord, gathering the crumpled figure into his arms, feeling a thick fluid drip down his skin- stain through his shirt as he tried to pick you up. A chill ran down his spine as he realised what those savages had done for your body to resist even in an unconscious state- 

And that’s when his eyes slid to the nails in the ground, the sharp metal going right through the flesh of your fingertips, a note pinned to your abdomen in between your shredded dirtied clothes-

“We don’t want the gross wreckage of your perverse ruination. Keep the whore since you wanted her so much.” 

A sea of rage rose in the back of Toji’s mind but it stilled, the vicerating waves crashing against the shore that was the barely noticeable action of your chest heaving. He held back what was a choked sob, mind barely sane as he took out the nails as gently as possible- a man so familiar with death yet utterly horrified by it as he counted your laboured breaths, thanked every deity out in the universe for every huff of air that he could feel against his chest as he carried you inside. 

—

How do you kill a god? 

You had asked him once. He had raised his brow, ruffling your hair before pushing you down onto the bed once more, intent on at least letting you know how you got to heaven. 

How do you kill a god?

It now echoed in his mind as he watched your broken body lay on his bed, having done everything he could have to fix you up even though he feared there would be wounds more than just the physical ones when you gained consciousness- if you gained consciousness.

How do you kill a god? 

Pit him against another god. Let him stare at his own reflection and see all his glorious flaws until he’s falling to his knees, begging for the taste of ichor to be washed out from his mouth, begging to be stripped of his damned divinity- because the curse of immortality is a heavier burden to carry than the curse of mundane suffering- because it’s easier to drown in a sea full of blood than live with it staining your hands.

𝘼𝙥𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙙𝙞𝙩𝙚- 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚, 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙥𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣.

“How do you kill a god?” You had asked him once.

Afterwards, you had lain awake late into the night as he had given you a taste of his own holiness, bare in his arms as he had muttered the words into your hair, barely a whisper as they escaped past his bleeding lips, 

How do you become a god?

The burning light attacked your eyes and you flinched loud enough for your own ears to ring, and then flinched even harder as the hot searing pain spread through your body, especially across the tips of your bandage covered fingers. You tried to use your voice but your throat was like a desert and your own harsh whisper scraped against your sensitive ears.

All you could do was stare up at the unfamiliar ceiling, lying numb, waiting for your saviour- or perhaps your torturer to come.

All had gone still once the door opened, your gaze falling onto the familiar hands that carried a bowl of water and about a dozen different small bottles in a basket. You stared through him, through his wide blown eyes and through the sigh of relief that left his mouth as he rushed towards you. 

How do you become a god?

There was much more you had wanted to tell your mother. You had told her you were sick of pretending, sick of being the goddess of spring when everything you touched died in your hands- how every beam of light you emitted was a stolen one from another soul. Perhaps, you had always craved pomegranates and death - had always willingly walked into the darkness with a smile and open arms.

How do you become a god?

You let him plead and writhe to have a taste of your lips - make him believe it is his only salvation. And right when his lips meet yours, you dig your teeth in deep and not let go, even as his fingers grip the column of your throat and his growls rumble inside your mouth. You let the trail of crimson coat your tongue and feel his tears burn your flesh- you make him taste your blood and take his throne. 

—

He says your name like it’s a prayer and you want to rip out his heart.

Instead, you turn your head towards the wall opposite to where he stands, clenching your eyes shut, hoping the next time you wake up it won’t be here. 

Still, you can hear his voice. Every single day of every waking moment- even as you sleep- even as you wake up in cold sweat haunted by the bittersweet melody of his laughter the day he crushed your heart in two, or the time your own blood nailed you down into the earth. 

But most of all, you hate it when you can hear the gruffness of his voice, still heavy from sleep as you let him cradle your head, shushing you- letting you know it was just a nightmare- but it was a nightmare you had lived through- a nightmare he had put you through. 

Not that he didn’t acknowledge it equally as much. It was odd- almost laughable the way he was so desperate to bring even just a flicker of the light back inside your eyes, breaking free from his stoic and tight lipped demeanour to whisper grossly sweet nothings into your hair.

He had explained his regrets the first few days that you had refused to even look at him, simply staring at the wall as he stripped you of your clothes to redo your bandages, not even the barest of reaction visible across your face. He had caused this. 

The first words you had muttered to him weren’t of hatred or anger or sadness- they were said into the heavy air, late into the hours before dusk at a point in time where your bones still couldn't support the burden of your body, 

“I need to pee.” 

You had said it through gritted teeth, had scowled throughout the process of him picking you up and carrying you into the bathroom, giving you privacy to do your business. 

The second time you had spoken to him was right after and it had somehow dented itself much deeper than he had expected it to, even as it was all he had been preparing himself for in the past few days, 

“I hate you.”

You had said it with no anger, no poison in your words- had simply stated it like it was a mere fact. 

“I know.”

—

It was weeks later and you seemed to have fallen into a strange routine.

He’d go out to do his filthy work, come back bathed in blood and dirt, even as he washed himself off outside thinking he was sly with it. You’d pretend not to notice as you’d cook for yourself, sometimes leaving bits behind as leftovers even if you had purposely spilled the extra bit of rice- had regretted it as soon as you had realised you had done it because he hadn’t had dinner in three days.

Perhaps it was the irony of the situation, and maybe even the cold winter air creeping into your bones that let him move from simply holding you when you woke from your nightmares- to him warming your bed at night even when you dreamed of nothing but the scar beside his lip. 

Still, you let him know you despised him every night that he pulled your body against his chest and every morning that he rubbed his warm hands up and down your arms. Even as you felt yourself leaning into his touch, felt your heart softening at how he’d mutter apologies into your hair while he thought you were asleep, how he’d pay attention to the foods you took more of and made sure to get twice the amount next time, how he’d shred his own shirts to provide you with cloth for when you got your monthly cycles. Yet, you couldn’t find any other words to say to him. 

𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙥𝙝𝙤𝙣𝙚- 𝙌𝙪𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙐𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 𝙂𝙤𝙙𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙨𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙛𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙨, 𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙝, 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣

You had woken up alone as you did on most mornings, grateful that you wouldn’t have to face the shame that came with having your limbs tangled with him. The day was like any other yet different, perhaps it was the monotonous dread of living a life such as this- of having to live at all after being stripped of everything you had called yours.

You had somehow ended up taking steps outside of the wooden door, outside of the small garden the burly man used to grow his own vegetables, and even farther outside the vines and shrubs that kept the cabin hidden from any unwanted visitors.

You had walked and walked till your feet carried you to the edge of the world, a never ending fall down below from where you stared at, the sound of water flowing signalling the presence of a river running deep under the steep cliff.

You had stopped walking, the silence of the forest being the only noise to have outdone the heavy emptiness in your heart in months. And you simply continued to stand there, bare feet digging into the dirt and grass and stone, barely realising when the light faded away and darkness took over. Hadn’t it always been like this? 

It had taken no more than two rounds of the house and the trail of footsteps in the garden out back for Toji to realise you had left. His heart had dropped into his chest as he had followed the dents of your feet in the ground, careful not to step on them as his mind bitterly reminded him that it may be the last of what’s left of you by now.

He knew where the trail you had walked along led- had himself sat on the edge of it once, legs dangling off as he his mind had replayed the memory of your glossy eyes and crestfallen face when he had hit you with those fatal words months ago. Toji’s breath hitches in his throat, hands shaking as he pulls away the last branch blocking the view of the edge of the cliff. 

His feet are moving faster than his mind can think as he all but falls onto his knees, clutching your abdomen as if you’d disappear forever if he let you go now. You turn around in his arms, a look of confusion on your face, your eyes still as hollow as a void but all he cares about right now is the steady thumping he can feel with his chest pressed to yours. He’s clenching his eyes shut, taking a deep breath before he’s sliding his hand into yours. You don’t protest- letting him lead you back into the warm safety of his house and he’s too relieved to consider whether your lack of resistance is a good thing or not. 

You’re sitting on the edge of the bed and you can hear him ruffling through something in the bathroom, door ajar, eyes glancing towards you every two seconds as if he’s expecting you to bolt out the door any second now. For once, you don’t want to stare at the wall as he walks towards you, getting down on his knees- making a blow of nostalgia hit you right in the gut. But your eyes remain fixed at the top of his head, at the dark locks that had grown out much more since the last time you had let yourself gaze at him. 

You only realise what he’s been doing as you notice the bowl of water kept on the floor, hands gently lifting up your dirty feet, cleaning them of the mud and the blood from small scrapes. He’s lifting up your legs onto the bed once he’s done, adjusting your pillow as a gesture for you to lay down. He’s blowing out the lamps and soon enough you feel the mattress dip, his arms engulfing you tighter than ever before. You can feel the slight tremble in them and you feel guilty for the small pinch in your chest. You wait for his breathing to steady, head to fall limp into the crook of your neck before you roll over towards him in the dark, eyes set on the small crinkle between his forehead and brow. 

The warm hand that cups Toji’s cheek has him convinced that he may have lost his mind. Opening his eyes, he knows for sure that you have. Especially as you slide your other hand into his, pulling it till it’s placed onto the crest between your collarbone and chest, adjusting it a little more towards the left. Toji’s staring intently at you, wondering if this is your way of telling him that you’re still alive- that even though you’ve been cursed and damned to living in this hell, your heart still beats- it still fights. 

Toji bares his own emotions through a gesture- pulling the small hand that holds his to the apex between his upper ribs- pressing it till your fingers feel like they might just pass through his flesh. He hopes you know that if he could, he’d snap each one of his ribs open so that you can reach inside and press the palm of your hand against his beating heart, rip it right out of his body and spit inside the hollow space of his ribs with contempt- even then he’d survive on your hatred alone if it means surviving with you for the rest of his life. 

“I don’t hate you.”

The words are whispered in the dead of the night with no emotion, no trace of forgiveness or affection- simply stated as if they are common knowledge.

The soft lips coming down on his own have his mind spinning. He realises what it is you wish for- to be able to live once again as a human, to feel once again as a mortal- he can almost almost hear you saying the words into his mouth as your fist bunches up the fabric of his shirt. 

“I’m tired of being a god.” 

He can feel his own sentiment being passed right through as his hands slide under the cloth of his shirt that you wore, exploring the expanse of your reverenced skin, mouthing his response against your cupid’s bow.

“I’ll worship you even after you fall from grace.” 

And he does, pulling himself up on arms above you, dipping his fingers into your soaking sex, making quick work of ridding you and himself of your clothes. He’s tucking your legs against your chest, feet dangling over his broad shoulders as he comes forward to meet your lips. He’s pulling away and you’re mewling at the loss of contact- the loss of his taste. 

“Do you want this? Do you want-” He takes a deep breath, forehead coming forward to press against yours till your noses brush against each other, “...me?”

Your response comes in the form of sliding your hands to the back of his head, pulling him forward till his lips crash against yours once more- bucking your hips up till the tip of his massive girth is brushing against your heat. He doesn’t miss the moan that escapes you, eagerly kissing you back, moving to litter a plethora of kisses against your jaw- your neck- your collarbone. When he comes back up to your face, he’s well aware of the effect he’s had on you- the want in your eyes as you lift your hips against his once more, a small plea leaving your mouth. 

The need that comes over him is animalistic as he moves a hand down to position himself before sliding into your soppy hole, he swears he can see stars with how hungrily you swallow him in. You’re gripping his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as he strokes your insides so languidly. Your faces are close enough for you to feel his breath on your mouth, to feel the fall of the hot droplets on your cheeks, your own tears of grief- of freedom- of a love gone to waste so long ago combining as he continues to thrust in and out of you deeply. 

He’s dipping his head and the tears are being kissed away as his hand moves down to play with your over sensitive bud. You can't stop peppering kisses against his lips, moaning his name in his ear as he hits a particular spot inside you. He can feel you getting closer with how your breaths get deeper, fingers moving faster, strokes getting sloppier. 

