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#you cannot take that from him. you cannot take the teeth out of his character like that
carlyraejepsans · 1 year
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with toriel and asgore it's like. they're both flawed and their flaws parallel one another, but they're not EQUALLY flawed... like..... come on......
#let's be serious here. just say you don't like toriel and move on. but don't pretend her hypocrisies were in any way comparable#in size in subsequent damage or in blame to asgore's own#the game goes out of its way to show asgore's actions as wrong. both towards his people and towards toriel. noble yes. sympathetic. tragic.#heartwrenching. narratively impeccable and capable of genuine chance. but fundamentally the wrong choice made by a good man#toriel may not have made the best possible choice at every turn but her final intentions were the morally correct ones#she just did what she KNEW was right. even when it meant leaving her entire life and people behind to live in isolation.#asgore backed toriel into that corner just as much as he did himself#he was a good man who was in a world of hurt and that decision hung over him for the rest of his life but it WAS. HIS. DECISION.#you cannot take that from him. you cannot take the teeth out of his character like that#and you cannot take toriel's role as the person who challanges and refutes his decision from her#her entire character was created as a subversion of rpg motherhood. and how it had so little of motherhood in it.#letting children venture out into the wilderness to face god knows what god knows where#WHICH IS!!! IN ITSELF!!!! A NARRATIVE PARADOX. because it's something that the genre requires for the story to exist#you can't play the whole game on tutorial. the contradictory nature of her stance between morality & ut's genre is built into her character#that's what makes her so freaking interesting to begin with!!!!!! like.#OUGH#undertale#toriel#asgore#entry log
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quimichi · 3 months
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↳ ❝ [YOU WAKE HIM UP WITH NONSENSE] ¡! ❞ pt.2
warnings: Pet names idk some might cringe at that, bad writing, Ace affectionately calling you bitch, some maybe turn out ooc - i just suck at a few characters-my apologies
summary: You wake him up in the middle of the night talking complete nonsense
characters: Twst boys x F!Reader
word count: 4.246
a/n: THIS IDEA WAS NOT FROM ME, unfortunately i can't find the creator so if you remember tag them! My writing wasn't as good as theirs tho
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Riddle
Riddle's slumber is disturbed by the sound of his name. He doesn't answer right away, opening his eyes slowly and blinking a few times before he realizes his surroundings. "My rose?..." he asks, voice tired and hoarse.
He sits up, looking over at you. He sees you, and his expression softens. "Are you not able to sleep?..." "Remeber when i was walking my whale in the mountains, and i met two talking closets offering me a discount on money?" Clearly you make no sense, after all this was planned. You have to stiffle your laugh and giggles but you manage to stay serious nonetheless. Riddle blinks a few times as he tries to process what you're saying, his sleepy brain refusing to comprehend the words.
As his thoughts clear, his eyebrows frown as he attempts to make any sense of you talking about closets. Or discounts on money.
He blinks a third time to clear his vision. The expression on his face is pure gold, priceless. He looks adorable with his mouth agape. Riddle blinks a few more times. His eyes flicker as he attempts to discern your words, but he is too sleepy to put together the pieces.
"You walked a whale?" he finally manages. "Talking closets? Discount? Mountains??" He lets himself drop backwards onto the bed again and left out a sigh. "Mhm! Talking closets in the mountains" you softly laugh as you kiss his cheek and lay down beside him. Riddles cheeks heat up lightly, and he cannot help but blush.
"You can tell me all about it once its the right time..." and before you could even answer, he's out again....
Trey
The sound of your voice stirs him from sleep, and his eyes flutter open. Trey blinks a few times, the softest smile still gracing his features. He blinks again and again, finally fully comprehending the situation. His eyes widen as his lips part.
"Ah...yes?" he whispers, rubbing his eyes to rid himself of lingering sleepiness.
"I forgot to tell you that yesterday I was out with my mixer and we saw a duck on the runway having metal teeth." You can tell that the story has stumped him for a few seconds. He blinks, seemingly trying to process what you just said.
Though he knows the words make sense separately, all together they're a rather peculiar combination. He tilts his head, his brow furrowing.
"That's...a bit strange, no? Was it a normal duck aside from its odd teeth?" "Yeah!" His mouth quirks up. You can see a glimmer of amusement flit across his features as he chuckles. "A duck with metal teeth it was then, cool i guess." he says as he tries to form a picture of it in his mind. The concept of an otherwise-normal duck sporting metal teeth would definitely be a curious sight.
He lets out a soft snicker, clearly entertained by the absurd image. "Now," he yawns, "c'mere and sleep with me now, kay?" he mumbles tiredly and pulls you closer by your hips, pressing you against his body.
Cater
Cater's eyes open slowly, as if he was only half asleep. When he sees you, his eyes widen a bit and he tries to focus. His expression is soft and a bit hazy, but he seems to recognize you immediately. When he sees you, you notice a wave of tender affection flood his body as you hear him take in a deep breath before he lets out a quiet sigh. "Whatisitbaby..." he slurrs his words together.
"I baked a broom for you and decorated it with car keys for your happy easter celebration on Christmas!" Cater blinks a few times, before he slowly lifts his head and blinks slowly. He seems a bit confused about your statement, how can someone not. He is too drowsy to respond just yet, so he merely smiles goofly at you gently and lets out a small yawn. His eyelids slowly start to close again, but he seems very content to just sit here with you.
Cater seems to be drifting off sitting, so you decide to let him return to sleep. His breathing grows heavier the moment his back hits the bed again, but you can still see his chest rise and fall softly as his body adjusts to a deeper slumber.
His face rests against your chest, but before he can fully fall back asleep again he slurrs a few words for you. "Youcantellmeallaboutitinthemornin'kaykaybaby?"
"Kay Kay, baby" you softly laugh and kiss his forehead.
Ace
Ace’s breathing pauses for a moment as he remains partially asleep. His eyelids flutter and his eyes remain closed, but he responds nonetheless. "Fuck off Juice...lemme sleep..."
"....bro youre in my room no blueberry juice here-" you deadpan. Ace raises his head, mouth open with a bit of droll running out. He blinks slowly, left eye earlier than the right, and looks drowsy at you. "Right....what's the matter babe?" He drops his head face down in the pillow again after he used all his energy to answer you. "So, yesterday when i wanted to visit the moon i accident took the wrong worm and we ended in the bushes where shoes grow." Ace laughs softly into the pillow and shakes his head at the absurdity of it all. “Ah, yes…I remember. Cool story babe.......now lemme sleep"
Before you can even react Ace wraps his arms cautiously around you and pulls beside him as he lays on his stomach. "You're one crazy bitch...fuck, i love you." He mumbles into the pillow again, before turning to face you and pull you closer into his chest. Ace lovingly kissed your forhead before stroking your hair and slowly falling asleep again.
Deuce
A quiet moan escapes Deuce’s lips, and he begins to stir. He opens his eyes and sits up— you can see that he is still half-asleep, blinking slowly and lazily at the ceiling. “Wha-...ar...are you hurt or somethin'?” he says in a gentle, hoarse whisper.
Your gentle touch on his shoulder has woken him from his rest, and yet he doesn't seem annoyed by it; quite the opposite, in fact.
"No, no I'm not hurt. But i just saw a flying console screaming for pudding outside our shower." "Pudding?" Deuce repeats the word curiously, blinking as he wipes his nose and sniffs tiredly. Your tone seems to suggest that he should find the word familiar, but the foest year seems genuinely clueless as to what you're talking about. He gives you a baffled expression, but you can tell that he's still not quite himself.
If there are any flying consoles out there, they aren't his concern. "Pudding... flying consoles..." he mumbles. "Baby, you want some pudding...?" He ask tiredly, looking over at clock on the wall, luckly the moonlight lets him see the time. "At..." he squint his eyes, "8 am?"...3 am but you don't want to burst his bubble just yet.
"I can wait till 8 am, no biggie" you say, smiling at how concerned but also confused he is. Although hes tired he still tries to be a good boyfriend for you. "M'kay...g'night..."...out like a light.
Leona
"Hmm" Leona groans. His hands trail up and down beside him lookung for your body to pull you closer against his body. But he didn't found you, instead you were sitting up. "Herbivore,...c'mere already."
He's still slightly groggy from sleep. Its common knowledge, waking Leona Kingscholar up is an unofficial crime. And now you even left his arms, the audacity. Good thing hes way to tired at 2am.
"I was looking for my teapot but instead found a dancing glass of ice tea waiting at the traffic light to turn into a tulip." "Ah... what?" Leona murmurs, slowly shifting upward. His gaze is still half-lidded by sleep; his eyes have yet to come back into focus.
He blinks at you a couple of times, before finally rubbing his eyes and frowning. Leona looks somewhat annoyed. "What nonsense are you saying?" He blinks some more, his voice still rough with sleepiness. "I...I love you come back and sleep." And since you didn't immediately react to him he growls back a, "Now."
Ruggie
Ruggie stirs at your voice, ears laying flat and lazy against his head. He opens his eyes slowly and looks at you with half lidded, sleepy eyes. "Mmm...is it morning already?" he asks quietly. "No." You smile gently at him and kiss his cheek. He smiles dopey and falls back against the pillows. "But...when I tried to read the picture about the story of the bear who went jogging in the clouds, i got confused."
Ruggie is just as confused. But smiles slightly as he props himself up in bed. He rubs his eyes, his expression one of amusement layered with tiredness.
"Ya know..., you really need to stop askin' me to help you with your homework,” he mumbles. "Huh?" "...Huh?" "....oh-" "yeah?..." Ruggie didn't know what he said, neither did he knows what he actually understood. And neither did you. You both just blink at each other looking confused, before he drops down into the pillows again and holds his arms out for you. "Come back and cuddle...ya silly little minx"
Jack
His ears twitch at the sound of your voice, and his eyes dart open in a sharp flutter. Blinking away the lingering sleep from his eyes, the world comes into focus.
When he realizes that its only you in front of him, he relaxes. "Are you not feeling well?" He's definitely not wide awake but isn't half asleep either. He quickly sits up too and puts his hand on your cheek, caressing your skin with his thumb as he looks at you worried. That would make you melt under normal circumstances, but you had other plans this night. "I was attacked by a wild blueberry and it wanted to read my eyelashes off my nails."
Jack blinks. His thumb stops moving as he is processing your words slowly. "... You're... you're..." He trails off at the nonsensicality of the sentence. The words don't register, and he looks at you with confusion. His brow furrows.
"What?"
You can't help but giggle. "Alright...time for you to get some sleep, hm?" Jack sounds exhausting, from being sleepy and from you. He stroke your cheek lovingly one last time, before you cave in and lay back into bed. "Good girl...", sudden tiredness came over Jack and he lays back beside you, pulling you against his chest.
Azul
The voice breaks him from his slumber. He flinches in surprise, waking from a deep sleep. His lavender eyes shoot open. They look at you with a certain amount of fright — until they register your face, in the darkness of your bedroom.
"Pearl?" His voice is a whisper— husky with sleep, but soft all the same. "If a snail flys into a tree, does it turn pink or will it eat chips?" You immediately hit him with your nonsense, no mercy. Azul stares at you in utter confusion. His face is one of uncertainty, and a touch of amusement as he tries to make sense of your question.
He settles on a response, but is not entirely confident in its truth. "I do not know, Pearl." He murmurs. "But what i know is that you should be asleep." You know he's right, but you also just wanted to have some fun. Azul gently pulls you back against his chest. He smiles at you warmly as he wraps your body in his arms.
He presses his lips to the top of your head. His hands come up to your hair, fingers threading through yours and gently stroking you, brushing them down your back to soothe your weary bones. "We can...discuss this tomorrow..." You just nod, snuggling up to him. Teasing him didn't work, but at least you got his affection.
Jade
Jade always sleeps lightly, so the tiny call of his name immediately wakes him. "Hmmm…" his voice is barely above a whisper as he wakes. He reaches out for you, his movements gentle, his eyes searching in the darkness for your body. "Mm...Guppy?"
"Do teeth grown on walls when they are covered in amnesia?"
The question catches Jade by surprise, his brow furrowed as he contemplates your words. He opens his mouth to speak, then closes it again, his brow now a full-on frown as he tries to formulate an answer.
"No?" he says slowly, voice sounding like a question rather than an assertion. He furrows his brow even further, brows meeting in the middle of his forehead. "...You know...there are situations where i feel like Floyd rubbed off on you..." he says. "Ey-!" Jade lets out a tired chuckle before pulling you back against his chest again. "My little guppy...so dumb sometimes, hm?"
Floyd
His pale eyes snap open as soon as he recognizes your voice. "Shrimpyyy," he whines quietly, his voice quivering in his surprise from being pulled from his slumber. "Why'd wake meee?" he mumbles and pulls you closer and tighter against his body, at this point youre used to it. "Do ghosts twerk when you play them ladders and earth?"
As odd a question as it was (Floyd is too), he doesn't even flinch. Instead, he takes a moment to process it before nodding, his lips curling into a smile as he answers, "Of course! Everyone knows ghosts like to twerk." Floyd just starts to giggle in delight, wiggling you around happily, "Aww shrimpy i love you! You're so silly!" He gave you one last kiss on your head before his smile drops, "But we gotta sleep now, so you better behave and don't wake me up again." Though he is still a little unsteady from being woken up so suddenly, his strength still remains in his embrace. From the way he holds you, you can feel how much he loves you. He wants you close. He wants to keep you with him. Forever even.
Kalim
His brows furrow as his eyes continue to stay shut. But your voice was enough to rouse him.
"Hmm?" his lips part, but his voice is still hoarse with sleep, and he doesn't open his eyes yet. Before he can open them or even get remotely more awake, you attack him immediately. "How do i know if a bunny catches a goldfish in a storm of wandering suns?" His brows furrow even further as his head shifts toward your direction. That question did nothing to make any kind of sense to him.
"H-Huh?" he asks warily, his eyes slowly opening just as his brows are un-furrowing. "I- Um." He looks around, his thoughts scattered.
"Lemme ask Jamil real quick...Ja-!" "No-!" Befode he can wake up the poor exhausted second year who just got into bed, you shut Kalim with your hand against his mouth. "Shhh-" He keeps mumbling against your hand, before he choses to gently kiss the inside of your hand. "Tschul...pwease led me go" "Huh?" You raise your hand, "I said, Jewel, please let me go-!" Kalims arms wrap around you in an instant. He buries his face into your shoulder, seeking the warmth of your arms. All of the tension in his body seems to ease at once, replaced by the comfort that he feels when he is in your presence.
He nuzzles his head into your shoulder, the touch being all that he needs for him to be at peace. "Ahhh, I'm wide awake now..."
Jamil
His head tilts a little as the sound of your voice reaches his ears. His head turns in your direction. His breathing is shallow and steady, his eyes closed.
"Mm? What now?..." "Do dogs cry rainbows when they breath daisies on a sunday bell?" There's a moment of silence as your question registers in Jamils mind. The wheels are turning, and you can tell he's processing it.
Finally, he answers, "No, my love. Dogs cannot cry rainbows when they breathe daisies on a Sunday bell....now good night." "Oh-" you were taken aback by how fast and serious he answers. Probably used to it from Kalim. It takes him a moment to realize he should explain his answer. "Dogs are not... capable of...crying rainbows and certainly not when they breathe daisies on a Sunday bell. The latter is...quite nonsensical, actually." A hint of a smile tugs at his mouth, but the expression does not fully reach his lips, "As expected from you "
He waits, allowing a moment to pass to see if you have a response. "Good night Jamil...." "Good night."
Vil
(Bro would honestly kill you but---lets forget about that now-)
His eyes flutter open as he removes his sleeping mask.They blink slowly, fighting off the haze of sleep. And then, they fix on you.
"Yes?" He whispers. Vil is scared you might be in pain, or a different problem flared up. But instead you hit him with this nonsense.
"If a goose loves an ogre, do they drink pebbles in the moonlight?" His mind reels from this seemingly nonsensical question. His body is tense as a whip, his heart pounding in his chest. This feels like a trap, but his mind scrambles to find a response.
He opens his mouth, then stops. He tilts his head, then opens his mouth once more, stopping. He blinks, staring at you.
Then, his lips curl to a smile. "Yes they do," he affirms with complete certainty. "They drink pebbles in the moonlight. And you know what else they do?" "No?" God bless your innocence in this moment, "They never wake up one another when they have their beauty sleep and don't ask them stupid questions." "Oh-..."
Rook
The sound of your voice, however small and soft, stirs Rook from his "slumber". Rook is never truly asleep, a good hunter never rests. He cracks open his eyes, and his lips form a smile and part to form a word.
"Yes?" he excitingly says, though the word, meant hushed and quite, was more loud than expected. "Yesterday I saw a sheep kissing a well and singing it a waterfall because it couldn’t catch a pizza." Without missing a beat he answers, "What a marvelous story mon ange! Did you come up with it yourself?" You nod proudly, not using one braincell to come up with words in the first place is and accomplishment! "Oh, mon ange, would you tell me more about this loving relationship between this talented sheep and its well-lover?"
Rook responds by wrapping his arms tightly around you. He presses his body close to yours, his fingers kneading at you. His touch is gentle but firm. Time seems to slow down as you two press even closer against one another, and you come up with more nonsense to entertain him. The world fades away to oblivion as thoughts of every day concerns slip away and you two embrace the warm bliss of that moment.
Rook doesn't say anything. He only smiles with pure adoration at you and listens to every single word. He just holds you, his every atom focused on being near you. Like always.
Epel
"Epel, Epel, Epel, Epel, Ep-" said guy blinks a few times in an effort to fully awaken as he hears you call his name multiple times. He squints his eyes as he adjusts to the full moon lighting of his bedroom.
He blinks again, rubbing the weariness out of his eyes. "Yeah?" he mumbles softly, his voice still sluggish with sleep. "I just saw an owl wearing a hoddie and stealing a womans wig while the sky was skittles." Epel blinks a few times, trying to process the words you just conveyed. He opens his eyes wider and shakes his head.
"Sounds like you had one wild dream," he whispers as gently as possible, "But at least it wasn't a nightmare so...ya should probably go back to sleep now." Epel's voice is a murmur as he slowly leans down to kiss the top of your head. His cheek brushes against your hair as he nuzzles into the softness, and he takes a deep breath.
His gaze lingers on your face, studying your features as he pulls back slowly. "I'll watch over you so you won't have any strange dreams..."
Idia
The sound of your voice cracks through his mind, jolting him to attention. Idia jolts up from sleep, startled. The sight of you makes his heart skip a beat.
He blinks his eyes open, staring back at you for a moment as he reorients himself. His breathing is quick and shallow, but he steadies himself. "Is-Is something wrong?!" He sounds genuinely scared and worried for you, you almost feel bad about what you're gonna do. "Horses eat frames so they can fly faster to the basement of the Texas curtains."
"Cool" Idia says softly, and his eyes squint. He tilts his head, clearly not tracking your train of thought. His body is tense, his mind dense, on edge as he attempts to make sense of what you just said. "Babe...explain," Idia says, his voice a near whisper. He narrows his eyes, concentrating on your words.
His lips purse for a moment, and he shakes his head slightly. "Can't make sense...might call Ortho..."
Malleus
His chest freezes with a sharp inhale, and he opens his eyes. His heart pounds in his throat, a nervous flutter. "Yes!? Love? I'm here," he says, his voice hoarse from a few hours of undisturbed slumber.
He blinks a few times, rubbing his eyes as he looks up to you, sitting in bed. He wants to speak, but the words can't leave because you beat him to it.
"2 birds were fighting over a brush because it tastes like fries on a Tuesday afternoon." His eyes narrow as he tries to process what you just said. "Tastes...like... fries? on a... Tuesday?"
Confusion clouds his expression, and he cocks his head slightly to the side. Your lack of response only cements his uncertainty. Was that a question? A question you expect him to answer, or was it a joke?
His frown deepens and he clears his throat, "The old man once told me abouta thing called Hoocus Poocus (my stupid idea of google)" he says slowly, raising from bed and groaning like and old man with back problems before he walks over to his phone on his desk. "Maybe this can help...my love?...Do you recall how I alive this device?"
Lilia
The snore halts, the sudden outburst of sound startling him out of his sleep. He wakes up like a mother, with a loud gasp. His eyes shoot open as he bolts upright, and he stares straight at you with an anxious expression on his face. "Has the time finally come?" "W-What time?" "Where i may or may not have left a cake in the oven and it caught fire." He says it with such ease...like he did leave a cake in the oven to burn down the entire dorm.
"No-!....I just wanted to know if you can cactus me a cucumber." He stares at you blankly. Your request takes a few seconds before registering in his mind. A brief flicker of concern crosses his face, but it is fleeting as he realizes you are being facetious. Oh, how much he loves your stupid ass.
He lets out a small laugh. "I'll cactus you a cucumber tomorrow, dearest."
Silver
He is so used on your voice that even in his slumber, your words reach his core. When you call out to him, his breathing grows shallow and his eyelids begin to flutter a bit. His lips twitch again, and he turns his head slightly.
"Ahh...whatisit..." "I slept on a dentist with a horn and he fixed my hair with his light switch." Silver's eyes snap open at your words. You've caught him off-guard yet again. He stares at you for a long moment before he finally speaks.
"You slept...on a dentist..?" He's still half-asleep, his voice quiet and hoarse. "Princess, did you cheat on me?" A quiet, breathy laugh escapes his lips for a split second. Your words are nonsense, and he knows it.
He swallows down another laugh, biting his tongue in an attempt to stifle it as he sees your horrified face. "Shut up..." you mumble, why does no teasing ever work with him?
Sebek
"I'M AWAKE AND READY-!," Sebek is startled awake, sitting up quickly. His eyes open with an instant, and he glances around, his gaze settling on you. "HUMAN? YOU AWOKE ME BECAUSE SAVANACLAW FINALLY ATTACKED DIASOMNIA TO KIDNAPP LORD MALLEUS, RIGHT?!"
"......no but, a egg just gave birth to a basball and now his golf wife is mad."
Sebek blinks for a moment, his brain trying to comprehend your bizarre statement. His face twists, you can't tell if its anger or regret. Regret for ever letting himself catch feelings for you. You never heard him being so silent, cause even in his sleep hes loud...he snores.
"...Human?" "Yes?" "I will escort you back to ramshackle so you can spend the rest of the night in your dorm."
"Nooo-!" "Yes-ah-ey-let go of me-!" He gasps at the sudden embrace, and he stiffens as a flood of emotions rush through his heart. His arms hang loosely at his sides as he is swept into your warm embrace. There is no resisting it. No matter how much he trys, he will always love you no matter what.
He feels like he's going to melt.
2K notes · View notes
cozage · 8 months
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2k followers lets goooo!!! (Proud follower hereee!!!) And ive been wanting to request smth from you for a while now and i think this is the perfect opportunity !! Can u create some hesdcanons for sabo, law, luffy, zoro, and sanji (maybe shanks too?) where the reader wants to leave the crew/organization their in coz of smth from their past, making them have to? They could've already left, about to leave quietly, betrayed them unwillingly etc!!! Do your thing !
^ - ^
Angst to comfort plsss my heart cannot take anymore heartbreaks huhuhu
A/N: just did the captains for now :)
Characters: gn reader x Sabo, Law, Luffy, Shanks Total word count: 1.2k
Blackmail
Sabo
You were gone when Sabo woke up. No note, nothing. But you had knocked out some security guards in your escape off the island. So Sabo set off, trying to figure out where you had gone. He would go to the ends of the earth to find you again if he had to. 
Some people called it denial. Some called it insanity. Some called it pitiful. He didn’t care. He had been called all those things before.
But he knew you. He knew that you wouldn’t betray him. Not like that. He refused to believe everything you two shared wasn’t just an act. 
He chased you for weeks, following your tracks and just barely missing you at several encounters.
He was so close, and he couldn’t help but feel like you were leaving him a trail. You knew how to disappear. The fact that he could find you meant you wanted to be found. 
When he finally found you, curled up in a bed with shackles around your arms as you slept, he knew you were doing everything against your will. The two men who were guarding you were easy enough to take care of, and he woke you up gently. 
“We’re going home,” he whispered, unlocking your cuffs. 
When you realized it was him, you began sobbing, apologizing for all the trouble you had caused. But he refused to accept your apologize-you owed him nothing of the sort. You were safe now, that’s what mattered. 
After you return home and he’s certain you’re safe, he sets off to find the mastermind behind the whole blackmailing situation. He’ll never let anyone ever hurt you again, and those people need to be taught a lesson. 
Law
Your plan was to slip out quietly, in the dead of night. You had snuck sleeping pills into everyone’s drinks, and you were certain they would be out until morning. 
So your heart dropped when the light flicked on as you were stealthing through Law’s office to take your leave. 
“Y/N,” Law’s voice was steady and alert. “Where are you going?”
“I’m leaving.” You refused to look at him. He’d be able to see through you in an instant.
“Is that why you attempted to drug me?” he asked, and you silently cursed yourself. Of course he would notice. “This isn’t like you.”
“You don’t know anything about me,” you said through gritted teeth. “Stay out of it.”
“I know you enough to realize your hands are clenched and your entire body is tight, which means you’re doing something you don’t want to do. I also know you won’t look at me when you’re lying, so you’re obviously hiding something.”
“Just stay out of it, Law.” You wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if he got hurt.
He suddenly shambled in front of you, and you couldn’t hide your tear-filled eyes anymore. He stared down at you, slightly disappointed in your lack of trust in him.
“We can figure this out together,” he reminded you. “You’re not alone. And we’re stronger together than we are apart.”
You let out a sob and collapsed into his chest, thankful for his endless love and acceptance, even when you tried to push him away. 
Luffy
Luffy didn’t understand what you meant by “leaving the crew”. Especially since you wrote it on a note.
“We’re all in agreement, right?” he asked his crew. “Y/N needs our help. So we’re going to help.”
Everyone was in instant agreement. A goodbye note wasn’t like you. Even if you did want to leave, they all deserved more than a note. 
Luffy made it his top priority to find you. They scoured the island, searching for hours. But nobody found you.
The next day, Luffy was the first one awake, and he was on the island before Sanji could even make breakfast. He was searching, determined to find you. 
When he finally rounded a corner and made eye contact with you, your eyes widened. “Leave me alone!” you hissed, and then you took off running.
He easily chased after you and tackled you to the ground. “You’re not leaving!” he yelled, pinning your arms to the ground. “Not like that!”
“Luffy!” you hissed. You both needed to be quiet, or he would be seen. “Please go! Just leave.”
“Haven’t you learned?” he asked, his voice breaking. “We’re a family. We solve problems together. You don’t leave notes saying goodbye. Don’t we mean anything to you? Don’t I?”
His big, sad eyes finally made you break down, explaining everything to him and how you couldn’t sail with him due to a problem you had on the island. 
Needless to say, Luffy fixed that problem immediately and had already forgotten about it all by the time the two of you got back to the ship. 
Shanks
“That’s a lot of supplies for a quick run to port.” Shanks’s joking tone was present, but you could hear that his voice held something else.
“Things to sell,” you replied smoothly. If you could get off the boat and away from the crew, then at least they wouldn’t be hurt in the process.
Shanks hummed, clearly not believing you. “Strange of you to sell your most prized possessions, yet leave the emeralds and diamonds we picked up from that other ship.”
“Shanks-”
“Why don’t you tell me what’s really going on.”
You thought about running, but a glimmer from the crow’s nest told you that Yasopp was watching closely. Time to switch to Plan B. “I’m leaving.”
You could feel Shank’s gaze on you, his heart breaking at your words. 
“I don’t like it here anymore,” you said, trying to keep your wits about you. “It’s suffocating. I can’t stand it.” You turned to look at him, mustering all the hatred you could. “I can’t stand any of you.”
You could see Shanks wrestling with your words, trying to decipher truth from lie. You had an excellent poker face, but unfortunately, he knew that as well. 
“Kiss me, then.” Shanks walked toward you, and you stiffened at the thought. “You may be able to lie with your words, but your lips don’t lie when they’re pressed against mine. So let’s see if you’re telling the truth.”
“I never want to kiss you aga-” His lips crashed into yours, cutting your words off. 
You tried to pull away, but you couldn’t. Your body simply wouldn’t let you. After a few moments, he pulled away, and you let out a soft whine in protest. 
Shanks grinned, the answer to his question plain as day. He was relieved to know you didn’t actually hate him, but now there was an actual problem to be solved. 
But he didn’t blame you, he blamed whoever put you in this situation. And surely they would pay.
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hellfire--cult · 9 months
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Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader {Dark}
Part 2: Run, Rabbit, Run {Steddie x Reader}
WC: 13.1 k
⚠️ +18 MDNI, Slightly dark fic due to wickedness of characters, chasing kink, mentions of bones breaking, tendons splitting, dark woods, blood, knife play, explicit sexual scenes, many forms of Paraphilia described inside the story, owning kink, breeding kink, obsession.
Plot: Once a year, the Haunting Ground event takes place, where the prize is a White Rabbit. This year, the head of The Black Dragons decides to finally join the trial, and claim what is rightfully his. No matter who he has to take down for it.
Author's note: Well shit, I just... wanted to write something out of my comfort zone, and well... this happened. If I missed any warnings please say so, but I hope you enjoy this, and if you don't like any of the warnings above, please, don't read. There isn't any gore at all, js. Also, I didn't proofread this. Please SEE THIS ART of how Eddie ACTUALLY looks in this story. Can't thank Corpse enough for it!
You can always support me by hitting the reblog button with tags, and I always enjoy reading your comments!
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BUNNY, BUNNY, BUNNY
The rules are simple:
1- You must keep running, only hide when threatened.
2- You can hurt your opponent, make them unable to keep moving, but you cannot kill them.
3- No water and no food will be provided.
4- No weapons except makeshift ones you may create with natural materials you find.
5- The chase ends once everyone has tapped out of it or one person was chosen.
6- Medical care will take out injured opponents, as well as waiting outside every exit in the woods.
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He looked all around him in the big wide center of the room, a ball room. There was a big buffet, serving various kinds of foods to fill a whole army, as well as drinks, non alcoholic, were being served around. He scanned all around him, looking at the various masks everyone wore.
A wolf.
A fox.
A blank face.
A goat.
A clown.
There were many varieties, many kinds but mostly were in animal masks. Coming to this kind of event was not something he ever thought of doing, at least not by his own accord. But here he was, in a demon mask, a black skull that covered half of his face, with its black horns going up. He stood out, definitely stood out, and he noticed by all the faces turning towards him. 
He was recognizable, his dark hair tied in a bun, his lips under the top sharp teeth of the skull mask, his eyes showing in the holes of the eye sockets, and then, unlike anyone else in the room, he was only wearing a blazer over his torso, leaving his skin exposed. People looked at him as if he were insane for doing this stunt, others thought he was cocky for trying to think he had a chance dressed like that, but others were simply scared of him.
Tonight, his name was Demon.
He glanced around once more to see the many different people he clearly recognized. Sons of rich families, looking for some fun, for some sense of victory that they can just get with daddy’s money. He also recognized the rings of various people that were only hired to enter this competition and win the prize for their boss. And then, there was him. The only Mafia Boss entering the competition, and that’s why everyone was looking at him.
Mafia bosses don’t often do the dirty work unless it’s a very important client, business or victim. In this case, there was a treasure he wanted, something he had been intrigued by ever since it was mentioned to him, and all he had to do was step over everyone else that was standing in this room with him. 
There might be forty people, all waiting for the presentation to finally start. He knew the time to go out was coming close, so they should do it any time soon. A man stood next to him, and he immediately recognized his voice. Carver Jr. Son of the CEO of Kirasoft. Inc. 
“I am telling you, this year she is getting caught, man.” He hears him say to the other guy next to him, who he didn’t recognize, but probably from the same rich kind of family.
“Can’t believe it’s been the same White Rabbit for three years… How did she manage to do it?”
The lights dimmed and he looked up at the ceiling, knowing there was a specific light that was above him, making him visible even in the dim room. He smirked and looked back down towards the stairs that lead down to the ballroom. He sees the man, the man who hosts this event, the man who gets the money of every single person that pays to participate. 
“Welcome to the annual Haunting Ground night.” Claps were heard around Demon, but his hands were kept inside his front pockets as he waited for the man to continue his stupid speech. “Every year we host this marvelous game, in which there is a prize to be won, a marvelous prize.”
The snicker in the man’s face made Demon’s blood boil, as his hands fisted in his pockets. The need to murder him, the need to see his flesh gush out as he talked was increasing, each second it passed. He looked around again, seeing all the women, the men, the people with masks, smiling with confidence towards the stage. 
“Hearing the rules for a third time is quite annoying.” Demon hears a woman talk next to him to another contestant. She had a deer mask on, her whole face covered so he didn’t know who she was, but it didn’t matter, none of the people inside the room mattered, the only one that did was the person in all white that was going to appear at the top of the stairs. 
And no one, absolutely no one, was getting her except him.
“The rules, you all know about them, but I want to remind you about the emergency beeper you all will have in your pocket. If endangered, if in extreme pain, or you just want to tap out of the contest, you press it, and the emergency team will know your location and come get you.” The man says and Demon only rolled his eyes to the sky, knowing he won’t be using it, but actually making other people use it.
The fact that he couldn’t bring any weapons irked him. He always thought things like this would end in blood baths, but they were being pretty humane about this. Yet, he wanted to murder every single person in this room at the moment, because how dare they even try to steal her away from him? Not that he didn’t kill a few past contestants from the past two years. He heard from the men that participated, that some had grabbed the White Rabbit, just by an inch, but a scratch here and there was done to her skin.
Of course he wasn’t going to let them go unharmed for that.
“If you endanger someone to the point of killing them, you will be disqualified and brought to authorities.” Demon scoffed at that. He has the police wrapped around his finger, and there is nothing anyone can do about it, but he will keep his hands to himself, as much as he can, just so he wouldn’t be disqualified from this. 
He could hear the whispers surrounding him, and also knew that they were about him. He was the most dangerous person amongst the people, and if anyone had a gram of brain cells, they would let him get the prize. But of course, he knows many will try to defeat him, try to throw him to the ground, hurt him, because there are also people from families he had destroyed during the years, just like his uncle did in the past. 
Being the nephew of one of the biggest Mafia bosses didn’t mean anything, you weren’t automatically feared or respected just for being a direct link, a family member. You were respected when you were entrusted with the men, the organization and the operations at such a young age, and even more so, when you are not merciful at all, except when needed to. 
Demon never hurt women or children, and the only time he had to kill a woman was because she had backstabbed his uncle, almost to the point of killing him. She was his right hand, but all this time, even if killing for him, she was planning on taking over him, completely over stepping on Demon. He found her taking out her gun when they were in a transaction between crews, and got her in time before she could actually take it out. His uncle fought that she was protecting him, but Demon saw how she was looking at the back of his uncle’s head, right as she got her hand inside her coat. 
She was operating for the other crew they were doing a transaction with.
So of course, Demon immediately took care of it, eliminating her in front of her brother, the other boss that was sitting in front of his uncle, just so that he knows they are not to mess with. And Demon did all that, at the mere age of 17. Now, at 28 years old, he was a man to be feared, respected by many, and to never try to backstab him, in any sort of form or way. 
But three years ago, he got fixated on something, on someone, when he visited the house of the Red Flies, the second most known Mafia family in the eastern states. He knew he was obsessed, he knew that he shouldn’t even try to get her, but he was immediately swept by her presence, by her voice, by her eyes, in a way no one had made him feel before. This only happened when he locked eyes with her, a small smile appearing on her face, and he knew, he immediately knew, that she was meant to be his.
She was going to be his, no matter the cost.
“Everyone, I present to you, the White Rabbit.” 
And there she was, at the top of the staircase, with a spotlight over her head, the white rabbit mask covering half her face, with the ears going up to the ceiling. She was wearing a white short dress that stuck to the body but was loose at the end. Her lips were drawn into a thin line, as everyone was clapping at her, in awe, with desire in their eyes as well as ambition and greediness. 
The reason why everyone wanted the White Rabbit was simple. They were from a high, a very high association, be it a company or a mafia gang, but they wanted out of that. The White Rabbit holds the power of bribery towards bosses, as well as threats and blackmail. More likely daughters and sons that want to destroy their own lineage. 
Many people here knew who the White Rabbit was, but just by name, even if three years had passed. She was never caught, and she never gave herself to anyone because that can also be done. The White Rabbit can willingly choose who to go with if they so desire. And that’s why Demon was with a smile to his face, his jacket still open as he looked at the White Rabbit. She was scanning the room, looking at all the contestants and then, her eyes landed on a torso, her eyes hazing over as she kept staring at his chest.
You see, Demon also possessed that knowledge, and of course, he studied her, knowing more than her name. Over the last three years he had sent his own men to participate in the trial, but with no intention of winning but just to see what the participants did and how she moved in the woods. 
Demon knew her name, how she looked like, the sound of her voice, who her father was, and also, he knows the things she likes, the things she desires, the things that make her tremble, and that’s why he is exposing his torso, and as she kept her eyes on him, a small grin appearing on her face, her tongue licking her bottom lip even slightly as her eyes clouded with pure lust, her mouth watering just at the pure sight of his tattooed chest and even more when he suddenly takes his tongue out, running his tongue piercing all over his top lip.
Stigmatophilia: Sexual Arousal for body modifications, such as piercings or tattoos.
“Always looking like a diamond in the rough.” He heard Carver say, almost a mumble, and Demon’s blood was boiling already. How dare he look at her? How dare he even think he has a chance? How dare he touch or imagine touching something that was his? How fucking dare he even comment on his prize? 
“We all know how this goes. The White Rabbit will have an upper hand of five minutes to infiltrate the woods. Do not, by any means, hurt the White Rabbit. If the White Rabbit is caught, the decision to go with that person for a limited time, or to be completely owned, is up to them.” Demon smirked at those words. There is a contract the White Rabbit has to sign before submitting themselves as the prey. If they decide they want to do a temporary ownership of their body, then the contract is not signed by the captor. But if they do decide for a complete ownership of body and soul, the contract will be signed by both parties, kind of like a marital contract.
This was all in the Mafia organization of course, it’s not legal, but it is something to be respected in between the groups and companies. Demon does not like this idea, because no person should be owned, no person should be held like an animal, no person should be treated like an object. But in the White Rabbit’s eyes, he saw that longing, he saw the need of belonging to someone, of being owned. 
And he was more than happy to oblige.
“Do you think this year is the year? Will she get caught?” He heard the woman next to him, and for the first time in the night, he finally talked, with a gruff voice coming out of his lips.
“She will.”
The people around him all turned with widened eyes, shocked faces behind their masks, as whispers erupted all around them. He was still locking eyes with the White Rabbit, whose smile was still on her lips, almost a snicker, a wicked grin, and he couldn’t wait to start running, he couldn’t wait to start chasing, his body was already trembling at the need of wanting to earn his prize.
“No more food, no more water. The trial starts now… Rabbit… Run.” The host finally said and Demon saw how the light over her head turned off, and in two seconds it lit up again, only for her to be gone. “Get ready and line up to the edge of the woods.”
At his queue everyone started heading out of the ballroom, but Demon just walked, calmly, hands still in his blazer pockets, heading towards the big doors and finally being hit with the wind of the night, the sound of the leaves ruffling all around and the trees merging up in front of him, a sea of trunks and bushes that he will have to run through. 
He stood next to Carver, who was already in a stance of pounce, waiting for the sound of the gun so they could all start running. Demon slowly took off his blazer, throwing it in the ground, revealing his completely tattooed torso, with many ink designs such as dragons, or skulls, or demons, and they go all over his arms and back as well. There are some patches of untouched skin, but overall, he is completely covered in them. 
The many people that stood next to him on each side were looking at him, gulping, except for Carver who simply rolled his eyes at him. Demon looked up at the full moon that was going to help him look through the deep woods, the light that he knew how to follow to keep a steady pace, and the shadows that would help him knock down any person that might come in his way. 
After a minute, he saw the man, the host, walking up on the balcony of the building, his silhouette shining with the moonlight as he raised the flare gun up. Demon took a deep breath in from his nose, getting his hair up in a low ponytail, calmly, as his chest rose and fell with his breaths. His eyes gazed back to the woods, a small grin appearing on his face as he fixed the rings that were on his right hand.
BANG.
His fist immediately collided with Carver’s Jaw, sending him backwards, and the only thing that could be heard was the crack of teeth and a gurgled grunt as he fell to the floor. He quickly turned to grab onto the ponytail of the woman that had screamed at the vicious act, the woman with the deer mask on, pulling her back towards his chest. He wrapped his right hand over the woman’s neck and her hands immediately flew to his forearm, trying to break free.
“Let ME GO!” She yelled with a choke and he scoffed with a roll of his eyes when he raised his left hand up, pressing it at the back of her hand to bend it forward and then with his right arm he started pressing onto the sides of her neck to start cutting her blood flow towards her brain. 
Her body started to go limp and when he felt her arms fall from him, he instantly let go of her, letting her fall to the ground, completely unconscious. He doesn’t hurt women. It will take more time if he does this trick every single time, but even if they try to go after him, he won’t hurt them. Many had already taken off, but some, a very few, stayed to look at what he’s done. 
One by one, they started backing up back into the house as they saw Carver’s mouth going slack as he tried to talk, making Demon turn to throw a wicked grin his way. The blonde man took the beeper out of his pocket and groaned as he pressed the button to finally call assistance. Once Demon heard the beep, he took off running into the woods. 
His blood was pumping with adrenaline, his breathing steady as he rushed by the trees, jumping over boulders, hearing some screams and passing by some men injuring one another. When he arrived at a cleared up area, he stopped running at the sound of some bushes rustling, right next to him, the crack of a twig catching his attention. 
He instantly jumped forward when he saw the bushes finally moving and a man, a bigger man than he is, jumped out of them and onto him, but missed thanks to Demon's premeditated step. The big man steadied himself, wearing a bear mask as he glared at him, a sly smirk on his lips. 
“Well, well, well… Didn’t think the Boss of the Black Dragon would be in a thing like this. Don’t you have many women to choose from?” The Bear chuckled at his words but Demon only grimaced at them. He thinks The White Rabbit can be compared to any woman? To any person? 
“If you want all your limbs in the same place, you would close that mouth of yours.” Demon threatens but Bear only belly laughs at him, shaking his head.
“It’s just you. You know, your uncle really fucked me over with my company.” At those words, Demon could only roll his eyes, not wanting to waste another second in this mindless conversation.
“You probably didn’t pay up in time, or, if I remember correctly, didn’t you kill your wife?” He remembers the deal. This man, and his wife, were going to share half and half of the credit The Black Dragon crew was giving them. The wife asked for a divorce, which would have made the contract void, and the money had to be returned in its entirety to the organization. She had her half untouched, he didn’t. She was going to be free, he wasn’t. 
So in his anger, he killed her, making it seem like suicide to the legal eye, but to the organizations he was seen as a murderer. Now, seeing him in this trial, wanting to get the White Rabbit, Demon felt his blood burning up in anger, because he wasn’t going to let a man like him get her… He wasn’t going to let a man like him get any other woman or person.
“She killed herself. I made that very clear.” The Bear’s face fell, as he clenched his fists next to his hips. Demon knew what was going to happen, so he fixed the bloody rings on his right hand again, his smile spreading knowing it was Carver’s blood. 
“You won’t get her.” Demon says in a dead tone, which the bigger man only chuckled at, unamused, and he took a step forward, and Demon only cracked his neck once. 
“We’ll see about that.” And the first fist was thrown by The Bear, only to be dodged easily by Demon, moving aside. He raised his leg up and immediately hit the bigger man at the right shin with his combat boot. The Bear groaned loudly, turning his whole body to tackle Demon into the ground, his upper body slamming with Demon’s torso, sending him to the floor with the big man on top of him.
He cursed under his breath as the air in his lungs got knocked out slightly thanks to the impact, feeling a sharp sting on his shoulder, making his eyes go wide and groan in pain, looking at the side. The Bear cheated, a small swiss knife now was on Demon’s shoulder, pressed by the man that was on top of him. 
“I see you’re still playing fucking dirty.” Demon almost but snarls at the man on top of him who only laughed out loud and shook his head at the words.
“You don’t get anything in life if you don’t do it my way. My wife knew that, yet, she decided she wanted to fuck me over.” He was laughing, and Demon’s veins were popping out from the anger, from the rage, from the images of this man’s hands over your body, tracing his knife on your skin until he could bury it into the deepest of your gut if you made a wrong move.
His left hand was free to roam, and he grabbed onto a small boulder that was on the floor, immediately clenching his fingers around it to throw his arm up, swinging it towards the man’s head, making him yell in pain as the rock busted his ear and ripped open the skin on his temple. He fell to the side, holding his side of the head in pain while Demon sat up in one quick movement, taking the swiss knife out of his shoulder and throwing it away. Wasting no time, he lunged himself over the other man’s figure.
He was now on top, having won the wrestling match, or the kid fight he just had, and the man below him yelled for mercy, which made Demon only grin wider and wider, knowing that he was a step closer to his prize. In one swift move he pressed his knee against the man’s thigh, while his hand grabbed onto his calf, pulling it upwards, and he just needed one snap, he can at least make it quick for the guy below him.
SNAP. CRACK.
“MY FUCKING LEG!” The Bear yelled below him, only for Demon to scoff at his cries. He stood up and walked off the wailing man who was already taking out his beeper to call for medical care. Demon grabbed onto the beeper, a glare in his eyes as he looked at the man below him.
“After this, you better hide… Because I will kill you.” He threw the beeper far away from The Bear. He would have to crawl with his broken leg to get it, making that task torturous to say the least. 
“P-Please, spare me– This is just a game–” Demon pressed his foot onto the man’s broken leg, and another yell of pain could be heard through the open field. 
“No. You should have noticed that this is not a game to me, and you should have known that messing with me today would be a very bad choice.” He let go of the man, stepping away. The Bear’s face was stained from the tears of pain he was induced to, but Demon could care less. 
The black haired man immediately took off again, running through the bushes as he heard a few screams and yells of victory. His mentality started spiraling as he felt himself growing impatient by how long this was going to take. If he had to take out every single contestant he was going to end up doing a massacre and that was against the rules.
Because he would kill for The White Rabbit.
He was hearing many beeping sounds around him, some grunts and people that were writhing on the ground in pain as he walked by. So many were with broken bones, some had scratches all over their bodies and that’s when he remembered the wound on his shoulder. He looked at it as he walked, moving his shoulder in circles to see if it caused any damage. He scoffed and chuckled as he noticed he could still move his arm freely even if the wound was open. 
The bastard couldn’t even aim a knife right. He didn’t really deserve to live, not if he is going to threaten death right in the face and expect to come out alive from it. That’s what Demon was. Death. Crossing him meant bargaining with life, and backstabbing him with treason meant instant death. He didn’t do most of the dirty work, only when it’s necessary and when he would get pleasure from it, and that man he just fought, he wasn’t going to be killed by a stranger in his organization. Demon was going to cut his head off himself.
He stopped walking when he heard a rustle, but it wasn’t on any of his sides. He turned his body, scanning all over when he heard it again. He smirked as he put his hands in the front of his pockets, his heart beating into his chest from the adrenaline and from the excitement of getting closer and closer to his objective.
“You should come down from the trees.”
A small giggle could be heard from his back as he slowly turned to finally see the person he wanted most climbing down from a tree. Her white dress flowed with some white shorts underneath, but the white was now smudged with some dirt, and some blood as well. Her white ears moved as she tilted her head at him, scanning him all over, her body rocking on the balls of her feet.
“Your ears are very perceptive.” 
 “You’re just too loud.” He says in a low voice, watching the White Rabbit start moving, circling him, with her hands behind her back, swaying her head from side to side as if humming a song. His head followed her, seeing her bare feet covered in mud as the leaves crunched under them. 
“Hmm… Someone got you.” She says, pointing at the wound on his shoulder, in which he simply shrugs as if to show her that he wasn’t fazed by it.
“By playing dirty.” She hummed again as she looked down at the floor, still circling all around him as if inspecting him, scanning him, and her mouth watered at every single patch of skin she saw inked. She was already imagining what his legs looked like, and she was already trembling with the idea of using her nails to give him new scars.
“Are you here to get me?” She asks him, finally stopping right in front of him, just a few feet away, her hands still behind her back with a grin on her face. He took his hands out of his front pockets, letting them hang on his sides.
“To claim you.” She tilted her head at his voice, her smile widening, creepily so, as her eyes glistened with sudden excitement and adrenaline and Demon knew what was coming, because he had studied the White Rabbit after all.
“You’ll have to catch me first.” And she turned on her heel, and sprinted off into the darkness of the woods, and Demon’s teeth showed as his wicked grin grew, and grew.
Autassassinophilia: Sexual arousal when being in a dangerous situation, such as being chased, or wanted for murder.
His feet started working, running forward to where The White Rabbit went, listening to far cries that were deep into the woods, and he wondered just how many other people were left, not that it mattered, because he already won. He knew he already won when he decided to sign up for this trial. He knew he had won the moment he stepped into the ballroom. He knew he had won when she had smiled at him, right at the top of the marbled stairs.
He stopped running when he came into an empty spot, surrounded by trees, looking all around him. His eyes twitched as he tried to listen to the sounds, knowing now that it was just him and her. He was preying on her as much as she was preying on him. He knew she was circling him, his little rabbit, trying to be sneaky, but a twig was heard from his left side and his feet immediately moved to that sound.
Long strides were taken thanks to his long legs, his belt clinking as he ran, going past the trees once again. He ran in between trunks, jumping over the fallen logs, but his eyes sparkled when he heard a giggle from behind him, making him stop in his tracks, turning around rapidly to see her retreating figure, running away from him. A smirk appeared on his lips. She had run past him and he didn’t notice.
He started running after her, deciding to swerve left, going deep into the woods again, no longer following behind her. She kept running, her breathing completely accelerated, her belly turning with anticipation, with adrenaline, with arousal, with desire. Oh, she wanted him. She had waited, and waited. But his footsteps were no longer heard behind her, making the White Rabbit stop, turning around to try to listen to her surroundings.
He wasn’t following her, did she run too fast? Did he lose sight of her? But she was sure she was hearing him behind her, not even five seconds ago. She took one step, then another, passing by a tree but she stopped her movements again, her eyes widening, goosebumps emerging on her skin as she slowly turned her head to see the figure that was just behind the tree, waiting for her.
“Caught you.” 
Demon immediately pounced on her, grabbing onto her shoulders and tackling her to the ground, a crazed smile on his face as she struggled to get free, but it was already done. He was on top of her, his calves over her thighs to pin her down while his hands were on her biceps now, digging deeply, pushing her onto the ground. She was panting heavily as she opened her eyes to finally see the man that was on top of her.
“Dirty.” She spats and he scoffs, licking inside his bottom lip as she relaxes under his hold. A small smile appeared on her lips, the moonlight shining through the woods, just enough for him to see her. He took one hand away from her bicep, getting hold of the bottom of her mask, pulling it up to finally reveal that beautiful face he got mesmerized with three years ago, at a simple meeting. That face that told him, we’re equal. That face that told him, I will serve you if given the chance. That face that he wanted to see, everyday, at every hour, for as long as he lives. That face that claimed him that same night, with a smile, with the stares, with the intense stare in the eyes.
You.
“Hello, Bunny.” That was your nickname in your father’s organization. Bunny. Too pure, too innocent, too charming, yet, you were the complete opposite. You were nasty, you were evil, you were vengeful, you were a freak. A complete and utter freak. And he was the same, he was your exact same, and you were expectant of him. You were waiting for him to appear. You were in this trial behind your father’s back for three years, because you wanted him. You wanted the man that had whispered in your ear ‘You’ll be mine.’ three years ago. You wanted the man that’s been said to have killed and destroyed many organizations and the members inside of them. You wanted the man that you knew could own you, yet, wouldn’t cage you.
Your fingertips from your free hand raised up, finally touching the teeth of the black demon mask he was wearing, first grazing it, gently, as if taking in this moment with him, this moment where everything will change, this moment where your life will finally become yours, and his. You gripped onto the mask and finally lifted it up, and he helped by bending down slightly so you could rip it off his face, throwing the plastic far away from you both.
“Munson.” A smile appeared on your face as you saw him, your cheeks flushing at his sight, as if you were a bitch in heat in front of her master, and you weren’t far from it. You knew Eddie owned you that same night you met him, and he also knew you were meant to be his. 
“What are those?” He asked, placing a hand on your waist where a stain was on your dress, a shiver running down your spine as a soft moan escaped your throat, knowing his hand was covered in ink and touching you.
“I might have snapped a few tendons here and there… Putting the competition away for you…” Your eyes were already looking up at him with desire, with the need of being alone with him, of him claiming you, completely. He smirked down towards you, leaning down to talk closely onto your face.
“What’s your choice, Bunny?” He softly asks, his eyes hinting of desperation, but also insecurity of some sort, but he didn’t have to worry. He shouldn’t, because you are his, you’ve always been his.
“I’ll stay with you, forever, if you’ll have me.” His eyes widened slightly with emotion, his gut turning at your words and his hand flew to grab onto your jaw, harshly, to pull you towards his lips, into a messy yet wanton kiss. A kiss that he had been craving for far too long. You moaned onto his lips, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he finally let your thighs go, his calves resting on the floor now. 
His teeth caught onto your bottom lip, and you could already feel the iron taste filling your mouth, knowing he was piercing your skin, but that only made your thighs clench with eachother even more, wetness pooled inside your shorts as his actions showed you that he studied you, that he knew you, and he knew what you were into. He pulled away from you, licking his lips from your blood as he looked down, seeing your bottom lip with your red tint, blood coming out from the inside of it. 
“You’re mine. I’m going to protect you Bunny, I’m not letting anyone take you away from me, and if they dare come close… I’ll kill them, you say the word… And I’ll kill everyone you tell me to.” A soft smile spread on your face as you looked at him, crazed and wild eyes staring at each other as your grip on his shoulders tightened, and a firework was shot into the sky, but you two didn’t move. Just stared into each other's eyes. 
You’re free.
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Your hands gripped on your last bag with the remaining clothes you had. A smile on your face the whole time the elevator dinged closer and closer to Eddie’s penthouse, one of the many properties he possesses. You hadn’t changed, still wearing the white stained dress over your body, but the people that organized this trial had already sent your prepared luggage to Eddie’s, meaning that the only thing left to deliver was you.
The ding didn’t even startle you as the doors opened, and a big double door greeted you a few steps away from the metal confinement. You stepped towards it, and grabbed onto the handle, finding the door open. A smile appeared on your face as you opened it, walking in to take in the immense decorated space in modern yet vintage looking furniture. You put your bag down, closing the door behind you as you stepped inside the apartment, seeing that it had stairs going up to a second floor. 
You were looking around, knowing that he should be here somewhere. After he had caught you, you were brought into the office to sign off the permanent contract to him, with a smile to your face all the while. The host was simply looking at you as if you were insane, because being owned by the Black Dragon association was not something many desired, much less, being owned by the boss of it.
Eddie was sent home so you could gather your bags, and those bags you saw at the very corner of the living room. You heard something in the kitchen, making you tilt your head slightly at the sound, like a rattle, so you followed it, walking into the dimmed light kitchen, modern, with the cupboards and utilities in black, against the white marble counters, but your eyes centered on the person that was pouring two glasses of wine, in the middle of the room.
“Hello again darling.” He put the wine bottle on the counter and his eyes finally looked up to lock with yours. He was still shirtless, still with the same bloody clothes, the wound in his shoulder already stitched and bandaged, and your mouth salivated with the need of pressing your tongue onto his skin. His hair was down, eyes a deep brown that only made you move by instinct, slowly approaching him with your hands behind your back.
Like a small bunny.
“This house is a little big for you.” You say as you stand next to him, grabbing onto the wine glass and taking a small sip from it, the burning of the alcohol soothing your throat and calming your nerves. Nerves that were there because you waited so long to be with him, alone, like this. Completely owned by him, his property, his partner. 
“Glad that you are filling it with me now.” He says in a low tone, which sends shivers down your spine, because for some reason you knew that the night was going to be long, and that by the end of it, you won’t be able to walk. Hopefully.
“So, you’ve been studying me over the last three years, huh.” You say with a smile, not looking at him, still with the glass of wine on your lips, and the alcohol was slightly stinging the wound he provoked on you in the woods. 
“And you’ve been waiting for me for three years.” He retorted, his eyes slowly turning black from how his pupils began to dilate the more his eyes roamed your body. He took a large chug from his wine glass, putting the crystal on the counter again while you giggled at his words, making all of his blood go south immediately. 
“Took you long enough.” You replied to him and his hand twitched on the counter as he stared down at you. Your giggle stopped but that wicked smile was still on your lips, setting your glass down as you finally turned your head to look at him. “I’ve been studying you too.”
“And how so?” He asks, the need to grab you, the need to get hold of you, pin you down, making you shut up, beginning to gnaw in the deep of his gut. You shrug at him, not even sparing him another word and his eyes twitched, his fire igniting as his right hand rises up, tracing your cheek softly in which you melted at, pressing your face against it. 
Your eyes suddenly widened when his hand enveloped your throat, in one swift movement, and pressure was applied, cutting your blood flow and oxygen at the same time. A choked moan escaped your lips as he looked down at you, a smile appearing in his lips, knowing very well that you were drenched by now, clenching onto nothing as he applied more pressure on you.
Asphyxiophilia: Sexual Arousal when being choked, often cutting the oxygen circulation.
“Now, let’s get one thing straight Bunny.” His left hand, which was still on the counter, found the knife he had already prepared for this moment, the knife that would start it all. “I own you. I make the rules and you just follow them. There’s nothing else you have to do.” 
You nodded, choking on your voice as your eyes started rolling to the back of your head, your hands gripping his wrist and he finally let go of some of the pressure to let oxygen flow in your body again. You choked a sigh of relief, your breathing already jagged by how much air entered all at once in your lungs again, yet his hand was still on your throat, his tattooed hand. 
His left hand raised up, pressing the tip of his blade onto your cheek, the smile still on his face as he looked at you. You smiled through your dizziness at him, and oh you were so beautiful. He guided his knife down, slowly, gliding it over your body, until he reached the hem of your dress. Your eyes widened as you felt the sharp tip of the knife over your shorts, your clit twitching at the sharpness of it. That sent an adrenaline shock through your body that almost made you squirm, but you knew that if you moved he might hurt you there.
He appreciated you staying still, and you were just too perfect for him. He twisted the knife so the blade would be facing upwards, and he slowly punctured the tip of the knife inside your shorts, but not through your soaked underwear. He smirked at you one last time and that’s when you heard the intense ripping sound, a gasp escaping your lips, the blade stretching the dress off your body as it ripped it in half, going all the way to your collarbone. 
His eyes scanned your frame, a white bra on your body as well as the matching thong that he could see from the slit of your shorts. The both of you had dirt all over yourselves, but that only enticed him to take you even more. To finally own you completely. He motioned towards your hands with the knife, which were still wrapped around his wrist. You gave a sigh as you dropped your hands to your sides, making the dress finally fall off from your shoulders, as if it were a coat. 
He slowly let go of your neck, letting the knife rest on top of the counter again, your breathing heavy and with the imprints of his fingers already on your neck, and tears were threatening to fall down from your eyes as you looked at him, but they weren’t enough. They weren’t enough for him, and he wanted more, he wanted to see you completely ruined by him. 
“On your knees.” You shivered at his command, wanting to be a brat, deny him, but this is what you’ve always wanted, to belong to him. For him to use you as he pleases, for him to drag you around like a plaything, but yet, to protect you like a partner, like an equal. You slowly got down on your knees, looking up at him through your lashes and he pressed his fingers under your chin to keep you up. “Will you do everything as I say?”
“Yes, yes, I will.” You were desperate now, not being able to handle anymore teasing from him. 
“Open your mouth, stick your tongue out.” He commanded this time, and you did as told, opening your pretty mouth from him, your pink tongue sticking out and he grinned at the view. He gathered his saliva inside his mouth, to then lean in and drop his spit into your mouth and tongue. He immediately closed your mouth with force. “Swallow.”
You didn’t. You closed your eyes at the taste of him in your tongue, just for a second and his eyes widened, lust covering his features as he saw you moaning with his spit in your mouth. You then swallowed, and opened your eyes again, sticking your tongue out for him, as if asking for more. He straightened up, his belt coming undone, the leather slipping off from his pants. You bit your bottom lip in anticipation, knowing exactly what he was going to do with it later on.
“What do you want me to do now?” You ask him and he simply smirks down at you, wicked eyes crossing his features as he unbuttoned his pants, dragging the zipper down.
“You just stay there, look pretty, while I fuck that bratty mouth of yours.” A gasp was heard from you but it was an excited one, your eyes immediately darting towards the bulge that was inside his pants as he finally pulled them down, along with his boxers. His cock springing up to hit against his pelvis, right in between the V shape that you want to trace your tongue on. “Spit.”
He didn’t have to tell you twice, you lunged forward as he grabbed onto his shaft, pulling it down for you to spit on it, and his hand started going up and down on himself, slowly, and your lips turned into a pout as you stared. It wasn’t fair, you wanted to do that. You raised your hand up only to be stopped by a sting, a sharp sting and a smack. His other hand was still holding the folded belt, and he used it to hit your hand away, making your eyes sting with tears as you put your hand back down, rubbing it softly with your other one, looking up at him with a frown in your face.
“Wh–”
“Don’t fucking touch me. I said, STAY THERE.” He almost growls at you, sending another shiver down your spine, but you straightened up, looking up at him, waiting for his instructions as he still stroked himself with your spit, making you gulp with need, seeing how large he was, your body moving forward, wanting to give it at least a small kiss to the head, only for another sharp sting hitting you, this time, it was a slap by his big hand, not that hard, but not gentle either, making you turn your head away with a whimper.
He waited for you to turn back at him, to see your reaction, to see what you are thinking because even if he studied you, he still has some self control and empathy in himself, and much more when it comes to you. He doesn’t want to hurt you in ways that you do not enjoy, but as you slowly turn to look back at him, your cheek stinging, with a smile to your face and hazy looking eyes as if in a trance, he couldn’t help but smile down at you.
“Can I beg?” You ask, and it was an honest question, a question of boundaries, a question to get to know him even more, to know what you can and can’t do, and he was appreciative of that.
“Yes. Beg for my cock, I want to hear how much you want it Bunny, how much you’ve been wanting it for these past three years.” And your breathing hitched at that, an excited smile appearing in your lips as you looked up at him, your brain completely drained from conscious thought as your desire poured out of your lips.
“Please Eddie, I want your big cock in my mouth, please… I want to taste you, have your cum dripping in my throat, been wanting it for so long, please– Don’t keep me waiting baby, please…” Your sultry voice filled his ears, a shiver running down his spine as his dick twitched in his pants, asking for attention, but there was a reason for you wanting to beg, because you studied him too… You know what he likes.
Narratophilia:  Sexual arousal to obscene words.
“Then open your fucking mouth, and you’ll take what I give you.” You didn’t waste a second, your nails digging in your knees as you opened your mouth again, sticking your tongue out for him. With one hand he guided his cock, and with the other he pressed it at the back of your head, pulling you forward towards it. 
He first taunts you, pulling your head back for you to kitten lick the tip, to then pull you forward again to take it into your mouth only to repeat the motion again. A soft whimper vibrated in your throat, which made Eddie’s hold grow tighter on your scalp, and he finally thrust himself inside of your mouth, halfway in and started going in a slow pace first so your mouth would get coated in your saliva. He knew he would hurt you if he made you deepthroat at once, and he didn’t want to destroy your vocal chords, at least not yet.
You closed your eyes as you hollow your cheeks to finally start sucking on him, letting him bob your head back and forth at his own pace, but you relished in the taste of him, a moan escaping your throat in delight as your spit helped your movements be smoother each thrust he did into you. He was holding back his groans at your sight, finally having you at his mercy, on your knees. His self control slowly slipping away as he tilts his head back, closing his eyes at the feeling of your tongue swirling around his cock, loving the way he could feel you moaning against him.
Your pussy clenched at nothing, and you wanted to touch yourself, relieve some of the tension building inside of you, but you knew better than that, so you kept your hands at your knees, fingernails scratching your skin. His hand finally let go of his cock, guiding it towards the back of your head, finally joining his other one, gripping onto your hair. He stopped you from bobbing your head, only for him to start thrusting himself inside of your mouth, inside and out, still in a slow pace.
Your eyes opened to look up at him and his eyes beamed at how you were looking at him. Pleading for more. So that, he did. He thrusted deeper this time, a gulp being heard from you, a gargle, but not a gag, not quite yet. His pace quickened, a groan finally coming to his throat as your eyes started tearing up the deeper he went in. This is what you wanted, to be used by him, and your wetness sipping through your underwear and shorts even was an indication of that.
“What a fucking slut, not even gagging.” He chuckled only to stop when even if you had a mouth full of him, he could still see the cocky turn up of the corner of your lips while staring up at him. His nose flared and he suddenly slammed himself inside your mouth, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. A tear slid down your cheek and you finally gagged at him, but because it was a surprise to you more than anything. He pulled back only to slam himself back in, your gags and gurgles filling the room as your mascara started running down your face.
He pulled back just for a second for you to take a deep breath through your nose, and he trembled slightly with a moan caught in his throat as he saw your face. His hands gripping your hair even tighter, not being able to contain himself as he started thrusting himself into your mouth, quick, but not deep like before, yet your spit mixed with his precum started slipping from the sides of your mouth. 
He couldn’t help but wanting you to keep crying, to keep tearing up, so he slammed himself again against your mouth, hitting your throat again, and you breathed through your nose in order not to gag, but your eyes widened when you realized that he was staying there. You whimpered against him, as more tears slipped through your eyes as you tried to keep your breathing under control, but he was groaning in pleasure at the sight. 
You started gagging, your body lurching forward a couple of times and that was Eddie’s queue to finally pull away from you, taking his cock out of your mouth.
“Ung–” You were panting, trying to move your throat a bit to numb the sudden beating it received, but Eddie simply pulled you up from your hair, making you gasp as you stood on your two feet again, your knees screaming in pain from being against the hard floor for too long. His face was inches from yours and your eyes saw what he was looking at. You couldn’t help the smirk that came to your face as you felt his dick twitch against your hip as he inspected your cheeks, your tears.
Dacryphilia: Sexual arousal to seeing the partner crying or shedding tears.
His lips immediately connected to yours, a rough, deep kiss, full of lust and desperation. Your mouth opened for him, once again, and his tongue invaded it in a second. You clenched again when you felt his tongue piercing all around your cavity, on your tongue, clinking against your teeth. He moaned into your mouth when he felt the mix of his taste, your spit, as well as the saltiness of your tears. 
He pulled away from you, pulling his boxers and pants up but not buttoning himself up as you stared at him, completely dazed for his next move. He couldn’t help himself and he leaned down to press a kiss to your cheek, in which you sighed dreamily at, knowing you were being a good girl. His good girl.
“Let's go upstairs. I have to ruin you.” You trembled at his words, excited for that to happen, excited to be ruined by him, excited to be yourself with him. He turned you around, and he grabbed his belt from the counter with one hand, the other being pressed against the small of your back, guiding you towards the stairs. You went up, your pussy clenching at each step taken as the adrenaline pumped in your veins. He was right behind you, now finally walking you towards his room.
He opened the door for you, and you walked in to take it all in. Realization hit you. This wasn’t just any of Eddie’s properties, this was his house, the one he considered home, the one that was all him and not something designed by someone else. His guitars were on display on one wall, a few paintings and limited vinyl editions of what you believed were his favorite bands, the big king sized bed in the middle of the room with dark comforters, and the big window on its side, a few feet away with long black draped curtains. 
You were now part of his home.
A sudden feeling filled you as you turned around with excitement to wrap your arms around his shoulders, the action completely startling him as he looked down at you. Your lips immediately found his, as you took in the feeling that he owned you, but in the most caring way possible, and like you stated before, you knew he wasn’t going to cage you up, not that you minded if it was done by him.
His lips moved with yours as he slowly guided you towards the bed, his hands going to your back to finally unclasp your bra. The back of your knees hit the edge of his bed, and you pulled away from him, taking your bra off completely. He looked down at your bare breasts, wanting to dive into them, take them into his mouth, but he made a promise to you first. He raised a hand, slapping one of your tits with it, making you gasp with a moan.
“Get on the fucking bed, and raise your hands over your head.” You smiled at him as you sat down on the bed, pushing yourself backwards into the middle of it as he kept his eyes on you, slowly walking towards the side of the bed as you laid down, throwing your arms up, almost touching his black headboard. From the corner of it, he opened a small wooden door, at the very top, and he started pulling a black rope from it, your eyes widening at it, while a small smirk spread on your cheeks.
“The headboard seems new.” You managed to say in a hoarse voice, and he chuckled at that, grabbing onto your right wrist, pulling you towards the bracelet of the rope, wrapping it tightly around your skin. 
“Custom made. Received it a couple of days ago.” For some reason, he didn’t want to lie to you about that, nor tease you, because he wanted you to know that he prepared himself for you and just you. This bed was made for you, and that made you moan with need, your thighs rubbing together at his confession. He circled the bed, going to the other top corner of his headboard to pull the same rope out, grabbing your left wrist and pulling you towards him again, and you felt the tug onto your right hand, not letting it move further. 
“How thoughtful of you Eds.” You smiled at him when you noticed he wasn’t tightening the bracelets too hard on your skin. You have noticed that he was thoughtful of you, careful to some degree with you, yet, rough. His hand went down again, slapping at your left breast now, your back slightly arching at the feeling, with a moan trapped in your throat.
“Are you going to stop talking?” You giggled and licked your lips, wanting once again to go against him, but you knew better. You liked being dominated, you really did, and you knew that your other side was something you couldn’t do with Eddie. He sighed at your giggling, heading towards his dresser where he left his belt at the top of it. You bit your lip as your eyes glistened with anticipation.
“You’re gonna punish me? Don’t you want to fuck me? Take me? Breed me? Why are you taking so long Eddie?” You lifted your legs up, bending at your knees, spreading them open for him and he almost dropped the belt to the ground at your words, groaning as you used his kink against him. He put his knee on the edge of the bed and you smiled at him, a wicked smile.
“I told you to shut the fuck up.” 
SMACK.
You gasped loudly as your body jolted upwards from the mixed sensations that just went through your whole body, like an electric shock. He swung his belt towards your clothed cunt, smacking it, sending a sharp yet burning pain through your whole body, and your clit throbbed with the need of more friction, even if painful, it still felt so good after being neglected for a long while.
Eddie was smirking as he looked at you, squirming under him, his cock wanting to explode out of the confines of his boxers again, the zipper that was already down from his pants digging into the bulge as it twitched on him. He raised his belt again, smacking you on your left inner thigh, making you jolt again and your legs spread even more. You were perfect for him, simply perfect, moaning thanks to what he was doing, tears starting to form in your eyes again… You were his.
Sexual sadism: Sexual arousal on causing pain, non life-threatening.
“Eddie– Eddie please–” You were begging again, but that earned you another bruising smack to your other inner thigh, your back arching at the pain, yet pleasure that shot through your body as the ropes on the headboard clinked at the movement of your arms.
“Are you that desperate for my cock?” He says as he looks down at you, and you nodded desperately, a tear sliding down from the corner of your eye, and honestly, Eddie was too. He waited too long for this, and even though he wanted to do so many more things to you, he knew he had time, that you both had time.
“Yes, please, fill me up– I need your cock inside of me, waited too long for you baby, don’t tease me anymore, don’t tease us any longer…” You begged but this time it was a genuine one, a very truthful one that Eddie couldn’t deny. He put the belt to the side, almost throwing it, and he grabbed the hem of your ripped shorts and underwear, ripping it off from you in one move, helping him with the movement of your legs. 
He looked down at your wet pussy, and you already made a complete mess of yourself. The shorts were drenched as well as your tongue, and he couldn’t help but think again that he was blessed with you by some god. You were his equal, completely unhinged, crazy, and you two were desperate for one another. 
His cock would have to wait, because he couldn’t help himself as he saw you like this, at his mercy, legs spread and inner thighs red from his ministrations. He held you at the back of your knees, your eyes widening when he bent them forward, towards your chest, and your hips raised up, your cunt facing the ceiling. He smirked at it, leaning down to take a long swipe against your wet folds, making your eyes roll to the back of your head.
You wanted to arch your back, but you couldn’t as his grip was tight on the back of your thighs, making your back arch downwards. A moan escaped your lips as he kept swiping his tongue on you, licking on your wetness, tasting you, and groaning at how sweet you were, relishing in the fact that he could have you like this any time he wants from now on. Your hands made the ropes clink again, as you tried to guide them to his head, to hold onto him, and you whined at the restraints.
“Eddie– Eds–” You moaned his name and his hand raised up to smack your lifted ass as it left your thigh to do so. You gasped at the feeling, keeping your knees to your chest in order not to go against him. He flicked his tongue on your clit, and your moans finally started coming out of your mouth, one after the other. He was almost eating you up, like a starved man. 
And he couldn’t get enough. He could do this all day, he could stay buried in your pussy if he could because you just tasted so good, so much better than what he anticipated, than what he had imagined. All these years of waiting paid off, because it tasted as if you were waiting for him, it tasted like you were made for him, to his taste, that someone made his favorite flavor, and it had always been you.
His tongue finally dipped inside you, and he moaned against your cunt as he felt your walls clenching around him, the ropes clinking as you thrashed your arms from the sensation, his nose bumping on your clit as he moved his head up and down, his tongue flicking inside of you, and he really was devouring you. 
Thanks to all the edging, the teasing, and how you had been wet from the very moment you saw him in the ballroom, the coil in your belly started to form rapidly. Your moans escalated in sound, and your eyes closed at how good his tongue was flicking at your walls, trying to reach that place that would make you see stars. He took his mouth off you with a gasp, getting air back in his lungs and you almost cried at the loss, only to feel one strong and large finger enter you, and curling in a come hither motion. 
“Oh, FUCK!” Your head went back into the pillows as a moan escaped from your lips, loud, the spongy part of yourself being rubbed onto over and over again. He smirked at the sight, his panting from desire being heard along your moans.
“Are you enjoying yourself little Bunny?” He asks and you nod your head desperately, tears prickling in your eyes as you feel the burning at your hip from the position and your wrists tugged onto the ropes again.
“Yes, yes, yes! Please– Please keep going!” And he was going to. He wasn’t going to edge you, not this time, because you’ve been such a good girl, even if a little bratty, you were a good girl for him. He pushed another finger inside of you, your eyes widening as both of them started rubbing you, repeatedly, your belly screaming for release. Your chest was heaving up and down as your panting increased and his movements became fast, the squelching of your cunt being heard across the room.
“Come on, cum for me. Fucking look at me while you cum.” And that you did, staring up at him with your mouth open, moans coming out as your belly finally exploded, your vision going white as you tried to keep your eyes open for him, but you knew the tears were blocking your vision. Your pussy clamped down on his fingers and you heard him curse at the feeling as he tried to keep the fast pace on you. Your legs trembled around him as his name spilled out of your lips.
“Eddie! Oh my god, SHIT!” You kept riding your orgasm against his fingers, your walls clenching and unclenching until it finally stopped, your body jolting once, then twice as Eddie slowed down his fingers on you, and once he saw you relaxing onto the bed again he pulled them out of you.
He was breathing heavily, looking down at you as he made your lower body hit the bed again, a sigh of relief mixing with your panting as you finally felt some of the burning on your hip go away. He looked at his fingers, licking your juices off of them, and through your half lidded eyes you could see him, making your pussy clench again. You wanted to laugh at how needy you were, how desperately you wanted him. 