You feel the tight coil in your stomach start to unravel, and all it takes is for him to lower his head and suction his lips around one of your nipples for you to come apart underneath him. He’s reaching his own arousal soon after, pulling out to spray his seed onto your stomach. He all but collapses on top of you, rolling over to his side once he catches his breath, another hitching in his throat as he finds you crawling onto his lap, legs straddling his waist as you bury your face into his naked chest. 

This is what being a god feels like. The taste of wine coating your tongue and the way his lips meld with yours- swallow you whole and then spit you out. You reach for him again in the dark, his chest panting against yours as the moonlight cascading from the window hits his face. You rest your chin against the centre of his chest, looking up at him with droopy eyes, his own stare right back at you- filled with tenderness and affection. 

“No one will ever hurt you again, I promise.” 

His voice is gruff and heavy, but carries a sincerity warm enough to send tingles down your back. You can’t quite place the look on his face, it's determined- pointed. You can feel the unravelling of the violence beneath his skin as his hand comes to cradle your jaw, and you wonder just what kind of monsters the god of the underworld plans to unleash.

His hand moves to caress the back of your head, adoration-filled eyes raking over your still panting figure. He presses his lips to your temple and says your name like a prayer. It all floods in- the pain- the love- the sorrow- the joy- you’re sobbing and he’s holding you like he has time and again. Only this time, he finds himself awestruck by the spark of ember that comes alive in your eyes, even if just for a second, he knows you’re going to be fine. 

-

The god of the dead had bowed before you, offered you his crown, his throne- would have ripped off the flesh from his own back and handed it to you without any hesitation if only you asked. 

You were the goddess of spring and everyone had loved your life and light, but who except him had acknowledged the death and destruction that came along- had reached out their hands into the rotten parts of your flesh and kissed every bruise and scar?

This was Toji Fushiguro’s life now, coming back home to his precious darling each day- the only burst of spring in his everlasting winter, the only ray of light in his world swallowed by darkness.

Tonight, as you lay on him bare-bodied and covered in sweat from your previous feat, he finds you asking him about the season, about how far the harvest festival was. He’s confused at your sudden curiosity but answers you nonetheless, telling you it’s in a fortnight. He finds himself asking why. 

“Every single member of our blood attends the festival- they had waited for it while they kept me away.” 

It’s the first time you’re talking about the incident and he can feel you quiver in his arms. It makes his blood boil, and he finds himself protectively pulling you even closer into him. 

“...they had wanted each and every single one of them to get a chance to cut through my skin.” 

That’s all you say before falling asleep, the tears on Toji’s chest making a storm of anger rage inside his mind. 

--

It’s a fortnight later and Toji watches the red and orange hues of the flames making your face glow brighter than the sun. 

You’re standing there hand-in-hand with him, looking over the half wrecked ruins of the village, the screams of the people you had grown up with- who had taken no less than a second to turn their backs on you- who had left you to die- now echoing in your ears. Right on the edge of the hilltop you stand on, you see a small figure running towards the slope, clothes burnt, high pitched sobs filling the air as it succumbs to the heat that had spread through it’s bones.  

She must’ve been eight or nine years old judging from her size and half burnt frills of the frock she wore. You know she’s at peace, much like the many others who would’ve faced nothing but agonising hardships being raised in the hands of your cruel persecutors- all of whom lay as nothing but bones and ash and dust now. 

Toji’s worried that he’ll find the same emptiness he’s spent months breaking through as he glances over at your face. Instead, there’s a fire being reflected in your eyes, a sadistically deliciously smile stretched across your supple cheeks. He finds his own lips curving as he grips your jaw to turn your head and press his lips to yours, the screams and shouts of your monsters merely anything but white noise as your fingers come to tangle in his hair. 

After all, Hades may have been the god of the dead, but it was Persephone’s wrath which brought upon the destruction.

© suna-reversed — all rights reserved. please refrain from modifying, translating, reposting of any kind. plagiarism will NOT be tolerated.

credit- prompt list

taglist-@captainmads2092 @mahitochan @nakachuchu @bakugohoex @jotazinha @osmosly @avasparks @p-each-y-day @lilshortcakess @saturnmoon @deary-darling @menaintshit23 @tobidabio @sukuna5slut @instantnuma @kuroshitsujjiii @half-baked-biscuit @duskamethyst @sukumen @radishfern

[astroyongie]

Red Velvet - June Reading

Note: Please remember to take my words with a grain of salt. Enhypen will be out in a few hours

Irene

Irene is on a particular energy. She is on a relationship, and everything was going very well, however lately she has been feeling very low. That because there’s certain pattern that she sees on her relationship that remembers her of the bad side of her family situation. She has been really feeling sad and distant about the whole thing, she’s scared things repeat themselves. She had a complicated childhood, a lot of things came back to her from that period and it’s affecting her relationship and her private life in general. She’s also scared to have her own family.

I didn’t got anything concerning her professional and career status.

Physical Health: She is taking care of her body and of her appearance a lot  Mental Health: She is a little agitated due to her current situation.

Seulgi

Just like Irene, her relationship situation is complicated. She is currently seeing a man (non idol) that is divorced. They have been having a relationship, where she became quite dependent on him, she has strong desires to make it official, however this person has no interest to take this to the next level. They want to keep their relationship with benefits and nothings more

She has been working very hard, putting on practice her own creations, I see new things coming for her but eulogy needs to be careful, because she pushes herself too much and it might end up burning her out. Even so, she’s bound to be successful.

Physical Health: She has having troubles with her tummy, her digestive system, her pancreas. Mental Health: She’s doing okay

Wendy

It’s really fucked up what’s happening with the members when it comes to their relationship, and it’s insane. Without giving too much info, Wendy was talking with someone and creating feeling with them. She was very happy, however she made the mistake to trust them too much with private info and this person had the audacity to share it with their friends. She feels very betrayed and her feelings are all over the place. This happened very very recently, like a few days ago/this weekend

When it comes to her career, she had some nice things coming up, however the company put everything on stop so they can lead with this issue internally.

Physical Health: Doing well Mental Health: She has poor self esteem so she really needs to work on that. There’s a lot of guilt, she’s unstable and doubting of herself a lot

Joy

Again they have a huge curse and the way I felt pure rage with Joy’s reading.. Crush and her are currently in a relationship, they are happy and they are well. However there’s this damn person who keeps harassing her. They had several confrontations already because he is trying to force themselves on her and she keeps rejecting them. However this person has influence and she doesn’t feel secure around them.

Joy has been working, she is determinate since I see a type of travel coming for her, an opportunity that will help her improve and it’s honestly just very nice for her career. I see a brand wanting to work with her as well, things are under discussion.

Physical Health: troubles with her liver, sacrum, lumbar area and her kidneys.  Mental Health: Okay, but she overthinks a lot which isn’t good

Yeri

Yeri isn’t in a relationship at the moment, because she has been having her own fun, meeting people and just be free as she wishes to be. However there’s this one person she met through her work, that is very present in her life. For the moment she doesn’t know if she wants a relationship since she doesn’t want to make the same mistakes she has done in the past

Just like Irene I didn’t go any info about her career

Physical Health: Physically she’s very healthy  Mental Health: She is suffering some type of mental illness despite the fact that she has been trying to heal and looking for it. She feels very tired, exhausted , she doesn’t speak much with people around her.

[hotwings0203]

now we need a part 4 with izuku and bakugo on what happens next to the poor reader 😩✋🏼

Aight imma do a two for one here so MASSIVE BET

Tw:noncon, gangbang

When your hand reaches the doorknob, you know something is off only half a millisecond before another large hand settles itself on your wrist and another one caressing your side.

You freeze immediately at the voices that croon and snarl to you.

“Open the door quietly and we don’t have to make this any more difficult than it’s already gonna be.”

“God, you smell so good. You still haven’t changed your shampoo even after all these weeks huh? I like it.”

Your hand starts to shake and your body starts to sweat as you wildly try to find a way out of this situation. The voices sound eerily familiar, with one being higher and the other more aggressive and raspy, but you don’t dare turn around to locate the faces.

One of them seems to be catching onto your hesitation, because your wrist is crushed underneath a hard grasp and you cry out softly as they growl.

“Open. This. Fucking. Door. Right now.”

It takes a good 15 more seconds to jimmy the lock open, and once you do all three of you go tumbling in.

You whip back around to see both men standing over you, merely watching you with crossed arms and equally perverse leers.

“D-deku? Bakugo? What’s going on?”

Deku practically bounces on the balls of his feet, itching with inappropriate anticipation for what’s to come.

“We wanted to play with you! Are you ready? You can’t fucking ignore me anymore!” His voice is cheery as always but it breaks when he curses, the strains in his vocal cords sticking out while he forces himself from holding back.

Bakugo steps forward.

“Didnt I tell you I was gonna come again for you, you teasing cunt? Didn’t I say to watch your back? Now look at you, sprawled on the floor like rapetoys should be.”

Both men start slowly uncrossing their arms and advance towards you.

“No-no please, why? I didn’t do anything to you! Deku, please!” You blubber as you scuttle backwards, their strides equally as long.

You continue evading them as they play around with you.

“Oh, you have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear those words. ‘Deku, please.’ Although, I’d very much rather you moan it for me.” He has the audacity to blush, and then Bakugo interjects.

“You deserve this y’know, so don’t start crying now. We haven’t even gotten to the fun part yet.” He spreads his hands and his uncharacteristic grin stretches from ear to ear, his vermillion eyes flashing in the dim light of your dorm.

“Anyone whose stupid enough to not realize how this creep has been sniffin’ your panties for months-hell, maybe even years now should get raped. You’re so fucking stupid, you didn’t realize I was protecting you from him.”

“But now look at you. Alone, afraid, vulnerable…oh, and going to the bedroom. You really are an easy slut, huh?”

Deku’s eyes light up when he realizes you truly are unknowingly backing up into the bedroom, but you realize it too late.

It’s only after Bakugo’s words come out that you try to look for a detour for the lock-induced bathroom, but Deku has a different idea.

Out of pure excitement he laughs and sprints towards you, hands outreached to touch your pretty skin, mouth open with drool softly filling the tile below him and eyes bloodshot with lust.

He looks like a creature from hell, and in the pure terror of watching him come at you like that your plan to detour was thwarted and you mindlessly trip back over your feet onto the bed, scrambling as far away as you can from them to the headboard.

You look to your left and quickly seize your bedside lamp, raising it above your head.

“Domt come any closer you closer perv. God, I shouldve known you were fucked in the head. I kept trying to make excuses for you, I thought you were my friend-“ you break down in sobs as the green haired man continues looking at you like you’re a piece of meat, absentmindedly wiping his hand across his mouth.

“And you,” you point to Bakugo who bares his teeth and smirks madly, “I already knew you were the embodiment of hell, but I thought you had a limit of how low you could stoop. You didn’t protect me from shit, you forced your way inside of me day in and day out.”

“Well now that your useless little monologue is over, Deku, tie her legs to the posts. I swear Y/N, you’re making this way too easy for me. It’s almost boring, I already know what I’m gonna get.” He raises his eyebrows at you while he lets his minion do all the work for him, goosebumps racing up his arm at the sight of you screaming and fighting tooth and nail against your fate.

But at the end of the day, after all your curses and sobs and monologues, you’re no match for either of them, especially Deku, who cooes at you to scream louder while he caresses your face and uses nylon string to secure your wrists to the wooden posts. Your legs are also bound after Bakugo seizes them from kicking, and a gag is placed over your mouth by his hands.

He roughly taps the tape covering your trembling lips and smiles condescendingly down at you.

“You’re doing so well for us, rapemeat. Keep up the good work and try to spread those legs as much as you can.” He chuckles when you scream your lungs out, thrashing as he yanks your knees apart.