He wasn’t going to last long, not with you having sucked his dick, and he almost busted through his boxers while eating you out. He got off the bed, not even bothering to wipe his mouth from your slick and his spit, wanting to keep your taste on his mouth for a little longer. He walked over to one side to let your left wrist go, and he rubbed the red mark that appeared on your skin. You smiled up at him and nodded, as if telling him it was okay. He then walked to the other side to let go of your other hand, followed by him ripping himself off his pants and underwear. 
You wanted to have him in your mouth again, seeing his pink tip leaking precum was enough to make you want to open your mouth and stick out your tongue, buit he had other plans for you. He got on the bed again, but before getting in between your legs, he got his hands underneath your ass and waist, turning you over and onto your stomach, a gasp coming out of your lips. 
He positioned himself behind you, lifting your hips with his fingertips digging on the flesh of your skin, marking you up. When you left your upper body on the mattress, he groaned and grabbed onto his belt again that was on the edge of the bed, almost falling over, and made a snapping sound with it before landing it against your right cheek, making you jolt up and almost squirm away from the sting. 
“In all fours, or I’ll strap you to this fucking bed without touching you again.” That made your trembling hands press against the mattress to prop yourself up instantly. You stuck your ass at him, wiggling your hips slightly, earning yourself another smack from his belt on your other cheek, a squeal escaping your lips now. Another smack on the same place, and now a moan was heard in the room as the burning increased in that area. 
“Eddie…” You whimpered and he put the belt down, grabbing your ass with one hand, and his cock with the other to finally guide it to your waiting entrance. You moaned with need when he pressed the tip against your clit and you knew what you had to do now. “Please, I need your cock, don’t tease me anymore–”
He plunged himself inside of you, a choked gasp trapping itself in your throat at the sudden massive stretch with no mercy, your eyes widening at the feeling as they immediately prickled with tears from the sting. He was halfway in, and started invading your hole, a little slow, but not quite. He groaned with a smile to his face as he felt your tight walls engulfing him.
“Yeah, this pussy was made for me… So perfect.” You whined at that, almost a whimper as he finally bottomed out and you felt him almost at your throat. He was too deep inside of you, the stretch almost painful, but it couldn’t compare to how much pleasure it gave you. You needed him to move despite the burning sensation, because your belly was screaming for him, your mind and sould needed him.
“Eds, move, please move–” You didn’t have to beg anymore. He pulled back and slammed himself back in, making the fat of your ass jiggle at his movement, and a loud moan was out of your mouth in a second. He repeated the motion until he started going at a brutal pace, and the slamming of the headboard filled the room in between your breaths and the moans. Your arms were trembling as your body went back and forth against him, his hands now at your hips, his fingers digging into your skin.
You could hear the squelching of your pussy as he moved, wet from your climax and getting even wetter at finally having him, at finally feeling him inside of you, and the realization that you get to have him from this day on whenever you want. He was moaning, without shame at all because you were too warm, too beautiful, too pretty right now. His hands went towards your asscheeks, spreading them open to see your small hole, and a grin formed in his face between his jagged breaths.
“Next time– I’ll prep you, and I’ll fuck this little hole of yours. Would you like that, my sweet Bunny?” My. My. My. You were cock drunk now, not being able to think about anything else but him, and the way he was claiming you over and over again at every slam of skin against each other. 
“Yes! Yes! I’ll take anything from you–Fuck!” He wanted to laugh at that, as he smacked your ass with his hand, against the already bruising mark that was there. You groaned at that and he pressed his hips against you, harshly and deep and you choked on your own sounds at that. You were certain that if you pressed your hand against your belly, you would be able to feel the tip of his cock inside of you.
He reached out to grab hold of the back of your head, running his fingers through your hair to finally clench at your scalp, making you yelp. He pulled you upwards, your back hitting his chest as you ached it for him to keep thrusting in and out of you but he stood still. His mouth was on your ear as he breathed against it, whispering softly.
“You are so fucking perfect for me.” You smiled at that, your bodies sticking against each other's sweat. You licked your lips as you turned your head to look at him.
“I studied you too, you know…” You confessed to him, and he raised an eyebrow at you. You grabbed onto his hand that was in your waist, pulling it up towards your mouth. You put his index and ring fingers inside, sucking on them and you felt his hips start to move inside of you, at the same rhythm of your lips. You pulled them out to graze your tongue towards the belly of his palm where you suddenly bit at the flesh, harshly, marking him. His dick twitched inside of you as he moaned against your ear a smile appearing on your lips as they still latched on his skin, blood filling your mouth.
Odaxelagnia: Sexual arousal to biting or being bitten.
“You fucking slut.” He ripped his hand away from you, and despite the pain, he gripped onto your hips again, setting a brutal pace against you, your back arching against him, ass sticking out as your head rested against his shoulder. His mouth immediately found your shoulder, biting onto your skin until his teeth went through, your eyes widening at the burning and pain, but it sent an electric shock towards your belly which began its tightening again. 
“Only for you– God, just for you–!” He licked the blood that oozed out of the inflicted wound, and his other hand went towards your clit as his hips slammed against your ass, his dick hitting that perfect spongy part of yourself that made you moan almost in screams as he hit it repeatedly and without missing. His fingers started circling against your nub and your pussy clenched around him, earning a moan from his part.
“You have to come with me, I’m going to fill you up so fucking good.” He says into your ear and it comes unexpectedly, your eyes widening as his words triggered your orgasm way harsher than before, his fingers flicking on your clit rapidly as your juices gushed around him, making a mess out of your legs and his, and the comforter below you two. He cursed under his breath as his movements started faltering, stuttering.
“Eddie– Fuck, please, PLEASE–” You were still riding your orgasm out when you felt that warmth finally fill your belly, coating all of your walls as he spent his seed inside of you. He moaned loudly against your shoulder, as he kept pumping himself inside of you, your pussy clenching him to milk every single drop until you finally came down from your high and his hips stopped moving completely.
You were both breathing heavily as you tried to get some oxygen in your lungs. The room smelled like sex, your sweat, your juices, his cologne, and it was such an amazing smell to you. He groaned when he finally pulled out of you and his hand raised up to grab onto your chin, turning your head to look at him. His lips found yours again, this time, a tender kiss, a kiss of belonging, a kiss that sealed this bond between you both.
Your new home.
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“You really are on the pill then.” Eddie says as he lays in his bed, a new comforter over his legs as his back is pressed against his headboard. You were naked with a towel on your hand as you dried your hair with it, walking towards him after a nice shower you both took together.
“Of course.” He groaned at that with his arms crossed over his chest, looking away. He knew it was too soon to have a kid with you, but he really wanted to claim you in every way possible, and having a family with you, was another way of doing so. You smiled at him, throwing the towel to the floor, as you got inside the bed with him. His arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you close to him and you rested your head on his shoulder.
“Why did you decide to enter the trial?” He asks you and you hum at that question.
“My father has been trying to marry me off for the past three years… Sadly, all of my bachelors went missing, or were killed in action.” You say with a smirk to your face, and Eddie’s grin widened at that. He can still remember the screams of the men that tried to marry you, claiming you like he did. 
“I wonder what happened.” He says as if he were playing dumb. You giggled at that and nodded.
“Hmm… You didn’t know about my last bachelor, did you?” He blinked at that, and looked at you as you stared forward, a glint in your eyes that were filled with mischief, but also lust. “Right before entering the trial, my father told me I was to be set up with a new bachelor, and to be honest, he is a pretty, a very pretty boy.” You licked your lips at those words, Eddie’s attention already drawn to you as you spoke.
“Who was it sweetheart?” You turned to look at him, a wicked smile on your face.
“Harrington Jr.” Eddie’s eyes sparkled at that. The son of the Harrington Emporium. You licked your lips at him as he hummed at you, his eyes suddenly turning lustful as he looked down at you.
“Mmm… He is a pretty boy.” You turned your body to be closer to his ear as you talked in a sultry tone.
“Can I have him Eddie? Please?” He chuckled at that, but a new obsession was growing in his head, storming his mind. “I’ll share him, I promise…”
“We can plan on him being the next White Rabbit.” He says and your chest was filled with excitement as your hand reached for his cheek to make him turn to you, licking your lips as you talked.
“I’m the hunter next year.”
“He’s all yours.”
Bunny, Bunny, Bunny, you're so funny with your twitching nose.
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Second part maybe? Do you guys want Stevie?
REBLOGS MAKE ME REALLY HAPPY YOU KNOW.
A/N: Yeah, kinda came out of my shell with this one, I hope you all like it, and if you don't well, you do you booboo. TO ALL MY FRIENDS THAT WAITED FOR THIS, HERE YOU GO, I LOVE YOU, MWAH.
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eratosmusings · 1 month
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Stolen Destiny (I)
Feyd Rautha x fem!reader
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summary: Your father had been promised an heir. But the choices made by another stole that fate from you. Now it's your turn to take theirs.
warnings: adults only, all characters are over 18, smut in future chapters, blood, misogyny, dark themes, canon typical violence
word count: 1.2k
dividers / masterlist
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“Again,” the swordmaster calls out. 
Gritting your teeth, you comply and fall back in position with the others. All this show for what?
With a nod, a troubadour began to pluck at the strings of her Baliset again. Your feet move in the familiar pattern, hilts of the swords bouncing against your hips. This is a waste of time.
Air stills as the rest of the women swirl away from you when another Baliset, one played with a bow sliding against its strings, joins the melody. The blades gnash against their sheaths in protest as you pull them free. They sing in the air, spinning easily between your fingers. Faster and faster they spin to match the skirts of the others now twirling in a circle around you until the music slows.
Once, twice you clink the blades’ together before you stab one into the plush stool in the center. Soft, slow pattering of the drums begins as you turn your back to it. The sword that remains drags its tip against the stone floor. The women bend a knee where they twirled. Sparks follow when you twist quickly.
This is the silliest part. You face a non existent opponent. Bringing your sword forward you drop into a defensive stance. The music rises and now you fight. Thrust, retreat, parrie, circle, advance, lunge, parrie, retreat, parrie, parrie. On and on it goes until you drop the sword. Your arm extends to the partner who does not exist and spin into nothing as the music reaches a crescendo. Chest heaving, you stay there and stare into the abyss until the music and the last of your dignity finally dies.
One of the girls is quick to retrieve and return the swords to you. In contrast, you’re slow to sheath them. You’re not eager to hear the word you know waits on his tongue. But you can only stall for so long.
You turn and face him. His voice cuts sharply across the silent hall. “Again.”
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“You look ridiculous,” your father says under his breath so only you can hear. 
A gown, styled after your mother’s House, hung loosely on your frame, hiding any hint of the woman’s body beneath it. You feel ridiculous in it, but had thought it better than the other options. You should have known there was nothing you could have worn that would please him.
“My apologies, father.”
He scoffs. Nothing you do will ever please him.
It’s why you still cannot understand why this celebration is being held. He saw no honor in you being born, why would he see it in you coming of age? And to invite the likes of the Atreides? Was this all some masochistic need to see the son he should have had?
He says outloud, “Don’t embarrass me.” In your head you hear the word he leaves unspoken. ‘Again.’
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The Major Houses arrive hours apart, the lucky few Minor Houses invited padding the time between. First is the Princess Irulan. Beautiful, graceful, kind. She compliments you, embracing you as if you’d been friends for life. And it feels as such. A connection left despite the broken destiny. There would be no marriage, but your father whispers that a friendship could offer nearly as much.
The Atreides come next. The Duke is handsome. His concubine, Lady Jessica, hides behind a veil. A Bene Gesserit indeed. Their son, Paul, is charismatic and not as handsome as his father, but more beautiful. He places a kiss on your hand, complimenting your dress and, as he calls them, your lovely eyes. They fall flat on you, but he seems to preen at your own compliment of his hair with a boyish grin painting his face.
Your father’s mood shifts when they and their people are led away to the castle. “Well done. Who knew you could charm so well.” The praise, as backhanded as it is, prickles your skin. “Let’s hope can you keep it up.”
At last, as the sun sets, the Harkonnens arrive. 
Pale and hairless, they're intimidating in their black attire. The Baron did not come, instead having his nephews take his place. The eldest, Count Glossu Rabban, is a giant of a man. From the stories you’ve heard, he's a sadist but an idiot. In his shadow lies the true danger. 
Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha. He’s deceptively slight next to his brother. But to be the chosen heir for a House like the Harkonnens there must be a brutal intelligence. Like Paul he takes your offered hand and presses his lips against it. They’re cold, chapped and rough. Unlike Paul he offers a grin that had no boyishness left. Blackened teeth bared, he tugs your arm harshly. You stumble forward into him. The hand he doesn’t hold presses against his chest to catch yourself, the one he does hold twisting out of his grip.
Warm metal presses against your throat. 
Something akin to amusement dances in his eyes as they rove over your. It’s the only sign that he probably doesn’t want to kill you. There’s a measured pause of his gaze, first on the blade then sinking lower, before it flits back to your own. His voice is raspy as he speaks, “It is a pleasure to be here for your coming of age, my lady.” He leans forward and presses a kiss to your cheek. The blade retreats. His eyes don’t leave yours as he releases you, flips it, and offers you the hilt. “A gift.”
“Thank you,” you say, hoping your voice holds firm, and reach for the dagger. 
A hand flashes from behind you with a plea of, “Allow me, my lady,” from a guard. 
Feyd, tisked, pulling it out of reach. “It is not a gift for you.”
You’re unceremoniously knocked aside when the guard steps between you. “She will be given it after an inspection.”
“An inspection is unnecessary,” you hiss, face warming. It was embarrassing enough he’d managed to catch you and your court so off guard. But to openly suspect him of intending harm, after such a brazen display of weakness, would cement the failure of any good relations between your houses. Your father would never forgive you.
“He poisons his blades,” the guard insists, not quietly enough.
Feyd-Rautha’s laugh is harsh. He turns to the Harkonnens behind him, lifts his arms, and bellows, “He worries I poison the blade!” It humors them. Rabben guffaws as if he’s never heard a funnier joke. When he faces you again his black grin is even wider. He stares down the guard as he slices the blade across his open palm. Blood soils the blade and drips on the stone beneath him. His eyes shift to you again. His tongue juts out. In a grotesque exhibition he licks it. “Death does not wait for you in my hands today.”
“I never suspected it did, Na-Baron,” you agree, stepping around the guard. He moves to stop you, but a harsh glare has him backing down. There’s still a chance to save this. Appease the Harkonnens and quell your father’s resentment you can feel rolling off him in waves behind you. Feyd offers the hilt again and you take it. The blade slices across your own palm without hesitation, your blood joining his on the stone. You extend your hand to him again.
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a/n: my first fic! any thoughts would be appreciated 🥰
be my muse
next chapter
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4izawas · 9 months
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╰─▸ ❝ 𝐧𝐨 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬. ❞ ──── 𝐟𝐭. 𝐧𝐞𝐮𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞.
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𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: just like the clouds, my eyes will do the same…
𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦: genshin impact | 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: neuvillette/f!reader | 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: nsfw ; minors dni | 𝐰/𝐜: 0.86k.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: previously established relationship, age gap, character death, angst, blood, dragon reader,
𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐜𝐚𝐬: haven’t done the archon quest but god i’m in love w him so have this that i literally just fucking wrote start to finish
— 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 !!
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it’s almost cruel, how bright the sun was shining. it shone so strongly it hurt your eyes, made you squint as you gazed up at him — you, his longest lasting companion, and you, who he shields from the burning sun with his own body. the shadow his head and broad shoulders cast across your face is cool and welcome, and you ignore the way his hands shake. 
“i’d do it all over, you know,” you whisper quietly, and he tenses at the sound of your trembling voice, his grip on you tightening. “if the gods were to grant me a second chance at life, i’d make the same decisions — i’d follow for our eternity, and i’d stay. with you.”
“stupid girl, you talk too much,” neuvillette whispers, clutching you as close and as tight as he can without hurting you. “you’re wasting energy.”
clouds, a mixture of white and grey, drift into the limited stretch of sky within your sight. you reply, “it’s never a waste. not when spent on you,” and he whimpers. 
you’ve never heard him so fearful. 
“you — you cannot-“ neuvillette’s words catch in his throat, unable to escape his mouth, and you smile up at him through battle-rouged lips. his breathing shakes, but he forces himself through it. “you aren’t allowed to do this. we swore it, many millennia ago — you and i, unparted until the end.”
you laugh softly, and it hurts. “don’t you see? lover, it is the end.” blood dribbles from your lips as a low, pained noise falls from his own, an animalistic keen that breaks your heart; you can hear his own racing — the fear is getting to him, the panic as well. 
thunder booms. 
“n-no, i said no-!” he says, his voice strong and weak at the same time, and you shakily put a hand over his own where it covers the gaping wound in your middle. 
“even you cannot deny death his prize, neuvillette,” you whisper seriously. behind him, where he kneels on the pristine stone of the courtyard where you’d both been ambushed by enemies he’d finished off in a rage once he saw you fall in a splash of blood, guards approach with young furina in tow. she locks eyes with you, glancing briefly with horror in her gaze at your husband where he holds you while his trousers soak in the pool of blood you’ve created, and hers become wide and scared.
damn it. you’d not wanted her to see; it was already terrible enough that your husband had been with you when you’d been struck, and now the charge neuvillette and yourself had taken was to watch as well? the gods must be laughing at your misfortune. 
“please,” he whispers above you, hunched small and rounded so as to shield you from a threat that had already fallen upon the both of you. he ignores furina’s arrival.  “please, do not.”
lightning flashes, a warning of what was to come. 
he was done refuting fate and denying the gods their entertainment. now he was begging you, publicly prostrating himself before the many witnesses at his back without a single care in the world as long as it meant keeping you. his hand shakes as you clutch it in yours. 
“nothing will change atropos’ claim,” your murmurs, lifting one hand to cup his face. it takes almost all of the strength you have left as you lay there, bleeding out uncontrollably, but it’s all worth it as he nuzzles his face into your palm while his eyes remain squeezed shut. 
“it’s not fair,” he whispers against your wrist, his voice trembling, and you run your thumb along the crest of his cheekbone fondly. 
“life — life isn’t fair,” you force out around bloody teeth. behind your husband, the guards stand silent and furina quietly calls out a worried question you can’t really register as the wind starts to pick up aggressively. the vast picture of the sky behind neuvillette darkens to a deep grey the color of deep sea stone, a sky that begins to grow smaller and darker around the edges of your vision as your strength runs out. your heart pangs as you stare into his eyes. they’re panicked, afraid; you fear what today will do to him. you cannot let it be worse. “neuvillette — husband, look away.”
he shakes his head, and he does not. your brow furrows faintly as he begins trembling anew. 
“n-neuvillette, please…”
no. he can’t. 
“husband-…” with a choked whine, he squeezes his eyes shut.
a soft, fading sigh roars in his ears like the deafening crashing that comes with standing by waterfalls, and a hurt gasp from furina behind him prompts him to open his eyes again. he looks down at you, unmoving but still warm to the touch, and if he were a lesser learned man he’d have been fooled into thinking you were just sleeping — but you were not. you would not ever rest again, despite being drawn into the grasps of the eternal sleep. his breathing comes and goes, unstable and messy, and his heart aches. it burns with an agony as if it’s been torn from his chest—
and it begins to rain. 
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𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © { 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 } 𝐛𝐲 𝟒𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐒. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭.
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linopls · 6 months
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kinktober day fifteen
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degradation seungmin x fem!reader warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, uses of the word 'slut', unprotected p in v, facial, i could've made it worse than i did but im so soft for seungmin don't come at me. 0.9k words
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“you know,” you say softly, swirling the straw of your iced coffee. your boyfriend seungmin is sat across from you in the only decent cafe on campus, sipping his hot latte and typing away on his laptop. “you don’t have to be so nice to me all the time.”
seungmin doesn’t break eye contact from his laptop. “it’s my job to be nice to you. it was in the boyfriend contract or something like that.”
“no, no. i mean like-” you quickly stop yourself, realizing that a conversation like this cannot be held in public. 
seungmin’s eyebrows scrunched together and he tilts his head like a puppy when he looks up at you. “say it.”
your eyes wander around the cafe, surveying the amount of people in eavesdropping distance. you stand up from the booth and lean over the table slightly, seungmin leans in to meet you halfway. the sentence you whispered into his ear could’ve made him cum on the spot.
“you don’t have to be so nice to me in bed. i’m not that fragile.”
seungmin leans back in his chair and you swear if he was in a cartoon his eyes would’ve sprung out of his head and his tongue would fall out of his mouth. he stares at you in silence for a couple seconds, mouth agape. 
“come on,” he says rather strictly. he closes his laptop and places it into his backpack. “we’re leaving now.”
“what?” you ask, not moving from your seat. 
“put your stuff away. we are leaving,” he says through gritted teeth. 
you comply quickly, throwing all your belongings into your backpack and following him out the door. seungmin grabs hold of your wrist and walks you back to his apartment, just a couple minutes away from the cafe. 
“seung, did i say something wrong?” you’re first to break the silence. 
seungmin pushes the elevator button for the fifth floor. “no,” he says softly.
as the elevator dings and the door opens, he’s pulling you by the wrist again into his apartment. before you can set down your bag or remove your shoes, seungmin has you pressed against the door and places sloppy, wet kisses down your neck.
he plants kisses over top of your clothes, in a straight line to your lower stomach. with one swift motion, he pulls your pants down to your ankles. he parts your legs with his hands and takes one of his fingers and swipes it through your folds.
“god, y/n, you’re already soaking and i’ve barely touched you.”
you moan out loudly and seungmin chuckles. 
“min, i need you,” you whimper. you grab him by the collar of his shirt. 
“desepate today, aren’t we?” he teases. he interlocks his lips with yours and kisses you gently while slowly undoing the tie of his sweats and dropping them to his ankles.
he helps you step out of your pants and motions for you to jump up into his arms. he wraps his arms around you legs and supports you with a firm grip on your ass. he walks you over to the kitchen counter and lines his cock up with your entrance.
“beg for it,” he commands and the words immediately start pouring from your mouth.
“please seungmin, i need you so badly. please.”
he slams his cock into your soaking wet hole and you wince at the stretch.
“oh come on, you can take it. you do it all the time, it’s no different,” he coos in your ear. something about his words send shivers down your spine. he’s never spoken to you like this before, its so out of character and that makes it a million times more errotic. 
you wrap your legs around his waist as he continues to thrust into you with no mercy. your nails claw at his back and you bite down on his shoulder to muffle the parade of noises coming from your mouth.
“finally quieting yourself? don’t want my roommates to hear you, do you?”
your eyes widen. you had completely forgotten that he lives with two other guys and that they might be home and could hear you both out from their rooms.
“gone completely quiet now? ashamed of how easy and slutty you are that you’ll let me fuck you in my kitchen where any one of my friends could see you?”
the sound you make is a moan you’ve never made before. you clench hard around seungmin’s cock and whine profusely as he moves one of his hands to your clit. 
“seung, close,” you moan into the crook of his neck.
“so close so quick?” seungmin purrs. “damn, you are so easy.”
“cumming,” you cry as you feel your cunt pulsing around his cock. 
“fuckin’ slut,” he grunts as he thrusts into you, harsh and quick. you whine as seungmin continues to overstimulate you while he brings himself closer to his own release. 
“get on the ground,” he spits, pulling his thick and angry cock from your hole.
you quickly climb off the counter and place yourself on your knees in front of him. he wraps his hand around the base of his cock and places the tip on your mouth.
“open your mouth, slut,” he says, jerking his cock with a tight fist. with a couple of pumps, he sprays his release all over your face, most of it landing in your mouth but some on your cheeks and dripping down your chin.
he grabs you by the chin and helps you stand on your feet. he presses his lips to yours, harshly and passionately, and backs you against the counter again.
“i know you can take me again, slut,” he says, lips against yours. “let’s go back to my room, i have something i want to try this time.”
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pov im so sorry about how late this is.
@rockstrhanji @hyunjinhoexxx @mixtape-racha @euphoric-univers @haruharu-egypt @shit-why-what @twiggoblin @kookiesbunny @virgohannie @nataliee10 @ihrtlix @aaasia111 @lolli4me @lilcutieana @changbinsrightboob @hanjisunglover @chansducky10 @elissasimp @boi-bi-ahaha @lilquokka04 @anglerfishiey @sirenscall1031 @might-be-a-rat @jihyun2monster @kpflyn @samsmitty @imwithurmother @meilix @summer3sworld @mysweethannie @kittykattime @linoots @yaorzu-blog @sofiaeli 
@alemi-i @cupidsmoons @yoongles2025 @vixensss @chlooooop @lemontried @idkluvutellme @superiorbrownskinn @ana-stasssiaaa @amayaaseees @ilikecatsanddoritos @alnex05 @esairevmp @greysweaters-blog @sanzusfavgf @jutannies @faraonatojishady @hanniemylovelyquokka @chloeskzboomboom @quinnluvsmoney @burningupp-replies @aisha-md @jo-dinner @jeannie-beannie @httpsimmy @hazneezs @cuffier 
@dvbkie099 @il0v3skz @chrishak@quokkaaah @bex90997 @sheeshhhhfelixsworld @leeknowyah @tumadreposts @hyunniebunni @cipher-ipher @alice630 @jinnies-princess @bangtancultsposts @evrythinghqppened @rebellescauses-blog @juicypebbless @fawnpeaks @the-life-of-stella @lakoya @compersian @seung-mine @mal-lunar-28
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syoddeye · 16 days
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more reading recs
because one post isn't enough. we are hashtag blessed with fic.
as requested, i've highlighted fics with noncon and/or dubcon elements in orange. beyond that, you are responsible for reading tags, warnings, and summaries.
pairings are indicated, although these may change or may not be established yet.
there is no method to this madness, no specific order. these are listed here as my brain remembered them.
i've checked all the links maybe three times, if they're broken, i blame tumblr's formatting.
without further ado...
Slasher Handler by @dragonnarrative-writes - Ghost x Reader
"Simon does serial killer things. What a rascal!" Another fantastically written Simon, with wonderful dashes of Gaz and Price. It's put the term 'romance knives' in my vocabulary. There are many quotable bits and moments that made my blood run cold with how normal the ~situation~ feels, but everything has to be experienced firsthand.
The Far Shore by @deadbranch - Soap x Reader
DB's fic collection is rich, and The Far Shore is no different. I fucking loved Pacific Rim, so when I saw her first mention a PR AU, I did imaginary backflips. DB's Readers are some of my favorites because of how complex and realistic they feel, and when combined with the visceral depth of the neural handshake AND Soap? Compelling. The dynamic between them is fascinating. I almost can't wait for it to be finished so I can go back and dissect it.
Falling into Place by @mortuarywriting
Morg's brought the first COD Isekai AU I've read, like a little treat, with A/B/O to boot. The first chapter hooked me and cracked me up. Their dialogue reads so well, it truly feels like I got sucked into the universe. The panicked ramblings, the over-explanation, the 'oh shit, we don't even have a shared cultural touchstone' moments. I cannot wait for more.
Carvings by @femalefemur - Price x Reader
Cyn's got this amazing thing going on called 'Top Quality Worms' where she takes me by the hand and leads me down a rabbit hole I didn't know I'd find so cozy. Carvings is one piece from her incredible list, featuring a bloody, possessive Captain Price. Somehow, out of this entire piece, Price snapping a pen really did it for me. Did someone say loss of control? Oh no, not my kryptonite!
Under Your Spell by @groguspicklejar - Gaz x Reader x Soap
This fic had me at the pairing tag. Lured me right in. No hope for me, and I'm not mad about it. The way Gaz and Soap play off of each other in Under Your Spell is spine-tingling in more ways than one. The definition of scaroused. Kelsi writes a wonderful Gaz. The first two paragraphs in part two, Split My Skin, describe him perfectly to me.
Chokehold by @ccrites - Soap x Reader
Chokehold is a chef's kiss read. Starts off as a cute and sweet gym read, and uh, well, it does get sweeter, in a way. Without spoiling anything, there is a brief cab ride that made me take a lap before things got really going for Reader. CC's Soap is a delightful tease that is tender all at the same time. I'd join his gym in a heartbeat.
Knight/Princess AU by @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world - Price x Reader
I've read and re-read this AU series a dozen times. It's so gd cute, I might need to see the dentist about how it's rotting my teeth. Seriously, it makes ME want to be a princess. Specifically Price's princess. Bear writes such a sweet and gruff Price, catch me holding a hand over my heart and just sighing. I'm also a big fan of multiple POVs and the insight into each character.
Martyr in the Making by @eilidh-eternal - Ghost x Reader
I had a tattoo touch-up the other day, and while waiting, I thought about this fic: the dream and nightmare of being tattooed by Simon and the rest of the 141. It's a dream for obvious reasons (probably unhealthy for me) and a nightmare because of, well, you'll have to read the story. Getting a tattoo can be such an intimate experience. You put yourself into someone's care and get something permanently etched onto your body. When Reader sits for Simon, you're right there with her, the two of you on an altar.
Liquid Smooth by @cordeliawhohung - Gaz x Reader
Bodyguard!Gaz save me, save me, bodyguard!Gaz. Ugh, Gaz is fucking incredible in every flavor, but there is something that hits different about the guy when he's flexing those 'VIP protection' skills. There are several tiny moments in Liquid Smooth that made me audibly whisper, "God, I wish that were me." If you have a conifer tree allergy, you might not be able to handle the god-tier pining. (I'll see myself out.)
pornstar!Gaz by @cordeliawhohung - Gaz x Reader
Gotta include the series that I drop everything for whenever I see an update. Another fantastic depiction of best man Kyle Gaz Garrick. The charm, the jealousy, the care...My personal favorite installments are Whispers and Threesomes.
plus size puppygirl!reader / Simon & Reader / Punishment by @secretsynthetic - Price x Reader x Ghost
Ghost gets his Captain a puppy, and Synth gives us a tasty Price x Reader x Ghost story. I've linked the intro and a Simon x Reader snippet, but my personal favorite is Punishment. Punishment is a deeper dive into Price the disciplinarian: "how the hell do i get a mutt like you to fuckin’ listen?" I'd gush about it, but again, this is another one to read and experience firsthand. One of my favorite recent explorations of a PriceGhost dynamic.
~~
i'll probably cobble another one of these together in may 2024. my fic backlog is something else. i blame it on all the massive talent. mwah.
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petit-etoile · 5 months
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i  need  you  when  i'm  falling  apart
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pairing  .  ⊱   astarion x tav wordcount  .  ⊱   3,489 part one  .  ⊱   here . content warnings  .  ⊱  mentions of canon compliant temporary character death,  spoilers for act iii endgame other tags  .  ⊱   canon compliant,  character study,  introspection,  p.orn with plot,  pwp,  vignette,  re-establishing relationship,  blood drinking,  m.issionary position,  tav is gender neutral archiveofourown  .  ⊱   here .  
taglist  .  ⊱  @azrielshadows1nger, @pandimoostuff, @faevi, @microskies, @foreverthemaraudersera, @queenofthespacesquids, @claryvoyantfray, @6doodlaang14, @anne-isnotokay, @itshimbotime, @yeeteth-the-raven, @sessils,@8-opossums, @worryknotdear, @abirdaboxandachippedcup, @ghosts-and-ink, @b4um3pfl4um3, @gunslingerorchid, @hypopxia,  @m0ssytrees, @erysione, @odette-attackattack, @catching-fire-in-the-wind, @ashrio20, @wills-mental-illness, @queenofcarrotflowers-s, @kirahlene, @lavenderslemonade, @candyladycry, @chonkercatto, @foxxyhun, @nyxmainex, @angelmawss2, @godoffuckedupcats, @raviolixxx be added  .  ⊱   here .
summary  .  ⊱   You have learned to be good. It's time Astarion learns to be forgiven.
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During the heart of spring, Astarion spends more time trying to avoid you than he does trying to catch up with you. You’re not even sure why he agreed to travel alongside you  —  but you do not ask. You press your lips together and push on anyway.
His eyes are cold, and red.
The first night when you set up camp in an abandoned temple, Astarion moves his tent to the other side of the sanctuary as if he cannot bear to be around you. Like you smell. You’ve never cared much for the thoughts or opinions of others, but an inkling of self-doubt creeps back into the depths of your mind. What is the cost of being good if no one treats you kindly?
Every interaction you have with him is like pulling teeth. You want to fight for the tieflings, and Astarion wants to leave them behind. You want to help Wyll find his father, and Astarion snorts. Any good deed you suggest, he finds the need to punish.
When the cambion Raphael reaches and touches your cheek with a promise of opulence and salubrity, you're reminded of a night two hundred years ago. You stumble out of the House of Hope as fast as you can.
You don’t stop walking until daybreak. One night, you explode on Astarion. Your feelings bubble up like bile in your throat.
‘I tried to look for you!’ you snap at him. ‘You can sit here, and you can be bitter, but if I had known, I would have looked for you! But I didn’t know  —  I didn’t know and it isn’t a crime!’
Astarion’s look of surprise is one thing. He furrows his eyebrows as if properly scandalized, and his frustrated scowl turns to ash when you throw his old cravat at him. You had kept it tied around your neck for two hundred years. You wouldn’t keep it a day longer.
It’s a horrifying mistake to go wandering off in the Underdark by yourself with nothing but a hunting knife at your side, but you never really gave much thought to how you would cope with the gravity of the situation. The fact that you knew Cazador only made matters worse. You stumble past the ruins of the Selûnite Outpost in hopes of running away from your past.
You don’t run into your past in the dark, but you do run into a Spectator.
You’re immediately thrown into darkness and narrowly avoid being petrified, but you have no idea what you’re going to do about this situation besides hide beyond some poor stoned soul. You might should have considered thinking it through. You might should have thought anything through but you didn’t, and that’s the only crime you’ve committed in quite some time. It isn’t a crime is something you’ve begun to repeat to yourself often.
You manage to defend yourself for quite a while in the darkness, but by the end, you’re nursing a nasty wound and bite from the Spectator that will take some time to heal. You’re tucked under some petrified Drow bastard when you hear Karlac’s battle cry and see Gale’s ice spell come from the cliffs. The one that catches you off-guard, the one that will always catch you off-guard, is Astarion flipping through the air with nothing but an elven bow like a prince from your dreams.
Defeating the Spectator is easier with allies, and even the Drow protecting it goes down without much of a fight. You nurse your wounds as best you can, sitting against the cliffs with a bleeding thigh, and try not to frown when Astarion approaches.
‘Give me that,’ he says quietly, snatching one of Halsin’s potions from your fingers. ‘Even after all these years, it seems like you still need protecting.’
You frown and pick at your torn breeches. ‘I know how much you hate that, your honor.’
Astarion looks at you for the first time in several tendays, eyes rimmed with red. ‘I never hated it,’ he says. He dresses your wound like it pains him to see it. ‘I don’t hate it even now.’ Astarion crashes into you full force the night you arrive at the Last Light Inn after you’ve talked to Jaheira but before you’ve talked to anyone else. You’re in your room, and the next thing you know, you’re not alone.
Two hundred years of loneliness are erased at that moment.
His teeth clack painfully against yours as he shoves you into the wall, too uncaring or too pent up to care about the force. He cradles the back of your head to keep you from cracking it on the wall, but other than that, Astarion doesn’t care about hiding the full force of his strength. He kisses you until your mouth is swollen and then he’s tearing your night shirt open with both hands like he can’t get enough.
‘Astarion  —  ’ you try to say, startled.
But you would be lying if you said you didn’t miss him too. You let Astarion push you around, until you’re both stripped of your clothes and he’s lying flat on his back on the hard wooden floor with you pulled into his lap, his cock pushed deep inside you, and his hands unable to stop wandering the planes of your body. Astarion all but sobs into your mouth as he fucks you. He holds your cheeks in his hands like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever seen.
When you’re both finished, no one moves from the wood floor despite there being a bed. You lie on your side next to him, memorizing the slope of his nose while you still shiver with little twinges of pleasure still racing up your spine and between your legs. Astarion’s eyes are closed. He’s pretending to sleep, or pretending to be dead so you don’t have to talk about what’s happened, but you’re curious anyway.
You reach across the distance and touch his chest. You know there’s no heartbeat beneath his ribs, but you like to pretend. You close your eyes and dream it has been nothing but two hundred years of happiness and bliss in Astarion’s home.
‘When I first saw you,’ you say quietly, ‘I thought you were a ghost come back to haunt me.’
‘Are you often haunted by ghosts?’ Astarion asks. He still doesn’t look.
‘I’ve been properly reformed while you were away,’ you tell him. You stare at his neck. ‘There was only one ghost I was running from.’
He smiles. ‘And now you’ve found him. What do you think about this haunting?’
‘I am happily haunted,’ you say honestly. He opens his eyes then and turns toward you, lips pressed into a firm line. ‘But you are not happily haunting.’
Astarion sits up then and you follow him, legs sticky and wet. You reach for his hands and pull them into your lap. You watch as he struggles to accept a kind touch. In a way, you understand that. You remember how kindly he treated you when you didn’t deserve it. You hold his hands even when he tries to run away.
‘I was ashamed for you to see me like this,’ Astarion explains. He looks away, hesitant. ‘My condition isn’t one that I’m proud of. It isn’t fair to say I was tricked, but  —  ’
‘Wanting to live doesn’t make you a bad person,’ you say.
‘Perhaps not,’ he says. ‘But I became what I often chastised you for. I am greedy. I am prone to lying and bouts of theatrics. I’ve killed. It was embarrassing to fall so low.’
‘And now you rescue orphans,’ you say, shrugging. ‘You helped the gnomes. You helped the tieflings. You’re going to help the gnomes and tieflings again. There’s still good in you, your honor, beneath all that vampiric avarice you despair over.’
Astarion laughs and turns away from you. He’s looking for his clothes, and your heart squeezes so tightly in your chest that you move before you can stop yourself. You drape yourself over Astarion’s back and pull his arms away from his smallclothes. You can tell by the musculature of his arms that you only succeed because he lets you.
‘Please don’t leave me alone again,’ you whisper against his shoulder. Your wet eyelashes tickle the nape of his neck. ‘I waited for you that night and… I don’t want to be alone anymore.’
Astarion stays that night.
He stays every night after that too. For what it’s worth, your third visit to Baldur’s Gate is hardly better than the first two.
Between fighting cultists, saving children, and trying to convince most of your party that they’re not going to become mindflayers, you’re beginning to run a little thin. You feel like you’re going to shrivel up and die. You feel like the world is spinning and falling apart. You’ve killed Gortash and you’ve killed Orin and you killed Ketheric ages ago, but now you’re trying to keep the Emperor from betraying you and sacrificing Orpheus, and Cazador’s invitation is sitting pretty in your hands, and  —  
Well, that’s just it, isn’t it? Cazador’s invitation is in your hands, and you don’t have the heart to show Astarion. You’re afraid of showing Astarion. You know that as soon as you show him the invitation, he’ll lose his mind. You’ve only just recovered him and you’re already worried about losing him again.
You bury the invitation in the garden behind the inn like you’re a dog with a bone. You shovel the dirt with your hands until they’re cracked and raw and bleeding and the invitation is buried six feet in the ground. It should scare you that Cazador knows who you are, but it doesn’t. You aren’t stupid enough to run headfirst into his trap. And Astarion isn’t stupid either, but he’s scared, and being scared makes you do stupid things. Astarion almost does a very stupid thing like you predicted he would.
The Rite of Ascension was right there in his hands, and he had almost consumed it. You aren’t sure what changed his mind at the last minute but you’re thankful. Astarion crawls into your arms that night and sobs for hours. ‘What are we going to do about tomorrow?’ Astarion asks you softly.
He’s been tracing patterns into your spine all evening. If he moves his hands now, you’d still feel his fingertips against your skin. You’re hiding your face in your arms so you don’t have to think about it. You can’t stop thinking about it.
‘We’re going to fight the Absolute,’ you say.
‘Like it’s that simple?’
‘I am going to look another god in the face,’ you say, ‘and I am going to tell it to fuck off back to Avernus.’
‘Do Netherbrains come from Avernus?’
You don’t know. You’re too worried to think too hard about the simplest details. So far, you’re every plan has been to go in, stab whoever is the loudest, and then leave before things get worse. It’s hard to keep your head above the waves as they keep crashing down on you.
You don’t want to talk about tomorrow. If things don’t go well, you’re all going to die anyway and all that planning will have been for nothing. You turn on your side and appraise Astarion’s expression. He’s looking at you with muted disbelief. You choose to ignore it.
‘What are we going to do after tomorrow?’ you ask.
Astarion opens his mouth to chastise you for changing the subject, but he closes it almost immediately. He doesn’t want to talk about it either. It’s a scary thing to walk into the end of the world with a sword and a dagger. At least Dame Aylin will be there. You hope she can just stomp the Netherbrain to death and then it’ll all be over.
‘I could always go back to being a magistrate,’ Astarion says conversationally.
He picks at a thread coming loose on his blanket.
‘If you go back to that, I’ll go back to being a criminal,’ you muse. ‘We can have nasty sex on your desk again. You always did look damn good in a cassock.’
Astarion laughs. He laughs like the sunlight that peeks through the window on a sunny morning. He laughs like the moonlight that splays on the cobblestone of Baldur’s Gate long after everyone else has already gone to bed. It’s hideous  —  it’s melodic and intoxicating, and you reach across the distance and touch his cheek without thinking.
You slide your finger across to his nose. You press your finger against the wrinkle between his brow, and Astarion starts laughing again so you do too. You kiss him while he laughs, and then he holds you and you both laugh together. He will never be a judge again. Your connections with the Zhentarim will die out.
Astarion brushes his fingers against your hip bone. He rolls out of bed like it’s the easiest thing in the world to do, and you miss him. Already without him, the bed is much colder. You dramatically crawl across to his side and press your nose into his pillowcase to smell the faint traces of whiskey that are left.
When he returns, he presents you with his old cravat which has been neatly restored almost to perfection. He had sewn it back together himself. You had worn it for two hundred years as a good luck charm against evil, and the wear and tear had nearly torn it to shreds. You’d never had the heart to try to tailor it yourself. Sewing wasn’t your strong suit, and you had never cried over Astarion’s death until the day you thought you had lost it.
Astarion neatly ties the cravat around your wrist like a promise. He kisses your skin and inhales as though in a dream, nose brushing against the fabric, like the touch of a ghost against your veins. Your throat tightens.
‘Wherever this takes us,’ Astarion says, eyes burning. ‘I want to be there with you in the end.’
You tuck inside your bed with Astarion that night and watch the moon disappear through the window. It’s barely daylight when you’re finally too exhausted to stay awake, and Astarion almost lets you both miss the final showdown. Lae’zel, however, doesn’t. ‘I don’t mind what we do,’ Astarion is saying, ‘once we get to the  —  ’
You watch with muted horror as Astarion’s skin begins to glimmer in the sunlight. The fire begins cracking under his skin, brimming against his cheekbones and nose and throat and hair much like Karlach when she overheats. You watch as the tips of his ears ignite, and then he’s searching for you frantically between all of your friends.
‘I have to go,’ he chokes out. ‘I have to  —  ’
There is a world where you let Astarion run alone, where you both get separated on the docks and never find one another again. He runs from the sun as he bursts with radiant energy and as stars pour from his skin, you forget what Wyll is saying, and you run after him.
Astarion finds sanctuary in melting shade beneath a set of boxes. He’s curled up into himself when you arrive, and you drop next to him, pulling your cloak over your heads. He looks up at you, bewildered.
But you have lived through losing Astarion once, and it has haunted you for two hundred years. You had known loneliness and fear and anger, and the thought of surviving it for even a day more makes your stomach roll. You press your forehead to Astarion’s and stand as tall as you can so the sun can’t touch him ever again.
‘Won’t your arms get tired?’ Astarion asks you faintly.
He watches you with a sense of wonder. His skin slowly returns to normal, no more flickering stardust and ash, and you grin. He slowly smiles too, nervous but you shake your head and keep your cloaked raised.
‘Never,’ you say. ‘Not when it’s you.’
‘My reform worked, then?’ he says.
‘I’ve learned about your stuck-up decorum,’ you say. ‘It’s true. I can confirm.’
‘A sense of propriety?’ Astarion asks, and if his voice goes any softer, you’ll melt too.
‘Let me carry the weight of your sins,’ you tell him sincerely, laughing a little. ‘And if we need to find another desk then we will. But I’ll be your knight in shining armor, your honor, and carry a parasol above your head as a proper chamberlain would.’
Astarion snorts. ‘That isn’t quite the job of a chamberlain.’
You hold the cloak up for two hours at least while Astarion recovers from the damage. You can’t help but notice that he looks happy and content even in the shadows. It must be because you’re there, although you’re hesitant to take credit for all his happiness. When you let down the cloak, the sun has set. When Astarion rises, he kisses your cheek sweetly. ‘The silence stretches on  —  I’m all alone,’ you muse, ‘Please, can I hold your hands, just for a while?’
Bernard’s arms wrap around you gently, and you wrap your arms around his steel ribs. You’ve taken up residence in the old Arcane Tower in the Underdark. You appreciate the permanent nighttime, and if you admitted you only did it because Astarion wanted to be close to his family, it wouldn’t be entirely true. With a bit of help from Gale, you’ve managed to turn the tower into a comfortable fortress. Sometimes Omeluum comes to visit you. Occasionally, there’s word from Shadowheart from the Selûnite Outpost. She’s hoping to restore it. She wants you to come visit.
‘Are you still playing with that dusty old thing, my love?’ Astarion hums from the doorway.
‘You be kind to Bernard,’ you warn him. ‘He’s my friend.’
‘Of course, of course,’ Astarion says, holding his hands up. ‘I’ll be kind to the scrap metal.’
You roll your eyes and step away, touching Bernard’s chest briefly. Astarion has just arrived back from a trip. There are spawn all over the Underdark now, and they treat Astarion as though he’s some sort of prince. They heed your word too, but none so much as his. Their eldest brother, their favorite. They tolerate  you if it means getting to see Astarion.
You’re a jack-of-all-trades and master-of-none now. You leave your handiwork for the day or night or whatever it is to go down to your bedroom and recline in bed. Astarion lights each candle one by one until the room is illuminated. You smile and watch as he works.
‘Having responsibility suits you well,’ you say, resting your cheek on your palm. ‘Although it’s funny how our positions have changed somewhat.’
‘I’m the contracted killer,’ Astarion says with a laugh. ‘Are you a magistrate now?’
‘I have at least four hundred years of life left,’ you snort. ‘I, Magistrate Judge Stick-Up-My-Ass, sentence thee to fifty years of community service!’
Astarion rolls his eyes at you dramatically and throws himself into bed, kicking off his boots as he does so. He smells of fresh oils and mist. You bury your nose in his hair. You practically burrow yourself into him, wrapping your arms and legs around him like a mindflayer. You squeeze him tightly in your arms.
‘We have a sprawling manse and all you can think of to do all day is mock me for a position I have not occupied in two hundred years?’ Astarion pouts.
You kiss his hair. ‘What else should I do?’
‘Well,’ Astarion says, tone turning conspiratorial. ‘There are a certain amount of fuckable places here. Several desks, I’ve counted them all, and couches.’
You contemplate it, but after several tendays on the road and a wiggling visitor in your head, you think the bed is the best place. You pull Astarion up to kiss him, arms wrapping around his neck so he can’t leave you. You never want him to go again. You bump your nose against his and hide a smile in his coiffed hair when he melts against your chest.
You sigh prettily when Astarion takes you in your velvet sheets that you float as though in a dream. Your troubles are long over, and that person you thought you lost  —  your immortal soul  —  has returned to you as beautiful as the day you lost him. When you shudder, Astarion brushes hair out of your eyes adoringly and tastes your pulse at your jaw. You dig your fingers into the small of his back.
It’s like you’ve found a family. A very bitey, very competitive family. Still, you wouldn’t change any of it for the world. You hold Astarion’s face in your hands and see the man you knew and the man he’s become. Slowly, you pull his mouth towards your neck and feel your heartbeat jump in your chest.
He bites you for the first time that night.
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meguemii · 9 months
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JJK Moodboards
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Relationship vers.
Characters- Megumi, Yuji, Toge, Nobara, Nanami, and Gojo
it’s implied the reader is feminine, nobara’s is wlw 🩵 i also just wanna say these moodboards are only for your relationship with the character, it isn’t an actual character moodboard, i’ll make one of those in the future though^_^
also super mild spoilers if you aren’t caught up with jjk
!!not proof read!!
master list
★﹐Megumi Fushiguro.﹗﹑
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•Megumi and you definitely have a quiet relationship, study dates, naps, nighttime walks, like it’s just so tranquil.
•You two just like basking in each others company😊
•Quiet study dates are yours and Megumi’s thing, sitting beside a window reading over notes as well as taking new ones. if you ask megumi a question i’m 90% sure he’ll alwaysss have the answer
•oh you’re craving something? he’s got it for you within minutes. he always wants to make sure you’re happy. you wanna go for a walk? he’s already got your hoodie ready and your shoes at the door.
•he’s just a super considerate boyfriend, he doesn’t need to show his love through extravagant dates, or hangouts. he shows his love through his consideration, and small acts of love. we stan this qt
You laid in his lap scrolling through your phone, you could feel his eyes burning through your skull and you could see him staring at your face through your peripheral vision. without a word you reached up to caress his face and he just smiled at you gently. everything was perfect.
★﹐Yuji Itadori.﹗﹑
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•yuji is such a fun boyfriend!! you cannot tell me you two aren’t constantly getting up to something fun— yet stupid. but fun!!
•you guys are thee shopping cart relationship aesthetic. AND DO NOT TELL ME YOU TWO ARENT THE BURGER KING PHOTO. that photo literally screams you and yuji, hello???
•funny photos aaaaall the time, you make nobara take candid photos all the time so you can cherish them later
“yujiii!” you shrieked as a pillow collided with your face. giggles echoed in the room as well as the sound of pillows making contact with something. “you didn’t wanna go get food with me today! you deserve this!” he said through giggles all while pummelling you with a pillow. The door of your door room creaked open and there stood Nobara as she watched the scene unfold, quick to pull out her phone and take a photo and sending it to you and as quick as she came she left. After everything settled down you checked your phone. ‘Nobara🪷🤍 sent you a snap’ opening yours and Nobara’s chat you smiled, saved the photo and added it to your album
★﹐Toge Inumaki.﹗﹑
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•yours and Inumaki’s relationship is simple, yet fun. it’s similar to Megumi’s in that sense but it’s also similar to Yuji’s as you two are also a fun couple, just in a different way.
•You two aren’t obnoxious together, mostly because Inumaki can’t exactly speak very often so you two do smaller things.
•i know you guys loooove visiting cafes, and going to the farmers market on sunday mornings, shopping trips all the time— but you never tell anyone you’re going. simple study dates are a common occurrence as well!!
The birds chirping outside the window that was blearing in with sunlight could be heard as you stirred awake, bedsheets tangled around you. grabbing your phone from your night stand it read ‘sunday 6:53am’. sighing you got up and got ready, brushing your hair, brushing your teeth, washing your face putting on a sundress and sun hat, and finishing your morning routine. you make your way to Toge’s door about to knock as it opens and he’s there facing you. “you wanna go get coffee?” you smile at him as he nods tiredly. The morning summer breeze on your face is so incredibly relaxing, sipping on your iced coffee, hand in hand with Toge’s, you talking enough for the both of you as he just listens intently.
•You two are so cute!!
★﹐Nobara Kugisaki.﹗﹑
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•whether you guys are out wreaking havoc, or staying in for the day, you two are THEE cutest couple idc. i said it!! everyone’s favourite wlw couple🗣️
•you two are always going out to eat, or drunk in some park at 2am. You two also enjoy going on nature walks and just sitting in each others presence because I KNOW it’s exhausting being everyone’s TRUE favourite chaotic couple
•there is definitely a lot of fights in this relationship though, i can definitely see a power struggle, you two just need to learn to be patient with one another. how does it feel to be angsty?🤨
It was about 12am at this point and you two hadn’t moved from this windowsill as you just chatted, talking about anything and everything and you never seemed to run out of things too talk about. suddenly it did get quiet though, Nobara staring into your eyes in astonishment. “you’re so pretty” she whispered out. “you’re so corny!” you laughed and her face changed to an annoyed expression. “nevermind you’re ugly and annoying.”
•i don’t think you two can ever be serious when it comes to compliments, you guys are the best nonetheless
★﹐Kento Nanami.﹗﹑
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•bro is so fancy? you guys are always dressed up and doing SOMETHING. like why are you two always so hot and good looking and awesome and fancy? whether it’s dinner dates, coffee dates, or going to the art museum. you two always look so goddam good doing it!!
•how much is your allowance?🤭 no but fr Nanami is such a gentleman, your heels are hurting your feet? dw he’ll carry them, you can’t get the zipper of your dress done up? he’s already zipping it up for you. holding his hands on your waist a fewwww seconds longer than needed
•high school Nanami definitely always bought you coffee when you studied, and he was definitely the type of loser to sit beside you and put his earbud in your ear and just listen to music— bro is so corny sometimes but like. so hot.
•I don’t have any ideas for a written portion, i’m so sorry!! [sobs]
★﹐Satoru Gojo.﹗﹑
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•clingy!! he’s so clingy. do you reeeeaaallly like that? i don’t but i’d put up with it since it’s literally super hot, sexy and strong satoru gojo!!
•simple dates, simple relationship, gojo wants to keep it as far away from the jujutsu world as possible, although that’s hard when you two are both sorcerers. he just wants what normal people have sometimes.
•did you guys notice the bike photo?? get it?? because of that one scene of gojo and suguru on the bike?? although i don’t think gojo will be killing you anytime soon. or ever.. i don’t think he could kill his best friend AGAIN.
•Gojo definitely loves to annoy you, not out of malice he just thinks it funny. I think you’re the more grounded one in the relationship and you just let him be himself, so it balances out.
•he would do anything for you, even bend over so you can stand on his back to get something off of a shelf. what a kind, and generous man.
•goofing around, striking weird poses constantly, dancing in the rain, picnics, beach days. all your favourite things to do together!
•do i have to write a scenario for gojo?😞😞 okay fine i will. just not rn🤭 i’m very unmotivated rn lol! I just wanna keep making mood boards tbh.
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Okay so that’s that, until i go back and. write Gojo and Nanami’s small scenarios. if anyone is reading this what would you guys wanna see from them? it doesn’t have to correlate with one of the photos, just the general idea of yours and their relationship if that makes sense? ANYWAYS. from now on i’m going to link my spotify in all my blogs because i’m positive someone will enjoy my playlists 😠
spotify right here!!
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Dirty Work 48
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.
Characters: Loki
Note: My tumblr page wouldn't load on PC so I hope this posts?
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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A moan flutters between your lips as Loki's mouth closes around your nipple. His fingers daintily brush over the bruise along the other side of your chest, lingering on the bite mark before quickly trailing down. He fondles you as he swirls his tongue and hums, the low note rolling through you.
Your chest coils tight as you lay helpless. This isn't what you want, you want to talk, yet you cannot stop him or the heat coursing from your core. You tilt your chin up, arching your spine as he tickles along your side.
You close your eyes and try to push away the thoughts storming inside of you. Forget about everything; about Thor, and the locked door, and that fear plucking at your chest. This is what you're supposed to do. As long as he wants this, you still have a place here.
He brushes along the angle of your pelvis and down the crease of your thigh. You gasp as his touch sends a chill through you. He drags himself down your body, feeling along your legs as he lifts your feet onto the bed. You bend your knees, open to him as he slithers over the edges.
He kneels at the side of the bed and you turn your head away, shy as he glides a finger between your folds. You push your hands down to cover yourself, knowing he's looking at you. 
He pulls your hands apart, twining his fingers through yours as he leans forward. You tense as his breath scours you and he delves his tongue along your cunt. You squeak and spasm at the cool sensation as it mingles with your warmth. 
Your toes curl as he dives into you, cling to your hands as he laps you up ravenously. You moan and squeeze your thighs against his head. You rock as he teases you just so, tasting you with delighted growls. 
He lets go of one hand, drawing his down, tracing a line along your flesh and down to your thigh. His tongue flicks over your clit as he prods along your entrance, toying with you as he spreads the slickness gathering there.
You whine as he dips a fingertip inside, he pulls in and out, sliding deeper each time. Your walls clench around him as your nerves ping against each other. You reach down without a thought, latching onto the coils of his hair.
He pushes another finger into you, sinking up to his knuckles. He rocks his hand in time with the motion of his tongue dancing around your tender bud. You tilt your hips towards him, welcoming him in as you block out the world on the other side of your eyelids.
You feel the bloom inside of you, like a morning glory opening to the sweet rays of sunlight. Your breath hitches and your muscles draw tight. You grit your teeth down on a moan and tug at his hair, rolling against his mouth, pleading wordlessly for more.
He keeps going, faster, deeper, working his hand against you as he drinks in your pleasure. You pant wildly as you ascend, higher and higher, and the wave crests, crashing down on you in tendrils. You twitch and whine, giving in to the sheer ecstasy of his touch.
He doesn't relent. He releases your other hand and spreads his hand wide across your stomach as if to hold you there. You couldn't move if you tried. You're so overwrought by his tending, your legs slip down and dangle over the edge. 
You lift your head and your lashes part. You peer down at his dark strands as they drape over your pelvis, tickling along your lower stomach. The very sight of him lights a new fire in you. You fall limp and drone weakly. It's too much and yet you don't want him to stop.
Another orgasm breaks within you. This one has your voice pitchy as it piques. You cry out and thrash, the scattering of your nerves too intense. 
You yank on his hair and push on the side of his head.
“Please, please, I can't…” you beg.
He chuckles against your cunt and rams his fingers as far as they'll go. You squeal and jolt on the mattress, pulling a hand asay to slap the bed.
“Please,” you whimper, “Loki…”
“Yesss,” he hisses and flicks his tongue up, “say my name, pet.”
“Loki,” you huff, “Loki, please…”
He purrs as he tastes you again, growling into you. You squirm and clasp the blanket, dragging it towards you as your nails graze his scalp. Your eyes roll back and you suck in air through your nose.
“Loki!” You exclaim, “Loki, I-I–”
You quake as you cum a third time. The bed trembles with you as you sink into the waves. Your hand falls away from his head and you just lay there in surrender. 
He raises his head, parting from you as his humid breath stains your skin. You shiver as he slips his fingers from you, dragging them between your folds and you close your legs. He retracts his touch with a snarl and stands. 
As he looms over you, you fold onto your side. Your heart raises, breath bated, skin buzzing. You watch his shadow against the wall as he unbuttons his shirt. 
You inhale and let your eyes close. You're tired already. You listen to the rustle of his clothing as he undresses. A current flows through you at the thought of what he'll do next. A tremor at the question mark still between you.
He crawls onto the bed. He urges you onto your back as he brings himself over you, keeping himself cradled between your open legs. He sweeps his hand along your hairline and down your cheek, framing your face as he bows to kiss you.
His nose presses against yours but the pain fades into the echoes of delight. He curls his other arm beneath you. He breaks away from your lips and smears his mouth down your cheek. He nibbles and nuzzles down to your neck.
His hand creeps down to your chest once more, savouring every curve and line, doting on every inch. His naked body crushes yours into the bed as he growls and nips at your throat. You moan as his length rubs against you.
He shifts his knees, lifting himself, angling his tip down and gliding it along your cunt. You grasp the back of his head, chest clutching, muscles knotted. Are you ready for this?
It doesn't matter. He isn't stopping and you can't make him. His hand snakes down as he guides himself along your folds, wetting himself as he groans into the crook of your neck. He pushes against you, your body resisting his intrusion.
You hook your other arm around his neck, hugging him as he rocks, working against the invisible barrier. He eases inside, stretching you around his swollen tip as you whine and whimper. Your eyes prick with tears as ripples sear through you.
He wiggles his hips, patiently tilting until he slides a bit further. You gasp and push your head back, your arm looping tighter around his neck as you clutch his arm with your other hand. He breathes against your skin as he thrusts carefully, each time a little further.
“Mmm,” he purrs, “pet, you're so good…” his teeth pinch you again, “how could I not want this.”
He delves in even deeper and you exclaim. A heavy pain fills you as he overrides the last of your resistance. You dig your nails into his firm muscle as his hand slips beneath your ass, lifting your pelvis against him.
He sinks to his limit and your tears flow over. Through the agony, the spark remains, burning hot through your core. He unhooks his other arm from beneath you and stretches his hand across your neck, his fingers closing around your throat as he pushes his lips to your cheek.
He rolls his hips as you whimper. You gnash your teeth and you flutter your lashes against the swell of pain. Slowly it recedes and once more you plunge into the raging tides. 
The bed moves with him, scraping on the floor as he ruts hard and faster. He puffs against your cheek, gristly whispers wafting into your ear, “pet… so delicious… mine…”
He squeezes your neck tighter as he picks up his motion. The friction of his pelvis strikes heat in your clit, burning hotter and hotter with his tempo. You wheeze above his grip and whine, spasming through another climax.
“Say it,” he snarls.
You obey, “Loki.”
“Louder,” he demands, pounding you into the bed, his body flush to yours, sweaty skin sticking together.
“Loki!” You bluster.
“Pet,” he growls as he buries himself in you over and over. “Do you feel… how much I want you?”
You moan and bite your lip, quivering in the dregs of your orgasm.
“Do you?” He rasps. 
“Y-yes,” you babble.
He grunts and tears his hand from your throat. He brings both arms beneath you, hooking his fingers around your shoulders as he hangs his head down next to yours. He rams into you with all his strength, fucking you so you bounce against the bed.
Again, the pressure aches in you. It doesn't take much for it to snap again. You drone madly as pleasure flows from you. Loki drives harder and harder until you think you might break.
He growls and grunts, whipping his hair behind his head as he lifts himself. He slides out of you, your insides twitching, and slides his length along your tender lips, rubbing himself against your cunt as he tenses and shakes.
He cums with a gritty series of groans  spilling hotly onto your pelvis and stomach, spreading the mess with his slowing motion. He drops his head and puffs. Dazed and drained, you reach to touch his shining stands. He flinches and raises his head, looking down at you with fiery hunger in his eyes.
He angles himself back and eases down, slipping inside of you once more. You squeal, oversensitive and worn out. He shudders and lifts you, sitting on his heels as he brings you onto his lap. 
“Pet,” he utters, his tone agonized, “you will never leave me.”
He covers your mouth with his, swallowing down your shallow breaths as he rock you atop him. He trembles as he does, small whimpers spilling into you. But he doesn't stop. It's as if he means to consume you entirely.
You melt into his kiss and his embrace. You don't have the strength to deny him, you don't even have the energy to think. The world beyond your bodies is fuzzy and insignificant. 
The afternoon wears on in shades of blue. You lay beneath Loki’s arm as he dozes beside you. He needs the sleep so you let him be, happy to see him rest.
As you lay trapped, you grow restless. You shift from his grasp, gently leading his arm over the pillow. You get up, careful not to jostle too much, and retreat to the bathroom.
You relieve the pressure in you and sigh up at the ceiling. You rinse yourself and stand gingerly, thighs pulsing as they meet. You limp to the mirror and wince at your reflection.
You forgot it all. The tree cracking cartilage, the stain of dirt and blood, the unheard pleas. You grip the counter and hunch over the sink.
And what is so different now? Loki didn't want to hear you so he took. He took exactly what you promised but is it any better?
You feel sick and dizzy. It's just the concussion. It's the whirlwind of it all. You can't think straight. 
You wanted it too, didn't you? You begged for more. You moaned in delight. You even came you don't know how many times.
So why does it feel so… strange?
You close your eyes and turn on the facet. You dab water around your face, trying not to wet the bandages, and centre yourself. There isn't much of a centre to be found. You are more lost than ever before.
He wants you, but do you want this? Do you even know what this is? It's all foggy and he refuses to wipe the glass clean.
You shut off the water and raise your head. Your eyes widen as you notice the figure behind your reflection. Loki stands in the doorway, his face unreadable.
“I thought you'd wandered off,” his voice is brittle as he approaches.
You shake your head and dry your hands, hanging the cloth back on it's hook. Before you can face him, he has you penned against the counter. He reaches to your chin and turns your head straight.
“Do you understand now, pet?” He lays a kiss on your crown, his eyes alight as he watches you ib the mirror.
“No,” you whisper and clear the frog from your throat, “I don't understand. Loki…” you shudder and stop his hand as it rests on your hip, “we need to talk about what happened.”
“We… did we not enjoy ourselves?” He asks with an arch in his brow, his other arm snaking around you.
“Not that,” you try futilely to escape him, “about Walpurgisnacht–”
He hushes you and tuts as he pushes you against the counter, “it's over now. Behind us. Let's not worry–”
“Loki,” you twist around and press your hands to his chest, “Thor–”
“Don't say his name,” he recoils and wags a finger at you, “ever. Not to me.”
“He–”
“Enough,” he snaps.
“I just want to move past it–”
“I am past it,” he insists, “it's as simple as that. Walpurgisnacht is over, this a new beginning. For us. Just us.”
“I… know, but–”
“But?” He sneers. “We are home. We are here. They will not bother us here. I will be certain of it.”
“Them? Loki? What does that mean? Frigga? Odin?”
He scoffs and waves his hand dismissively, “I told you this conversation is over.”
He spins on his heel and marches out. You gulp and follow him as he disappears into the bedroom. He snatches his robe from where it hand by the closet and continues to the door. You scurry to catch him but the door closes before you can reach him.
You feel the lock slide into place and throw your fists against the door, “Loki!”
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devilfic · 2 months
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❝right place, right time❞
VII. twenty-one questions.
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parts: previously plot: everything comes to a head. pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: surgeon!reader, secret identities, slow burn, reader's a little stupid, descriptions of surgical stitching, blood, surgical needles, knives, violence, mentions of drugs and underage substance abuse (alcohol), minor character death(s). words: 11.4k.
a/n: it has been yet another hot minute and this chapter has given me a lot of grief in terms of all the ideas I had for it and what it ended up being. as you can tell by the word count, I could Not shut up
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Alfred calls you bright and early to watch Bruce spar.
The billionaire had mentioned it before, and while you didn't doubt you would meet an untimely fate were you to challenge Mr. Pennyworth one-on-one, it was a whole other thing seeing them both on the mat.
Alfred is slow but thoughtful; when Bruce attacks, he goes for several hits at once. Alfred anticipates each one. He's more defense than offense, but when he strikes Bruce in the chest even you can feel it.
Bruce is lean, quick. He ducks and rolls and uses every part of his body, not just his fists. He looks a little sloppy when he wraps his legs around Alfred's—out of practice, maybe?—but it doesn't keep him from succeeding. Alfred fights like a soldier. Bruce fights like a martial artist.
Bruce makes a noise when Alfred falls to the mat and you spring up with attention, "Everything okay?"
You hear "his leg" and "I'm fine" overlap one another.
The real reason Alfred had called you was because he wanted you to watch Bruce hurt himself. The vestiges of a sprain, he guessed, that Bruce was too stubborn to rest. When he couldn't convince Bruce to pass on sparring, he resorted to you: "an objective spectator." Alfred had sounded pleased. Bruce had looked about ready to suplex him.
You head over anyway, ignoring the protests of the injured so you could kneel and survey the damage. "Can you walk?"
Bruce doesn't meet your eyes. He forces his body to stand, but you can easily tell he's favoring a side. You reach a hand up and pinch his injured calf, hearing him hiss through his teeth. "Of course it's going to hurt when you do that." He sounds childishly annoyed. Alfred is fighting a smile from his spot next to you.
"I don't understand. You're head of the company, you can afford to take a few days off. Even chair rest is still rest."
"Ah, but there lies the conundrum," Alfred pushes himself up to his feet, "he cannot sit still."
Bruce extends his hand to you, still avoiding eye contact. You hesitate but take it anyway, and the ease with which he hoists you to your feet is a bit disorienting.
Since your agreement with Batman, you were forced to be patient. After all, there were more pressing matters in Gotham besides your own ticking time bomb. He'd promised that he'd get back to you soon about Bruce and, until then, you would have to grin and bear it.
Alfred excuses himself to get busy with lunch the minute Dory enters with the groceries, leaving the two of you alone in the middle of the living room. "As your doctor," you begin, "I can't in good conscience let you keep pushing your body past its limit."
"It barely hurts anymore."
You bend as if you're about to grab at his leg again and he takes a step back, annoyed—if not offended, "You have no record of chronic pain. No record of serious past injuries at all. Yet you strain yourself doing... what, exactly? Sparring all day? You may be young, Bruce, but your body isn't indestructible."
You get the feeling he's heard this before, bristling like a scolded cat as you stare him down, "I'm fine," he brushes past you toward the table he and Alfred moved to the far end of the room, grabbing a sweating glass of water, "Alfred's just being... Alfred. He worries too much."
"I worry," Bruce raises a brow as he takes a swig and you clear your throat, "you said you need to be reminded to care of yourself. Well, that's my job now. Not that the hospital couldn't use more of your money but it's not worth the pain you'll be in." Bruce leans against the table, one leg crossed over the other. You approach, briefly taking note of the water that dribbles down his chin. "I'm starting to think you're just a masochist."
"Yeah? How do you figure?" His lip twitches up into a smile.
You open your mouth but the thought stops you cold. You were going to say, "Because I know someone just like you," but then you're transported back to that fateful morning where you first met. Bruce and all his... familiarity. The wild speculation of your exhausted mind. All of which, at the time, overlapped perfectly. Yet now that you knew them both better, they were worlds apart to you. Except for that one thing.
What was it that set them apart, again?
Your eyes drift up to Bruce's. "I get your type at General sometimes," you divert, "real pains in the ass."
Bruce steps closer to you with his glass abandoned on the table, "And your type can't seem to leave well enough alone."
You prickle. If it weren't for the fact that he was so clearly teasing you, you'd have lingered on the almost double meaning, "The fact you think this," you raise your foot and tap the side of Bruce's injured leg; his eyes narrow, "is well enough further proves my point. You need rest."
Bruce rolls his shoulders back; his compression tee clings to every muscle as he does, drawing your attention for a brief moment. "I'll think about it."
Your jaw drops. Bruce smiles. You feel a white hot flash of irritation that's wiped away when Alfred reenters the room, dishtowel thrown over his shoulder, eyes fixed on you, "Will you be staying for lunch?"
Before you can say no, Bruce interjects for you, "Yes. Thank you, Alfred." Then he turns to you, pats your arm like a friend, and pushes you in the direction of the kitchen, "I'm gonna shower. Make yourself at home."
You stumble over yourself, regaining balance just as Bruce's head disappears over the top floor banister. How quickly he could retreat when leaving you to the lions.
But Alfred is in a good mood today. Better than usual, actually. The hair on your neck stands on end as you follow him to the kitchen, preparing for the good mood to sour now that it wasjust the two of you, but it doesn't come. You watch him hum a little tune as he fixes up some vegetables to sauté.
You even find yourself getting comfortable at the island when he breaks the silence, "I appreciate what you're doing for Bruce... regardless of its efficacy. It's nice to know someone else has common sense in this house." Alfred sets down four empty plates at the breakfast table.
You take note of his tone, an improvement from his barely concealed dislike from weeks before. You take that as a small victory for today, "It's like arguing with a brick wall. How have you managed it all these years?"
"Like a soldier." Without asking, he fills a glass to the brim with water and hands it to you.
"Right. You're a veteran." Your observation gives him pause, the food he tends to at the stove crackling away. "I can tell. I've treated a lot of veterans so I can spot them from a mile away now."
Alfred snorts, straightening his shoulders. "I served as a young lad. Eventually retired and came here, took on the job as the Waynes' butler and bodyguard. I've been with them for quite some time. Since before Bruce was even born."
"You practically raised him."
"Rather... clumsily, might I add," Alfred glances at you and you're surprised to see him bashful, genuinely, "protecting him, I could handle. Raising him... well, that was another matter entirely."
"But you did a pretty good job. I mean, he's accomplished a lot. Especially with the mayor. I imagine that's why he's working so hard: really seems like he's dedicated to restoring his father's legacy."
You can't help the little hook you throw out.
Right before the Mayor was elected, when a bomb shook the penthouse of 1939 Kane St., Edward Nashton had taken to the airwaves to out Thomas Wayne as a cold-blooded killer. Not long after, the man who'd pulled the trigger was shot dead in the street before he could be brought to justice. That would bring anyone out of hiding.
Wayne Enterprises inevitably challenged the claims, Bruce Wayne had taken to his father's defense in an impassioned press conference that even you tuned into, and Gotham General made the decision to keep his father's statue in the courtyard.
It was never ruled out, though. After all, all of the Riddler's other exposés were true. But there was no paper trail. Nothing but he said, he said, and with everyone involved dead, it was Bruce Wayne's word over a zealot who'd flooded the city.
You take a sip from your glass to let Alfred ruminate on his reply. He doesn't raise his eyes to you again, "Precisely."
"I've been keeping a close eye on him in the news. His philanthropy this past year has been really remarkable." That was a bold-faced lie. You'd been keeping an eye on him for the past few weeks. Everything else you knew about Bruce Wayne's newfound appreciation for the poor and needy came from Em. "Some of the people at the party, however..."
"Councilman Roberts, was it? He was awfully spirited from what Master Bruce relayed to me."
The very mention of his name makes your blood pressure spike, "The guest list was very diverse."
Alfred transfers the cutting board to the sink, "Master Bruce has his reasons. He's become rather fixated on the state of political affairs. First behind the scenes, and now..."
"Now center stage." You finish for him, swirling your glass. "Think he'll run for office one day?"
Alfred looks somewhere between amused and horrified.
It would be natural. Thomas Wayne had almost done it. Why not Bruce? It'd be a comeback story for the ages if someone didn't try to kill him again.
"I'd rather he keep out of it. Being in a position like that has never been his true calling."
"Yeah? And what is?"
Alfred doesn't look like he wants to say. He scrubs at the surface of the wooden board, absentmindedly brushing the same spot clean over and over. His eyes catch yours for a split second, just as quick as the smile that he flashes when the answer finally spills out of him, "Altruism."
You and Alfred don't talk much more until Bruce comes down. Dory joins you all at the table soon after and, rather awkwardly, you find yourself having a quiet lunch with the Waynes. Hooks abandoned. Fish not caught.
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You wait for what feels like hours, but eventually he arrives.
His car is an absolute monster. It growls as it pulls up beside you in the withering glow of street lights, and if it weren't for said lights, it would blend into the shadows almost completely. The raindrops that dot the hood help catch the light on the deep black paint job.
You look for the door handle but it opens for you. Inside, you see Batman with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the gear shift. You swallow. This is new territory.
You throw your bag in first, then climb into the passenger seat, very aware of the pocket knife stuffed in the pocket of your scrubs. You go to close the door and it closes for you all on its own. Behind you is an intimidating engine that vibrates through your every bone and muscle, and when you look to the driver, he is staring straight ahead. A few beats pass as you try to keep your teeth from chattering, "Do the seat belts move on their own, too?"
Batman looks at you from his peripheral. Then—twisting in his seat—he reaches across you to retrieve the seat belt, dragging it across the front of your body until it clicks at your side, "'Fraid not."
Despite all the rumbling of the car engine, it's a smooth ride through the city. Even the littering of pot holes and uneven pavement doesn't ruin it. Still, it does nothing to quell your nerves.
You feel small, sinking into the passenger seat built for people wearing a lot more armor than you. You also note that there's nowhere for your legs to go underneath the seat. You bump the solid obstruction with the backs of your sneakers but can't make out what it is.
There are other weird things you notice when you start looking. Starting where your shoulders rest are six holes going down the seat, three on each side, all a foot apart from the last. You press your finger into one of the holes and feel hard metal on either side of the gap. Upon further inspection, Batman's seat has it too, "What are these for?" You ask.