“Aw, Kacchan, can’t we take the gag off? I wanted to hear her in my ears,” he pouts and looks glumly at your writhing figure.

“No, how fucked in the head are you? Someones gonna come down if she’s hollering for the whole building to hear. And cut her clothes off, I’m getting impatient.”

It seems like Deku too was at his last fiber of self control as his hands shake equally as much as yours, except for an entirely different reason altogether, the opposite reason of yours in fact.

He fishes in his back pockets for something, and produces a glinting steel knife with a black handle.

You still immediately as his descends his hands to the top of your v-neck shirt, right above your collarbones. His eyes fog up as your satiny smooth skin comes in contact with the blade, the coldness of the steel sending shivers down your spine and making you sob harder.

“Kacchan…did you ever get a taste of her blood? How does she taste?” He lifts his head to look into your tear-streaked eyes, but he addresses his childhood friend.

Bakugo snorts. “Calm down Toga, don’t get too crazy yet. We’ll have some more fun later, right now my dick is about to explode. ‘Need a hole,” he mumbles at the end and finally clambers onto the bed right atop your legs.

You stay absolutely silent as pressure from the knife rips the thin strands of your clothes apart, and Deku takes careful care to ensure you at least have thin red lines running down your stomach if not for actual blood.

“Oh fuckkkk,just look at her. You look good enough to eat…” he looks at you and licks his lips, salivating when you whine and twist at your restraints.

“Yeah yeah, you do whatever the fuck you want. Just choose what you’re gonna stick it in and hurry up.”

The blond looks bored almost as the more eager one whips to the side to face him.

“You mean it Kacchan? I can pick?”

They speak as if you’re not alive, no feelings or humanity involved. All you can do is watch and yell into your makeshift gag as the blond waves him off.

“Go for it. It’s your first time satisfying that sick head of yours, ‘must get boring doing it from behind a screen all the time.”

His slowly turns to face you, a kind leer etched across his features, eyebrows slanted and hand coming up to pull your ripped clothes apart.

You struggle and spit muffled profanities out as he slowly drags the bridge of your bra down, eyes wide open as your nipples pop out and eventually both of your tits bounce out.

He hisses and takes his nails up your stomach to fondle your breast. You can tell Deku’s too excited, too inexperienced from the way he handles them like stress balls. You grunt as his mouth latches onto a pert nipple, suckling and looking up at you as if he were some kind of demonic baby.

Bakugo watches all this with a dark glint in his eyes, absentmindedly palming himself as he watches the show unfold in front of him.

It’s entertaining seeing all of the creep’s hormones spiral out of control from years of pent-up lust. He’s never seen the dork so fired up and hungry, he’s never seen him so brutal with a civilian before, the type of people he used to say he’d protect at all costs.

After he’s done playing with your sore tits, he wasted no time in yanking your sweats off. You don’t even trash around anymore, the only thing you’re capable of in this state of terror and shock is weak moans and little sobs, maybe a writhe or two here and there.

Your panties are also torn off and you howl when the elastic cuts into your skin within the process. Bakugo takes this last stripping as an indication for him to move now. He lifts himself up on his knees and moves around your head while Deku situates himself between your violently twitching legs.

“I’m gonna take the gag out now. If you scream or pull any funny business I’ll plug your pussy and your throat with this knife, got it?” He snatches the weapon from the bed and waves it dangerously close to your face.

You nod frantically and try to turn your head to the side, but he yanks you back into place and decides to have his own fun.

While Izuku hurriedly takes his own shorts off the hothead slowly takes the tape off your mouth, staring down at you with unblinking eyes. The knife which you’re so afraid of is traced around your own squeezed shut eyes, down your cheeks and around your lips.

But the horrified trance on which he keeps you in is broken when Izuku suddenly shoved his entire length inside your dry cavern.

Luckily Bakugo has enough foresight to slam a hand over your howling mouth before the entire building can be woken up, and he glares at the sheepish-looking man down the bed from him.

“Are you a fucking virgin? At least rub her clit or something so she doesn’t go hollering at every thrust you damn nerd!”

The man between your legs winces and rubs the back of his neck, chuckling nervously.

“Oops, sorry, got a little carried away there.”

He doesn’t pull out, he merely thrusts slower, trying to fit his fat dick inside your unwilling cunt.

A string of curses leaves your lips and you grimace as the pain becomes near blinding.

Bakugo looks down at you again, the knife forgotten.

“No teeth either.” Your breaths come out in little frantic pants when his bare cock springs out of his own pants.

He taps the leaking purple tip on your lips and you open hesitantly. There’s no point in resisting anymore, they’ve got you quite literally cornered.

“Wider, slut,” he snarls, and you do-but only because Deku’s paps get more aggressive, causing your mouth to fall open in a long whine.

The blond takes this opportunity to slam his length down your throat, groaning around when he sees your throat swell with his bulge.

You immediately start gagging and trying to pull at your restraints for air, his heavy balls rest right on top of your nose and you feel like you’re going to pass out.

You can barely hear him over Deku’s animalistic grunts and whines. He’s going way too fast, as if he’s possessed by your pussy. It numbs you, taking away some of the pain in a flip side.

But on the other end of your body, you’re desperate for air while a fuzzy ballsack paps against your nose and eyes.

Each sadistic stroke he puts inside of you widens your sore esophagus, bringing bile up sometimes and large amounts of saliva too.

He’s not as loud as Deku, but he’s equally as greedy with your holes.

Your body literally hovers up almost in midair as Bakugo thrusts in and lifts his hips up, taking your upper half along with it and Deku does the same unconsciously, trying to fuck up into your womb.

It’s an exact replica of a perverted spit roast, with both of them catching each other’s rhythm and slamming inside your holes at the same time.

Your clit is suddenly rubbed inexpertly to the point of overstimulation, and the incoming sob forced out of your throat warps into a pained scream.

The vibrations of your scream makes Bakugo cum suddenly with a hoarse groan. He doubled over your body and gnaws at your bouncing tits, licking and teething at them the same way his counterpart did.

The sight of copious amounts of cum being leaked out of your filled mouth propels the green-haired man to whimper and shove himself back in one more time, hitting your cervix and causing both his and your eyes to roll back.

He cums too, but both men keep their semi-hard cocks inside of your aching body.

You don’t know what’s worse, having both of them by your side or both of them inside.

[natsukitakama]

Being in relationship with Gojo Satoru would include

Author note : got nothing to say about it. I’m his personal hoe even though I’m aware about what Gege-sama said. Let’s say I can’t be saved. It’s too late for that LMAO. Anyway let me know if you enjoy this ♡ (also I changed my head canon’s page setting how does it looks ?) 

Warning : slight nsfw / me simping over a man that would definetly not give me time / also I didn’t catch up with the manga (Japan’s scan cause we’re kinda late in France) 

Update : I didn’t say it obviously I do not own that gif credit to the owner(s) 🙏🏻

Masterlist

Request are Open

a lot of work. 

As Gege said themselves they didn’t see Gojo being faithful or interest on a relationship (still hurt btw) 

But why ?

If we look carefully we can see that his relationship with every superior are pretty densed : he is absolutely against his own cast and I won’t be surprised that he is pretty distant with his family and the member of his clan. Which mean basically they’re not so much people who are closed to him 

He didn’t allow them to be close 

Again since he tends to be pretty narcissistic and is not afraid to threat everyone that might be against him cursed or not. 

So let’s say he got couple of ennemies. 

Then I remembered his first interaction (or at least of the first he got) with Yuta. We all remember what happened to that girl he was so deeply in love, remember what Gojo said ? He actually said that in his opinion love might be the worst cursed or something like that. Meaning he is aware about how dangerous love can be. 

So here’s the thing it’s not like he is not faithful (even though he is into one night stand) but he can’t allow himself to fall himself nor will he let someone falls for him. Because they will became an easy target, they will become his worst weakness. 

Especially since he is super busy it would mean that he couldn’t be with you whenever he wants to.  

So that would explain why he is not really into relationship cause he knows it would be dangerous for him. 

Also I don’t believe he was raised with love, I’m pretty sure he wasn’t closed or never seen any act of love so he is pretty cold about it cause he is used to. 

In addition his personnality is ... well he is piece of works. So it’s not that easy to fall in love with him (I mean deeply in love not just being attracted to his physics) and it’s difficult to make him falls in love too. (It would be for another headcanon) 

But now let’s pretend you went through his childish nature and he let you get to know him and boom you’re started a relationship with him 

He is clingy asf you know that 99% of the time he is walking not giving a single shit about people think about him. That man is so confident he knows no one would dare criticize him for being a clingy or boyfriends and if they do it He would claim that they are just jealous of him. 

Even if he is super chill about everything he would never broke any of your boundary. So if you’re comfortable with him hugging you in public or giving you a deep kiss that’s fine he will keep it for later. 

But that won’t stop that little shit for teasing you. Oh no. It’s even worst if you are shy, oh god he would do anything just to see your cheeks getting red. He just loves it. It’s addictive. 

Cause let’s be real, if he actually started a relationship with you was because he was way too addicted. Your relationship probably started with some one night stand that wasn’t just one but sssh. Then you started to hang out together not dating calling that a date because you guys didn’t want to put a name on it. Then both of you started to be territorial and get upset when one of you flirted with another. It last until You and Gojo couldn’t just sleep or think without being close together. 

He is like a sweet drug you know ? Once you got a bite you can’t just stop. Same way for him as soon as you got him, you won’t be able a le to keep away. 

That also explain why he is clingy he just has to touch you, simple touch deep touch intimate touch he doesn’t care all he needs was you close to him. 

When you guys became serious (put a name on it cause you were already a couple but whatever) the man became even more noisy if that’s even possible. 

He praises you a lot not matter what job you have what passion you’re followed anything. You’re just the best S/O of the entire world. 

Also he show off a lot cause everyone thought Nanami would the first to be in a relationship with a S/O  but he failed 

And oh boy does Gojo loves that. 

He can’t help but remind EVERYONE (including his students of those coming from kyoto) that he is dating you

« Aaah can’t wait to be home I bet Y/N would make those delicious cookies of them. It’s so good to go home to find your beloved. Oh yeah you can’t know that you don’t have a S/O so sad »

You little shit 

As I previously said he tends to not be around that much because of his jobs, but that’s okay he would make it up one way or another. 

I know some people believes that he will take his S/O to the greatest restaurant, or into those luxurious places. It’s true sometimes he just find you to have a good quality time but he also wants to spoil you so it’s good way to do it. 

But most of the time I think he might be into those private date when you’re into a little cafe or having a picnic. Again I don’t think he had the chance to enjoy those private moment with his family when you’re just enjoying the people you loved in the simple way. And he just loves seeing you cook for him it stroke his ego and melt his heart. 

I heard somewhere that he might be touch starved and I agree with that postulate. I do believe he wasn’t raised with love and tenderness so that would explain why he could be so touchy-feely with people and so that’s explain why he is clingy. 

He is definetly into carrying and simple person, he is just a giant baby he loves being taken care of he wants to have your attention 24/7, that’s just who he is. When i said simple,it’s more like not superficial cause he won’t tolerate that he hates when people has the audacity to lie in front of his face or believes they can manipulate him. 

A lot of people tends to think he is stupid or easily to use because of his childish behavior and he hates that. He has a huge ego. 

So he won’t like it if you’re trying to get something from him. If you want to say something just say it. 

Even if he is huge tease he would never judge you or make fun of you (not in a mean way) so he expects you to be blunt about your feelings. If you think he is an idiot for always keeping everything for himself tell him. 

If his S/O is a civilian he might not talk about the jujutsu world at first but then when he realized he was bound to them. Like he couldn’t breath without you he would tell you the truth. 

He kiss a lot. I’m not making the rules he just kiss very easily and each of them have a meaning. Cheeks kiss is to ask you something like buying an ice cream when it’s 4AM (use it with his best puppies eyes cause the fucker knows his effects on you). Nose kiss are like morning kiss, he tends to do it a lot after sex too it’s just another way for him to say I love you but in a cute way. Head kiss is to reassure you that everything would be fine, it’s also his way to comfort you when you’re sad it’s always followed by an « everything would be fine » or « I’m here now it’s okay ». Kiss on your lips could be a way to tempt you for sex who goes along with a bite of your lips of a stroke of your hair, but his kiss on your lips could also be his way to remind you how much he loves and how much he miss you. 

But no worry he is not afraid to tell you he loves you, but he just kept those works for special moment. 

He hugs a lot. From behind when you’re cooking for him, cuddle you while watching a movie or put you against his chest so you would climb around his body like a koala 

Nest your face against his neck and he would melt right now. The feeling of your breath against his skin damn he got shivers all the time 

Time to time don’t forget to stroke his ego like cuddling him and tell him how good you feel like you feel safe. He needs time to time (also even if he might tease you a little bit, do that and you’ll get extra kiss and cuddle time)

Also he can’t say no to you. Puppy eyes are useless just took his hand and ask him slowly to do something and he would do it. 

The problem is you can’t say no to him too. Cause 1) he is super convincing when he wants to 2) because he knows you can’t say no to his pretty face especially his eyes 3) and if you’re fighting his attraction over you he would use puppy eyes on you. So either way he got what he wants. 

You guys definetly got some « sweet » dates at 4 AM : like he just woke up because he dreamt about those delicious mocchi he tastes when he first met Itadori and now all he could think about was those mocchi. So he got you at 4AM to buy and share some mocchi together. Even though you hated being woke up like this you couldn’t help but enjoy the fact that he woke you up so you could share a meal together 

It comes from nowhere but you guys have sex a lot. He is horny it’s written on his face I can’t change that. He is intoxicated he can’t help it but need to feel you clinching around his dick, bitting your lips and scratching his back as he thrust into your core. 

He daydreams a lot and 99% it’s not pure at all

He sext you a lot even during a meeting, he just took his phone and text you about how boring the meeting is and how he wish he could just ravage you in front of them so they would shut up for once. 

He is pretty open about everything when it came to sex it’s not like you can break him or anything but he loves it every time you came to him asking for something you might want to try but be afraid he won’t be agree or might hurt him.

It’s so cute that you thought you could hurt him physically 

Somehow he managed you to have sex in his office which you were kinda up to it but he also convinced you to do it on a car as soon as ljichi left for a call. He can’t help it you were just so cute so tempting looking like this by his side and well he is into semi-public sex he just don’t give up a fuck LMAO who’s gonna say yell at him anyway ? He is THE Gojo Satoru. 

Not sure if I said it before but he won’t mind dating a simple human, he is just so bitter about everything his world is a mess so it’s fine that he can’t be normal, just man hanging around the personne he loves without thinking about his position about his clan, the cursed. Just couple of hours during his day where is just your boyfriend, he cherish that. 

It doesn’t mean he won’t date an exorcist, but it might be even more difficult since he can’t help but wondering if you’re actually into him (which is hard considering his antics) or if you’re into his position. But if you managed to show him that you actually didn’t care about the whole clan, position and everything yeah he would be into you. It would be more simple cause he can be with you 24/7 or at least as much as possible, and protect you even though you don’t actually need someone to take care of you. He just has to do it. 

He spoils a lot, remember how easily he would book a restaurant for his students ? Same things it’s even worse cause sometimes during a mission he walked around a new street and it’s like « damn that’s look yummy » and after being sure nothing could harm you (especially if you’re allergic of If you a vegan or veggies) he would book a reservation and then took you on a date. 

He does that a lot, since he can’t manage to have quality time as much as he wanted he just does things like that so you can share a meal together and also because he can tease you during the whole night then teleport both of you into his house for « sport » activity. 

Also he tends to buy some many things, like he could walked in Tokyo and see a grandma selling some candle he would buy it just because it seemed aesthetic for him, and now everytime he saw something that reminds him of you he buys it. So you guys got plenty of things that you can’t throw away since Gojo linked them with a memory of you. 

Speaking of things who belongs to you, he wears your clothes and you wears his, remember how easily he wore Nobara’s skirt he is pretty skinny he can wear anything and won’t bother asking you first. Just get used to it cause he doesn’t plan on giving up. 

I do believe that a relationship with you force him to be more « mature » or at least not always acting like a child. But let’s be real he would still act like a baby you sign for this. 

In the end it’s an healthy relationship even though he tends to be flirty sometimes, he would be careful if he noticed that you’re not comfortable, or he would make sure to reminds you that he is actually in love with you, he won’t go anywhere. No matter if you’re an exorcist or not, you would still be afraid that one day he won’t comeback, so he makes sure to spoil you, love you to erase that fear. He is the strongest and doesn’t plan on leaving you soon. 

[mrsalwayswrite]

Magic and Firelight (Ivar x reader)

Oh God. you know how I said I never write smut....apparently I lied. I blame this entire thing on @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom​ and @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie​ for encouraging this. All. Their. Faults. 

This one-shot was inspired by the moodboard created by the ever-lovely @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom​ for a challenge. In the challenge she had to use Ivar, MagicAU and Licking....so I made sure to incorporate those themes into this written one-shot.  

Also this does not fit anywhere in the Vikings timeline because I want everyone alive and marginally happy, ok? So everyone lives in Kattegat but think season 5a Ivar. 

Warnings: SMUT, unexpected feels, like one swear word. 

Words: 4200

Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius​ @evelynshelby​ @pomegranates-and-blood​ 

reminder: not my moodboard. this entire, glorious thing belongs to @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom​ who was kind enough to let me use it.

  Revelry filled the air, coating everything in the Great Hall like a fresh snowfall. The feast was well underway. The smell of roasted meat and ale rose steadily into the air, along with the laughter and cheers of those still in attendance. A contest of strength just finished, the loser ending up with blood dripping from his nose, tainting his teeth, as he laughed uproariously. 

 A joyous shout shot through the hall. The signal of the next form of entertainment. Fists pounded on the tables in delight, a few exclamations arising amongst the sound. All noise ceased when a slow drumbeat began, like the echo of a steady heart. It sunk into the skin, traveling to the chest until one's heartbeat matched in echo. 

 Ivar shifted in his seat near the base of the thrones. They both sat empty behind him, his mother having retired long ago, and Ragnar at a nearby table with Floki and a few others, laughing with a flushed face and ale horn in hand. Glancing around his table, he could see the wild excitement in his brothers' eyes…. for they all knew what came next. 

 As the drumbeat started to increase, the first of the swirling dancers emerged. Their bodies covered in thin fabric that teased as much as it covered, leaving one longing for a glimpse only to be denied as she continued her provocative movements. The six beautiful women moved through the tables like swans gliding through water, each step, each sway of their hips graceful and in tune with the beat.

 "Who are they?" Ivar asked gruffly. These women were not the normal entertainment at a feast. Nor did he did not recognize any of them. 

 "They came with a trader from the Mediterranean." Ubbe answered, never removing his eyes from the dancers. "He petitioned with father yesterday to allow them the chance to entertain us in the way of their people…. or something along those lines."

 "Remind me to ask that trader where they are specifically from, because I know where I am going to explore next." Hvitserk stated with a smirk. 

 Ubbe bumped shoulders with Hvitserk, an unspoken agreement in the action. 

 Ivar rolled his eyes at their antics and turned his gaze back to the dancers…. Only to freeze when one locked eyes with him. 

 She stood across the fire, the flames appeared to lick and dance upon her skin. Every curve, each dip of her luxurious body highlighted in the flickering light. Her hair hung long, swaying with each movement, its own form of enticement. It was those eyes though, that held him spellbound to her. Large, luminous orbs that seemed to peer into his soul, that stole the very breath from his lungs. All he could do was stare as she danced. Each movement was pure elegance and seduction. The whole time those mesmerizing eyes kept him spellbound, oblivious to all but her. With her eyes locked on him, it felt she danced only for him. Each twirl of her body, each shake of her barely clad hips, her hands tracing patterns in the air, it all felt like a dance to entrance him. To maintain his attention. To rile up his blood and desire for her. To make him yearn for her with his whole body and soul. 

 When she finally released him from her gaze to spin away, he gasped in a lungful of air. Not realizing until now how he had forgotten to breathe while watching her, so enthralled by her, even air became unnecessary. 

 "You alright, Ivar?"

 The raven-haired Ragnarsson looked at Hvitserk, noticing the smile that teased the corners of his mouth. 

 "This is the closest he's seen a naked woman besides Margrethe and we all know how that went." Sigurd snarked, bringing his cup of ale to his lips. 

 "Shut up before I rip your tongue out and feed it to the flames." He snarled at his curly-haired brother. Fury stirred in the hollow of his chest like a wild animal threatening to tear apart its cage. 

 Ubbe smacked the table. "Enough. Both of you."

 The table quieted as their focus returned to the dancers. Eyes searching the hall, a slow-growing panic simmered in Ivar's gut as he could not see her. The other five dancers spun and twirled about, their bodies an example of art in motion. 

 Without warning, the gentle touch of a hand on his shoulder caused his head to whip to the side, ready to demand blood from the one with the audacity to touch him…. Only to be met with those eyes that made him flustered and hot all over. 

 With her touches tender, she trailed her hand from his shoulder up his neck to cup the side of his face. Even if the need arose, he would be unable to remove himself from her sensual touch and her penetrating gaze, bewitched by her to remain still. Never before had he felt so exposed to someone. Even the times when he broke bones and had to be carried like a child, humiliation ripping into his skin. Now he felt undone as she beheld him, consumed by her with just a look. If the other dancers were art, then she, this divine beauty beside him, was a masterpiece, crafted by the gods themselves.

 Waves of jealousy rolled off his brothers, crashing against him like stormy waves on a beach but for once, he did not care. His eyes stayed glued to her, hypnotized by her very presence. 

 Suddenly he found himself facing her, unable to remember when he turned away from the table. She stood between his brace-clad legs, gazing down at him. Her fingers traced over his cheek, only to land at his mouth. Her thumb rubbed his bottom lip, encouraging his lips to part. Unable to resist her, he obliged, lips parting slightly. She made no further move, either to draw away or closer. His heart beat rapidly with excitement and mischief. A streak of wicked intent made his lips curl slightly, giving him away. His leather-bound hands reached out for her thighs; the soft skin almost foreign beneath his calloused-hardened fingers. In the same instant, he nipped at her thumb, still lingering on his bottom lip. Then he waited for her reaction with an impish smirk.  

 She chuckled, a sultry, honeyed sound that flowed straight to his useless cock and made him shiver in delight. 

 Never removing her eyes from his, she reached down to grab one of his hands on her exposed thighs. Then torturously slow, she guided it up the contours of her body, his hand caressing her hip, up her stomach and between her full breasts until his hand was at her mouth. Without waiting, she encouraged two of his fingers within. As her tongue swiped and sucked on his fingers like they were a tasty treat, Ivar lost all ability to think or resist. His hand still on her, gripped her thigh to ground himself, to confirm this was not a dream. 

 Women never paid attention to him, never looked at him with lust. After the latest raid in England where he proved his prowess in strategy and as a warrior, less women looked at him with disgust.

 But never this. 

 Never had one put him under a spell that made him want to sell his soul to possess her. Never had he seen desire darken a woman's eyes as they beheld him. Never had his own body and mind reacted with such a carnal, animalistic instinct. 

 He pulled his fingers from her mouth and dropped his hand to curl around her throat with just the slightest pressure. "Are you a thrall?"

 "No." She answered in a breathy tone, that only intensified his growing lust. Then she leaned closer, her lips brushing his ear, those barely contained breasts almost in his face. "Do with me what you want, Ivar the Boneless. I am yours tonight."