Batman doesn't need to look at you to know what you're messing with, "Restraints."
You recoil, "I beg your pardon?"
"I could show you."
"I'm- sorry, what..." You bend at the waist to feel the metal plate beneath the seat and recognize that there are holes along the sides there too.
"In case I need to bring someone along who's less than willing. Metal bars are installed in the seats. Only I know how to activate them."
"Why your seat too?"
"In case someone tries to steal the car," he makes a turn into one of the boroughs and you realize you're getting close to your destination, "but I've considered putting a trunk in the back for... passengers."
"And where do you get the money for such... modest mods?"
At that, Batman does not answer you. You figured he wouldn't. There were a hundred answers he could give you that would surely, most definitely give his identity away. It doesn't stop your brain from beginning to wander.
It doesn't get very far before you're pulling up into the alley between two houses, shrouding the car in the shadow of Joey Russo's home.
It's not as nicely kept as the other houses on the street, and its age doesn't do it any favors. A lot of the off-white paint has been chipped off or discolored over the years. There's a piece-of-junk car in the driveway that looks like it works, but just barely. The lawn has outgrown the neighbors', kept at bay by patches of dead grass where you can tell someone had gone to town with weedkiller. There are old, faded garden decorations around the front porch. Some gnomes with their ceramic hats caved in, a wind chime missing most of its chimes.
You're wandering out of the alley and into the harsh, orange beam of the streetlight when you feel Batman's hand roughly drag you back into the dark. You're about to ask what the problem is when your eyes catch the side of the house.
There's a little window with its grey curtains shut, a dead flower limp on the sill. Next to the window is a backdoor cracked open.
You do not protest when Batman presses up against the side of the house and moves you behind him. There are dogs barking, cars driving by, faint sirens in the distance, but you can't hear anything from inside.
You watch as he presses his hand to the door and slowly pushes it open, peeking in from a safe distance into the dark. Most of the windows are blocked out by sheer curtains, and no light in the house is on from what you can tell.
Batman is a hulking thing, always, but every step is feather-light on the weathered floorboards as you both enter. There's no sign of Russo, even though the house feels warm. Like it'd been lived in recently. Your heart picks up as you swear you see a shadow move in the corner of your eye, but it's just the wind picking up one of the curtains.
You so desperately want to ask him what he's thinking but your voice is stuck in your throat, the thought crashing down upon you that you are here, that somewhere in this house is the man who had ensured you'd be here today (in nearly all the ways that that could apply), and that it was not so far behind you as you might've hoped.
And were you to get an answer—any answer—from Russo tonight, it would not change the fact that your name was still on Bruce Wayne's payroll.
You feel sick to your stomach all over again.
When the living room is clear, you're simultaneously relieved and terrified when Batman leaves you to scope out the adjoining dining room. The house is silent aside from your breathing.
It's a few moments alone that does it; you start to feel another wave of anxiety. It had been a few minutes, hadn't it? Maybe. A minute at least. You're not confident enough to go looking for Batman, and you fear calling out to him would just detrimentally unsettle the atmosphere. You listen for where he might be, any creaks in the floors boards, but there's nothing.
Just as you're about to step into the dining room yourself, something moves out of your peripheral again. Only this time, you realize too late that it's not the curtain.
You barely register the pain at first—the skin of your upper arm splitting in half—but then it's white-hot and you're choking on a cry before you can stop yourself. Something had rushed at you, a person. You shakily touch where they'd cut you.
Was it a knife? It had to be, with how cleanly it tore your skin. Your brain jumps to the next question: was it covered in anything? Would you get infected?
You stumble back and reach into your pocket for your own knife with a little more urgency. The person rushes at you again with something akin to a battle cry and you narrowly dodge their raised weapon, only the sound of it ripping through the curtains tells you it wasn't just another delayed reaction.
You slash at their back while they're still turned and manage to actually make a cut before jumping back. It's not enough, though. Your attacker spins and even though the light has now turned them into nothing but a silhouette, you can feel their crazed gaze on you.
It feels boiling. It feels personal.
Their breathing is ragged, panting from more than just the fight. It sounds like they're foaming at the mouth, rabid and wild, as they spit at you, "You should've died with your little bitch of a friend when you had the chance."
The anger in their voice stuns you before the words do.
They come at you again and you sidestep them once more but it's staggered, allowing the tip of their weapon to slice your cheek open. When you cry out this time, you yell for Batman.
You don't have any concept of time right now, but as you fall to the floor, you swing at your attacker's ankle, hoping to cut a vein, when you feel Batman rush past you and directly into your attacker.
They both crash into the coffee table, glass and wood shattering in a cacophony. You watch through burning eyes as the two wrestle each other, keeping your hand pressed to your arm to still the bleeding even as it slips against the skin. Batman has them pinned when your attacker starts wildly kicking, and one of his feet hits Batman hard in the leg. You don't expect it to be the leverage he needs, but it's enough to daze Batman—he looks suddenly awash with pain—and that's all the attacker needs to slip out from beneath him and head out the back door.
Your heart stutters. How hard did he have to hit him through the suit for it to cripple him so easily?
Batman tries to recover, tries to deploy the grapple gun in his gauntlet to trip him, but he slips into the alleyway just narrowly. Batman is after him in an instant.
You force yourself up from the floor to follow after him, when you realize that within all that commotion, no one else in the house made themselves known.
You stumble up the staircase, haphazardly swiping at the wall for light switches that might help clear the spots in your vision. "Russo!" You call out, and your voice is shaky. You realize you're trembling.
There are too many doors on the upper floor but there is one that is cracked open. You rush toward it first, shoving it open with your good shoulder.
And there, to confirm your worst suspicion, is proof.
You've had enough training in your field not to immediately vomit at the sight even as the smell overpowers you. He's lost weight and he looks smaller than he had been when you were just sixteen. Laying on the floor, drenched in his own blood, Detective Joey Russo isn't the crystal clear picture you'd preserved in your head these past 17 years.
You make it only a few steps before falling to your knees beside him. It's clear he'd passed from the stab wounds not long before you'd arrived and there's just so many. His chest, his stomach, his arms and legs and skull—his face had taken the worst of it. Whoever had done this had been furious.
You can barely bring yourself to stare into his eyes but when you do, you sob. You try to look anywhere else but your eyes just catch on pictures of him on the wall, happy, smiling, with a wife and a kid who leave no traces of themselves in this room.
It's just him. All alone here.
You sway a bit as you reach a hand up to shut his eyes but the blood on your fingers stops you. You realize that you've left a trail on the way up here, and as your eyes retrace back to the bedroom door, you see Batman standing there looking down at you.
He doesn't ask, just walks over to you and hoists you up to stand, forcing you to lean into him for support.
The time between him finding you and the walk downstairs passes in a muddy amount of time and you're stumbling into the hood of his car as your head swims.
You must be losing a bit of blood.
Batman presses a hand to your arm. His other hand goes to your cheek and you flinch away at the sting.
You watch him dizzily. He reaches down to the bottom of his cape and rips a strip off to tie around your bicep. "GCPD is on the way. We have to get you stitched up."
"If only there were a surgeon around." Batman doesn't find your joke funny. Neither do you, all things considered.
The doors open on their own again and he sits you in the passenger seat, leaning it back as far as it'll go before buckling you in. You think you feel his hand linger on yours before he abandons you for the driver's side. The thrum of the engine is the least of your concerns now.
You're halfway down the street when you mumble, "He said... I should've died."
"Stop talking." He doesn't say it with menace, or at least not the kind where you actually mean it. It's all bark and... worry, you think.
You hate the smell of your own blood, which is funny because it smells about the same as everyone else's and usually that's just fine for you. Or maybe you're still smelling Russo's.
You think of your attacker. About what they said. That you should've died with your "little bitch of a friend". It's too convenient to not be—one of the street lights you pass is far too bright and you have to shut your eyes to keep the thought going—be about her. And why her? Why Russo? Why now?
17 years of nothing. And now everything at once.
"Russo," your voice is weaker, "we gotta go back for him."
"Stop talking! I'm trying- shit." This is the most panic you've ever heard in Batman's voice before. The most fear. He hadn't been this worried when he was dying on your living room floor. "Please." He begs.
You're of sound mind enough to know what he's really asking. You should know, even as you sway in and out of consciousness.
You conserve what little energy you have left to focus on the side of his face. His jaw forever clenched. Eyelashes long enough to catch the city light on. And although it's not entirely clear from the angle you're laying at, you search out the blue of his eyes as his face turns to look at you. It's the last thing you see before you give in.
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When you come to, you are laying in a hospital bed with a throbbing arm and an equally throbbing cheek. Your scrubs are still in tact, even with the bloodstains down the front and sides. The knees of your pants are stained too, and you are harshly reminded that this blood doesn't belong to you.
The next thing you notice is Em sitting in the chair beside your bed, head thrown back in a peaceful nap. She must've heard—or seen, you don't recall getting from the car to here—and came to keep you company. You'd reach over to tap her knee if it were your good arm's side. The next thing you notice after that is that there is someone else in the room with you two.
It takes a second, but you remember him: a kindly face even with the cloud of disturb that hangs over him. When he sees you're awake, he gets up from his position against the wall and approaches the other side of the bed, "Detective James Gordon," he introduces himself, nodding to you, "we met at the precinct before."
Your voice comes out scraggly, "I remember you."
He flashes you a quick smile, "Well, I'm happy to see you're alright. You lost a bit of blood, but your friend—" A pen materializes in his hand and he points it at Em, still dead to the world, "—said it was just a few stitches."
"Are you here to arrest me?"
He's trained well enough not to look shocked, but you see his expression shift, "Why would I arrest you?"
You swallow, looking down at your scrubs once more, "I assume you're not here to talk about our mutual friend."
James nods. "We examined Joey Russo's home. We found, among other things, your DNA on the scene. Blood in the living room and... upstairs bedroom."
You pinch your pants leg, trying to get at the skin so you could keep the churning of your stomach at bay. Anything to distract yourself from the very vivid image of Russo's lifeless eyes.
James clicks his pen and you focus back on him. He's got a small notepad in his other hand with a few words already written down. You wonder what he's written about, what he's thinking about you right now. "From what I understand, you dropped by the precinct recently asking for the whereabouts of Russo and were denied given his retirement. You mentioned that you were inquiring about an old case involving yourself, is that correct?" James continues after your nod, "You brought this up to the Batman too."
"Yes," your voice wobbles, "I asked if... he could help me."
"And?"
"He said no."
"But you were both there tonight. So, what happened? Why were you looking for Joey Russo?"
You lean up on your good arm, allowing your legs to swing from the bed so you could sit upright in front of James. One glance over your shoulder tells you Em is still asleep, "I told him it was urgent. I had reason to believe confidential information about the case had been leaked to someone. I wanted to confront him, find out if he... was the one that leaked it."
"The case being part of your sealed juvenile records, correct?" James casts a look over you, somewhere between pitying and skeptical, "given your involvement in this situation, I was given access to this record. Detective Russo worked your case 17 years ago, and was, in fact, the person to get your records sealed in the first place. Along with... three others, I believe. And you believed someone had unauthorized access to it?"
"I know- I know. I know they did."
"Can you tell me the name of this person?"
Detective Gordon seems trustworthy. Batman trusts him, you can tell that much. It's just the saying it out loud part that trips you up, "My, um... my employer. Not Rudy, but Bruce Wayne. I'm his personal doctor. I became aware he had this information and wanted to check with Russo myself before I said anything."
James doesn't bother hiding his intrigue this time. His eyebrows shoot up a bit when you say Bruce's name, "Right. And... do you have proof that he has this information? A picture or a recorded conversation, a witness even?"
Of course not. You'd been happy enough to get out of that penthouse without being caught. Your silence is answer enough. James writes something down on his notepad and nods at you, "Well, a single person—especially not a civilian employer—should be able to access something that's not public record. Even Russo couldn't, having been retired. I can't imagine Russo was the one to give him that information unless he just had a file lying around, and I doubt he did. He never revisited that case before he retired in any capacity."
"Is there any way Bruce could have accessed it?"
"There's plenty of ways if you have an in somewhere and the leverage to do so, but this is all speculation. I can look into it, though. See if anyone's accessed the file recently, sniff around. If you come across anything solid, let me know."
You doubted you would. After that night, those files had probably gone into a room with lock and key.
"There was something else that I wanted to talk about, though," James shifts closer to you, "Our mutual friend assured me that you've never been to Russo's house before tonight, and that he had been with you the entire time you were there. From what I understand, there was someone else in the house with the two of you. Do you have any idea who he might've been?"
"No, I... I didn't really get a good look at him."
"What about his voice? Could you describe it?"
"Uh, young. Sounded about my age." Your fingers grip the bedsheets tightly, "He said something. He said that... I should have died. Along with my friend."
James' eyes narrow on you, "Your friend?"
"Alex," you choke out, feeling a tear spill out of your eye, "I know he was talking about Alex."
"Hm. You think that's why he attacked you? He knows you?"
"But I don't know him."
James flips his notepad back a few pages, "There were eight people there the night Alex Villanueva was murdered, including herself and you: your three friends, none of whom have stepped foot in Gotham since 2019. The shooter, Natalie Young. Her younger brother, Dimitri Young. And a fellow member of their gang, Lucien Goulding. Natalie was killed in a shootout 17 years ago, Goulding is currently in prison, and Dimitri... he should be serving life in prison right now."
Your brows furrow, "Should?"
"He and several other inmates were reported missing from Arkham five days ago."
Your mouth goes dry. You squirm in bed with a sudden urge to take off running and never look back. Maybe you'd aim for your mom and dad's in New Jersey, or maybe the Atlantic.
You remember when Dimitri was a head shorter than you, had yet to sprout up so young. You remember what it was like looking at this kid not much younger than you, green eyes watering, curled up on the concrete as Alex kicked and punched and bled him until he could barely limp home.
And how he looked when Natalie came for you. Still a kid.
"Bat said he was about 5'11, 210 pounds, green eyes, shaved head and tattoos. A bit different from what he was when you last saw him. It makes sense you don't remember."
"He wanted to kill me." You whisper.
James—he's an angel, really—gives you a moment to let it sink in. "We want to put a security detail on you. We have strong reason to believe Dimitri was the one to kill Russo, and it's very possible you were next on his list, but I don't think he anticipated you being there tonight... which might've saved your life."
You shake your head, "Batman saved my life."
The detective smiles, "Twice in a row might make him your guardian angel." The both of you turn when you hear Em stir awake from behind, and James goes to dismiss himself, "Well, thank you for your time. You should probably be heading home to get some rest soon, but if you think of anything else, please don't hesitate to let me know." James hands you a business card, "And I'll look into Bruce Wayne for ya. Could be something there. Our mutual friend might know. Take it easy."
"Wait," you call, before he can get out the door, "Russo. He had a- a kid. A son. And a wife, I think. They weren't at the house. Are they okay?"
James looks a little pained as he answers you, "No... uh, his son was murdered a while back. His ex-wife's been living back home in Boston ever since. She's been notified."
There isn't much else to say after that, so he ducks his head as a final goodbye and exits the room, raincoat swaying behind him.
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You're awoken by an incessant ringing about 24 hours later.
Popping one eye open, your brain takes in the shadowy lighting of your living room, blinds still halfway up from when you'd first returned home early that morning. Judith had caught you slumped outside of your apartment door and flanked by two officers—roused by the sound of you coming home late—and had helped you to your couch, poured you a glass of water, and stayed with you until the painkillers put you to sleep.
Frankly, you gave yourself permission to lie and rot today. But the ringing would not stop.
You grab your phone, uncaring of the caller, and accidentally press it to your cut cheek with a hiss, "Yes?"
You expect it to be Em, checking in to see if you were still alive. You also expect it to be your mother, checking in to make sure you still planned on staying in Gotham. You even expect it to be Rudy (who had been just about on the verge of tears when he saw you with a busted cheek).
It's none of them. "Can I see you?"
You place the voice instantly, actually going breathless. "I'm- what's... what's wrong?"
Sitting up hurts like a bitch and you realize that you're about two hours past your scheduled Tylenol. You inhale through your teeth and try to gather your bearings.
"I got... stabbed," Bruce sounds guarded, but it shockingly doesn't come across like that's because of the stabbing, "I need your help."
"Jesus! You need to call 911. Or- or get one of your ten million drivers to take you to the ER, or call a fucking helicopter to-"
"The tower, can you come? Now?"
You weren't supposed to be driving. The cops had brought you home, and you very much did not want to ask for that favor. You drop your forehead into your palm, massaging your temple with your thumb, "How deep is it? Did you stop the bleeding?"
"I've got something on it. I just need you to stitch me up."
You glance around the room, hazy, and reach for your water, "I'll need a ride. Can't drive right now."
"He's waiting outside." The line goes dead.
You don't believe him until you go to open your apartment door and see a suited man leaned against the opposite wall, nodding politely at you. You must look like you've sprung from the dead after last night, but no one makes a comment about it. The two officers on either side of the door nod to you, "Says he's a driver for Bruce Wayne and that you'd know what he was here for. His ID checks out, but we're gonna have to tail him if you go with him."
You shut the door and look through the peephole, but the driver looks comfortable waiting.
You'd wonder how Bruce knew you'd need a ride before you said as much, but it was clear by this point that he knew everything about you.
You probably shouldn't go. Not until Gordon looked into him, or Batman. Right?
You root around in your coat pocket for the phone Batman had given you and send a quick text to his number.
Going to Wayne's. Tell Gordon to hurry up with a warrant.
You pop two pills and pull on your coat.
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When the elevator doors part, you drag yourself down the hallway, up the stairs, and into the main room. Alfred nor Dory is anywhere to be seen, but with it being past 10 at night, you can only imagine they're off to bed by now. There is just a single light coming from the kitchen, and when you turn to the breakfast table, there is Bruce. Waiting.
He doesn't look at you when you approach, however. One of his hands is holding stained gauze under the neck of his shirt, and the other is gripping the table with white knuckles. You wash your hands at the kitchen sink, then round up on his left side where he's pressing against the back of his shoulder, just out of reach for him to stitch himself. You fear he would've tried had you not answered the phone.
Or, God forbid, come to you.
He looks up when you're right in front of him, scanning you quickly, "Are you okay?" He doesn't sound all that surprised to see you like this. It raises the hairs on the back of your neck.
You pull the neck of his shirt down to survey the damage, for lack of a good explanation, "I'm certain I've got a better excuse than you." Bruce shifts when you move his hand away, exposing the bloody flesh that makes you wince. You set your things on the table and command him to lift his shirt. He hesitates. "What is your excuse?"
"Got caught off guard."
"Where?"
Slowly, Bruce slips his shirt off, allowing you to see the full expanse of his back. There was the angry red stab wound, but there were other things too: moles and beauty marks scattered across his skin that paled in comparison to the several jagged lines across his shoulders and lower back—pink raised skin where it looked like he'd been cut before. Cuts that had healed years ago. You hover your fingers above one and realize they're shaking. "You never told me you and Alfred fight with knives."
"We don't," he glances at you over his shoulder but looks away just as quickly, "some of those scars are from martial artists I trained with in Thailand."
"Some?" You see so many, and those are only the ones that leave visible scars.
"Others are from the Russians."
You begin to lightly clean around his wound and ready the anesthesia but, despite the fact that he cannot see it in your hand, he waves it off completely, "Are they... the people who gave you this?"
He goes silent again. You feel like you should stop asking questions at this point, but they itch at your throat.
He wouldn't call you here to fix this unless he had nowhere else to go.
When you make the first stitch and he doesn't flinch, your eyes flit to his other scars. Martial arts training, he said. The second stitch and still no response. On the third stitch, you press your thumb against the edge of the wound and push down. He actually swears at you as blood dribbles out of the wound, and the hand that had been gripping the table reaches back to grab your lower thigh, effectively bringing the operation to a halt.
You shove his hand off, "What the hell happened? Your hands, your leg—that was easy to explain. But this?"
He has the audacity to glare at you over his shoulder, "I don't pay you to ask questions."
"No, you don't. And yet you could've hired anyone but you hired me. Even though..." You trail off, eyes blazing, because you're not feeling that confident, "the least you can do is tell me what happened."
Bruce holds your gaze until you feel your knees begin to wobble in place. For once, he doesn't look like a wide-eyed, nervous animal in front of you. He looks angry.
Then it's gone. Bruce rolls his shoulders back and you watch the needle, still hanging by its thread, roll against his muscles. More blood seeps from the wound as your hands itch to get back to work. "One question," he starts, looking away from you, "the night of the party, upstairs. You told Alfred no one got on the elevator. But you did, didn't you?"
You swallow. "He said it was broken."
"Be honest with me and I'll be honest with you."
"About anything?"
From behind, you can see Bruce's jaw twitch just so, "Everything."
You step closer. Taking your needle, you resume the suture, "A question for a question, then. To keep it fair."
"Alright."
"Tell me what happened."
"I was looking for someone."
"Who were you looking for?"
"That's another question."
"Fine," you try not to take your frustration out on his skin, "I did. Who were you-"
"Dimitri Young." You still in your stitching. It feels like your heart is inside your head, thumping against your skull with every beat. "What did you see down there?"
You have to rake your petrified brain for context, having nearly forgotten everything that had come before... before... "I- I was... nothing." Bruce hisses through his teeth and you realize that you're just pressing the needlepoint into his skin mindlessly. "Files. A computer. A car underneath a sheet, some tools, a motorbike. A TV playing the news." You don't bother with hiding it now, "How do you know about Dimitri?"
"Because I know about you. Why did you go down there? Not knowing what you might find?"
It takes all that you have to keep the burning tears at bay, "Because I don't trust you. Because everything about this has felt off. I needed to know what you were hiding. What are you gonna do with what you know?"
Bruce takes a moment as if he's thinking about it, but when he answers you, you're for once certain of his honesty, "Nothing. I might set it on fire, if that's what you want."
"You could have another copy lying around. Or a way to access it again."
"I could. But I don't. And I wouldn't want to." He turns his head over his shoulder and you are frozen under his stare, "I'm being honest with you."
"How did you get it?"
"That's another question."
You complete the next few stitches with a little more force than needed, "Then ask me something."
"Why did you take the job if you didn't trust me?"
You laugh humorlessly, "Because I knew the pay would be fucking ridiculous. How did you get my file?"
"You wouldn't have turned me down the first time if that were true."
"Answer me."
"Be honest with me, I'll be honest with you. Why'd you take the job?"
"Because-" You choke, "you... sent me those ridiculous flowers and a handwritten note." Bruce's head tilts, you choke out more, "And when I asked you why you offered me the job, you said that it was because I noticed you were hurt when no one else did. And I said it felt like more than that. I think- I have been trying to get an answer."
Bruce studies you. He must believe you because he finally answers your question, "Russo had nothing to do with it."
"Who did you pay to get it for you, then?"
"That's-"
"Just ask me, God damn it." You finish off the suture and bite off the thread.
"Why did you turn your life around?"
You'd thought about that a lot after that night. The simplest answer was right there, but if you were being honest with yourself (and you were being more honest than you would've liked tonight), you really didn't want to die. "I wanted to live. That's what I'd always wanted. Even though I... really didn't act like it. I never wanted to live more until that moment." This time when you lock eyes with Bruce, you don't want him to look away. Maybe it's because he's defeated you, broken your pride, whatever. Right now, you want to see him.
You don't have to ask again. You watch him rise from the table, flexing his back again, and though you want to scold him for irritating his stitches mere seconds after you've finished them, you just... don't have it in you.
And then he's standing face-to-face with you.
You think the lights and painkillers are deceiving you at first, but this close, you are certain: he is littered with scars and wounds color-picked from late twilight skies. His back doesn't even look this bad. It's always been more than bruised knuckles and leg sprains.
And it's familiar. All of it. Bruises and cuts new and old, the shape of him, the color. The stab wound is new but all of this is months (years) in the making.
The closer you get, the more it knocks the wind out of you. Your eyes follow the length of his torso and then—your fingers press against his side, up against a healed gunshot wound. You brush your thumb against it. It makes you feel nauseous.
You look up and he's looking at you. Defeated. Relieved. You can feel the denial creeping in but it all clicks into place, doesn't it?
The bullet wound, the limp, the job offer, the sprained leg. You couldn't see it because, frankly, they couldn't be any more different from each other. And yet...
Bruce's hand covers yours and keeps it there.
That damned bullet brought you together. It had brought Batman to you, it had brought you to Bruce, and it had solidified in no small way that whatever had led you to this moment in time was years in the making. All because you wanted to live.
"Come with me." And Bruce leads you upstairs.
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17 years ago.
"I think it could be good," Alex holds up the bottle to you, "if you're down."
You hate the taste of whatever she's giving you but it does make you tingly. You take a big swig and set it between you on the concrete, "You know I'll go wherever you go."
Alex grins, "That's the spirit!"
On Tuesdays, you and Alex like to watch the cars go by from the alley. It's between a Thai restaurant and a laundromat so it always smells good; if it's not the fabric softener, then it's the pho. It's where you always find her. After a few heart-to-hearts spent curled up on the ground with her here, it became "your" territory.
Claiming it didn't stop people from holing up inside and standing around a barrel fire, nor did it stop the laundromat owner nor the line cooks from coming out to smoke and take out the trash. But it did mean that you both liked it here. For lack of other places to go.
"You know that piece of shit from the Vipers won't take no for an answer?" Alex kicks at a rat that scuttles past, making sure it wouldn't take a bite out of her ankle.
"You're very popular, it's not a surprise."
"Shit, it's just cause they know my parents don't give a shit where I go. They're all like, 'Come join us! You could be one of our best! We'll pay you more in a day than you'd make stealing in a week!' but they don't talk about all the kids floating in the river when they try to do better for themselves."
"Like you'd let someone boss you around." You giggle, and Alex beams.
"No way in hell! I love my independence. See, I can take whatever I want whenever I want. Those sad fucks in the Vipers have to answer to some... some random guy they rarely ever see. Why would I want that?"
You'd seen the kids the Vipers recruited. There was no age limit, some as young as nine were happily making deliveries. It used to be a joke in your school that any kid with a front door would end up in the Vipers eventually.
You wondered if you would've ended up there too, had you not been with Alex.
Your makeshift gang of two which had grown by three in the last few months was less organized than the Vipers. It didn't pay unless you pulled your weight, and most of it was at Alex's discretion. For the most part, none of you moved without her. She was the head, the leader, and the only reason you could afford your new winter boots this month.
And you would truly follow her wherever she went.
You watch a few more cars pass. You press your head to the brick and let the sounds of the city light your nerves. That is until you feel a breeze where Alex had once been. You open an eye and find her inching further into the alley. "Hey," you call, but she turns and shushes you so your next words come out in a whisper, "where you going?"
She frantically waves you over.
You don't see what she's looking at until you get about halfway down the alley, but the voices are crystal clear at this point. There's a woman and a young boy standing off behind a dumpster, but when the woman catches sight of you and Alex, she shoves something into the boy's hands and dips around the corner. The boy, flustered, is just barely able to put it away before Alex is grabbing him by the arm and dragging him into the light.
It becomes clear that he's not a young boy. He's about your age, maybe off by a year or two, but so thin and lanky that his puffer jacket engulfs him completely. Alex yanks his sleeve down to reveal a poorly done tattoo of a snake going up his upper arm, jagged and unfinished like he'd run off in the middle of getting it done. It didn't seem too far-fetched an idea: the guy looked 92 pounds soaking wet.
"You're on the wrong turf, kid." Alex warns, but you know her tone of voice is too final to be a warning.
The guy yanks his arm back, "Fuck off."
You realize what he was fumbling with when the woman had run. A small bag of something white, and a wad of cash sticking out of his pocket. You snort, "Dealing for the Vipers a little far from home, aren't you? You must be new."
The guy tries to escape but Alex grabs the hood of his jacket and drags him back, "We'll overlook the trespassing if you give us a cut."
"Leave me alone. This place doesn't belong to anyone." But as soon as he says it, Alex takes a hold of his dirty blond hair and yanks his face up to look at her. You go to grab his money while he's distracted but you don't expect him to brandish a knife until he slashes at you. He misses, but it sets Alex off.
She uses his hair to throw him into the side of the dumpster and you can see the thoughts rattling around his head upon impact.
"Right, everything belongs to the Vipers. Is that why your boss is still Falcone's little bitch?"
The guy is indignant against the taunts. He tries to slash at her but Alex is faster, always has been, and she has his wrist in a death grip before he can even get close. You watch her twist it back until he lets out a cry of pain, the knife clattering to the floor at your feet. You take it and hold it up to his neck, watching his eyes go wild between you and Alex.
"Give us the money and we'll pretend this never happened-" you start, but jump back when you feel something wet hit your cheek. You almost don't believe it, but the guy has some spittle dribbling down his bottom lip and a satisfied smile when you lock eyes with him again.
Alex wasn't just fast. You remember her standing up to your childhood bullies between classes and giving them shiners that she still bragged up to this day. It took a few years before you both stopped ending up with twice as many injuries, and a few more years after that before you stopped having bullies at all.
And this guy— maybe he didn't know what he'd gotten himself into and that extended to more than just this moment in time—was half the size of the guys Alex had beaten to tears in the past.
It does not surprise you that he crumbles to the ground with the very first punch to his gut. Alex hits hard first to make the fights quick, and so when her next punch lands on his nose, you know that something has been broken. With each kick to his gut, the tears free flow as if surely, the next hit will kill him.
You watch silently. Alex is unforgiving.
After a minute or two goes by, he is so beaten down that he wheezes every time he breezes. You're certain Alex has gone overboard but something in your heart swells at the thought that it was for you.
When all is said and done, you snatch the money from his jacket and he doesn't bother to stop you, head leaning against the ground as tears and blood and snot trickle into a puddle. For good measure, Alex snatches the drugs too, "Don't show your face in this alley again or you won't leave alive."
And you know this is a lie. A trick to make her bigger and badder. A threat that she would never follow through on. Because Alex always made herself look bigger, badder, scarier, deadlier. It's what protected you both on the streets. It's what made you follow her, what made your friends follow her.
Alex was everything, and you would follow her anywhere.
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You ride in silence together down to the terminus. You feel much the same as you did the first time. Bruce pulls back the gate and you spill out into the dark, but much like before, the lights and TV kick on. The News 7 jingle plays, Bruce pads over to mute it.
You watch him stand a few feet away from you, avoiding your eyes as they sweep the floor. There are those same tools scattered about, hubcaps stacked on top of tires, wires going from one side of the room to the other. It looks just like you'd last seen it, only the car that had once been covered by tarp is now on full display. It gleams in the overhead lights, as much of a monster in clear view as it was in shadow.
He really wasn't shitting you.
When you still don't say anything, Bruce walks over to his desk. Underneath it is a crate full of folders, and you realize he's getting yours when he turns and holds one out to you. You take it, inching closer. Without a word shared, Bruce pulls up something on his computer and you nearly flinch when your mugshot is reflected back at you on one of the screens.
"Your record isn't accessible unless I use a workaround which isn't... legal, but it's how I found your file without Russo. The GCPD doesn't know." You peer at him from the corner of your eye, urging him to explain, "I taught myself how to get in."
Your eyes are welling up with tears the longer you stare at the younger version of yourself. Bruce continues, "I know what the record says. That they traced back a few robberies to you and your friends over the years, and that you'd had a run in with a Viper the night you met Russo. You helped track them down, took out a portion of the gang's operation, and your record was sealed. That's all."
"They didn't trace all of them back to us," you start, not really wanting to talk, "just some. There were more."
Bruce seems to sense that as he closes the record, "It's your turn. To ask, I mean."
You look at Bruce in the face and hate the softness there. You can't be angry, or numb like you wish you could be. Your chest is all twisted up with emotion with no one feeling staying for long, even if it would flare up again every once in a while. "Did you know about me before or after you asked me to work for you?"
"Before. After that morning, I couldn't stop... thinking about you. Truth be told, me and Alfred have been doing this alone ever since I started. Before you, he was the one that would stitch me up, kept me out of doctor's offices where someone might talk. But he was also running the company for me, and taking care of me, and worrying about me. I knew if I was going to commit to this, I would need to try and stay alive, and I always meant to find someone but it wasn't an easy decision to make. Until I met you."
You know it's his turn now, but you can't help asking, "And you didn't think... maybe the kid with a record would be a bad idea?"
Bruce cracks a smile, "I mean, the stitches never got infected." You would've laughed at that if you were in a better mood. "I wasn't always so understanding. But I imagine someone who's dedicated the better part of their life to saving lives has more than made up for it."
Your head automatically shakes, "I can never make up for what I did."
"You don't have to tell me everything," he begins delicately, "but I need to know what Dimitri is after. I need to know what he's thinking. You're the only one who can help me."
You blink away a few tears and plop into a stool by his desk, dropping your head in your hands. The memories suffocate you, rushing at you like a flash flood. You don't know where to start, let alone what you want to tell him. An hour ago, you were certain he was caught up in a Gotham mob, planning to use your history as blackmail for... something.
You can't quite reconcile the feelings you have for Batman with the face of Bruce Wayne. Or who you thought was Bruce Wayne.
But he was right. You were the best chance at catching Dimitri. You were the only one who could make it up to Russo.
You swallow at the memory of Russo's mutilated body, but then... you remember him in that police station. When you were 16 and wishing you were dead. You suck in a sharp breath, "I met Alex when I was a baby. I mean, we've known each other for a long time- knew each other. She and I used to be attached at the hip. She protected me from bullies and I would sneak out at night to listen to her vent about her parents, about Gotham. She fucking hated it here. I did too.
"Alex and I learned that if you want to survive, you have to be powerful. So we became powerful. You might not think a pair of 14 year olds are all that powerful in the grand scheme of things but when it was just us against the world, it was addicting. When we wanted something, we just... took it. We started off pickpocket-ting on the streets, usually assholes who could afford to lose a hundred or two. And then we started robbing places, small-time stuff, you know. Run down houses, apartments, swiping out of registers when no one was looking. If anyone gave us shit, we just turned tail and ran. It was hard enough trying to make ends meet for our parents, and we liked the thrill of it. We rarely ever got caught.
"Eventually, some of our friends from school joined us and we become a little piece-of-shit gang. God. We were like... fucking 15, running around the city like we were so big and bad. My parents had no clue what I was really up to but they knew something was wrong. I didn't care. I was with Alex and I would follow Alex anywhere. We had this little alleyway, right? Between a Thai place and a laundromat. That's where I could always find her. And one day, we were fucking around and caught some guy dealing back there. Alex got pissed. We tried to take his money but he defended himself. I said something... he spit at me. And Alex just lost it.
"She beat him into the concrete and I just... watched. This guy, couldn't even throw a punch if his life depended on it, and she just wailed on him. And I watched. And I liked it. I felt powerful. We felt powerful. I know, a pair of jackass teenagers hurting people for fun? We were pathetic. But it didn't feel that way, being with Alex. She was my best friend."
The tears are free-falling now and you don't even bother to wipe them away. It would feel cowardly. You couldn't hide from Bruce now, not anymore. Not if he wanted to believe in you. "We didn't know who this kid was, other than the fact he was a Viper. A young one, a weak one. We didn't think he'd even last a week. Most kids like him end up getting disposed of by the boss anyway. And then all five of us were fucking around in that alley again when they showed up: the guy, Dimitri, and his sister Nat and this other kid. All of 'em Vipers.
"Nat wanted the money and the drugs back. Kid had a black eye so I guess he'd gotten shit from his boss about it. Alex was... indignant. Refused. For once, I begged her to give in but she just wouldn't fucking listen. Of course she wouldn't, do you know how much I enabled her? We were on top of the world, why would she give in? And she really pissed Nat off with that, but then she started mouthing off and then... Nat shot her. Right in front of me. It was instant."
Bruce remains incredibly still. His lips part to say something but nothing really comes out. You keep on going, "I was so shocked that I didn't even move when Nat turned the gun on me. It was like... I don't know, it was like I couldn't quite believe she was dead. But I understood what happened. Logically. I saw it happen. I saw the bullet in her brain. And when Nat turned on me, I think a part of me just... didn't want to have to think about it. Like a coward. If it wasn't for our friends pulling me out of the way, I wouldn't... be here. Next thing I knew, I was at the GCPD getting investigated for murder."
"They thought one of you did it?"
"The cops that brought us in, yeah. They just so happened to be around the corner when we ran into them. By that time, Nat and Dimitri had run off. The cops thought it was some fight between the five of us and that one of us pulled the trigger, but they couldn't find the gun. That's when Detective Russo showed up."
"And he offered to get you a plea deal."
You nod, sniffling, "He told me... he said that he could tell I'd never seen something like that before. There was no way I could've done it. And when I couldn't even finish the whole story without choking up, he said... he said that in exchange for our help catching Natalie, he would make sure all the crimes they tied back to us were sealed and expunged."
"What about Natalie? How did they find her?"
"The GCPD had been looking into the Vipers for months. Vipers almost exclusively recruit minors because they're more loyal, but there wasn't a way to get in without putting some innocent kid in danger. So they had us look into it. We found one of their hideouts by the docks. GCPD wanted to get the kids out and into the foster system since a lot of them were orphans, like Natalie and Dimitri. But the ambush didn't take. They got a couple kids out but... a few died, including Nat. Last I heard of Dimitri, he got tried as an adult for killing a cop during the shootout. That was life in Arkham."
Bruce shifts closer, "Until he got out. And he came looking for Russo."
"He was just a kid, Bruce," your voice cracks, "he was just a kid. He couldn't even defend himself. And because we were assholes we got his sister killed and we got him put away. He was just a kid."
"So were you."
Something about the tender way Bruce says that makes you sob. For years, you've looked back on that moment with so much guilt, knowing how lucky you were to make it out of that situation alive and unscathed. How lucky you were to be taken seriously, to be cared for, for a detective like Joey Russo to show you a picture of his kid in his wallet and tell you that he would hate to see them in your position.
You were lucky that you got to fix your grades and go to college, study medicine, save lives, be here. Natalie didn't get that. Dimitri didn't get that. Alex didn't get that.