 Whatever previous desire bubbled in his veins exploded at hearing her alluring whisper. A guttural groan lodged in his throat. The hunger for her reached an all-consuming, feverish pitch. Without a word, he pushed himself to his feet, slipping the crutch under his arm. "Come."

 He half expected her to laugh and walk away but instead, she traced a hand down the tunic over his torso with a purr of pleasure. Then when she looked up at him coyly once more, he was halfway to throwing her onto the table behind him to ravish her right there. 

 She silently followed him back to his room. The whole walk his mind raged, both in desire and fear. He knew he could not pleasure her as a man but this ethereal creature that followed him deserved to be worshipped. And she had chosen him tonight. Out of all those in the hall, including his brothers…. she chose him. 

 He vowed to make sure she did not regret it. 

 He dismissed his personal thrall as they walked in, pleased to see the fire lit in the small hearth and furs laid out before it. The door closed, echoing in the room. Once alone, he moved over to sit on a nearby stool, leaning his crutch on the wall behind him. 

 She watched the fire, standing in the middle of his room. Her clothing appeared almost translucent in this light, a way of directing and guiding the eye along her perfect body. 

 "Take off your clothes." He commanded in a husky tone. 

 With a seductive wink back at him, she tugged on the few ties keeping the minimal clothing on her flawless body. In a moment, everything pooled at her feet….and he damn near swallowed his tongue. Bare before him, he was convinced there was nothing more stunning, more gorgeous than her. She put every sunset to shame, every spring flower, every star to grace the night sky, nothing could ever compare to her. 

 "Dance for me, my beauty." 

 A beguiling smile on her lips, she watched him for a moment. Then she began to move. A slow sway of her hips, hands trailing up her body to rise above her head. 

 There was no force that could tear his gaze away from her. When she danced in the Great Hall, he had been memorized…. but now, it would be sinful to remove his eyes from her graceful form. The circular motion of her hips, her hands tracing the curves of her body, the heavy-lidded eyes that watched him. He wanted nothing more than to sit at her feet for eternity and watch her dance. To worship at her altar and bestow her with gifts from the Aesir. 

 Then she began to spin slowly, allowing him to see all of her, a music leading her that only she was aware of. At one point, she squatted down and slowly rose, only to snap her hips up in a way that made him audibly growl. His hands were clenched in his lap, desperate to touch her, to replace her hands with his as they caressed her body. 

 Finally he could stand it no longer, this enchanting, sensual dance that made his blood boil ceaselessly with desire. 

 He swallowed thickly, mouth dry. "Go by the fire." He demanded. 

 If she was confused by his command, she said nothing. Turning around she sashayed over to the furs laid in front of the small hearth in his room. His eyes greedily drunk in the curves of her body as she moved. She laid down on the pile of furs before the hearth, unashamed in her nudity. With the colors of the flames and shadows painted across her body, she appeared ethereal. Something only for the gods to view. Perfection at its purest form.

 Sitting on the stool, he quickly worked the straps of his braces, never taking his eyes off her. Unwilling to miss her glory for even a moment. She laid on her side, gaze on him. One hand propped her head up while the other skimmed those curves highlighted by the flames. 

 Once freed, he crawled over to her like the predator he was. Hunger and domination with each placement of his hands and shift of his shoulders. There was no doubt who was in control. His fierce gaze never removed from her, keeping her pinned with the same strength as if ropes held her down. As he approached, she silently rolled onto her back, an intensity in those eyes as they watched him and a kittenish smile on her lips. With that, he crawled up her body until he hovered over her, blanketing her perfect form. Then he waited. Staring down at her, he was shocked once again that she chose him. That she currently lay beneath, pliant to his touch and commands. It was a powerful and dark sensation. To have this control, this power over her….to have her at his mercy. A more rapturous feeling than killing Christian priests or obliterating any army. 

 "Ivar…." She sighed out, tracing the line of his jaw with her finger. "Don't keep me waiting."

 A crooked grin grew on his face. Here lay this Valkyrie, this goddess, this divine creature beneath him, begging for him. Without wasting a moment, his mouth descended on her skin, his arms holding himself just above her. He placed open-mouth kisses along her chest, loving the soft sounds of pleasure it drew from her. His tongue traced the curve of her breasts, paying special attention to the tattoo of a flower between them. Suddenly he drew one of her nipples into his mouth, causing her back to arch. Her hand flew up to grip his braids, as he sucked and licked the bud until it was hard and peaked, then he switched to the other side to repeat his ministrations. 

 "Ivar…." She moaned, tugging on his braids, hips rolling beneath them. 

 "Shhhh…. soon." He nipped at the side of her breast, pleased with the heat that flared in her eyes. "We go at my pace…. and I plan on taking my time."

 Slowly he slithered his way down her body, his tongue leading the way over her soft skin. There was nowhere he did not worship with his mouth, nowhere safe that his tongue did not covetously explore. By the time he was done with her, his mouth and tongue intimately knew every inch of her and the erotic sounds those spots drew from her lips. With a long swipe of his tongue starting at her sternum, he trailed it down between her breasts to her belly only to end at the top of her womanhood. 

 He glanced up from between her legs, the scent of her arousal a beacon for him to follow. She laid there, bathed in flames, coated in his saliva, chest rising and falling like the waves of the seas, with her eyes closed and mouth partly open. Never had he witnessed anything more magnificent. 

 "Still with me, my beauty?"

 Her eyes fluttered open to peek at him, a tantalizing smile on her lips. "Always."

 With that, he dove into her. His mouth feasted on the juices coming from her womanhood. It was nothing like he expected. She tasted sweeter than honey, stronger than ale. He continued to lap and lick her, wanting more, needing more of her taste. For he swore, this was the nectar of the gods. A sweet ambrosia not meant for mortal men. 

 Her cries of pleasure doubled his resolve to ravish her with his tongue. To bring her such pleasure that she would always remember him. He flicked at her clit with his tongue, watching her keen to the ceiling above. Her hips rolled as he sucked at her folds with reckless abandon. 

 Each mewl and cry from her mouth, made him feel like a god. Each chanting of his name seemed to strengthen his body to continue. Even as he laid on the floor, propped up on his elbows, her legs over his shoulders, he felt no pain. As if her ecstasy flowed back into him. Instead of the constant ache of pain from his legs that clawed at his mind ceaselessly, for once it was silenced. All he was aware of…. was her. As if she invaded his body and possessed his mind. 

 If he was to die now, with her cries of pleasure filling his ears, he knew Odin would still allow him into Valhalla. For to bring this celestial being pleasure must be akin to the glory of battle. His blood roared in his ears, forcing him to continue, desperate for more. Her taste on his tongue was a craving he never knew he had until now. In the cradle of her thighs was his new favorite place to exist. 

 When she peaked, when her pleasure overwhelmed her and his name was screamed into the very heavens above, he greedily ate away at her, drinking everything down and still yearning for more. He licked at her womanhood through the aftershocks, her taste and scent all his senses wanted to know. 

 Once satisfied, he peered up at her, expecting to see her blissed-out, eyes closed and immobile. Instead what he witnessed made him freeze, unable to move.

 She observed him with eyes that glowed like two full moons on the darkest of nights. 

 Where once he had been the predator, intent on devouring her, adamant to possess her…. now he understood. He was the prey. He was the one caught in the spider's web. He was the one now owned by her alone. Those glowing eyes entranced him, preventing him from looking away, sealing his mouth shut to call out. Unable to do anything but gawk at her in a bewildered, longing awe. 

 Slowly she leaned up, staring at him. He could not remember moving. All his mind could fathom were those eyes…. those glowing orbs that he swore had seen Valhalla, that galaxies swirled amidst, that stole his soul and branded her mark on him. When he next blinked, he was sitting, with her straddling his lap, in all her exquisite, naked glory. Her eyes beheld him with softness, her hands a gentle weight on his shoulders, even her bare breasts pressed against his chest, all of it alluded a power that could only be answered with reverence. 

 "Who…. are you?" He stuttered out. 

 She smiled; a captivating thing that made him want to worship her again but also sink his teeth into her bottom lip. "I have been called many things throughout my life. But tonight, those names do not matter. Tonight, I am simply y/n…. Tonight, I am here for you."

 "Y/n?"

 She purred as if the name stoked a fire within her. "Yes, my valiant warrior." Her hand tangled in his braids again, almost guiding his head to the side as her plump lips skimmed his jawline. "I have heard your prayers, seen your cries. I cannot give you your legs but I will give you what I can."

 A quake raced up his spine. "What?"

 "Shhhh…. surrender to me." 

 Hesitantly, she pressed her lips to his, as if giving him time to pull away. Instead, he felt a jolt shoot through him. He groaned, opening his mouth, allowing her to take control. He had thought her taste as he lapped greedily at her core was ambrosia, but her mouth…. oh, the taste of her mouth was both death and life combined. Something so intoxicating and potent, it stole the very breath from his lungs while a vitality bleed into his veins simultaneously.  Her mouth held him prisoner, a melding of their lips and tongues that scorched him in every way deliciously possible. 

 "Do you feel it?" She whispered, before delving into his mouth again with an even greater need. 

 And he did. By this point, his legs should be screaming at him, especially with her weight on his thighs. Instead there was no pain, no ache. Only blissful tingles danced on his nerves and a fire stirred in his belly. 

 He wrenched his mouth from hers, eyes wide and panting as he gawked at her. 

 "I cannot heal you," she quietly said, eyes still glowing, "but I can take some of your pain in exchange for the pleasure you gave me."

 Unexpected tears welled in his eyes. Pain, his constant companion since birth, now was barely a blip on his mental radar. He dropped his head to her chest, overwhelmed by the lessened pain and bliss coursing through his veins. As he thought about it, as he feasted on her, every lick, every caress of his tongue against her, pain drained from his body like slow droplets of water. It was only now he noticed, so caught up in her exquisite taste, that he easily could become drunk on and never wish to be sober again. 

 She spoke against his ear, authority and power ringing in each word. "Hear my words, Ivar the Boneless. Your fame will live on for generations. You will not be forgotten, in this life or the next. This is my final gift that I give you."

 She drew his face back to hers, pressing her lips to his in a fiery, desperate kiss. Her words, her touch, her taste, everything felt seared into the very marrow of his bones. A burst of white light and ecstasy flooded through him, making him wonder for a second if he died. 

 When he opened his eyes, mind hazy as if intoxicated, it was to find himself alone. Frantic, he looked around. Yet there was nothing to show of her presence. Not even her discarded clothes lay on the floor anymore. 

 "No….no, no, no." He mumbled, refusing to believe she was gone…. but there was no denying the truth. Yet even as he sat there, tears still slipping down his cheeks, he could feel her presence with the absence of pain. He could still taste her on his tongue. Strength and vitality flowed through his crippled body in ways he had never felt before. 

 He was unsure how long he sat there before a quick knock on his door interrupted his thoughts. It opened to reveal Hvitserk who cautiously stepped in, eyes scanning the room. 

 "You alright, brother?"

 Ivar wondered at the stupid question then realized he must be referring to the evidence of tears still staining his cheeks. Hastily he wiped them away on his sleeve. "What are you doing here?"

 "We thought we heard something…. I came to check on you." He tilted his head and scanned the room once again. "Where is she?"

 Ivar turned his face to the fire, without answering. How could he explain all that just occurred without sounding mad? That a glorious being chose him, used him for her pleasure and then gave him priceless gifts. No, no one would believe that. This was a memory, a present for him alone to cherish. 

 "You know if you need advice with pleasuring a woman, I am more than willing to help. They do call me the love guru." Hvitserk chuckled but immediately silenced at the stony glare Ivar sent his way. "Um, right. Well, I'll head back out." He started to walk away but stopped at Ivar's call. 

 "Wait!" When Hvitserk turned back around, Ivar swallowed thickly then continued. "What…. what color are my eyes?"

 The flaxen-haired brother moved closer. "Um, blue…. a vibrant blue…. they almost look like they are glowing but with a veil over them. I've never seen them like that before. Are you feeling alright? Do you want help getting to your bed?"

 Ivar smiled longingly, his chest squeezing at his brother's words. "No….no, I feel… I feel great, Hvitty."

 "Um, sure. Do you need anything?"

 "No, you can go back out to the feast."

 "Okay, good night, Ivar."

 Ivar did not answer, only just hearing the door closing as turned back to face the dancing flames. His mind drifted to thinking about her, his beauty. 

 Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed something nestled between the furs. Carefully he maneuvered himself over to gently grab it, curiosity pushing him forward despite caution. Cradling it in his hand like a priceless treasure, he now could see what it was; a pendant, only the size of his thumb, but it was in the color and shape of a full moon and an etching that matched the tattoo of the flower between her breasts. 

 "Y/n." He whispered, as if prompted by something to say her name. To his surprise, the pendant glowed faintly for a moment, so reminiscent of her eyes before dulling back. 

 "Thank you." He slipped his necklace off with Thor's hammer and added the pendant. Once back on his neck, he lifted the pendant and kissed it, only to stifle a moan as the faintest hints of her taste tingled on his lips. 

 Feeling euphoric, he laid back on the pile of furs, pressing the pendant to his lips. He closed his eyes, trying to remember every moment with her. He prayed that he could see her once again, either in this life or in Valhalla. For he knew, there would never be another like her. He had no idea who or what she was, only the name she gave him. A name that would be branded upon his heart and soul for all eternity. 

[joannasteez]

Hey lovely! Could I request a little something for Jax? It could be a headcanon or imagine, it’s up to you. But could it be about the reader is Angel and Ez’s little sister, and she’s in love with Jax?

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 {𝐇.𝐂}

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Jax Teller x Reyes!Reader

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: The emotional direction wasn’t specified so I kind of just went with what came to me, by the way, This is my very first request!!, so hope whoever sent it in enjoys ❤️

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: Angst. Fluff. I also suck at simplifying things so this is another long head canon, apologies if that sort of thing bothers you all lol.

Credits to the gif maker @tragertrap

Taglist: @my-rosegold-soul @appropriate-writers-name @est1887 @xladymacbethx @elektriknachosss @queenbeered @sesamepancakes @superhoeva @witching-hour @noz4a2 @nutterbu @withmyteeth

If you’d like to be tagged for Mayans MC fics ONLY let me know!!

☠︎

It amazed Felipe at times, scared him even, at how similar you looked to your mother Marisol. The spitting image of her; a younger, but slightly taller, reincarnation. But you were your fathers child through and through. The toothless yet warm endearing smile, the sharp intuitiveness, placid nature, and just through the black center of your eyes, enough experience to cover a few lifetimes. It’s what the Reyes men feared the most, that uncanny familial trait that forces you to bury such soul crushing pain, to turn cold to things that warrant warmth. Your father has it, your brothers as well, Ezekiel more than Angel, and so do you.

You had it now, that calm, collected demeanor, as the guys brought in a bleeding Jax Teller through the entry doors of the lodge. He was barely conscious, eyes dim, limbs heavy, and blood staining all along his color drained skin and the aged leather of his kutte. If you were anyone else you’d be alarmed, startled by the amount of blood and frantic men, but you were you, having seen too many things that resembled such a scene to let even a shudder pass through you.

“Get the kit, we need you to sew him up but he’s lost a lot of blood.”, Bishop says briskly, filled with worry, and your feet move faster than your mind can comprehend, snatching the kit laying near by and pacing to the bedroom where they have Jax. His head elevated by pillows, Both Ezekiel and Angel hot on your tail waiting for you to give them directions.

There’s a poorly wrapped cloth that lays against the wound, and just as you peel it back you pressurize the wound with a gauze. “I need gloves”, you say.

Angel’s a bit taken back, the President of the Sons original charter is on the precipice of death and you’re talking about gloves. “We don’t have time for that”.

“Just get the fucking gloves Angel”, you clip. Tone harsher than it’s meant to be, but he takes no offense and moves quick for the gloves before coming back.

You’re cleaning Jax’s skin once there on, wiping away all the blood that pours from him. A needle in your hand, eyes steady. “This is gonna hurt”.

Jax is sweating, teeth clenched at the piercing sting of the needle. “You sure you know what you’re doing?”

Did he really just ask you that? “I guess we’ll just have to find out”, you deadpan.

“Y/N”, Ezekiel warns.

The situation isn’t funny, a man’s life is on the line but still, you want to laugh at the audacity. “What?! He’s got a bullet in his abdomen and he’s worried about if I know what I’m doing”.

There’s silence now, a heaviness that settles to suffocate the whole lodge it seems. A dread of existential proportions that looms like a phantom in the waning rusted gold of the setting sun. The stillness is calming as you work, slipping the fine needle through his paling skin with a frightening ease that forces a worried look to Ezekiel’s face, Angel’s as well. Mayhem has consumed them all, men who laugh in the face of death everyday are doubling over, overwrought with fear, and here you are, unaware of the dark silhouette that threatens to form over Jax’s body, inching over the walls, creeping slowly as they tease whispers of death through the wispy blow of the wind.

Your brothers leave after while, called out by Bishop and Chibs who are talking over possible scenarios for revenge.

“Can you stay after this......... please?” It’s barely a whisper, and it’s drawled, but you hear the need in his voice.

It compels you to say “Okay”.

When you’re finished you wipe at Jax’s skin again, fingers trembling just the slightest as your mind catches up with your body, or is it the other way around? You’re not sure, but the two have surely had a crashing reunion and now you’re exhausted at such a fast build and fall of adrenaline. You’re thinking now, at the side of the bed, of deeply buried memories because the blood reminds you, it always does. All you see is Marisol, and your vision is blurred, eyes glistening with warm tears that comfort your skin, thumb shaking as you push the wetness away. She’s so lovely in your mind, a bright silhouette framing her and she’s so beautiful, so light and gentle. The aura of her, just from a thought, it makes her presence palpable again, till you remember she isn’t really there. Because it’s just a memory. A timeless mirage of sorts that ungrounds you from reality.

You breath, looking to the clock to find that it’s been three hours already. Three hours of you looking through your memories for your mother, Marisol. It’s purposeful, must be, why the need to think of her is so strong in this moment of all moments.

It’s infuriating, that you weren’t there, you couldn’t save her, but you were here now and you saved Jax. That counts for something right? It had to.

He’s awake again, and you’re not sure how but he is. Must be the force of his will that has his eyes opening, fighting against a sleep that feels too much like forever. “You alright?”

His eyes are a near lifeless blue but still they’ve got shine to them. “I should be asking you that, you’re the one that got shot”.

“Why the tears darlin’ ?”

You’re not up for a personal deep dive, never have been really. “Don’t know what you’re talking about”.

He smiled, noticing your reserved demeanor. “They we’re probably tears for me, I saw how worried you were earlier”, he jokes sarcastically.

You roll your eyes. “Why’d you want me to stay?”

“Didn’t want to die alone, if I did”.

You shake your head, fully convinced of otherwise. “You weren’t gonna die”.

He gives a weak smile. “I know that now since we’re talking, unless this is a dream, or some purgatory shit then I’m screwed”.

You chuckle at his dazed rambling and it makes his weak smile a little stronger as it spreads. Amusement looks good on you. Pretty. “There it is”, he says. Talking about your little smile.

There’s a stretch of silence, and it’s contemplative for Jax. Flashes of the incident from moments prior running through his mind. He’d just met Galindo for the first time, shook his hand, exchanging pleasantries. They’d talked business and at the end all parties seemed happy with the results, but it made him wary. How well everything was going, something somewhere was bound to go wrong, and yeah maybe he was a bit too pessimistic in the moment but it proved him right. The Sons and The Mayans were riding back to the lodge when the Lobos attacked and he can’t remember much after that, just feeling more than alive and then a little ways from death. His father calling him and then his mother, and he almost answered. He’s glad he didn’t.

“I’m sure you know as much as I do, you see a lot of shit when you live this life. Seen more guys than I can count take a bullet, and more times than none I’ve been the one to give it to them”. He’s quiet, contemplative. On the rise of something that resembles an epiphany. “After a while they just become faceless y’know, nameless, just kill #52 on someone’s list. That’s what it felt like, I was about to be on somebody’s fucking list and that shit is scary”. He turns to you then. “And then the next thing I know I’m in here, with your pretty ass standing over me saving my life. I thought I was in heaven”.

You roll your eyes, it’s delirium from the blood loss, making him say things he doesn’t mean. “Even with a bullet wound, flattery gets you no where Teller”.

“Tell me what does”.

———————————————————

𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑 & 𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐇 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑

He’s warm under your skin, heartbeat a sweet song that pulses a quiet steady rhythm into your ears. It’s a comforting thing, soothing and mellow like the fiery cool blend of a setting summer sun.

You feel his hand, cool rings caressing the nape of your neck. “You awake baby?”

You move against him, to let him know that you are and a hand pulls gentle at your chin. “Let me see you darlin’ ”

Your body pulls up atop of his, bare chest moving along his and toward him so that you’re face to face, legs tangled together. His hands reach to caress your face, touch a gentle flame that burns to light your skin. It’s the first time you’ve seen him in the morning for weeks, the club stealing him away every moment it could, screwing around with the days you’d set aside to see each other. He grins, loving the dim set of your sleepy eyes. “Hi”.

“Hi”, you say. Tone rasped, sleepy.

There’s a glimmer in his stare, a dazzling sparkle that lives just over the grayish blue of his irises. You don’t identify it, what the warm glint means, for fear of being wrong, but somewhere inside, you know it’s love. It looks to pure to be anything else. He’s grinning again, all nostalgic like. “I was thinking just now, about that day when you patched me up. Best day of my life”.

You scoff. “You almost died”.

“But I got to meet you”.

You’re shaking your head at how lovey dovey he’s being. “Always with the flattery”.

“I’m serious, I fuckin’ love you. More than I ever thought I could”. He rolls you both over easy, his lean build on top surrounding you, fingers still caressing idly against your face and yours drawing along his tattooed back. He kisses you, patient and deep, as if to savor this moment. Staining his memory with the soft pliant flesh of your lips, the airy moan that resonates from your chest, and the lulling skim your nails give the gold of his hair. Forget the Irish and their guns, the Cartel and their H and everything that isn’t this. If he could, he’d stay with you here. Just like this. Forever.

He’s at your neck now, teasing you with tongue wet kisses and stingless nips, but something comes to mind. A wary thought that’s bugged you for a while. “When are we gonna tell my father about us. I want you to meet him”.

He looks to you, confused. “You don’t wanna tell your brothers first?”

“Ezekiel already knows. Found out the first time we met back up to see each other”. You’d thought you’d been sneaky enough that night, leaving after everyone fell asleep, but Ezekiel was always a couple steps ahead it seemed, following you out of Santo Padre a few hours to a bar where you’d met up with Jax. The conversation with him was easier than you expected, but still he was wary, and how couldn’t he be. You were his baby sister. He’d worry till his last breath. “... and I told Angel a couple of weeks ago. Couldn’t really get out of explaining how I had your rings laying around”. You couldn’t remember much of what that admission to him entailed, besides the look of disbelief he had, and then the screaming, and then eventually the forced calm of his expression when he realized that there was nothing he could do about it. It was still unbelievable to him, you weren’t that little girl anymore, no matter how much he wanted you to be.

You were grown, beyond capable of making your own decisions. But boy did it scare you having to tell Felipe.

“Whenever you want to tell him I’m ready”.

His sureness makes you smile, wide and bright, laying a kiss to his rosy lips. “I love you too Jackson”.

[orangedodge]

“I know as much of war as you do, Crow’s Eye,” Asha said. “Aegon Targaryen conquered Westeros with dragons.”