"You said... you said you hated Gotham. Why did you stay?"
You wipe at your cheeks, "I- I honestly... I wanted to. My parents made a deal with me that we would leave for New Jersey after I graduated but I didn't want to leave. I couldn't. I couldn't leave Alex. I couldn't leave the city, after all I'd done to it. In it. I wanted to leave like my friends because the guilt was so much but I felt obligated to fix it. I wanted to help people. Not hurt them. And I've worked hard to do better. I just can't leave. I don't want to leave."
What surprises you is the hand on your face afterwards. Bruce cups his your cheek. His thumb brushes away some tears, and it feels so unlike Bruce even though it's him, even though he's the one who cradled and comforted you after being held hostage, even though he was the one that stood on your fire escape and confessed that he trusted you, liked you even. Your brain just sort of stops there. You melt like putty in his hand. You realize you've been craving a gentle touch like this for a while.
"Then you won't have to," Bruce casts his eyes to the side, looking at where you laid your file on the desk. You can see the cogs turning beneath his furrowed brow, "I'll make sure of it."
"How?"
"...You won't like it."
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taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @marina-and-the-memes @angxlictexrs @moonlightreader649 @geekyfer @thescarletfang @navs-bhat @yehet-moi-ohorat @bluestuesday @moony-toasts @sketchiethebear @trawberry-fire @hangmanscoming @agent-scorpio @julesjewelss36 @chonkercatto @dcgoddess @hollandorks @anotherr-fine-mess @miriamnox @dumdumsun @phoenixgurl030 @allgaslynobrakess​ @marvelouskatie​ @swangelss @millercontracting​ @aivlisdecolores @geeksareunique​
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dotster001 · 2 years
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Twisted Earth
Summary: What if we are the game characters in Twisted Wonderland? Gn!reader x Crowley/Crewel/Vil/Rook/Malleus/Idia
requested by @stygianoir
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6
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He plays your game instead of actually doing his work, but he thinks no one knows. (everyone knows)
You're his favorite character. He relates to you, (or he thinks he does, but he's a little delusional). If you got transported to your world, he thinks of how he'd treat you to whatever you want, and then you'd stay with him forever, constantly praising his generosity. Ah, bliss.
Despite you being his favorite, his gacha luck is very bad, and he only has two or three of your cards. He has a lot of your best friend, and even more of that one character that the game devs keep alluding you have a history with, but only a couple of yours. It drives him crazy. He's very pouty at the end of an event period.
He wrote one self insert fanfiction. Except it was the kind of self insert where the author gives the reader, a name, a personality, and a physical description. So it was just for him in the end.
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He got the game because he saw Crowley playing it in a meeting (again), and he became curious what the big deal was.
You're his favorite because you have the best color scheme and design.  He has an SSR from an event of you, and it made him like you even more because it gives him a major power boost.
He has that event SSR, and all your regular cards. He doesn't mind what he's got, he can just see the rest on the internet.
His latest fashion line was a collaboration with the game devs, specifically for your character. The devs are also thinking about having an event with his outfits. He is patiently awaiting the start date.
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He found the game when they reached out to his manager for an endorsement on his magicam feed. He played the game a little, and got your basic SSR in his first pull. 
He plays on his free time (which isn't very often), and mostly focuses on the main story, and your side stories from your cards. Like Crewel, he has an okay collection.
You just live such a different life from him, it's fascinating to see!  He likes to think about how much you could teach each other if you were real. He also just wants to pamper you, especially after that recent angst arc.
He may be lined up as a celebrity voice actor for season two of the game's plot, but we can't discuss that at this time.
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He has two best friends now. Gao Gao dragon kun, and you. 
Got the game after Lilia told him "all the cool kids are playing it". He plays it every day, multiple times a day.
He finds your character to be an endearing human, and thinks your adventures are cute. He likes you a lot, because he thinks if you were real you'd be his friend, and maybe something more? Oh! He gets butterflies thinking about it!
He doesn't have very good luck getting your cards, but he's fine with that! He takes good care of the ones he has.
He discovered fanfiction! He is the biggest fanfiction reader on any platform, and is single handedly funding all of his favorite writers. Has made many requests, from various authors, for y/n x lonely fae prince. He cries for angst, and giggles like a kid for fluff. Lilia has read all of his favorites.
He may or may not be working on a spell to make you real.
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If the Great Roi du poison endorses a game, you can bet that Rook will be playing it.
That said, he only opens the app once a month. He's too busy and distractible to remember to play more often, but you're definitely his fave character.
He likes to imagine just watching you. Seeing you explore a magical world after coming from a nonmagical one. He finds you to be a fascinating character, and is an avid theorist for all the lore!
He's a fanart drawer. You cannot change my mind. It's mostly of you, but sometimes, if he's feeling generous, he'll draw other people's favorite characters, or draw ships people have for you. But  he has to grit his teeth the entire time he does the latter. He'd rather draw you and him.
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He's been playing the game since it came out. He was on the developer's hype train months before the release, and downloaded it the second he could.
He has average luck, but he's also spent real money on the game just so he can have the entire collection of your cards. He's only missing one, because for that event he had worked himself into a gamer coma, and now he'll never forgive himself. He's waiting impatiently for the revival of that draw.
He simps for your character so hard. You have all the traits he's looking for in a significant other. Although, he is one of the realist gamers, who worries that irl you wouldn't like him. But he likes to pretend anyway, hugging his body pillow of you, and imagining you both cuddling every night.
He has bought every bit of merch he could find. He has read every x reader fanfic of you on the internet. He has commissioned several fan artists for pictures of you, him, and Ortho as a happy family. He has paid your voice actor on Magicameo terrible, I know I'm sorry to wish him a happy birthday in your voice. He's unstoppable.
....
Tag list- @shytastemakerthing
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hellfire--cult · 7 months
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Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader x Steve Harrington {Dark}
Read the first part here.
wc: 19.2 k
⚠️ +18 MDNI, Slightly dark fic due to wickedness of characters, primal play, mentions of bones breaking, teeth falling, tendons splitting, dark woods, blood, murdering insinuation, thoughts about killing, explicit sexual scenes, many forms of Paraphilia described inside the story in which none of them are dark or disgusting, owning kink, breeding kink, obsession, pegging, threesome, reader is a sadomasochist, Mafia!Eddie Munson
Plot: Once a year, the Haunting Ground event takes place, where the prize is a White Rabbit. This year, after so much planning, the Black Bunny from the Black Dragon mob makes an appearance to take her precious White Rabbit home.
Author's note: You asked for it, you got it. This is the first threesome I ever wrote in my life so please be kind, if you do not like threesomes do not read, and no, reader isn't the masochistic one here.
A huge thank you to the love of my life, @ghost-proofbaby for beta reading this, and taking time of her day for it, and correcting so many things in it. I wasn't confident enough this time to simply post this, so she helped me alot, I LOVE U BBY.
SEE STEVE'S OUTFIT HERE IN THIS AMAZING COMMISION @pach-inks DID FOR ME
You can always support me by hitting the reblog button with tags, and I always enjoy reading your comments!
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Run, Rabbit, Run
The rules are simple:
1- You must keep running, only hide when threatened.
2- You can hurt your opponent, make them unable to keep moving, but you cannot kill them.
3- No water and no food will be provided.
4- No weapons except makeshift ones you may create with natural materials you find.
5- The chase ends once everyone has tapped out of it or one person was chosen.
6- Medical care will take out injured opponents, as well as waiting outside every exit in the woods.
—--------------------------------------------
The ballroom looks exactly like that last time she saw it, but the perspective now is very different.
She always was at the top of the stairs, looking down at every single person that was willing to participate, to chase after her, to grab her, make her theirs. Pathetic. If only they knew her. If only they wanted her like he does. If only they cared for her like he does. If only they were half of the person he was. 
Eddie.
She giggles at the thought, heads turning to look at her quizzically, only to then gasp as they take a good look, because the tattoo that now lingers on her right arm was enough for them to know who she was. It was enough for everyone in the room to start whispering, to start feeling a chill going down their spine at the mere thought of being in the woods with her. It was enough to make many start to doubt their participation in this year’s Haunting Ground. 
She looked all over, seeing a deer’s head, a plain white face on some, black lace masks, a dog’s leather mask… She snickered when she saw Carver looking at her, his nose completely out of place, not having healed properly. He has balls to be back, she’ll give him that, but she will knock his teeth out today if he dares come between her and this year’s White Rabbit. 
She hummed as she walked to the center of the ballroom, a black dress falling on her body, tight in the upper part while it flowed loosely on the bottom, the length of it only going mid thigh, not reaching her knees. Some black sport shorts cover her underneath, but her feet were completely bare. But the one thing that she was showing off, moving her head side to side, catching everyone’s eyes, gulps being heard all around, was the mask on her face.
A black bunny.
The mask showed her lips, starting from the cheeks and going up to cover the rest of her face. Long black ears went upwards, and she couldn’t help the smile that came to her lips as she rocked back and forth on the heels of her feet, extending her arms towards her back, and holding her hands together for her tattoo to be seen. A Black Dragon. The distinctive mark that shows she belonged to the Boss of the Black Dragon mob. 
And now, everything made sense, everything clicked in everyone’s minds right now. She was going to win, no matter what happens tonight, nobody has the slightest chance. Nobody knew if they should quit immediately, give her the prize on a silver platter, but of course, there were many, mostly men, that wanted revenge. Revenge for wasting their time for three years. Revenge from being hurt and pained for trying to get her. Revenge because they don’t want him to win again. But she was there for a reason.
Because if she was playing, Munson’s Black Bunny, it means that they both wanted the prize.
She bit the inside of her cheek as she looked at the top of the stairs. She was waiting. She was already watering at the mouth at the thought of seeing that precious boy. That amazing pretty boy that was covered in freckles, in spots that she wants her tongue to trace. She wants that beautiful face to be covered in sweat, his neck and body full of bruises from the kisses that she wants to give him, mark him, and of course, share him. Oh, how she wants him to be wrecked by him as well. 
She trembles with the thought as her body flushes in anticipation, in the adrenaline, not noticing she was smiling almost maniacally towards the top of the stairs, making everyone eye her up and down once more. She can hardly wait to run her hands through those brown locks, grab onto his scalp, move his head around in any way she pleases… And boy did he sound eager about it as well. She knew about this man, she has known him for a couple of years now, and always found him so pretty, so cute, so angelic looking.
Oh how blind everyone was.
She knew who he really was. She knew he was like her, she knew he was as filthy and evil as her, and she knew Eddie would love him. Eddie will be so happy with him as well. Time can’t pass fast enough, because she has been hypnotized by those honey eyes ever since she met him to know he was the next man to be presented to her as a possible fiancé. The man just looked disgusted as his father talked with hers, but the only thing she could look at was the expanse of his neck, the freckles going down and down into the open collar of his shirt. 
And he was looking at her as well. There was a quick connection, a quick understanding, as a small grin spread on their lips and they were told to go and get to know each other in a private room. And oh man, was he cute. He responded so well when she whispered to him, and he would flinch at the slight touch of her fingertips, a blush on his cheeks appearing as she told him that she had no intention of marrying him, but that she would love to own him. That had sent a shiver down his spine, and when he bit his lip, she knew he was the next one to get. 
Even after she was caught herself, she could only imagine the moments she could spend with him, while Eddie might not be available to do so, and the moments where she could share this sun kissed man with her Demon. She really needed time to go faster because she waited for a whole year for this chase. Cryptic messages were sent to him, to prepare for this trial, and he knew perfectly well what it was, and now knowing that she was going to be a Chaser was the only thing that impulsed him to sign up as the White Rabbit.
Speaking of which,
“Welcome to this year’s Haunting Ground!” Unlike last year, there were fewer cheers this time, and she looked all over to see that many people had left the ballroom, a smile creeping on her lips because of how much fear she provokes in people. That was almost making her feel… excited. 
“Black Bunny, huh.” A woman talks next to her, and she turns around to see her wearing a simple lace eye mask, giving away who she was immediately. The daughter of Tom Holloway, and while he might look like the simple CEO for the New York’s Post, he was also working with the government and some mobs to not let out some news into the light, and covering them with something else that is not as grave, or critical. 
“Holloway.” Heather gives a snicker as she turns to look at her.
“How’s life now that you are someone’s pet?” That made the Black Bunny laugh, giggle, shake her head as if Heather just told the funniest joke in her life, but the other woman was simply looking at her as if she were going insane. Seconds later, her laughter slowly came down, and she leaned her face into Heather’s space.
“I’m far from that Holloway. But since you’re asking, it’s been very… fulfilling.” Heather sends the Black Bunny a disgusted look on her face as she takes a step away but it only elicits a giggle on the Bunny’s part.
“Why are you participating? You got what you wanted, so why not leave this opportunity for someone else?” Heather says and that made something in the Black Bunny snap. How fucking dare she? Why does she fucking think she has a chance? Why does she think that her precious White Rabbit would want her? Or anyone else for that matter? And that’s when the Black Bunny decided something. Something that made her face twist in a way that the baby hairs on Heather’s nape stood on edge at, and she felt her blood going cold as the Black Bunny kept staring at her.
The Black Bunny was not going to let Heather Holloway walk away unscathed. 
Heather Holloway was not even going to be able to walk.
“The rules being said, always remember the small device to call for assistance if injured or if you are trapped or simply want to tap out of the chase.” The Black Bunny’s attention immediately went back towards the stage, her eyes sparkling as she waited, taking a deep breath in as a single spotlight shone at the top of the stairs. “Here is this year’s White Rabbit.”
And a shiver went down her spine as many gasps could be heard through the room. The beauty emanating from this man was inexplicable. She didn’t know what to expect, but she could already feel her wetness sipping through her underwear just at the sight of his body, of his hair that spilled from the mask, from the white rabbit mask that filled just half of his face, and his white ears going upwards.
But oh, what he was wearing. The man was standing, bare feet, with some Arabic Harem see through pants, all flowy in white tulle, hugging his ankles tightly as well as his hips, and the pants had an open slit on the sides of his them, showing off his skin and also, you could see the outline of his underwear, a thong? 
No, a jockstrap. But that wasn’t what caught most people's attention. It was the white tight corset with silver embroidery and pearls that hugged his waist, showing his curves, and it stopped just underneath his pecs, showing his clean shaved chest to the crowd. Coming from the sides, at the top edges of the corset, were two silver straps, going over his shoulders, tightly, and the same see through fabric went all the way down his arms flowing, until they reached the tightness of silver elastic bands onto his wrists.
The man was absolutely beautiful. And he was all hers.
“Oh, what a beauty…” A man on her other side said, his silver horse mask shining with the lights, but she couldn’t find it in herself to feel angry at the man, because he wasn’t saying it in a lustful way, he was truly saying how beautiful he was. He was mesmerizing to the eye, and she knew everyone was no longer second guessing if they should indeed participate in the trial. At first many were doubtful because it was her, and there is a big chance that whoever gets in her way will get hurt… But now, seeing this man at the top of the stairs like this, doubt is very present in the room.
Her eyes scanned him, scanned his face, his lips, his eyes that could be seen through the mask’s eye holes. 
Everything about him was just so perfect.
He was such a treasure, so shiny in her eyes that she can hardly believe that at the end of the night she will be able to smear the lip gloss that’s on his lips, make him drool all over himself, make his spent spread on the sheets, maybe her mouth if she wants a taste. 
The freckles were giving him away, people whispering about why he was participating in such a trial, and even more so, be the prize of it. But the answer to all of that should be pretty easy, it should be of common sense knowing the Black Bunny was in the room as one of the hunters. Two and two were adding up in everyone’s minds, and a small smile was painted on her face all the while as she looked up at her ray of sunshine, dressed all in white. 
“Remember, injuring a contestant to the point of death is immediate disqualification and authorities will be called in the spot.” For some reason, the host was looking at her, pointedly, and she could only grin at him, giving a shake of her head. The man looked at the White Rabbit once again before saying, “Run, Rabbit, Run.” 
The lights went off for a few seconds and when they were on again, the White Rabbit was gone. Everyone clapped except for her, eager to start the hunt, and some eager to walk out of it before they were severely injured. The host started guiding everyone out towards the edges of the woods and the Black Bunny was whistling as she walked outside, looking at the all too familiar woods ahead of her. She smiled as she saw the familiar rock to the side, the oak tree that was crooked slightly to the left.
She knew these woods like the back of her hand.
She stood next to Heather Holloway, and on her other side was the man that called her White Rabbit a beauty. Unlike Eddie, she wasn’t going to just stand there and take them out. She was going to go for another tactic, one that will make everyone afraid of going in, and she knew it was going to work because people were already looking at her, peeking over the line to watch her every move.
From the corner of her eye, she saw the balcony, seeing the host walking out of it and looking at all the contestants. He gave her one last look, a glance, a warning. What a pain in the ass. She wasn’t going to kill anyone, and if she did, it was surely going to be after this hunt. His arm raised up, gun in hand, and her eyes settled once again towards the woods, a smile appearing on her lips as the adrenaline pumped in her veins. He was so close, so close, and he was hers.
BANG.
A shriek of laughter came out of her lips as she started skipping into the woods and everyone else stood still in horror. She was way too carefree in this. Too confident in herself. Chills ran down everyone’s spine, afraid of going into the woods now because she could be anywhere. She could be behind a tree, on a tree, behind a rock, under it, just plainly anywhere. A few people took a step back from the edge, and slowly started retreating back into the ballroom.
Heather Holloway was not one of those people, amongst others that believed the Black Bunny to be too cocky. Just because she was in the Black Dragon mob, and she was Eddie Munson’s favorite didn’t mean anything. They could still outrun her. Unlike the other times, in which the rules protected her from their attacks, they could hurt her now. But there was also another thing that made people stay in their place. Even if she were cocky, and even if they dared to hurt her, what awaits after doing that was much worse.
They could be subject of Eddie Munson’s torture.
It would be wise to back out. It would be even wiser to just give the White Rabbit to her, but only five people dared to get into the woods, out of the thirty one that were there. These five people that ventured inside were sick and done with the Black Dragon mob. Be it because their businesses failed because of them, or someone was killed by them. If they have to hurt the Black Bunny to get to him, to get him back at all, then so be it.
A man in an owl mask went right, rushing towards the woods as he jumped over boulders, fallen trunks, and his breathing was already heavy. He was scared, really scared, but he recognized who the White Rabbit was. The Emporium this man belonged to was a force to be reckoned with, the wealth the family possesses is immense, and the fact that he can blackmail them with their son was something that he was craving. The millions that could await him from running just a tiny bit, and getting his hands on him.
And poor man, he really was delusional. His face got immediately smashed as two feet collided into it, breaking his nose and front teeth, falling backwards from the impact, dizziness invading his brain as he coughed his teeth out onto the ground, along with his spit. He looked up and the last thing he saw was The Black Bunny, giggling at him as she dangled from a branch. She had waited for him, sitting on that branch, to run by and swing down to strike him at full force. 
She really didn’t intend for him to pass out, only break his teeth maybe, but she might have overdone it. She dropped from the branch with an ‘oof’ sound and she hummed, walking towards the unconscious man and getting the alarm out of his pocket. At least she was nice enough to press the button for assistance. Her head raised up when she heard grunting, somewhere in the woods, but the only female that was in the hunt with her as well, was silent. She knew the other men were going to take eachother out, and having Heather Holloway to herself made her grin wickedly.
She dropped the alarm on top of the man. Maybe she will send him a sorry note later on. Maybe. She turned on her heels and started running again, measuring her breath evenly, and that’s when she saw two men sprawled on the floor as one stood victorious with a branch in his hand. He was breathing heavily and as he turned around, she was in full view of him. It was the man that called her White Rabbit a beauty, but she made no move to go at him. 
“I was just after these two.” He says to her and she looks down to see their faces. They were almost smashed in, and gurgles of blood could be heard from their mouths. She looked up at him again.
“They will call the authorities on you. Don’t kill them.” The Black Bunny says softly to the man that was wearing a horse mask. He gave her a small chuckle and shook his head. She knew he wasn’t going to comply with that request. This man’s daughter was kidnapped and killed in front of him by the sons of the White Elephant mob, just out of spite because he had rejected loaning them money from his own company. 
“Holloway went left.” She gave him a final nod, and looked down at the men that were reaching for the assistance button. She walked towards them and snatched each of those devices, the men writhing in despair as they tried to ask for mercy. The Black Bunny threw them across the field and turned to leave the man to do his last business. 
She immediately went left, running back into the woods and then heading north. If she goes diagonally, she will encounter her. The Black Bunny stopped running suddenly as she spotted a small rock on the side, and it was sharp. Very sharp. A smile creeped on her face as she got hold of it in her hand and looked all over it. It wasn’t that big, but it was long, almost like a dagger. 
Heather Holloway was tired of running. There were no signs of the White Rabbit nor the Black Bunny. She was starting to become frustrated, because at least she wanted to try and give some piece of her mind to the cocky Munson slut. She stopped running and started walking now, trying to catch her breath as she kept her senses in complete alert. She wasn’t going to give up, no matter how silent everything was. She needed to keep moving, but her sense of direction was completely lost, and that made her nervous.
She heard a twig snap, making her turn around, only to find nothing out of the ordinary. Her heart was beating into her chest as she kept walking, fear setting in slowly because everything was just quiet, way too quiet. So she stopped, and tried to sharpen her sense of hearing, trying to listen to the sound of the trees, to the twigs on the floor if they snapped even if a little bit. But there was nothing,absolutely nothing… Until she heard a rustle from underneath a bush that was right next to her.
“I found you~”
The scream that Heather got out of her throat was out of a horror movie. Blood painted the soil red as she fell backwards, pain shooting up her legs as tears started welling up in her eyes. The Black Bunny got out from the bushes with the sharp stone in hand, tainted with the other woman’s blood, a grin on her face from ear to ear. She had cut both of her achilles tendons, just slicing over them completely. 
“WHAT THE FUCK–” Heather yelled as she tried to move her feet but she couldn’t even think anymore, the pain being too unbearable, and her writhing on the floor made the Black Bunny roll her eyes at her as she crouched down to look at her face stained from tears and dirt.
“You’re a drama queen.”
“You’re a crazy fucking bitch!” Heather’s breath was cut off as the sharp end of the rock came in contact with her cheek, and when she looked up, fear trickled all over her body, a cold sweat engulfing her as she saw the most evil eyes, wicked, as they looked at her with widely, threateningly, simply horrifyingly.
“This is what you get for participating, and having the nerve to think that you deserve him.” Heather could only muster a whimpering sound as her tears ran down her face, knowing the damage the Black Bunny had caused, knowing the consequences of her future, but she couldn’t do anything about it. Not anymore. She was breathing heavily as the pain was blurring her vision, consciousness slowly slipping away and The Black Bunny took pity on her, but it was only because she didn't want to be disqualified. She bent down to go into Heather’s pants front pocket, taking the alarm out and pressing on it. 
She looked at Heather as she finally slipped off into unconsciousness. Eddie was going to be so mad at her for this, causing more damage than she should have, but can he blame her? He was very honest with her when he had done the chase himself and how he wanted to kill anyone in his path for her. She scoffed as she looked down at Heather’s feet, knowing they wouldn't be of use any longer, a smirk coming to her face as she ventured into the woods once again, just walking, knowing she was the only one in the game now. 
“Run, rabbit, run, rabbit, run, run, run, don’t give the farmer his fun, fun, fun~” She hummed as she walked by many trees, the corner of her eye seeing the small ‘x’ signs marked on the bark of them, making her smile as she kept a soft tune coming out of her lips. She could basically taste him already, every passing tree letting her know she was slowly reaching him, slowly getting to him.
Once she finally passed the final tree marked with an X, she found a clearing. And there, in the middle of it, the moonlight shone down on his body, his face, his mask as the White Rabbit stood with a smile on his lips. There were no stains, no dirt, no blood on his body, so it meant he didn’t have to run that much because no one actually got near to him. She salivated at how gorgeous he looked under the night’s light, and all she wanted was to mess him up, to ruin him.
“It didn’t take that long.” The White Rabbit says with a soft tone, but she noticed a certain want behind it, a certain desperation, impatient. She chuckled as she took a step forward towards him, her dress moving around as she walked and his gaze followed her silhouette, brown eyes shining at her form.
“Nobody dares to go against me. You should know this.” He gave her a low ‘hm’ in agreement and she was slowly closing the distance, the tension palpable in the air as she took each step. She waited for this for a whole year, planning it with Eddie, making everything go into plan without anyone noticing, without anyone suspecting it. The White Rabbit has the same longing in his face, ready to meet his destiny, his future. And it was a decision that he had made, not one done by his father.
“I do know this, that’s why I trusted you so much with it.” He says in a loving tone, dreamily as the Black Bunny reaches him, just inches away from his body as her body flushed, heat going all over her body at his words. He was so perfect, such a romantic for someone like himself. 
“Are you going to run from me?” She asks, biting her bottom lip. He gives her a grin with a shake of his head. 
“Never from you.” His hands reached up towards his mask, and she held her breath in, containing a gasp at the anticipation of seeing him without it. She was shivering almost, trembling with need, wanting the seconds to go by quicker, but it didn’t matter because the only thing they now had was plenty of time. His fingers touched the bottom of his mask and he finally tugged it upwards, taking it off and throwing it to the side. She sighed at the beauty in front of her. A literal diamond, and he was all hers.
“Steve Harrington… You’re so beautiful.” She saw his face flush, cheeks tinted red as her hand reached up to cup one of them, her thumb rubbing a particular freckle there. Steve raised one of his hands up, pressing it onto the hand that was on his cheek, leaning into the warmth of it. He sighed of relief at her touch, finally having what he had wanted for so long. Ever since he met her almost two years ago, he knew he wanted her to own him, in whichever way possible. So when he heard her bachelors have been going missing, or killed, he wasn’t going to lie and say he wasn’t scared, but he was excited to be considered one of them.
Sadness enveloped him when he found out that she had participated in the Haunting Ground behind her father’s back, and was caught by none other than Eddie Munson, the Mafia Boss of the Black Dragon mob. There was no chance for Steve, no way to ever have her the way he wanted to, no way for her to own him the way he wanted to. But he didn’t have to wait for long, because when he received a letter from ‘His father’, he knew it wasn’t actually from him. He knew it was from someone else, and when he saw the plan on paper with a Black Dragon signature at the bottom, he knew.
“Can I see you?” He asks and she gives him a sweet smile unlike what she truly is But he deserved it. He deserved that sight of her. Even if she wanted to ruin him, make a mess out of his mind and soul, she also wanted to care for him like she would a puppy. She let go of his cheek, making his hand drop to his side as she reached towards her mask, pulling it off her face and throwing it away just like he did with his.
You.
“Happy now Stevie?” You smirked up at him and he could only look down at you in pure adoration, in bliss, as if you weren’t really there, as if you were just a figment of his imagination. A small giggle escaped your lips as you looked at him, his brown honey eyes scanning all over you, and your eyes did the same on his body, a hand reaching up to rub against the top of the corset. “This looks so good on you…”
His breathing hitched at that, and you could only grin up at him because like Eddie did with you, and like you did to him, you had studied Steve. You knew what he liked, you knew what he went crazy over, and he was very obvious in those letters that were exchanged of what he desired. You saw his whole body turning red as the jockstrap under his pants became tighter, and you could only salivate at seeing the bulge that was growing bigger each second that passed.
Transvestism: 
Sexual arousal from cross-dressing of the opposite gender.
“Yeah?” Steve’s face was flushed and you noticed the lipgloss on his lips even more now, a very faint hint of red as you could see some eyeliner, very thin, behind his eyelashes that had some mascara on them. It made his eyes pop out even more. Your hand slid up towards his shoulder, pulling him closer to you and your other hand came to rest on his cheek again, making him smile at you. You were just drooling at this point, wetness pooling between your legs. 
“Yeah… Did you follow instructions?” You asked him as his hands came to rest on your hips, pulling you flush against him and you wanted to moan at the feel of his hardness against your lower belly.
“Feel for yourself.” Steve says in a low tone. Even if he has these feminine attributes, he is still a man, and he is letting you know by his voice, making the heat even more unbearable than before. Your hand left his cheek to glide down his chest, one of your fingertips grazing over a specific freckle that was driving you mad. But your hand kept going its way, touching his waist to then go to his back and lower - that’s when you felt it. Something fluffy, something that you couldn’t help but squish and press forward, a moan escaping his lips instantly and you trembled at the sound.
“Such a good boy…” You say this time as you grip the bunny tail even harder and you start doing small circles with it, pressing it into his body, making his hands grip tighter on your hips as groans are stuck in his throat. He had followed your instructions carefully before the trial. Cleaned himself thoroughly and then started preparing the stretch. He had to rip a hole in his pants to do so because the jockstrap already gave him the opening he needed to follow your orders.
He was wearing a buttplug, and you were already making him see stars with it.
“Do you think Eddie will like me too?” He asks and your eyes sparkle with delight as you let go of his tail buttplug to fully wrap your arms around his shoulders, looking up at him, heart beating loudly into your chest from the excitement. 
“Oh, he already loves you baby… As much as I do.” He couldn’t help but smile in delight at your words, melting into your arms as his own wrap around your waist, hands splayed on your back. “You have to say the words Stevie… For how long do you want this?”
His eyes looked for yours, and even in the heat of the moment, even in the situation you were both in and how you got here, the resolution for you two was the same. There is no way you would go back to your past lives. You would be owned, but not caged. It was a very different type of situation than what you both have been through your entire lives, and just like you did, he couldn’t wait to be set free from it all.
“For as long as it lasts.” You let a sigh of relief escape your lips as your face inched closer to his. Steve couldn’t wait for his lipgloss to be smudged by you, so he leaned towards you as well, lips already parting for you. You couldn’t help but take in his scent. Sweet, hints of mint and caramel, and it was just so him. Just like you imagined he would smell like, not at all the person you met two years ago who was wearing a tight black suit with a bitter cologne on.
Your lips slot against his and you two let out a moan at the same time, swallowing it and cherishing them in the depths of your minds. One of your hands finds its way on the back of his neck, running up into his scalp, into those brown locks that he so carefully takes care of. You can taste the strawberry gloss on your tongue as your lips move against his in a soft dance, unlike what you plan to do to him.
And just like Eddie did to you that time, you bite onto Steve’s bottom lip, sharp, and he lets out another moan into your mouth as you feel that copper taste fill your tongue. You pull away from him to look at your work of art as the gloss he was wearing is replaced by your spit mixed with the small bit of blood that came out of his lip. He was almost panting over you and you couldn’t wait to knock the breath right out of his lungs.
A firework was shot in the sky to signal the end of the Haunting Ground. You couldn’t help but smile and run your tongue on Steve’s bottom lip to clean some of the blood off. He was finally yours. The wait was over. 
“Ready to go home pretty boy?”
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Steve’s heart was in his throat as he stood inside the elevator that was going upwards towards his new home. His things were already delivered as he made sure all of his belongings were sent as well as gave his signature on the contract that established that you took full responsibility for him now. He gave his loyalty, soul, mind and body towards the Black Dragon mob. 
He had reapplied the lip gloss that you had smudged previously, and he was still wearing the same attire as he did in the hunt. He was hoping Eddie would like it too, because it wasn’t just you Steve was craving. After he found out you were taken by Eddie Munson, his mind wandered to the fantasy of how you two would act intimately. Was he in control? Were you in control? Did you change it up? For some reason, Steve feels like he was the last piece of the puzzle.
The elevator finally dinged and its doors opened, revealing double dark ones right in front of him. He walked towards them, grabbing onto one of the handles and pulling it down to finally open the door, taking in the environment all around him. It was modern, yet for some reason it felt like a home. It didn’t feel bland at all. He walked in and then closed the door behind him, the dimmed warm lights filled the living room as he took some steps into his new house, into his new life.
“Stevie, baby…” You call him out as you walk down the stairs, having changed into something that knocked Steve’s air right out of his lungs. You had changed into a black latex tube dress that ended at, almost, your inner thighs, barely covering your ass at all. It had cups on the chest, making your breasts more prominent than before, and he was drooling at the sight as the echoing of your heels made him tremble at each step. You finally reached the bottom of the stairs and he now noticed the heavy black makeup on your eyes, the red gloss that was on your lips - he was guessing that everything was planned.
“You look so beautiful.” Steve says to you, making your face flush completely at his words, wetness pooling in your inner thighs and you could already feel it sticking onto your dress as well, because of course, you had to have easy access, so no underwear was always a must in this house. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, pushing your body against his as his hands came to run all over your hips, pulling you closer for his bulge to once again press against you.
“You’re one to talk Steve, god, you’re so pretty…” You leaned up as you pulled his head down towards your face. He thought you were going to kiss him, but instead your mouth moved to the side, going towards his ear. A low breath escaped your lips as you softly whispered to him, a shiver going from the back of his neck, towards the tip of his toes as his heart beat loudly at your words. “And you’re mine.”
Steve was at a loss of words as his cheeks turned into a bright shade of red, feeling heat invade all of his body inside and out. You giggled at his reaction as his bulge twitched against your body. You pulled away from his ear, your arms still wrapped around his shoulders. He really wanted to kiss you now, but he will always obey your orders. Unless you told him he had free will on his advances, he will let you make all the first moves, but he can express his feelings.
“I want to kiss you…” You hummed at his words, a happy sigh escaping your lips as one of your hands came back to the front to press against his cheek. The fingertip of your thumb caressed, very gently, against his glossy bottom lip, trying to not smudge it away.
“I would love to… But I want him to see you in this too…” And that’s when Steve felt himself freeze. He felt him. He felt his presence as if he were a ghost, an entity, but it was just the power that radiated from his body. He slowly looked up over your shoulder to look towards the open door that led to the dark kitchen. His breathing stopped completely as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of it and there, leaning against the door frame was your owner.
Eddie Munson took a step into the dim light with a small smirk on his lips.
Steve’s heart stopped at the sight before him. Eddie was shirtless, his tattoos showing off all over his torso and arms and he wondered if the back was as inked as the front. His hair was tight into a low ponytail as he took another step towards the two of you. He had black pants on with a leather belt around the hip to keep them in place, bare feet hitting onto the floor below him. You turned around to face him with a smile to your face, your arms not leaving Steve’s shoulders.
“Bunny.” Eddie called out to you and you were almost bouncing in your place as you kept your eyes on him but Eddie’s eyes were still locked with Steve's, who was still frozen in place.
“Look how pretty he got for us Eddie…” You hummed out and Eddie finally stood next to the both of you, and he almost lost control as your eyes and Steve’s looked at him, wide with stars of expectation behind them. Eddie gave you just one look and your arms left Steve’s shoulders. He almost whined at the loss as he gave you one look, his head turning from Eddie only for it to be turned back as a big ringed hand held onto his chin that made Steve’s legs almost tremble as honey eyes clashed into deep brown ones again.
“You were right Bunny… He is very pretty.” Eddie took a step closer to Steve whose face was red from want already. His eyes hazing over with desire, and Eddie could see it. He could see how Steve’s eyelids were becoming heavier as he looked at him. His thumb caressed right below Steve’s bottom lip that made his breathing hitch, a small gasp being heard from him, making Eddie smile victoriously. “I like this on you.”
Steve felt almost overwhelmed already because you two were just invading his space completely. He felt like his breathing was cutting short, feeling as if the walls in the house were getting smaller on him but it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling at all. First, he got to taste you. Now, he wants to have a taste of the man that is in front of him. He finally understood perfectly why you had decided to stay with him. 
“And he followed our orders.” You mention as you walk behind Steve, pressing your lower belly against the bunny tail, pushing it forward and making Steve’s cheeks heat up as a moan escapes his lips. It makes him take a step forward towards Eddie, his chest colliding with his. Eddie’s hands catch Steve’s biceps to hold him up as he smirks over his shoulder and towards you who was already grinning at him.
“I think he deserves a reward.” He looked down at the hazy honey eyes again, immediately leaning down with no warning and pressing his lips against Steve’s, getting a surprised gasp from the man followed by a moan as you pressed onto the bunny tail again. Eddie smirked as his eyes stayed half lidded, open just enough to see Steve’s reactions, making the hardness in his pants twitch against Steve’s. He took the opportunity of his moan where he opened his mouth slightly to press his tongue into his mouth, as his hands pressed against his waist, pulling him closer.
Steve felt like he was on fire, and you two were already defiling him, front and back. You were moving the buttplug, rutting into him in small circles, but it was enough for his spongy spot to be rubbed just slightly. He was moaning onto Eddie’s tongue as it almost went to the back of his throat, and how godly Eddie tasted. It was a mixture of cigarettes and whiskey, maybe a hint of an afternoon coffee he must have drank waiting for your hunt to be over.
You trailed your lips towards the freckles that were splayed on Steve’s back, your eyes like stars as you slowly started kissing each one as if they were constellations, making Steve shiver as his hands snaked up towards Eddie’s shoulders, finally letting himself go and be guided by his own desire. He wrapped his arms around him, making Eddie chuckle into his mouth at the gesture. Steve definitely was more romantic than you were, and now he understands what you meant when you said you wanted to ruin him. 
Because now he wants to do the same.
“I’m feeling a little left out…” At your voice the two men pulled away, a string of saliva left behind as Eddie looked over Steve’s shoulder to see you pouting. He knew he was going to see a new side of you tonight, a side that you couldn’t be with him because he wouldn’t allow it and you didn’t complain, but you were very much excited about owning Harrington. You couldn’t help but get giddy at the prospect of all the stuff you wanted to try on him, and Eddie was more than happy to help you choose the best things.
“Oh, we can’t have that. Kiss her Harrington.” Steve immediately takes his arms off Eddie’s shoulders, face completely reddened by the intrusive kiss as he turns around to look at you again. You beam at him as if he were holding the stars for you right now, his hands coming to wrap around your waist, pulling you into him, your hands landing on his shoulders as he leans down and immediately presses his lips against yours.
You were smirking against the kiss as you felt Eddie’s hands come in between the both of you and Steve’s breath hitched into your mouth as he felt calloused hands, ringed fingers rubbing onto his chest. Your hands went now to cradle Steve’s face, pulling him deeper into you, forcing your tongue into his mouth as he let a moan escape his lips. Eddie smirked behind him, and his fingers rubbed onto one of Steve’s nipples, hardening the bud there as he could feel Steve pressing his ass against his bulge, the buttplug pressing deeper into him.
“He’s such a slut.” You say. You had pulled away from the kiss the moment you felt an even deeper moan coming from Steve and you wanted to see what Eddie was doing to him. 
“I agree.” Eddie suddenly pinches Steve’s hard nipples, and the brown haired boy’s eyes widened with a gasp at the sensation, his whole body on fire as he throws his head back onto Eddie’s shoulder. 
“God–” Steve moans out as another roll of Eddie’s fingers press onto one of his nipples. His jaw was suddenly grabbed roughly, making him look at you. His face flushed a deep red as you were almost glaring at him.
“There’s no god here. Only us.” At your display of dominance, Eddie couldn’t help but feel his dick twitch in his pants, pressing himself harder against Steve. He wasn’t into it if it was done to him, but seeing you doing it to someone else… He finds it too erotic. Steve moans your name, making you smile lovingly at him again.
“And what about me?” Eddie asks Steve as he pinches onto his nipple even harder this time, making Steve hiss.
“Eddie!” It came out as a whine, and you felt Steve’s bulge pressing onto your lower belly. You could feel your wetness falling down your inner thighs as you kept looking at him. Your eyes darted back towards Eddie who had a smirk on his face as Steve was turning into a puddle in between you both.
“Bunny, let’s stop playing.” You giggled in delight as you ripped yourself away from Steve, making the boy whine at the loss of your warm body against his, and then he couldn’t even finish the thought that he was turned around to face Eddie again. Steve’s eyes widened when Eddie bent down slightly to wrap his arm around the back of Steve’s thighs.
“What are you–” And just like that, Steve was lifted up into the air with ease, as if he were a feather despite the fact that he knew he was probably at the same weight as Eddie was. But the long haired man was stronger than he thought as he dangled over Eddie’s shoulder and arm. Eddie was holding him with his arm, pressing against the back of his thighs still so Steve wouldn’t fall. You looked at Steve’s face and you couldn’t help but smile wickedly as you saw the fucked out face that was on display for you. You knew Eddie shirtless was going to rile him up, but making Eddie show him just how strong he was… You knew he was going to go insane.
Sthenolagnia: 
Sexual arousal to muscles and, or, displays of strength.
“Aw Eddie, he already looks like he is going to cum.” You said with a teasing tone as Eddie started going up the stairs and Steve only let out a small whine at your words. He really did look fucked out, and he was getting off just from Eddie’s strength. Suddenly, Steve jerked forward in Eddie’s hold, as he chokes out a moan in surprise, a loud smack vibrating through the home. His left ass cheek was stinging now from Eddie slapping him there. 
“We have a long night ahead of us.” Eddie said and you giggled behind them as he finally reached the top of the stairs without even needing to catch his breath. It made Steve’s dick twitch to not hear a single pant, heavy breathing of some sort, nothing. Proof that Eddie was very strong.
Steve’s eyes locked with yours as you followed Eddie through the hallways of the home. Your hand raised up to caress Steve’s cheek and you could feel the heat radiating from his skin, and you could swear you heard a small whimper get caught in his throat from your touch. Eddie opened the door to his room, and immediately placed Steve back on his own two feet. He took the opportunity of closeness to place a small kiss on Steve’s right shoulder.
Steve gasped slightly at Eddie’s action and then locked eyes with him. Eddie’s gaze shifted towards the room and Steve decided to finally turn around to take it all in, his eyes widening. An Alaskan king bed was in the middle of the room, black comforters all over, a tall ceiling that had wide windows on the side, black curtains draping over them. His eyes roamed all over to find two doors, one for the walk in closet, and the other for the main bathroom. Candles were over many small tables and dressers that decorated the big room, and he could see the guitars displayed on the wall.Steve’s heart melted a little bit to see that it wasn’t just an empty basic room.
He took a step inside to look at one dresser in particular to find, surprisingly, some art supplies. He smiled when he realized that there’s also a trace of yourself in this room. This wasn’t just a temporary home at all, this was yours and Eddie’s home. This wasn’t just a hollow vessel to keep him locked up. This was his freedom, and he cannot wait to put a piece of him inside of it as well. He felt a kiss on one of his shoulders and he looked to his right to find you smiling up at him.
“Welcome home Stevie…” You said in a sultry tone to him, making his eyes glint towards you, lust clouding his mind again, pushing the soft feelings aside until a later time. He almost jumped when he felt another pair of lips kissing his left shoulder this time, his head turning to see Eddie smirking at him. His lips then dove towards the crook of Steve’s neck and shoulder, making him groan at the feeling. You smiled at your partner’s actions, and you moved more towards his front to then lean towards his collarbone, placing kisses all over it, making Steve let a sigh of bliss out of his lips.
Eddie smirked as his tongue started licking along Steve’s pulsepoint and one of his hands went towards one of Steve’s ass cheeks, gripping it tightly, making the brown haired boy gasp through his strangled moans, not wanting them out just yet. Your tongue traced from one freckle to the other, freckles that covered his chest, small ones, big ones, you were obsessed with them. You gasped onto Steve’s skin when you felt Eddie’s hand on your own ass as well. 
Steve suddenly yelped, making Eddie’s head get off the crook of his neck to look down at what you were doing, a smirk appearing on his lips. Your tongue was licking over one of Steve’s nipples in an apologetic manner, and Eddie could only guess that you had bit him. But Eddie could still see the grin that was on your face, a grin he never saw before but he was pretty sure that it was the same one he had whenever he fucked you how he liked.
“You like it when I hurt you, don’t you Stevie? I can feel your dick twitching against me.” You said to him, and Steve only nodded dumbly, looking down towards you with hope in his eyes and you could only smile as your eyes almost widened at how excited you were. You waited one year to finally show your other side, and you were going to not waste a single second of it. 
Your mouth latched onto his other nipple, giving it a few kitten lips, and then you finally let your teeth sink into the flesh of the nub, biting harshly on him as Steve threw his head back with widened eyes as a moan escaped his throat, the grin widening on your lips at the sound.
Eddie chuckled at how dominant you were, but he felt a little bit left out from the action, so his hand lifted up from your ass to land a loud smack against the tightness of your ass, and you let out a strangled moan, letting go of Steve’s nipple to let it fall from your lips. Steve’s head looked down at you and he was surprised to see your eyes half lidded, almost teary. And that’s when Steve understood it, a grin spreading on his lips as he locked eyes with Eddie’s.
SadoMasochism:
Sexual Arousal on causing pain as well as receiving.
Eddie’s hand ran towards your scalp and he suddenly gripped your hair to rip you away from Steve harshly, making you whimper at the pain, a gasp escaping your lips as you tumbled back towards Eddie’s chest. He leaned down towards your ear to give you a small bite on your earlobe and Steve’s face flushed as he watched you both. 
“Now Bunny… How about we take off that pretty dress you’re wearing?” You nodded rapidly at your partner’s orders, not only because he was your master, your owner, even if it were just that. But because he didn’t see you as only a possession, as ‘something’ to control. You both liked the play of it and it seemed Steve liked it too.
Eddie immediately started working on the zipper that was on your back, pulling it all the way down slowly as Steve waited patiently from where he stood in front of you, his hands to himself. Eddie could only smirk as he felt your shiver when his hands started gliding all over your back, and then towards your shoulders, underneath the straps of your dress, to then slide them off as he moved his hands on your arms.
Steve’s breathing stopped as the dress started falling off from your body, Eddie helping to pull it down from how tight it was. Steve could only look at your breasts, noticing some bruises here and there, making him gulp. His dick jumped up at the thought of Eddie roughly devouring you, and all he wanted now was for you to do the same to him. He wanted you to mark his chest, his arms, his neck, his ass, everywhere. Steve needed your mark on him, desperately.
Within a few seconds, you were bare in front of both men, heels coming off as well. You shivered at the cold of the AC hitting against your nipples, hardening them immediately. You stepped away from your dress for Eddie to kick it away. His hands suddenly wrapped around your waist, moving towards your front, making your breathing hitch slightly, and one of his hands moved to your breast, while the other started traveling south.
You sighed a moan out of your mouth when his fingers pinched your nipple, making your body twitch at the feeling. Eddie chuckled against your ear, his other hand reaching your folds. He couldn’t contain his chuckle when he felt just how drenched you were - it was smeared all over your inner thighs, and you moaned when he ran two of his fingers through your slit, reaching your clit. He harshly pressed his digits against your nub, making you whimper this time at the pain and the pleasure of it. 
“Eddie…” You moaned out his name and Steve wanted to reach his hands towards you, but he knew better than to do that when Eddie was in the room. You were still his after all, and everything Steve could do to you was only allowed if Eddie said so.
“Now here is what’s going to happen. We are going to lay down…” As he said this, he guided you backwards and your eyes were still locked on Steve, a wicked grin appearing on your lips as you were manhandled onto the bed, being thrown in the middle of it by Eddie. You landed with a small ‘oof’ sound as you bounced on the mattress, turning to look towards your partner. Eddie’s eyes turned towards Steve, a smirk appearing on his lips. “And you will show me how good you are Harrington…”
“What–”
“Fuck her.” 
Steve’s eyes immediately widened, not fully processing what Eddie was asking of him. Your eyes sparkled with anticipation as you moved to rest on your elbows to be able to look towards Steve. You wanted to laugh at how baffled he looked, the poor guy probably wasn’t coming with the expectation of fucking you, but rather getting fucked. You raised your legs, bending your knees to then spread yourself for him, and Steve’s gaze quickly shifted to the wetness between your legs.
“C’mon Steve… I’m waiting.” You moved one hand towards your cunt, using your index and middle finger to form a V-Shape, separating your lips to show yourself to him. 
Steve’s dick bobbed in his jockstrap, and his mind was already fuzzy with the idea of being inside of you, so his hands reached backwards, and there was a small button on his pants, right above where the bunny tail was, securing the hole he had made on them. He popped it open for his pants to fall to the floor immediately, pressing against the fabric with one foot to pop one out of the elastics, doing the same with the other. 
Eddie’s eyes looked all over him, mouth watering as he scanned his body, reaching towards the elastic of the jockstrap, making Steve gasp at the touch. Eddie smirked at the reaction, pulling at the elastic and then let it snap harshly onto the man’s skin, making him whine with a moan at the pain. Steve took the sign and proceeded to take the jockstrap off, having a hard time bending down because of the corset, so he had to crouch to completely take it off. 
Steve stood up and your eyes scanned the length of his dick, eyes widening when you saw that the rumors of Steve Harrington being big were true. You licked your bottom lip as you salivated with the need to taste him, but that can wait for another time. Steve’s hands went to his corset but Eddie was quick to grab onto his wrist, making Steve snap his head towards him with widened eyes.
“Keep that on.” He almost growled and Steve trembled at the dominance of the man, precum already leaking from the pink tip of his dick. He gave Eddie a nod and took a step towards your impatient figure only to be stopped again. “Do not finish inside of her. That’s something only I can do until I say otherwise.” 
At that, Steve couldn’t help but give Eddie a wicked grin, surprising the long haired man.
“Will you finish inside of me as well?” Steve purred and Eddie wanted to laugh at how delighted he was. This man was starving for you, and now he wanted him as well. 
“Only if she lets me.” And that made Steve remember that he is yours, not Eddie’s, turning his focus back to you. You had a smirk on your face as your fingers were rubbing small circles on your clit as you looked at the two men. All their small talk, acting as if you were not in the room, only spiraled you more into the lust that built inside your chest.
Steve walked towards the edge of the bed, his knees hitting the soft mattress as he crawled between your legs. He licked his lips as he looked down at your wet cunt, and he couldn’t help himself as he  leaned his head down, wanting to taste even if just a little bit, only for his hair to be grabbed roughly. He yelped as he was pulled upwards, his back clashing against a chest. Eddie had crawled on bed right behind Steve when he saw the man was about to dive into your cunt, something he had not ordered Steve to do.
“I said fuck her, not eat her out.” Eddie said in his ear, in a growl almost, as he pressed his lips against it. At Eddie’s command, you whipped your head to glare at him over Steve’s shoulder, surprising him as you groaned in displeasure at him. He let go of Steve’s hair, squinting at you as you were defying him for the first time.
“He is mine.” Steve’s body burned at your words and how protective you were being of him. Eddie cannot command everything for Steve, and he has to be respectful to your wishes, but Steve can only guess the punishment that awaits you later for it, and that was making him even harder than before. 
“And you are mine.” Eddie growled back at you and you felt a cold shiver run down your spine at the intensity of his eyes. Your hand left your clit instantly, knowing that without his permission you weren’t allowed to touch yourself, your dominance going back and forth, switching on and off depending on the man that talked to you. 
Steve choked on his saliva when he felt a hand engulfing his cock, and he looked down to see Eddie’s tattooed knuckles, slowly, and just barely, moving back and forth on him. Your mouth watered at the scene in front of you, making your legs spread even wider and as you whined, your hips started thrusting upwards in short little jumps, telling the men that they were leaving you aside again. Steve gazed down at you before his eyes moved to look at Eddie.
“Eddie, I want to– Can I?” Eddie smirked at the politeness that Steve has with him, and he pressed his other hand on Steve’s shoulder blade, pushing him forward and the brown haired man got the hint. He crawled two more steps towards your raised hips, and Eddie helped him to line his cock in the slit of your entrance. Steve moaned when he felt the tip dampen with your slick, and you whimpered with the need of more. 
“C’mon big boy, show me what you got. Fuck her like you mean it.” And just like that, Steve’s control snapped at the order, his hands flying to grip onto each side of your waist, making you smile, your upper body hitting the mattress to let Steve hold your hips up. He looked truly beautiful, and you couldn’t help but clench on nothing when you saw both men looking down at you, one dressed in white, the other covered in dark tattoos with black pants.
They were the complete opposites.
Your head fell back as your eyes widened at the stretch. Steve had started pushing forward into you, his nails digging into your skin, his eyes clenched tightly at the feeling. You were tight. How could your pussy be this tight? It was unreal, and Steve’s mind was completely foggy now. He didn’t know what was real and what was not, and the further he sank in, the more he started coming back down to the real world. 
“Fuck–” Steve moaned out and Eddie smirked as he looked at how the two of you were slowly being connected. He had to admit that Steve’s dick was big, and by the look of your expression you were completely loving the feeling of him. Eddie encouraged Steve to move faster by grabbing the bunny tail, the buttplug, and pushing it forward, making Steve’s eyes snap open as a loud moan escaped his lips from the sensation of both of his ends being stimulated. 
You couldn’t help but chuckle in disbelief how good he was feeling. It was worth the wait, it was definitely worth the wait. Steve kept moving forward thanks to Eddie’s help and he snapped his hips into you, bottoming out and the two of you let out a loud moan as Steve held onto you. Eddie’s hand left Steve’s bunny tail and the latter man let out a sigh of relief, but also of discontent. 
“Move Harrington.” Steve nodded at that, moving his hips backwards, not even letting you have a moment to adjust because that’s just how you liked it. You liked the pain of the stretch. You liked the shift from pain to pleasure. Steve snapped back into you, quick, surprising you as you felt him hit at the very deep of your gut, the slight pain that came with it. 
“Holy shit!” You couldn’t help but curse at the feeling of someone else inside of you, someone else other than your partner, and it feels as if you were finally complete. Steve was something you needed, the piece that was missing between you and Eddie. 
“Does he feel good, baby?” Eddie purred from behind Steve, looking at you over the other man’s shoulder as he saw how he kept moving back and forth, hips snapping against yours, your breasts bouncing in rhythm at the quick pace. You nodded dumbly as your eyes stared towards the ceiling in a hazy state, fluttering as moans slipped out of your lips.
“Fuck, yes, yes– He feels so good, you feel so good Stevie–” You choked on a moan as Steve slowed his pace to pull all the way out, only to slam himself back in in a quick and deep thrust. He moaned loudly, throwing his head back onto Eddie’s shoulder. He couldn’t believe that Eddie got you like this almost every night for a year already and he can’t wait for himself to experience it as well. 
Eddie could only lick his lips as he saw Steve’s dick disappear inside of you, only to reappear again and then repeat that cycle. Your body was bouncing against the movement, and he smirked down at you as your eyes locked with his. His own dick twitched in his pants;he would only be able to hold back for a few more minutes, and he was surprised by Steve’s movements. He did in fact tell him to fuck you like he meant it, and he was doing exactly that. 
“And you, Steve? Does she feel good?” Eddie whispered in his ear, to then kiss just below it and then follow down towards his neck, leaving a trail of kisses behind, making Steve moan as he nodded, his thrusts not once faltering in movement even if his mind was being overstimulated by the two of you. He was loving Eddie’s attention, but even more the fact that he was watching him fuck you. His dick twitched inside of you as he felt Eddie’s eyes once more on the place that connected you to Steve.
Voyeurism: 
Sexual arousal from watching others while naked or having sex, or being watched.
“She feels good, she feels perfect–” You were staring at both men, moans leaving your mouth as the slapping of skin was heard all around the room, the wetness of your cunt making obscene sounds as well that only made you become even filthier. Your legs were already cramping, helping you to keep your hips up. Eddie chuckled against Steve’s neck, and he couldn’t help but latch his mouth to start sucking on his skin.
“No.” You sharply said in between your teeth, almost in a hiss through your groans. You felt Steve halt on his movements, slowing down so you could talk and Eddie let go of Steve’s neck as he stared down at you. “Do not mark him.”
“My bad, Bunny.” He was going to respect the ownership status. He was the only one that could mark you, and you were the only one that could mark Steve. His attention was back on Steve with a smirk on his face. “Now I’m curious about how you feel, how you clench, how you tighten around my dick…” 
“W-Wha–?” He couldn’t even finish his answer when he felt Eddie’s hand grip the bunny tail again, but this time he pushed forward and then backwards, just slightly, not letting the buttplug come out yet, but it was enough to make it have a small thrusting motion. A choked moan slipped out of Steve’s lips as his thrusts stopped completely. Eddie growled and he raised his hand to slap Steve’s thigh harshly, ordering him to keep moving. Steve groaned in a whimper as he started following Eddie’s movement on his buttplug and your eyes widened at Steve’s expression.
He looked wrecked. 
You wanted to see more of it, you needed to see more of that face, and you wanted the tears to roll down of his cheeks, to become so overstimulated that he cannot help but scream for mercy. You clenched around Steve and his eyes widened as he felt the burning on his belly beginning to form. It was happening way too quickly for his own liking and he shook his head, trying to move back from you.
“I– I’m sorry, I’m so close–” And you couldn’t help but smile lovingly because Steve had followed instructions. You commanded him to not touch himself for a month, and you knew that was a challenge but now you knew he followed the instructions because of how fast he was already close to cumming. 
You immediately put your upper body back down on the mattress, making Steve slip out of you. He whimpered at the loss of your heat and you sighed of relief as your hips and legs relaxed again. Eddie took this chance for his other arm to wrap around Steve’s front, over his clavicle, Eddie’s hand grasping onto Steve’s opposite shoulder, pressing him tightly against his chest. Eddie’s movements never stopped on Steve’s backplug, making the man whimper and his hands made their way towards Eddie’s forearm for support. 
“Such a good boy for us Steve.” Eddie said in an alluring tone against Steve’s ear, who was moaning at the feeling of his prostate being rubbed on. His dick was bobbing up and down, the increasing sensation of release creeping closer and closer. You quickly moved now, turning to lay down on your stomach, raising your upper body up and coming face to face with Steve’s dick. 
“Want to taste you my sweet boy…” You were grinning as you stuck your tongue out to give Steve a kitten lick at the red leaking tip and Steve almost jerked forward at the sensation. Eddie’s hand that was on his shoulder moved to grip tightly on Steve’s jaw, turning his head to face him. Eddie’s lips clashed against the other man’s as you smirked up towards them, opening your mouth to take Steve into your mouth, your tongue licking all over the head of his dick as Eddie kept pressing onto Steve’s buttplug.
Steve was a moaning mess, his hips bucking back and forth onto the slickness of your tongue and onto the friction of his buttplug. His mouth was invaded by Eddie’s tongue and that’s when the elastic band in his belly snapped, completely, a loud whine escaping into Eddie’s mouth as you let Steve fill your mouth, the taste of him driving you crazy already. It was sweet, not even a tiny bit sour or bitter. 
Eddie pulled away from Steve’s lips to hold him still because his body was jerking at every spurt of cum that left him. He looked down towards you and his own dick wanted to rip out of his jeans as Steve finally relaxed on him and you took your mouth away from him. Steve followed Eddie’s gaze as he breathed heavily and he couldn’t believe his dick twitched when you opened your mouth to show his spent to both men. You closed your mouth to swallow Steve’s cum. 
Eddie immediately reached down to wrap his hand around your neck, making you chuckle in pleasure as he pulled you up, chest coming in contact with Steve’s sweaty one. Eddie instantly pulled you into a deep kiss so he could taste Steve on your lips. The brown haired man shivered at Eddie’s eagerness and his body flushed in heat as he was still panting from how intense his orgasm was just now. 
You moaned into Eddie’s mouth as he swirled his tongue against yours and he groaned as he tasted the sweetness that still lingered there. He pulled away from you and then his hunger got the best of him as both of his hands went towards the front of Steve’s corset, wanting to rip it open, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to do that with the metal clasps. He groaned as he quickly started undoing the last of Steve’s clothing. 
Steve’s eyes widened at how fast Eddie was working on his corset and then he saw how you moved your hands around his waist in order to reach behind him and towards Eddie to help him out. Steve was looking at your face, and you reached up to give him a soft kiss on his lips, and he couldn’t help but notice the remaining taste of him in your mouth, a soft groan escaping him. You started undoing Eddie’s belt, pulling the clasp open to then move onto his button and zipper as he finished undoing Steve’s corset.
Eddie immediately ripped it open, Steve letting out a sigh of relief, not having noticed how tight it had been. By ripping it open, it made the straps of chains on his shoulders slide down. Your hands left Eddie’s waist and you quickly moved away to crawl towards a night table, making Steve whimper at the loss of you. Eddie tugged onto the corset, making Steve’s arms move backwards in order to discard the clothing off, the wide silver elastic bands that pressed on his wrists finally coming off, and letting Eddie discard that piece of clothing to the side as well. 
“On all fours.” Eddie ordered and Steve knew better than to go against that order as he saw you pull a bottle of lube out of the drawer, which made Steve’s softening dick begin to grow hard again. He let out a shaky breath as he let his body fall forward, both hands pressing against the mattress as he presented himself towards Eddie. A blush spread on his cheeks at how vulnerable he must be looking, but that was fine - it was just you and Eddie, no one else. 
You bit your bottom lip as you crawled on the bed to be kneeling next to Steve. Your eyes sparkled at the sight of the bunny tail sticking out of Steve’s ass, and you looked at Eddie with excitement written all over your face. Eddie then grabbed onto Steve’s buttplug and slowly turned it, making Steve whimper at the feeling of overstimulation. You lifted the bottle of lube and let a small amount drip down where the plug was connected to Steve’s asshole.
“Relax baby, don’t clench.” You soothed Steve with your soft tone of voice and you could hear him taking in a deep breath before then letting it out. Your hand went towards the small of his back, rubbing small circles on it with your thumb as Eddie twisted the plug a bit more to spread the lube. He then started pulling backwards, and he could see Steve’s rim being stretched as the base of the plug began to show. 
“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck–” He couldn’t help but feel the stretch of it. He knew that he was fully prepared inside, but his rim had already relaxed into the normal state. Eddie moved slowly, and then when the base of the plug was almost all out, he decided to stay put for a bit, twisting it slightly in order to adjust the rim in a larger size again. You licked your lips at the sight, completely hypnotized by it and how careful Eddie was being. Your heart was beating on your chest because of that action, and you smiled at it.
“You’re doing so good Stevie.” Eddie let out as he began to pull the rest of the plug much easier than before. He smirked knowing that he didn’t need preparation at all because the length of the plug was rather large. He experimented on moving the plug back inside Steve a few times, and he could feel how easy it was. Poor Steve felt himself growing crazy as his dick sprung back into hardness. He needed more. He didn’t want the buttplug. He needed something to go even deeper.
“P-Please…” He moaned out and that was Eddie’s snapping point. He had been patient and careful, and the two of you had had your fun. It was Eddie’s turn. He pulled the buttplug out of Steve, completely, and the other man let out a sigh of frustration. You stared at Eddie as he dropped the plug on the floor and he pulled himself out of the bed to finally rid himself of his pants and underwear in one motion. You licked your lips as you stared at his dick, red from how edged he already was, and you wanted to help him out so badly.
Eddie circled the bed, giving your cheek a soft caress as he passed by and you moaned in delight at that, handing him the bottle of lube. Steve’s eyes widened as he finally saw Eddie’s cock, and he wanted to take him into his mouth really badly. His eyes were teary as he snapped his head back to look at you with puppy dog eyes. 
You understood what he wanted instantly, and you giggled, shaking your head at him.“Later baby.” 
He whined when you forbid him of that right now, but he was going to dutifully do as you say. His eyes went back to Eddie who was getting himself comfortable in the middle of the huge bed, his back resting against the pillows and he was barely laying down. His dick was almost pointing at him from how hard he was and how curved it was. 
“Ride me Harrington.” Steve shivered at the command, and as if his body was taken over by pleasure and lust, he started crawling towards Eddie, his face coming close to his dick and he almost went against what you said. But he closed his eyes,not letting himself be blinded by desire before looking back at Eddie. He crawled over his body, only to be stopped once more by Eddie putting a hand on Steve’s chest.
“W-What?” He asked and the long haired man smirked as he nodded once at him.
“The other way.” Steve’s eyes widened at that, gulping loudly but following orders. He crawled backwards in order to turn around in all fours and then started going back towards Eddie, this time his ass facing him. Eddie licked his lips as Steve’s legs started spreading, his knees opening as he slid closer towards Eddie, finally resting against Eddie’s thighs. Steve heard the bottle of lube being opened and then the coldness hit his asshole again, and he knew it was already going inside of him thanks to the gape the plug created on him.
“Eddie is going to make you feel so good baby.” You cooed at Steve who was blushing your way. You had decided to sit on the bed, one arm behind so it would help you support your body, legs spread again as you rubbed small circles on your clit. 
“Come here big boy.” Eddie had pulled himself forward to press his hands on Steve’s chest in order to make him move backwards. Steve followed, his position changing completely as he helped himself with his hands behind him, on each side of Eddie’s ribs, pressing his feet against the mattress in between the other man’s spread legs, lifting his hips up. Adrenaline rushed all over Steve’s body, knowing that once he started going down, Eddie would start going inside of him.
You bit your lip as you saw Eddie lining his dick on Steve’s entrance as he stroked himself a few times. You saw Steve’s excitement splayed on his face as he let himself go down and his eyes widened towards the ceiling as he felt Eddie’s tip start to stretch the rim of his asshole even more than the buttplug did, and he noticed that Eddie had covered his dick in lube because it was sliding easily inside of him.
“FUCK!” Steve yelled as he kept sinking himself down on Eddie, not wanting to stop, the pain mixing with pleasure as he felt the pressure growing on him the deeper Eddie went. Eddie had to throw his head back onto the pillows, his body growing hotter as pleasure slowly started enveloping his mind.
“Just a bit more Stevie…” You said in a soft reassuring tone and that made Steve nod as he took another deep breath in to let himself sink even further down. It was as if there was no end to Eddie’s dick because he just kept going down, and down, and he was being stretched in places that the buttplug didn’t reach. Steve’s dick was already leaking precum again as it laid on his stomach and you were salivating with the need of tasting him again, but you opted to keep rubbing circles on your clit to keep you on the brink of your climax. Moans escaped your mouth as groans escaped Eddie’s and whimpers escaped Steve’s.
Steve finally slammed himself down, making Eddie bottom out in him and Steve let out a strangled moan, in pain, in pleasure, he didn’t know. Eddie was too deep inside him and he was touching places no man, dildo or plug touched before. The tattooed man leaned upwards to press a kiss on Steve’s back, trying to get him to relax because he had tensed his muscles at the friction. 
“Move when you are ready darling.” He softly said to Steve and that made the other man sigh and completely relax on his hold. He felt safe, secure, and he knew that the pain would go away at some point but he also loved it so he didn’t care if it didn’t. He pressed on his feet for impulse and he raised his hips up, just barely, and moved down again. He groaned at the feeling and then he repeated it as Eddie’s tip and length started rubbing against his prostate.
“Oh god…” His face became flushed as the pleasure started taking over, his belly turning as he started going upwards even further than before and then going back down again. You were amazed by how fast he had adjusted to Eddie. You had to prepare yourself for a whole week to take Eddie into your ass for the first time, and even with that you took some minutes to be able to adjust to him.
Eddie’s hands came to grasp on Steve’s waist as the brown haired boy started moving even faster than before, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, throwing it back in pleasure. Steve felt his dick hitting him in his stomach each time he bounced on Eddie, hearing the man groaning behind him as loud degenerated moans started escaping Steve’s lips. These moans were completely different from the ones that he let out when he was fucking you. 
You bit your bottom lip as you felt your face heat up at the sight before you. You saw how Eddie suddenly raised his hips up, putting his weight on his feet and it made Steve stop bouncing as his hips were raised up, Eddie’s dick pushing deep into him. Steve’s eyes snapped open when he felt Eddie chuckle behind him, and that’s when his whole mind was thrown out the window. He didn’t know who he was anymore as Eddie started fucking into him in a brutal pace.
“H-HOLY SH-SHIT!” Steve almost screamed those words as his head was thrown back at how quick Eddie was moving into him, his dick bobbing all the while as he kept himself up for Eddie to keep thrusting freely at his pace, the noises of skin slapping filling the room.
“Oh my god…” Your voice was dry as you looked at how Eddie was fucking into Steve, hungrily, and you could hear him groan, sometimes even moan under Steve. “How does he feel, Eddie?” 
“Fucking amazing.” He said in a growl and he knew he was answering the question he asked Steve minutes ago. He could hear Steve’s choked moans above him and he smirked at the sounds, knowing he was about to make them worse. He impaled himself inside Steve, making the other man moan loudly as his eyes started tearing up from the feeling. He started pulling his hips back down onto the bed, making Steve follow him. Steve was confused because he was feeling good, breathing heavily, turning his head to his side to talk to Eddie.
“What happened?” He asked and Eddie only chuckled.
“Bunny, ride him.” 
Steve’s eyes widened as his head snapped at you who was already getting up on the bed with a smile on your lips, excited and Steve felt like he was going to die right then and there. Your legs spread the farthest of the three of you, planting one foot on each side of Eddie’s hips, your ass facing Steve. You crouched downwards, and you spat on your hand, to then wrap it on Steve’s dick, pumping it a few times.
Steve moaned curses, he could feel Eddie move slightly underneath him as you pumped his dick and he was already dreading feeling you at the same time he felt Eddie. You smirked as you lined the tip of Steve’s dick at your entrance and slowly started sinking down on him, making Steve throw his head back with a silent moan escaping his lips. His breathing completely stopped, not knowing how to take all of the stimulation that his body was suffering. 
“Oh, he feels so good.” You let out as you sank all the way down in order to bottom out. Steve only groaned at the feeling and you didn’t need time to adjust at all, so you immediately started moving up and down on him, quickly changing to a fast pace as you felt the coil in your belly start to turn.
“O-Oh fuck, fuck, fuck!” Steve was completely gone at this point. Tears started sliding down his cheeks as he felt himself going in and out of you, but thanks to you riding him, the mattress was bouncing, and that made Eddie bounce in and out of him as well. Your arms were thrown backwards because you needed support. One of them landed on Eddie’s shoulder, and you angled your upper body to the side so your other arm could wrap around Steve’s shoulders. 
You started twisting your hips in a circle motion, making Steve see stars, and he had realized he had access to your right nipple. In order to give you more pleasure, he latched his mouth onto it, gently biting onto the nub and pulling on it. You moaned loudly, your moving completely stopping at the feeling of your nipple being played with. You heard a loud groan beneath you and you knew Eddie had grown impatient.
“C’mon.” He raised his hips up forcefully, this time a little less than before, making Steve and you follow the movement, and then Eddie started thrusting into Steve once again and that made Steve go into you at the same pace that Eddie was fucking into him. You moaned loudly as you pinched your eyebrows together at the sensation, Steve never leaving your nipple as he kept sucking and biting onto it. 
“Oh this feels so fucking good, holy shit.” You couldn’t help but express how amazing you were feeling. You couldn’t help but love the pace of it, and how good Steve’s dick was hitting your g-spot. Steve was a moaning mess beneath you, but he wanted to make you cum, at least help you with something. His belly was burning but yours was even more heated.
“Is Bunny going to cum?” Eddie teasingly said below the both of you, but he was trying to hold back on his own groans, his own moans, because everything was too erotic right now. Your moans mixed with Steve’s was just too pornographic. Steve whimpered when he felt you clench around his dick and you nodded dumbly as you pinched your eyes together. Eddie’s hands traveled from Steve’s waist towards yours and you started moving as well on Steve, trying to chase your orgasm.
The different paces were making Steve cry in pleasure. You were clenching on him as you bounced on your quick pace while Eddie was pounding harshly and rapidly underneath him. You kept going until finally you felt your belly turn as the climax was nearing closer and closer, your eyes going to the back of your head and Steve took this chance to bite onto your nipple again. That was your breaking point.
“FUCK!” Your walls clenched tightly as your hold on Steve grew tighter, and your head was thrown back in pure ecstasy. Stars flashed behind your eyelids as your legs trembled at your intense orgasm. Steve let go of your nipple to let out a loud moan, almost a cry of pleasure at the feeling, and Eddie halted his movements, finally huffing at how much he had moved in the past few minutes. 
You twitched while on top of Steve, slowing your movements as you rode the last bit of your orgasm, breathing heavily as your back sticky  with sweat, mixing with Steve’s own sweaty chest. Steve was sandwiched between you and Eddie and he was heaving for breath, moving slightly underneath you so he could take more oxygen into his lungs. You got the hint and pushed yourself up, letting Steve’s dick slip out of you again, making him wince at the feeling. Your legs were wobbly as you crawled away, and you were trying to regain your breath for the next part of your night. The part that excited you the most, as well as Eddie.
“You have to move darling. How do you want him?” Steve frowned at that, his chest going up and down until his attention snapped towards the clinking of some metal and leather. His eyes widened as he stared at what you were holding in your hands with a smile on your face as you still tried to catch your breath. 
“On his back, head hanging off the edge. I want to see his pretty face as I wreck him.” You could see Steve’s face blushing a deep red in complete need as he heard your words. You smirked at him as you saw how the mascara stained his cheeks. You wanted to be the cause of those tears now, and you wanted to see it.  “You want me to ruin you baby?” 
And Steve nodded desperately.
Masochism: 
Sexual arousal from pain, non life-threatening.
Eddie urged Steve to move, and the man above him got up on the bed, Eddie slowly slipping out of his asshole, making Steve whine at the loss of friction and stretch. He stood up and his legs almost gave out before Eddie immediately sat up to grab the back of his thighs to prevent him from falling down. Even if it were on a bed, he could fall back towards the headboard. Steve let himself fall on his knees and you could see how cock drunk he looked as you started putting the strap on, on yourself. 
Steve crawled towards you and your eyes widened as he took his tongue out towards the black tip of the dildo that came with the strap. He kitten licked at the fake slit of the head of it, and then took it into his mouth, letting his saliva start coating the silicone. You smirked as your eyes turned dark and Eddie saw the shift in yourself. Your hand shot up to grab onto Steve’s hair and he whimpered at the sudden pain. 
“What a cock drunk slut.” You hissed out and Steve whined at the degradation as you pushed your hips forward for him to take more of the silicone dick into his mouth, pushing his head further into it by his hair. 
“You know how to pick them.” You hummed at Eddie’s words and your hips slammed forward with force, Steve’s eyes widening as you didn’t let go of his hair and you started ramming your fake cock into his mouth, making his saliva drip down onto the comforter. You heard Steve gag and you grinned wickedly as he looked up at you with tears streaming down his face. 
“Look at his face Eddie.” Following your words, Eddie stood up from the bed, walking to stand next to you at the edge of the bed and his eyes widened at the beauty below him. He couldn’t see Steve’s face before, and now that he can see it, he realized how close he is to finishing, feeling his dick twitch and jump slightly. You grabbed both sides of Steve’s head and, in order to make a show for Eddie, you started pistoning your hips as you pushed Steve into you, making the tip of your silicone cock rub at the back of his throat repeatedly.
Steve gagged as gurgling moans were heard in the room, fresh tears running down his eyes as he tried to keep breathing through his nose but it was becoming too much. Yet, his dick was in desperate need for more. He needed more. The pain was just pleasure for him, and he wanted to be used, he wanted to be ruined, he wanted to be wrecked, and you and Eddie were making sure that he felt that way. 
“Jesus fuck. Get on your back Harrington.” Eddie ordered desperately and you giggled at how needy he sounded, grabbing onto Steve’s hair to pull him away from you. When your fake cock left his mouth, the poor man took a deep breath in to get oxygen back into his lungs. You looked down at how well he coated the silicone with his saliva, but you wanted to make sure that it remained pleasurable so you urged Steve to get on his back as you looked for the bottle of lube at the edge of the bed. 
Steve was panting, his shaft screaming for the need of release again. He laid back, looking at the ceiling and then Eddie’s face came into view as he looked down at him. Eddie’s hands came to rest behind Steve’s neck, pulling him a little more towards the edge and Steve helped him by scooting slightly in Eddie’s direction, but Eddie didn’t drop his head yet, knowing that you wanted to see Steve’s face first.