“And so shall we,” Euron Greyjoy promised. “That horn you heard I found amongst the smoking ruins that were Valyria, where no man has dared to walk but me. You heard its call, and felt its power. It is a dragon horn, bound with bands of red gold and Valyrian steel graven with enchantments. The dragonlords of old sounded such horns, before the Doom devoured them. With this horn, ironmen, I can bind dragons to my will.” A Feast for Crows, Chapter 19

I’ve thought about this for years because I’ve always felt like the Doom of Valyria needed to have its own Ar-Pharazôn moment, to explain why it happened when it happened. The Faceless Men assassinated the fire mages, yes, but the mundane explanation feels like it needs to be paired with a more grandiose, mythological, revelation. Some final audacity that cursed them in the eyes of the gods, and doomed all of them, except for the one family that was spared.

On paper, there doesn’t seem like there should be a reason for House Targaryen to have been spared. The Valyrian dragonlords were evil slave masters, who ruled a continent through blood and fear for generations. And House Targaryen appear to have been guilty of those crimes, the same crimes as the other dragonlords. Yet despite that they were given supernatural dreams warning them of the doom, and a chance to escape to Westeros, renounce most of their old status, and start over again. What separated them from the others?

“There is a reason. A dragon is no slave.” And Dany swept the lash down as hard as she could across the slaver’s face. Kraznys screamed and staggered back, the blood running red down his cheeks into his perfumed beard. The harpy’s fingers had torn his features half to pieces with one slash, but she did not pause to contemplate the ruin. “Drogon,” she sang out loudly, sweetly, all her fear forgotten. “Dracarys.”

The black dragon spread his wings and roared. A Storm of Swords, Chapter 27

His scales were hot to the touch, like armor left too long in the sun. Dragons are fire made flesh. She had read that in one of the books Ser Jorah had given her as a wedding gift. A Dance with Dragons, Chapter 2

“R’hllor,” Ser Godry sang, “we give you now four evil men. With glad hearts and true, we give them to your cleansing fires, that the darkness in their souls might be burned away. Let their vile flesh be seared and blackened, that their spirits might rise free and pure to ascend into the light. Accept their blood, Oh lord, and melt the icy chains that bind your servants. Hear their pain, and grant strength to our swords that we might shed the blood of your enemies. Accept this sacrifice, and show us the way to Winterfell, that we might vanquish the unbelievers.” A Dance with Dragons, Chapter 62.

Dragons, and fire in general, are repeatedly associated with freedom. They are the instrument through which the gods, R’hllor, in particular, offer salvation. Therefore to a follower of the Red God, I get the feeling that using dragonbinder would amount to a sin of the highest magnitude, a crime against the heavens and the order of the universe. Which tracks with everyone who blows dragonbinder quickly being consumed from within by fire, and with Victarion--dragonbinder’s current owner--being quite obviously cursed already.

I don’t recall any example of House Targaryen binding their dragons to them. It seems to have been the one line they didn’t cross. Whatever connection they have, it seems to be something closer to what skinchangers do. I don’t think “natural” is the way to describe it, since magic is magic, but the connection that grows between the dragonseeds and their mounts, often from childhood and seemingly through dreams, seems more benign than what Euron is suggesting his magic horn will accomplish. It makes the dragon their partners, not their slaves.

[ffangirlingsince2001]

Nothing Alike: VI

Description: Geralt of Rivia has been tasked with taking out a fellow Witcher who has decided to settle down in a town. She has no intention of leaving and Geralt is forced to take matters into his own hands.

Geralt x Reader

Warnings: gore, a lil torture, angst, language, kidnapping

MASTERLIST

It was practically impossible to catch a Witcher, and yet the men surrounding them had managed to catch two.

Geralt had been shaken awake with a knife pressed to his throat and a sly smile staring down at him in the morning sun. Y/N was already bound to a tree, a gag in her mouth (at least their captors were smart, this situation could only be made worse by her big mouth). Much to his surprise, she wasn’t struggling at all. She sat there limply, head slumped against her chest.

“What’s wrong with her?” he growled, trying to sit up but the knife only pressed harder against his throat, a small trickle of blood appearing on the sharp blade.

“Nothing to worry about, old man,” he growled, “Now I’d learn a lesson or two from your keep and do exactly as we say.” With disgruntled ease, Geralt allowed himself to be tied to a tree, watching Y/N closely. She looked roughed up, hair matted, part of her shirt was torn, exposing skin. She must have been knocked out when they caught her, that was the only explanation for her lack of movement. And then the captors looked away for a moment, conversing quietly between themselves, and she looked up shooting him a sly wink. When their captors returned, she instantly returned to her state of submission.

He was absolutely bewildered.

“Alright missy, up you go,” one said, yanking her free of the ropes by the forearm. She promptly burst into tears, begging him to let her go. Now Geralt really was confused. Last he checked, Y/N was a fighter, who wasn’t going to let anyone put their hands on her, even if it was pretend, and yet she continued to sob.

“Please, my father has money, I’ll give you whatever you want,” she was pleading, throwing all her weight into the mans grip until he was forced to drop her to the ground. She didn’t run as Geralt had anticipated, simply kept crying.

“If the man has money, he can go to auction just like everyone else,” the captor growled and Geralt’s eyes widened. The auction, they were going to try and sell two witchers at an auction? Well, maybe only one, he couldn’t be sure they knew she was a Witcher with the way she was weeping all over the place.

“But how is he supposed to know I’m there?” she continued to weep, soaking the dirt with crocodile tears. The dirty man above her showed her a yellow grin.

“Call it, father’s intuition,” he laughed, before grabbing her and throwing her over his shoulder, walking out of the clearing. He listened for her crying as long as it stayed within earshot. He returned his golden eyes to the three men still within the clearing and glared at them. They were clearly nervous about moving the Witcher, and rightly so.

None of them seemed to be the first to approach. He had to fight the urge to roll his eyes, it wasn’t as if he could breathe fire. Eventually, the man who had dragged Y/N away returned and scoffed at the cowardly men.

“Not a brain among the lot of you,” he mocked before marching right up to Geralt and slammed the pommel against his skull, sending Geralt to sleep once more.

When he woke again, it was dark. A few torches lit the area, and he was able to take in his surroundings. He was in a prison cart sitting across from an amused looking Y/N. There were no tears, and she was only lightly bound. A single knot bound her wrists (loosened by the looks of it) and nothing more, even the gag was gone. He on the other hand was bound to the bars themselves, arms spread eagle, a complicated and well-practiced knot keeping his feet bound to the bars across the cart. She offered him a smug smile, noting the difference in bindings.

“Nice of you to finally join us,” she whispered, “I was getting bored.”

“How long have I been out?”

“Almost the whole day, I’m surprised he didn’t shatter your skull, not that anything could get through that thick skull of yours,” she teased, pulling one of her hands free from the bindings and scratching her nose, if only to mock him. With ease she slipped it back inside the ropes, grinning all the while.

“Do they know you’re a Witcher?”

“Speaking of your thick skull. Of course not, well at least they didn’t until you yelled it for the whole world to hear.” He rolled his eyes, still as dramatic as ever.

“Why didn’t you escape when he dropped you?”

“And leave you to rot?”

“You could have killed all four and you know it.” Her eyes widened and she stuck out her bottom lip.

“Poor little me, I’ve never killed anyone in my whole life?” Her tone was so sweet it turned his stomach.

“Shut up, why didn’t you?”

“Curiosity.”

“So, you’re interested in auctions?”

“Maybe.” She had a plan; he just knew it. Frankly, he wouldn’t be surprised if she had purposely let herself be caught just to fuck with someone other than him.

“And what happens when they sell you?”

“Who knows, I’m sure I’ll go accustom to being someone’s whore, just as I’m sure you will.” He growled, lunging at her, but the ropes held him back. “Feisty,” she laughed, “they’re not going to like that at the auction, you might even earn yourself some lashes.” He lunged again, shaking the cart and drawing the attention of the driver.

“Quiet, Witcher,” one called, and he glared at her. She only smiled innocently.

“How many are there?”

“Six, but only two of them have any brawn in this, the rest are just hoping to make some money to feed their families.”

“You sound sympathetic.”

“Do I?”

“Very, and what’s happened to our swords.”

“They’re in the front, they plan on selling those too. Thought it was funny you had four.” He rolled his eyes and leaned back to ignore her, hopefully finding a few more minutes of sleep, but he was deeply disappointed. The cart slowed to a stop and she brought the knot to her teeth, tightening it before huddling into a corner. He could hear footsteps behind him, and the door flew open. The well-dressed man allowed his gaze to drift around his two captives with a twisted smile. Eventually, he settled on Y/N and crooked a finger, motioning for her to come forward.

She had the audacity to whimper.

“Come now, I won’t hurt a pretty prize like you.” She nodded submissively and crawled over his legs slowly, clumsily pulling herself forward with bound wrists. He growled at her, and she squeaked, earning himself a jab to the side with the mans walking stick. She practically fell into the man’s arms, stumbling over her apologies as he helped her down. “No worries my dear, all the fault of that monster.”

A man who hated witchers, truly, how original.

“Now, I have some questions for you, and I need you to answer them for me as honestly as you, do you understand?” She looked up at him with wide eyes but said nothing until his grip tightened against her skin.

“Yes,” she yelped and he must have released the pressure because she relaxed. He set her down and stood before her, looming over the huddled figure.

“Very good. First question, what’s your name?”

“Elvina.”

“See, easy questions, now what are you doing all alone in the woods with nothing but a monster to keep you company.”

“I’m a child surprise,” she whispered and Geralt swore he was going to strangle her the moment he was untied.

“You told my men your father had money, and this may be true, but you don’t have a father if you are a child surprise. Isn’t that correct.” Geralt held his breath, waiting for her response. The lies were already catching up to her. They were both going to be dead before sunrise. She was barely visible in the darkness, but he could tell she had slumped over as she began to cry.

“I was scared. I didn’t know what to say, I lied, please don’t kill me,” she begged, holding the hem of the man’s coat. Patiently, he pushed her back to the stump she had been sitting on.

“We will deal with your lies later, but for now I need you to continue to be honest.”

“I’m so sorry,” she cried again.

“Later, we will deal with that later. Now, Elvina are you pure?”

“Yes, yes of course,” she lied through the tears. Geralt was surprised was able to contain his laughter, he was sure she hadn’t been pure since she learned what sex was.

“Very good. Do you have any skills?”

“I can heal all right, and sew, but I’m a terrible cook, sir. The Witcher always yells at me for my cooking.”

“That’s alright, I’m sure there are uses other than cook for a pretty thing like you.”

“Are you really going to sell me?”

“Yes.” She started crying again. “Now, none of that, there will be tears to shed in a moment. Heinrick, come here,” he ordered and the dirty man who had knocked him out earlier emerged from the darkness.

“Yes sir?”

“Elvina here lied to us earlier about the money.”

“A real shame, sir.”

“Yes, I agree, but you know what must be done, don’t you?”

“I do, sir.”

“Then, I’ll leave you to it.” With that, the well-dressed man disappeared from sight, leaving Y/N alone with Heinrick. The man stood over her, raising a hand that summoned to other men. They approached from behind her crying figure and quickly snatched her from the ground. One took her by the waist, pulling her to his lap as she screamed in surprise. The other held one of legs down while she struggled.

“What are you doing, let me go,” she cried out, and for a moment Geralt thought she might not be acting anymore.

“Not yet, we have a tradition for liars,” he said with a grin, pulling something from his pocket that Geralt couldn’t make out. She was silent as she watched, but he could tell she was still struggling.

And then the screaming started.