You opened the bottle of lube and squirted a nice amount of it onto the silicone, smothering it so it was nicely coated. You licked your lips in anticipation as you threw the bottle away and you crawled on the bed towards Steve, getting in between his spread legs. You smiled when you saw Eddie grinning at you as he held Steve’s head up for you to look when you finally wreck him.
“Ready?” You ask the man below you and he quickly nodded, his hips moving slightly with need and you bit your bottom lip as you put one of your hands behind his left knee and pulled it up to help him spread even more for you, while your free hand got hold of your fake dick, putting the tip at the already stretched rim of his hole. 
Steve frowned in pleasure, mouth falling open in a silent moan as you started pushing the head in slowly, driving your hips forward, your other hand grabbing the back of his other knee and pushing it upwards like the other. How could it feel so good? Was it because it was you? Was it because it was his owner taking him? He didn’t know, but everything just felt too good, and he knew he was defiled now. This was his now, his future, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. 
“M-More, please, please…” He moaned desperately and Eddie couldn’t help but chuckle as he listened. You smirked as you remembered what Eddie does to you when you ask something like that, so, you copied him. Your hips immediately slammed forward, and you knew he could take it. It was different from pussy, but he was already stretched, so the pain was not even going to be there. He cried in pleasure as you bottomed out in him, new tears forming in his eyes as he looked at you.
Your fingers dipped harshly into his skin as you started moving your hips back to then slam back in, a yelp coming out of his lips. You started gaining rhythm, moving in and out of him at a normal pace and you looked down at his face - it was love at first sight. He looked drunk, tears running down his face, his eyelids stopping half way, and you knew that his mind and all his rational thoughts were completely gone. 
That made your hips start moving  quicker against him, the slapping on skin and the clinking of the strap filling the room. 
“Oh Eddie, he is so pretty, so fucking beautiful. Thank you, thank you for letting me have him, thank you.” Your mind was foggy with desire, looking at how wrecked and red Steve’s face was as he moaned out your name over and over in a prayer. You looked at where your bodies joined, his dick jumping up and down at the movement of your thrusts. Steve looked up at Eddie, eyes showing need and desire. He understood. He dropped Steve’s head, letting it hang on the edge of it and Steve smiled as he came face to face with Eddie’s dick once again.
“Can I?” Steve asked and Eddie looked up at you. You smiled and nodded your head as Eddie grabbed his shaft, grinning as he crouched slightly in order to aim it towards Steve’s mouth. He had opened it already, sticking his tongue out so Eddie could fit it into his mouth as easily as possible. One of Eddie’s hands landed on Steve’s chest as the head of his cock was engulfed into the other man’s mouth. 
“I won’t go slow on you.” And Steve knew that. Eddie wasn’t like you at all. Eddie was a full on sadist, while Steve was the complete opposite and you were the mix of the two. That’s why Steve fits perfectly into this new equation, into this new puzzle, into this new partnership, relationship. He didn’t care what the label was, the only thing he knew was that he wasn’t going to leave you or Eddie any time soon. 
Your pace quickened when Eddie started going deeper into Steve’s throat and his thighs were grabbed by Steve’s hands to have some leverage for him to not move forward thanks to your thrusts. Eddie closed his eyes in pleasure as he felt Steve’s throat opening easily thanks to the position he was in, a heavy groan vibrating from the depth of his chest. He was close, he really was. Looking at you thrusting into Steve while he throat fucks him was starting to become his tipping point. 
He drove his hips backwards and back into Steve’s throat, feeling the vibrations of his moans sending shocks of pleasure all over his body. You bit your lip as you looked how deep Eddie was going into Steve’s throat, his pace starting to pick up and Steve’s saliva started making him gurgle around Eddie’s cock. You slammed your hips forward, diving into Steve, making him whimper around Eddie who let out a huff at the feeling. You stayed there and started grinding your hips against Steve’s, rubbing against his prostate back and forth.
He was so close, Steve was so close, and Eddie needed more. His hips started thrusting into Steve’s mouth more forcefully, making him gag slightly until he recovered and started breathing through his nose in sync with Eddie's movements. You chuckled as you let go of one of Steve’s legs, spitting into it so you could wrap it around Steve’s hardened dick. His eyes shot open for a second at the surprise of it, only to then close them as he felt you start to move your hips back and forth again, your hand following the rhythm of it making him moan even more around Eddie’s cock.
“Kiss me baby, please–” You begged Eddie, moving forward as you kept gliding your hand up and down on Steve’s shaft, his precum and your saliva mixing to let you move smoothly on him. Eddie grinned at you as he leaned forward, his other hand pressing onto the bed to keep himself up as his hips kept ramming into Steve’s throat. Your hips slowed down into deep shallow thrusts, making Steve cry in a loud whine every time you slammed yourself into him. 
Eddie finally clashed his lips against yours, and you moaned into his mouth, pussy clenching on nothing at all as you both went in and out of Steve Harrington. You could feel yourself having trouble thrusting in and out as easily as before because Steve was most likely clenching as he neared his climax. Your hand moved faster as Eddie bit your bottom lip, making you his in delight, feeling a copper taste fill your mouth. He pulls away from you to look down at Steve’s throat, seeing himself going in and out, and he pulls away from him, slipping his cock out of his mouth.
A choked sigh escaped Steve’s lips as he panted heavily, trying to catch his breath, the blood completely up in his head making him dizzy and the feeling of his orgasm  even more intense. He felt like he was going to explode as he bounced against your thrusts, moving quicker this time. Eddie’s hands wrapped against behind Steve’s head and he pulled him up so you could see his face again.
“Look at him Bunny… Look how broken he is.” Eddie said as he looked down at Steve’s face, a whine escaping the other man’s throat as your hand started moving in a rapid motion and the tip of the silicone dick started hitting his prostate repeatedly. 
“You’re going to cum for me, pretty boy? Let me see you.” And that was all it took for Steve to moan out your name loudly, a cry, a thank you, thick ropes of cum spurting out of his dick and onto his belly, some reaching as far as  his chest. You felt him drip down on your hand as you halted your movements because it became hard to thrust into him from how hard he was clenching on himself. 
He didn’t know for how long his orgasm lasted, but he felt drained, completely spent . When his body finally lost its tension and he let out a huff of breath, that’s when you pulled out, a whimper escaping Steve’s lips. He felt empty, clenching on nothing, knowing there was a big gape from his once small hole, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. His throat hurt from how hard Eddie had fucked him there, but that’s when he realized that Eddie didn’t finish. He opened his eyes to look up at the man that was still holding him up, with a smirk to his face. 
“What about you?” Steve says in a hoarse voice. He heard clinking on the bed and he was assuming that you were taking off the strap from yourself. Eddie chuckled and helped Steve to sit up on the bed, a wince escaping Steve’s lips, already feeling his bottom half hurting and sore. 
“On your knees, floor. The both of you.” Eddie replied and you looked at Steve with a smile to your face as you rushed to kneel in front of Eddie. Steve was surprised at how quick you recovered from what happened but he guessed your stamina grew stronger after a year of being with this man. He winced again when he moved his legs towards the edge of the bed and stood up on wobbly knees. He was definitely fucked out, but he wants to make Eddie finish, he wants to taste him.
So Steve kneeled down next to you, smiling up at Eddie in the same manner that you were. Eddie had his dick right in front of the both of you and you were the first to make a move. You leaned forward to run your tongue along the shaft on one side and Steve took the hint almost instantly, copying your movement for on the other side. You two ran your tongues back and forth on his dick, slurping sounds filling the room with a few of Eddie’s groans. 
Steve took the chance to glide his tongue further down, licking at the spot in between his balls and cock, to then completely swipe his tongue against his ballsack, making Eddie hiss. You wrapped his dick with your hand, moving back and forth as Steve started sucking on one of his balls, his mouth making a ‘pop’ sound every time he pulled away. You smirked at Steve’s action and licked your lips as you moved your head towards Eddie’s inner thigh and bit down onto his flesh.
That made Eddie come close to the edge.
“Tongues out.” He commanded and you two knew exactly that you had to stay still. Steve smiled at you as he pressed his face against yours, cheek to cheek, and the two of you were looking up at Eddie, tongues out, waiting for him to reward you both. Eddie moaned into his throat at the sight as he started pumping his dick with his own hand. This night was something that was planned for a year, and Steve had exceeded his expectations completely. He was going to have fun with the boy when you were on a mission or a meeting. That is if you let him, of course.
Eddie’s face twitched as his movements became desperate for release and his hips bucked into his hand once and twice, and then strings of cum started shooting out, coating your face, tongue as well as Steve. Eddie never came this hard, he had to keep himself from doing so the whole night, and he almost busted when he was inside of Steve. He somehow managed to not do so, so a lot came out but you two weren’t displeased by it, quite the opposite.
Eddie saw how the two of you opened your eyes and then looked at each other. Steve leaned forward to catch your tongue with his, smearing Eddie’s cum between the both of you, to then finally connecting his lips with yours, tongues dancing with saliva and Eddie. You both heard a chuckle above you and pulled away only to find Eddie smiling at the two of you.
“Aren’t you two so pretty?” You giggled alongside Steve and the lust that was in the room finally came to an end, at least for the night. Steve’s laughter stopped as he winced in disgust, looking down at himself, seeing his sweat and cum mixed together. You smiled at him, getting up from the floor and getting hold of his hands to help him up, making him hiss at the pain of his legs and bottom half.
“Time to shower and to take care of you, my beautiful boy.”
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Eddie was smoking as he laid his back against the headboard of his bed, damp hair falling over his shoulders. He had showered with the both of you and quickly ran back to the room to change the comforters into new ones while you ran a bath for Steve to help him soothe his sore muscles and clean him from all the lube that was used on him. 
You stumbled into the room, giggling with your arm wrapped around Steve’s, both of you in white robes, a smile never leaving Steve’s lips as you helped him walk on steady feet. You looked up to see Eddie in the center of the bed and smiled widely at him.
“Well you two are having fun so it seems.” Eddie commented as he took a deep swig of his cigarette, letting the smoke out of his lips and towards the tall ceiling. You rolled your eyes at him as you helped Steve get into bed on one side, a wince escaping his lips as his bottom touches the mattress. Eddie’s hand immediately reached forward to rub on Steve’s back, motioning him to scoot closer to him. 
Steve was surprised by the intimate gesture, but followed his guidance, hissing as he scooted closer to lay on Eddie’s chest as he cuddled up to him. Eddie’s hand immediately went to the small of Steve’s back, running soothing circles against the skin. 
“Don’t be so jealous about it.” You said and Eddie scoffed at that. Steve couldn’t help but think how crazy it was to be this carefree with the two of you after what you two had done to him. He trusted you both more than he ever trusted his father–
“Oh!” Steve sat up as he remembered something, earning him a grimace of pain in his features. You rushed to his side to see if there was anything wrong with him but he quickly regained his composure and looked at you. “Did they bring up the black bag I mentioned?” He asked, and you tilted your head, nodding at him and walking towards the walk-in closet that was in the room. Eddie was confused as he saw how you walked back in with what looked like a school bag. 
“Are we learning the ABC’s today?” Eddie asked with a snicker and Steve only rolled his eyes at him as you handed the bag to him. 
“I didn’t want to catch any suspicions with it, so I covered it up as a normal sleepover bag.” He took out a pair of pajamas that perfectly hid a black folder that nestled inside. He took it out, throwing the bag and clothes to the floor and handing the folder to Eddie. The long haired man raised an eyebrow at it, putting the cigarette in his lips as he took the folder in his hands and laid it on his lap. He opened it to start reading the content of it, a smirk slowly forming on Steve’s face. 
Eddie grabbed onto the cigarette again to finally let out a delighted laugh.
“You gave me your father’s clients. People I can blackmail. The rights to several bank accounts and companies. You know this will destroy the Harrington Emporium, right?” He asked but he knew the answer. You were giggling with excitement as you rushed to the other side of Eddie to take a peek of the list that was on his lap. 
“My father does not deserve the power that he has… You on the other hand…” Steve spoke in a sultry tone as he leaned again towards Eddie, placing a soft kiss against his chest, and your eyes were looking at Steve with adoration and excitement.
“Now Stevie… Don’t forget you are mine.” Steve chuckled at that as you leaned forward, right above Eddie’s chest with a pout on your lips. He leaned towards you to press a soft kiss on your lips before pulling away with a nod of his head. You two heard a throat clearing and you turned your heads to look at Eddie glaring down. You giggled and pressed a kiss on Eddie’s lips, and he let out a hum of contentment at it.
When you pulled away he looked at Steve and he copied your movement and pressed his lips against Eddie’s. When the two of them pulled away, Eddie had a sick grin to his face, and he realized that he now had it all. He had the power, he had the daughter and son of the biggest mob families in the district, and now the three of you would live together. And he knew Steve was good with bribery pacts, so he was going to be useful to Eddie in that sense.
Of course, there were feelings inside of each of you that were too complicated to put into words, so you all let it be as it is, and that was good enough. Eddie got the power, but you and Steve finally got the freedom you so desired. The freedom you two have craved since you were kids. You were owned, but not caged. You didn’t let people make decisions for you, and no one can tell you what to do now… Except intimately.
"Eddie~" You whined at him, making him chuckle as he turned to face you.
"Yes?"
"I didn't get to have your dick tonight…" You were pouting at him, Eddie shaking his head as he placed a soft kiss against your forehead. Steve giggled at your actions, only for him to now look at Eddie with a serious look on his face, catching the other man's attention.
"Can I finish inside of Bunny next time?" He dared to ask and Eddie chuckled darkly as he took another swig of his almost finished cigarette.
"I'll think about it, Pretty Rabbit. We just had a few things planned first, but they can wait for a while now that you're here with us. We will just postpone them for later on." At that Steve's head tilted to the side in confusion, looking towards you for answers. You giggled at his confused frown as you started talking while cuddling against Eddie's side.
"Eddie has all this new power and actions, and he wants the lineage of it to keep being… Munson." You softly said as images start jumping in your head, growing excited for it. Steve's eyes widened as he looked at Eddie for confirmation, who was already looking down at Steve with a smirk to his face.
"I need an heir."
Bang, bang, bang, bang, goes the farmer's gun. So run, rabbit, run, rabbit, run, run, run.
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Reblogs help artists to engage even more in this platform, only liking does not do much BUT I DO APPRECIATE IT.
a/n: well that was one hell of a ride, so I hope you enjoyed that filth!
SEE STEVE'S OUTFIT HERE IN THIS AMAZING COMMISION @pach-inks DID FOR ME
Taglist: @ghost-proofbaby @munson-blurbs @theflowerrooms @sidthedollface2 @mandyjo8719 @xxhellfiregirlxx @hellfirefiend @corrodedcoffincumslut @pastel-pillows
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dadsbongos · 2 months
Note
CAN U PLSSSS WRITE A CUTE DENJI FIC OR HEADCANON/DRABBLE?? honestly idrc care which it is (obvi longer is preferred but i understand and am open to whatevs u give)
like about reader (fem) has a journal and in it she wrote about her dream dude, but like perfectly described denji and accidentally left it out and while they were hanging out or something cuz they besties he sees it and realized like "dude, that's me!" or something and then like a fluffy confession or something IDK that's just what i have sprinting through my brain rn 🤓
also maybe a lil kiss 🙏
thank you for giving me a denji idea... been fiending to write for him and just had 0 ideas
word count - 1.5 K / warnings - fem reader, not proofread!!, au where makima dies and denji just gets to be happy with special division 4 and they are familycore
~~~
“And the point of this is…?”
“I dunno,” Himeno answers honestly, shrugging, “I read somewhere that you can tell a lot about someone from their partner.”
“None of us are dating,” Aki huffs, fingers itching over the protrusion of his lighter in his pocket.
“Their preference in a partner,” Himeno groans in annoyance, gesturing out to the collection of papers in front of each of you, “Besides, what else do we have to do right now?”
Fair question, no matter how junky the science behind Himeno's apparent reading, not one of you had anything better to do. A storm was raging outside the Hayakawa apartment, all of Special Division Four having pooled there before the clouds even rolled in. Before Kobeni could shyly crawl out from the rambunctious crowd, there was lightning and thunder and an ear-piercing flood warning blasting on the television. 
So, Aki swallows the rest of his complaints and puts his head down with the rest of your division. His pencil sprawling over the paper Himeno slammed in front of him to describe his ideal significant other. A tedious task he's all too eager to bullshit through as soon as Himeno is finished staring down at him.
Denji is tapping the eraser of his pencil against the kitchen island, eyes straying around the living room. He worried his bottom lip between knifepoint teeth; only stopping when he tastes iron. Even Power has started writing.
Even you have begun writing. He wonders what you're writing. He wishes he could stretch his neck and take a peek without being obvious. He wishes he could read it at all.
Denji draws a stick figure that takes up a quarter of the page, dragging the lead back over the chest to add breasts. He glances at you through the side of his eye before adding hair and a small smile. And the black hair tie snug around your wrist even though he's only ever seen you lend it to Kobeni and Angel. Now he really can't avoid it: Denji has no idea how to write. 
Hopefully he can just coast with a bland drawing and let everybody think he's as shallow as they probably already believe. But when he lifts his head to glimpse at everyone else's pages, Himeno is already freezing him solid with her icy glare. Denji tucks his chin to his chest and subtly twists in the island stool to look at your paper again. 
Bullet points go five lines down the page; and the only thing he can make out is one of the few characters Aki’s taught Denji at his request:
愚か. Stupid.
Denji's eyes bounce back up to your face, eyes a little gooey and smile all soft. He knows that goofy look well, it's how he finds himself everytime he thinks about you. Before he can lose himself in that, he's jealous. You're making that lovestruck face over some stupid guy that Denji can't even write a strongly worded letter to. 
Denji writes one of the other few things Aki has taught him. Your name with a bold arrow pointing down at the stick figure. 
Then he erases it. He scrubs the pink bud over your name so hard he tears the paper in half. A loud shirrr dragging every eye to his hunched form, shoulders hiking higher over his face at the increased attention.
“Hark! The fool cannot even spell!” Power cackles, “Show me his words! Show me his mistake!”
“Power,” you chide, as though she's a fitful toddler and not a horrific Fiend, “Be nice. You can't write either.”
“Liar!” she points at you with a shaking finger.
Kobeni shyly taps Power on the shoulder before pointing at the paper overflowing with Power's manic ideals of a partner, “Anything else…?”
“Honesty!” she glares at you sharply, “And unwavering devotion!”
“Right…” Kobeni mutters unsurely, neglecting her own paper as she continues to scribble on Power's.
“Ignore her,” you scoot your stool closer to Denji and he manages to flip his page over before you can see the drawing, “Do you need help?”
He’s nodding before his mouth can even pop open, eventually he manages to sputter alongside it, “Yeah, yeah!” taking full advantage of his new opportunity to squish right against you at the island, “Can you write…”
Patiently, you await his request and he can feel his heart pumping in his throat every time you bat your lashes at him all sweetly. Your pen leaves jet black dots as it dips in your weak grasp, Denji has lots of words to describe you and all of them knot together on the tip of his tongue, tangled and lashing to fall from his lips at once.
Ultimately, he settles for the least descriptive, “Nice.”
“Someone nice,” you nod and scratch that onto his paper, “I like that.”
Denji feels his whole body go junky with sparks of electricity, blood boiling hot at how you feel comfortable enough to drag your paper into his full view. You point at your top bullet point, nail tacking loudly into the surface when his eyes don’t immediately stray from your face to the words below. Your bottom lip is sucked between your teeth as you study his reaction, leaning your face even closer to his.
Though you’re blurry and jumbled in his peripherals, Denji can still make out the upturn of your lips. He looks over the rest of the page, desperately searching for any other words he can make out and mold himself to. That, or cope and make up some ways in which he’s at least comparable to your dream man.
He can make out: Pretty.
Do you think Denji is pretty?
He sees another one he recognizes: 歯 -- teeth -- but there’s two characters before that he’s useless against. 
Denji has teeth.
“Sharp,” you whisper into his ear, tingles raising along his pale flesh.
“Huh…?” Denji turns to look at you, heat rising far up to his ears.
An airy, almost delirious, giggle floats into his ears as you circle the two mysteries before teeth, “Sharp,” then you circle teeth, “Teeth. Sharp teeth.”
“You like guys with sharp teeth?”
“Love ‘em.”
Denji swallows harshly, shakily pointing to the next bullet point, “What’s that mean?”
農民を尊重する.
You press ever closer towards Denji, leaning your chin on his shoulder, “‘Respects farmers.’”
“I respect farmers…” he mutters dumbly, “I love their work.”
“I know you do.”
Denji blinks down at you, his thick lashes beating on his rosying cheeks and spiky teeth punching back into his lip. His breaths are short and hard, red overtaking his cheeks like a flustered little Kewpie doll. So precious and sweet, ready to crack beneath your palms. He’d trust you wholly, and you know you’d treat him well. He knows, too. You’re nice.
You laugh at his stunned face, posture rigid. The sudden shock making his shoulder jab up into your jaw uncomfortably -- you find it terribly charming. 
“I like girls…” Denji sighs out in a tremble, eyes trailing down your face, “I like girls with soft lips.”
“Do you?” you inch closer, by now long forgetting the presence of your friends and colleagues in the apartment. Teasing is fun, but teasing Denji is just the best.
“Mhm.”
.
.
.
After an awkward pause, Denji follows the quiet hum with,
“Can I… kiss you?”
You nod against his shoulder, chin digging down into the bone. Denji stretches his neck to kiss you -- and your lips are even softer and more sugary than he imagined. His hands scratch out to cradle you to himself, continuously parched no matter how much of you he has to drink in. Warm hands and arms around you, clinging and wrapping and pulling. Wincing from the prickle of Denji’s teeth against your lip, you cinch a hand around the chest of his shirt and wrench it towards you -- pulling Denji closer along with it. 
“You like me?” he utters against your lips.
Pulling back, you flip around your paper and sear your index nail around a very recognizable word, “My ideal partner. I was a little scared to share at first…”
Denji almost jumps right off the stool, ready to coop you in his arms and swing you around fully in front of his roommates and coworkers. Instead he laughs in full disbelief to himself, reaching down to squeeze your other hand in both of his. You’re briefly concerned he’s cutting off blood flow before the joy of his pure excitement overtakes that concern. 
DENJI is big and plain over the very top of the page. 
“What changed your mind?”
You snicker right into his ear and reach out to flip over Denji’s paper, torn at the top, “I could tell you felt the same, pretty boy.”
Denji squeezes your hand even tighter, giggling almost feverishly before he’s sliding off the stool, “Wanna go make out in my room?”
“Thanks for having the decency to move now,” an unpleasant sneer breaks Denji’s cloudy dream-turned-reality.
“Fuck you,” Denji hisses at Aki.
“I think it’s cute!” Himeno pushes at the back of Aki’s head, “Focus on yourself!”
You let Denji drag you from the kitchen island and towards his (and Power’s, not that she’ll be allowed in for the next however many hours) room. 
“So, you really think ‘m pretty?” Denji’s voice teeters just on the edge of snarky, but his skittish, red frame speaks louder.
“Prettiest,” you coo, kissing his cheek.
The affection has him seconds away from blurting out an awkward, ill-timed: You’re really my dream girl.
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senseichaos · 3 months
Note
Howdy howdy! I ADORED "You Can't Run. Hell. You Can't Even Hide" The balance between absolute fear, dizzy hypnotic confusion, and wide eyed admiration that the reader character holds for Vox is immaculate! Also them calling him Mister Vox is just Chef's kiss (it is WAY too hard to find xReader fics or even just fics in general where the honorific is Mister (C/N) and I love every one I find). The clothing change moment was probably my favorite, I'll always be a sucker for the representation of being broken and rebuilt in someone's image combined with the gift of pretty clothes. I keep going back to reread the whole story.
I know it's a oneshot, but since your requests are open, I figured I'd shoot my shot and ask if you would make a part two where Mister Vox just wrecks us, preferably sexually. We did leave off on him finding us trying to run away, do we not deserve to be punished for such an offense after all he's done for us? I also would love to see if/how much Vox has to push us to slowly become happy to be his, if that's something he wants (I could imagine having a rowdy unwilling runaway as his possession would get frustrating after awhile and be terrible for his image). There's honestly so much potential for what could happen next, and even though I could stew in my imagination, I would very much love to be at the mercy of your interpretation of the funky TV man a little longer.
That said, take your time, I know you've gotten a huge influx of Hazbin requests, hell I wouldn't be surprised if someone else already requested something similar to what I requested. I also understand if you can't/don't want to fulfill this request for any reason, that's what makes it a request. No matter what, you're an amazing writer and I hope you have a wonderful day!
💙✨
AAAAAAH!! I love you sm! When I saw this request I knew I had to do it at some point! I'm giving you the name 💙 anon from now on so if you request again I know it's you!
_______
Forever and always
(part 2 to: You can't run. Hell, you can't hide either)
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Summary: After that day you attempted to escape from Vox, you had become somewhat accustomed to this new life you are forced to be living. Or you were until Vox gives you your first day off, causing you to find something out that would change how you live forever.
Genre: Smut, Angst, Horror (?)
Warnings: Non-Con, Yandere behavior, Possessive behavior, Sadism, Masochism, Electric shocks, Mind control, Drugging, Love potion, Vox is an asshole, Hurtful language, forced, gilded cage, soul contracts, unprotected sex (DONT), Vox owns reader, dacryphilia, let me know if I missed any!!
(not proof read)
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That day you attempted to escape from your gilded cage you wished to escape again, though vox had managed to continue his control. Even when he tugged you back by your electric leash you felt that horrid sinking feeling. This was it. For the rest of eternity as you know it Vox has you. He owns you, your soul, your body, your life; or well, lack thereof. You couldn't run from him no matter what you did, he practically controls the pride ring, keeping you tethered there like a puppy on a leash is simple to him. He has eyes everywhere. You cannot hide anywhere.
Recently Mister Vox has become a lot more... Touchy. Those fleeting touches of his fingers against your back, poking against your chin, pressing into your neck, swiping against your bottom, touching against your bosom. There is an odd burning feeling to it, you don't want to enjoy Mister Vox touching you in such ways, you don't want to enjoy it when he sucks his teeth at you or licks his tongue against his gums. But you do. You can't quench that desire. Especially when he'd moved you into his room from your apartment building. He hadn't made you share a bed with him, thank Lucifer, but he had made you sleep near enough to him that you can tell when he's.. pleasuring himself. Almost as if he wants you to hear him.
You and Mister Vox have never been better, besides from such hurdles. You stay obedient no matter how badly you wish to escape his arms. To cut all of his tight bounds on your body and run away. You'd figure out how, one day, you would.
"Good morning my dear! Did you have a gratifying sleep?" This is how most mornings go, Mister Vox will wake you with a poke if your side and a coffee in hand, already fully dressed and done up. You've always considered yourself a light sleeper, so you never know how he manages to make you a coffee every morning without so much as stirring you awake. You smile, nodding softly as you pry your eyes from his two dimensional face.
"Thank you Mister Vox, uhm.. did you have a good sleep as well?" You ask, taking a sip of the perfectly made coffee. Vox smiles, nodding as he takes a seat on the side of your bed.
"Of course, my dear. So, I know you have been working very hard recently... So I've decided to give you the day off!" Mister Vox declares, outstretching his hands as he gives you a manic smile. A day off? Why? This has to be a test. he's just going to leave you.. alone? For a whole day? This has to be fake, a joke, a flook.
"Oh my dear don't look so surprised! You've been a very good girl recently so I thought you deserved a day off," Mister Vox pauses, looking up at the roof for a second before peering back at you. "Now don't think this means we don't have rules, you are to stay in here for the day. If you want to go shopping I have to accompany you, alright? But I do have an appointment in an hour so it won't be for long,"
"Remember, I have eyes everywhere.."
You laugh awkwardly, shrinking into your own figure.
"I know Mister Vox.. I wouldn't forget," You can't stop that sorrow from entering your voice, but quickly you put on that mask of a smile once again. Mister Vox clasps his hands together, that red dripping from his maw again. "Great! Now I'll see you soon, be a good girl for me, hm?" He says, ruffling your hair atop your head with a condescending gaze.
"Yes Mister Vox," you reply simply, watching as he disappears in Into a blue line of electricity, shooting into the camera.
Fuck. Now what?
You can't remember the last time you were given this type of freedom, even if it wasn't a lot of freedom. Often you were tethered to Vox's side. Everyone in the building knows that you belong to Vox. Everyone outside of the building probably knows this, too.
There's this odd feeling in your stomach, this odd feeling as if you were floating. It happened every time you drank your morning coffee, but you'd always assumed it was just that feeling of awakening from slumber. But today, oh today it is stronger than ever before. It's as if you can feel every nerve in your body be rewired, every single hair on your body stand on end. Every sensation is doubled.
What the fuck was in this coffee? What is this euphoria? What is this yearning.. this yearning for Vox? You suddenly wish he was here, with you, holding you, calling you his good girl.. m
Shaking your head to rid yourself of such thoughts, you stand from your bed, fixing the large blue shirt you wear (that vox often asks you to wear when you sleep) as you walk to the kitchen.
The kitchen in Mister Vox's room is a large area just off to the side of his desk space, lined with many kitchen appliances and red cabinets. You are determined to figure out what he's putting in your coffee, what's making you feel so emotional. Needy. Awful. You scan the room, finding the coffee machine in the corner of the room with a couple bags next to it. Coffee, sugar, creamer... Nothing suspicious yet, it seems. Crouching down, you look open the cabinets beneath the coffee machine. Looking through the half full area.
Then you saw it, a small vial hidden behind a spare bag of creamer labeled 'Valentino and Velvette: Love potion'.
Terror shoots through you, causing you to drop the vial to the floor. It shatters everywhere, leaving the pink liquid to seep into the tiles below. He's drugging you. All this time, you feeling this want for him, burning at his touch, listening to him as he jerks himself off late at night. You wanting him to do things to you. It's all part of his plan to make you his, completely. To make you want to be his.
Burning tears fall down your cheeks, humoring you as you stand on shaky legs from the tile. What do you do? Now more than ever you want an out, a loophole, a way to take your soul back from his greedy claws. Anxiety, terror, hurt, worry, pain.
You want to prevent yourself from doing anything drastic, you really do. But all you can feel is this pain, this pain as you run on your feet to the balcony door. Trying your hardest to pry open the doors as they rattle loudly, shaking them, pulling them, pushing them. This evil man can't keep you here for any longer. You'd do anything to leave, ruin yourself for him, do something awful, make yourself less attractive to him.
Nausea. Headache. Your knees buckle as an electric blue overtakes your vision. What is this? You can't breathe, Vox. Vox. Help. Your head clouds, words fill your brain and you feel yourself being wrapped up by sharp claws. You can't scream. Help me. Please.
"You really think it's that easy?" Mister Vox.
"I can't believe I trusted you alone, even for a minute. After all I've done for you, as well. After I gave you a life some would dream for. Stupid girl." He sounds mad, horridly mad. Regretful. Throbbing takes over your body as sound waves film your ears. You can feel him lift you into his arms, placing you down onto a soft surface harshly.
"How am I supposed to make you understand this? You're mine,"
Your vision slowly comes back, until all you can see is him as he stares at you from above. His eyes are dark, domineering, needing. He's ready to take. What is he doing? All you can feel is his claw as it travels up your middle, between the valley of your breasts, stopping at the middle of your neck.
"Now, my dear? Are you going to let me teach you a lesson? For being such a brat?" You gasp, feeling his hand as it circles around your neck, effectively taking some air from your lungs. You shake your head, attempting to move your heavy legs from him with wet teary eyes.
"Nonono! Get off, please, get off!" You cry, writhing in his grasp. He sighs, rolling his eyes as he clicks his fingers. Suddenly a pulse of electricity goes through you, causing a shock to blur your eyes and pull a scream from you.
"Every time you try anything I'm shocking you, Dove. Don't try to escape from me, it's not going to work," he grins, laughing at your frightened teary eyes. "I can do whatever I want to you, my dear! I fucking own you!!" He growls, using his hand that isn't around your neck to push your thighs to your chest, revealing your bare pussy from beneath your oversized shirt.
"No please.. I'll do anything..?"
"Oh I'm sorry dear, but this is what I want more than anything right now.. maybe you should have thought of this before making such a racket and alerting everyone in the building, hm?" He says, dragging his clawed finger through your building wetness. He finally takes his hand from your neck, instead using it to keep your thighs in place as he pinches your clit between his sharp claws.
"Ah! Mister Vox.. hurts..!" You wail, wiping your tears from your eyes as he continues to abuse your sensitive bud between his fingers. He chuckles looking up at you as you gasp in pain.
"Hah! Wail all you want, dear, no one can save you." Vox guffaws, finally taking his claws from your clit. Only to plunge them into your aching hole without warning. You moan out, feeling the sharpness of them inside of you as he curls his fingers into your g-spot.
Mister Vox revels in your wails of pain and pleasure, fucking you with his clawed fingers harsh and fast. His claws are surely are scratching you from the Inside, he can tell by the way your hands tremble and clasp over your lips.
You can't help but feel good. This masochism of yours that forces it's way into you. Every scratch of his fingers inside of you just makes you want to cum. You can't give him that satisfaction, you can't let him know that you are enjoying every second of his claws thrusting inside of you. This is awful. You hate it. You hate that you love it.
"Is my little dove enjoying this? Awe.. to scared to admit you fucking love this?" Vox laughs sadistically, giving you an extremely harsh thrust of his fingers into your g-spot. You squeal, vision going white for a moment as his fingers go at this manic speed. You feel your orgasm build, wishing to break through the walls and release. But you can't let it, you won't let him have that. You'll never let him have that feeling knowing he's won.
"If you don't cum I'll fucking ruin you, dove."
You gasp and choke on saliva, clawing on the bedsheets below as he forces you to orgasm. There's no getting out. He knows that you are trying not to cum. And he won't let it happen.
"Yes.. Mister Vox.." you say softly, hole clenching around his fingers as your orgasm crashes over you in waves. Vox makes sure to drag it out, giving you slow rhythmic thrusts of his fingers to watch your body contract and writhe with pleasure.
"Good dove, listening to commands for me," He says softly, stroking the side of your cheek as he kneels between your legs. You want to pull away, but once again that burning and yearning feeling fills you. That stupid potion had an effect, and you can tell. From the way you feel a dizzy want when he looks at you to the wetness that continues to build between your thighs.
"Now, I'm going to fuck you so hard.." He laughs so himself, smiling crazily as he presses his hand to his face. "I'm gonna fuck you SO FUCKING hard, you won't even remember who I am anymore! How does that sound, my little slut?" Your lower lip wobbles as more tears threaten to fall from your eyes.
"Awful.." you whisper.
Another strong electric shock goes through you, causing you to scream out Mister Vox's name in pain as your body is left shaking and aching.
From the corner of your eye, you see Vox unzipping his fly.
"Wrong answer! Haha! Wrong fucking answer stupid slut," He growls, pressing the tip of his cock to your hole without a care. There something wrong with him, he's acting more crazy than ever before. He's getting off on your fear, getting off on your pain, getting off on knowing you can't do anything but be his.
With a loud slap, Vox sinks his entire length into you. You scream, clutching onto the bedsheets for dear life as he looms over you. He doesn't even give you a moment to let you rest, immediately setting a ruthless pace with his hips into yours. Every thrust causes your vision to go spotty with the pure force he drives his hips with, groaning with every thrust as he stares completely into your face as it scrunches in a pleasurable pain.
"S'too much! M-Mister vox It hurts!" You cry, reaching out to press your hands against his shoulders, clawing into his coat. You don't even care anymore, you want at least a small bit of comfort from these strong unforgiving thrusts. Vox chuckles at this, leaning down closer so he can capture your lips in a (forced) yet passionate kiss.
His long electric blue tongue immediately finds its way into your gob, passionately fornicating it against your own as his thrusts send you into a sort of floaty state. Vox maps the entirety of your mouth, tasting every crevice of you from your lips to the back of your throat. He thrusts almost ravenously like a dog, tip of his cock sometimes painfully pressing against your cervix.
Pulling away, Mister Vox looks Into your eyes, revelling in the way you claw at his back. You whimper and moan loudly, eyes fluttering closed as a tear falls down your cheek. He kisses it away, looking up at your closed eyes with a grin.
"Open your eyes, dove. Look at me while I fuck you." You cry out, opening your eyes for him so you can see him look at you with pleasure.
"Y-yes Mister- Ah! Vox.."
He chuckles, thrusting into you extremely hard. You can see the bulge of his cock in your stomach, poking against your skin in such a way you almost want to touch it.
"I'd fucking breed you if I could, fill your filthy cunt with all my little babies so then you can't even dream of leaving.. but I can imagine," Vox rambles, taking your cheek into his hand so he can look at you longingly- and almost affectionately. If it weren't for the position you're in you'd almost be enjoying this moment.
"Mister Vox!" You cry, back arching as your orgasm begins to prod at your stomach.
"Hm?" He asks, grunting as he thrusts into you.
"Can I cum? Please! Please please please.." You beg, legs quivering wildly. Vox chuckles, giving you an adoring look as you bite your lower lip.
"Awe look at you! Asking Mister Vox to cum and everything.." Vox begins, biting his lip as you sputter on a moan. "Of course you can, dove. Let go so I can fuck my cum into you.."
You scream his name when you cum, digging your nails so hard into his back you're sure his coat has tears in it.
You'd given up. Well and truly. You wouldn't admit it. But you've finally accepted it. You belong to Mister Vox. Forever and always.
Forever and Always.
Vox gives you one last thrust, emptying his cum into you with a moan from his own lips. Eyebrows furrowed in pleasure, Vox drags out his orgasm by serving you a few more small quick thrusts, making sure every last drop is inside of you.
But when he has, he doesn't pull out.
"Mister Vox.. pull out.." you whimper, wiggling your hips against him.
"Haha! As if. I said i'd fuck my cum into you, didn't I? I haven't done that yet.. okay?" He asks, stroking a hand through your hair.
"Yes Mister Vox."
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