It wasn’t fake. No one could fake something so horrible as the scream that filled the quiet darkness. If he had been any closer, he was sure his ears would have bled from sheer pain. He never wanted to hear anything so awful ever again, especially not from her. She was so strong, so unwilling to show fear, and yet all he could hear was fear and pain. He wanted to call out to her, but he could already hear her chastising him about blowing their cover, so he did his best to remain quiet as she screamed.

When the screams disappeared, he could hear the men surrounding her laughing as she panted. One whispered something into her ear, and she whimpered, only making the men laugh harder. Quickly, she was hauled towards the cart and tossed inside, followed by a small bundle of cloth.

“Don’t let yourself bleed out,” came the unsympathetic call before he too disappeared into the darkness. Geralt tried to see the damage, but it seemed that there wasn’t any, until his eyes landed on her exposed feet.

Two toenails were gone, completely pulled from the roots. Her whole body was shaking as she wrapped the cloth around her foot. It was red in an instant, dripping onto the wood beneath them.

“Y/N,” he whispered but she didn’t look up, she just kept tightening the bandage. “Y/N,” he tried again and this time she looked up at him.

He wished she hadn’t.

Her face was streaked in tears, eyes still full of them. Her bottom lip was quivering, and there was no one to act for. Finally, she let out a shaky laugh mixed with a sob and leaned back into her corner.

“This is going to fun, very fucking fun.”

He was sure somewhere deep in her twisted mind she was right; he could only hope someone would pray for mercy on their souls, because he surely wouldn’t.

Taglist: @stuckupstucky​ @aurora-sweet​ @holyhumorliteraturelight​ @dreams-of-sunlight-and-starfire @auds24

[oneoftheextras]

treasure | dragon!hawks

dragon!hawks x reader

masterlist  | tip jar

from the kinktober requests: “Could I request Tombstone, Peach, and 2 :D″

tombstone - hawks (keigo takami), peach - dragon, 2 - submissive

warnings: 18+, kidnap (if you squint), yandere characteristics, breeding kink, unprotected, choking & general sin

“I’m sorry, you know we have no choice” your father said as he stroked a stray hair out of your face, you whipped your face as far away from him as you could, the thought of him touching you made you feel disgusted.

The people who you used to call family, the members of your own village, had tied you to a wooden table with the strongest rope they had. All because you were of age and unmarried.

“Father please” you pleaded with him, surely he wouldn’t allow them to leave you here in the clearing of the forest - but he turned his back on you as soon as the last knot was tightened.

The village priest had the audacity to stand at the end of the table and raise his hands into the air. “On the night of the full moon, we bring you our offering, she is pure and she is young” he started the mantra. 

Every 3 months this would happen, normally you would watch from the shadows, too ashamed to help or protest. For thousands of years, your small village had been plagued by dragon who would slaughter their livestock and destroy their buildings - that was until your great great grandfather started leaving ‘offerings’ for the beast as a way to appease him.

It started with a few sheep and pigs, which didn’t entirely stop the dragon’s destruction but definitely reduced it. The villagers started leaving other offerings: gold, food, gems, until finally resorting to humans. At first they gave him the elderly, but when that didn’t please him, they started choosing villagers at random.

Through a lot of trial and error they found that the beast stayed away for 2 months when they gave him a younger woman, and when he didn’t show on the night of the 2nd month when one of the herbalist’s virgin daughters was offered up - they realised they could keep him at bay for 3 whole months.

The price was a woman of age that was untouched and unclaimed.

You knew it was risky to refuse the hand’s of the other men in the village, but you’d stupidly thought you were safe by being the daughter of the village chief; oh how wrong you were.

“We give you her willingly in exchange for our livestock and our village” he finished the chant that you had heard so many times, but you never thought you would be hearing it from this angle.

The silence that came next was unbearable, you could hear every bird within the area chirping away, completely oblivious to the scene happening just seconds away from their woodland home. 

Until the chirping stopped. Even the river seemed to hold its breath as the faint thump was heard in the distance.

At first it was subtle, a distant sound that you could have easily mistaken for the sound of your own heart beating in your chest. But then you heard it again, this time it was two thumps, one after the other - and then you felt the wind push past the trees.

Then you saw it.

The power of it’s wings pushed aside the treeline and it’s humungous body blocked out the moonlight, all that could be seen was the shadow of his form.

Your people started to scream and scramble away, not retreating from the scene earlier when they had the opportunity to. The shape came closer and closer until the shadow had a red hue to it.

Almost too quickly, you felt yourself being lifted into the air as your body was ripped from the platform you were bound to, parts of the wood splintering and coming with your limbs.

The drastic change in altitude made your head go woozy but unfortunately, you didn’t manage to pass out, you weren’t that lucky. You watched the trees become a distant blur of green and the faint light of your village disappeared until it looked no brighter than a star in the sky. 

When you reached the beast’s cave, he dumped you on top a pile of fabric, they were a sea of different colours and materials - it felt weird to feel satin on your palms and then silk near your arms.

Instantly, you eyed the small bit of moonlight shining through the cave entrance and you played with the idea of making a run for it, it it weren’t for him heading back in that direction.

His body was even bigger up close, he was covered in huge red scales that were the size of your hand, the patches towards his tail got smaller and smaller the closer it got to the tip. He even had to duck his head slightly to avoid scraping it against the roof of the cave that was easily the size of a 4 floor building.

Every step he took shook the ground with his claws scratching again the cold stone. He balanced on his back legs and pushed a huge bolder in front of the only light source you had, and sealing your escape route.

The thumping started again as you fell the vibrations get harder and louder as, you assumed, he made his way towards you. Then they stopped, you held your breath as you waited for any audible indication of where he was.

“Are you frightened, little bird?” you heard a human voice say followed by the sound of a match being struck. The sudden light made you squint, but when you saw a blonde man with golden eyes standing in front of you lighting a portable torch.

You cautiously glanced around the area trying to locate the scaled beast, but it had seemingly disappeared. The blonde man eyed you for a while, smirked, and then used the torch he was holding to light a few hanging lanterns that were attached to the walls of the cave.

Once the room was illuminated enough for you to see the man fully, you realised where the dragon went. On his back were a pair of huge red wings, they were scaled just as the creature’s were. This man somehow had the ability to transform from a huge mythical being into what almost fooled you into being a normal human man.

He seemed to relish in the fact that you weren’t able to answer his question due to being so stunned at his appearance.

“Keigo” he said, extending his hand out to you as though he wanted to shake your hand. “That’s my name” he clarified as though he was just saying the word for no reason.

Taking his hand in yours, you noticed how the red scales continued to travel in patches up his arms and hands.

“Are you going to eat me? you quivered, as soon as you finished your sentence he erupted into a fit of laughter. “Why would I eat you?” he asked back, extinguishing the torch he was holding with a strong breath. Trying to avoid eye contact, you attempted to explain yourself, “That’s what you’ve done to the other women, haven’t you?”

Again, the room filled with his laughter, “God no!” he spat out, taking a moment to brush the dirt off of his bare shoulders - it must have attached itself to him when you were flying. “Human’s have hardly any meat on their bones, it would be more effort to eat you than it’s worth” he casually explained as though being told what its like to eat humans was a normal conversation.

You couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed by the assumptions you were making. “Where are they?” you bravely asked and he turned his body towards you, “I let them go” he shrugged as though it was nothing.

Starting is ascension up the mound of fabric, you noticed that he was completely naked. It made sense. He wasn’t wearing any clothes when he was a dragon, so why would be be wearing any now.

Averting your eyes quickly, you felt your cheeks heating up, “They deserved a better life than to be traded away for a few sheep” he displayed a displeased frown, you had never thought of it that way.

“Are you going to let me go?” you asked hopeful, you would be able to return to your family and explain to the village what you’ve seen. “Oh no” his frown turned into a smirk as he crouched down in front of you. If you were being honest, it was hard not to watch the thing that was dangling in between his thighs.

Then his words hit you, “What? Why?!” you asked, panic setting back in again, his hand came up to graze your chin, you were too frightened to pull away but were surprised at how soft his fingers were. “I like you” he smiled, and that was the only explanation he gave. 

Using the hand that was already under your chin, he pulled your face up to meet his and gently kissed your lips, it was quick and delicate - in no way you thought he would be.

“You’ll stay here with me, mine” he growled the last word as though the dragon inside him was taking over his thoughts, his golden eyes merging and twisting into red reptilian irises, “Got it?” he more told you than asked, but you shook your head in agreement anyway. 

Before you knew it he was on you, his chest pressed flat against yours with only your nightie to separate you, his lips trailing kisses down your neck as his hands drew the outline of your hips.

This was not how you thought tonight was going to go, but you were not complaining; often you found your hands trailing up his sides and brushing against his scaled wings.

It took you by surprise when his hand drifted in between your legs and abruptly push his fingers inside of you. You gasped, not expecting it, he had been so delicate with his kisses that his hand was a complete contrast.

If it weren’t for how turned on you were by his mouth, it would have hurt. Every time he pushed his fingers into you he hit your g-spot which made you moan so loudly that it bounced off the walls of his cave.

But he never let it linger, almost immediately he would drag them to the point where you would feel completely empty again, only to have them attack your spot again.

When you started to whimper because you felt your orgasm quickly approaching did he fully withdraw his digits from you. The cry that left your mouth was shameful.

Hastily, you craned your neck forward to look to where his eyeline had shifted, you watched as he prodded your entrance with the head of his cock, but he was hesitating.

For the first time since all of this started you glanced up to make eye contact with him, but he was already staring down at you. “Ready baby bird?” he asked quietly, waiting for your approval.

Without hesitation, you nodded frantically. Almost the same second you started to nod your head, he shoved himself inside you earning a moan from both of you. Pushing further and further until you could feel the tickle of his hair against your lips, you felt the fabric under your head start to dip.

You opened your eyes slowly and looked towards where you felt the shift in weight to see what his hand had turned into a huge red claw with shiny scales making their way to his elbow - he was starting to lose control of his form.

When he started to move inside of you, you watched as his razor sharp claws dug into the fabric; some of the more delicate pieces started to fray under the pressure.

He gave you time to adjust to him, but you could feel his want to move faster and harder. Almost as a way to encourage him, you wrapped your legs around his waist so he could get a better angle.

Instantly he moved his human hand to your hip so he could stabilise you as he set an unrelenting pace, even before your brain could register the ecstasy it was producing he had already pulled back to ram back into you again.

You could feel your walls pulsating around him, only emphasising how you could already feel every vein of his cock. His clawed-hand drifted from your fabric bed and up to your throat. He gently squeezed, not putting enough pressure to cut off air flow but enough to make your heart race - you could feel the sharpness of his talons against your skin but somehow trusted him not to scratch you.

“You’re mine, my treasure” he growled as he continued to impale you over and over, you held his scaled arm as a way to try and ground you as you unintentionally tensed around him. 

One side of his mouth raised in a cocky smirk “Do you want to cum?” he sarcastically asked, it was obvious from your body language that’s what you wanted. You did your best to nod with his claw wrapped around your throat.

“I’m gunna - need to hear it - Baby Bird” he grunted in between words, he was clearly close too. “P-Please” you barely squeaked out, “What was that?” he pretended that he didn’t hear you. “Please, Keigo!” you loudly yelled, you didn’t need to wait for his permission, you couldn’t hold onto it anymore.

You unconsciously gripped his cock with your walls as you moaned through your own orgasm. He continued to push himself past your tight muscles “I’m gunna cum” he groaned underneath the noises you were making “I’m gunna fill you up until your human body can’t take it anymore” he growled, his primal side taking over.

“I’ve been waiting years for them to give you to me, waiting for you to carry my chicks” he confessed through pants, but his sentence was cut off by a somewhat animalistic roar as you felt his cock convulse and release his cum into you. It was almost enough to make you orgasm a second time.

After a couple of moments, he withdrew himself from you and nuzzled down into the blanket nest beside you. He pulled you close to him so his chest was against your back.  Maybe being the village sacrifice wasn’t so bad.