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d4rkhold · 9 months

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blood set ablaze

Marilyn Thornhill x Fem!Reader

OVERVIEW: After studying late into the night at the library and completely losing track of time, you realise you might have to wait a very long time to catch a train ride home. Luckily, your botanical professor, Marilyn Thornhill, also appears to still be on campus and offers you a ride home. Her act of kindness poses a question to you: what could you ever do to thank her?

WORD COUNT: 6.5k

WARNINGS: (18+ NSFW) heavy smut, praise kink, sub!reader, dom!marilyn, legal age gap, alternate universe - college/university, oral sex, fingering, orgasm denial, blood

A/N: After many, many months - I am finally back (with a very nasty fic)! I apologise for the long period of radio silence; life was quite busy these past few months and I completely forgot I had this piece in the drafts. Nevertheless, enjoy!

Your eyes widen at the spectacle in front of you; the auburn-haired woman’s eyes are fully blown, and her tongue darts out to lick at the blood on her lips. Something equally sinister and ravenous twists in your stomach, and you can’t tell if it’s a good feeling or not, but you don’t have time to ponder the odd fervour that starts to contaminate your bloodstream because she suddenly surges in for another kiss, devouring you all over again.

All you can do is close your eyes and let your mouth find hers for what feels like the hundredth time tonight.

— — —

People say they like winter, but when it rolls around to the season of frost coating the tips of grass and shorter days of sunlight, they suddenly wish it was summer – or, more precisely, that they didn’t have to trudge through the freezing rain at night.

As you walk through campus, your hands are shoved in your coat pockets, clutching tightly at the inner fabric to stay warm. You were so caught up with your studies in the library that you didn’t realise how late it had become and how the stars had replaced the setting sun so quickly.

The rain isn’t too heavy, but the air is a bit too cold for your liking. You had also forgotten to bring an umbrella and a warmer coat when you left your place, putting all your trust into the weather app on your phone – which had stated there would only be light rain in the afternoon and clear skies afterwards. Apparently, the weather decided to change its mind.

On another note, it’s also the beginning of finals season, and you’ve been absolutely stressed from head to toe, leading to your nose being stuck in various textbooks during most of the day, every day. While your friends keep up with a balanced life, seamlessly juggling their social lives and academia, you find yourself wholly fixated on your studies, determined that you’ll be able to perform at your very best when you have to sit your exams.

You stop for a second to pull out your phone. The trains from Jericho frequently run during peak hours, such as, in the afternoon and in the evening when people finish work. But right now, it’s late at night, and you’re almost sure you’ll have to wait at least forty-five minutes for a ride home.

Now it’s suddenly hitting you, that regret of deciding to stay so long in the library to study when you could've done all your work at home. The dampness of your hair, the shivering of your body, and the formidable darkness of the night sky fuel the feeling of regret so horribly well that it makes you mutter out an annoyed ‘fuck’ from your lips.

It doesn’t help that most of the trees on campus are terribly monstrous and old, having existed here way before the academy was even built. They crane over both sides of the large and endless cobble footpath, creating a scene that looks like something straight out of a gothic horror movie.

The trees sway with the gentle wind and rain, causing branches to prod and clip at adjacent ones. You stand on the path under a leafless tree with your left hand shielding your phone from the rain, checking for the train timetable.

You’re too busy scrolling on your phone and lost in thought to hear the sound of clicking footsteps in the rain approaching you from behind. It’s not until you stop feeling the droplets of rain hit your face, and a strange earthy saccharine scent fills your senses that you look up from your phone.

“Behind you,” a cheery voice muses out through the rain pattering on cobblestones. The tone of voice is a little ironic, considering how unsavoury the current weather is.

You turn around on the balls of your feet to meet a familiar face – perhaps a little too familiar – for you have tried to memorise the details of her face during lectures and put in extra hours of study to ensure you were always on top of things for that paper. Sometimes, you would sit at your desk in the middle of a study session at home and think of her and nothing else; thoughts of plant anatomy would digress into ones filled with an auburn-haired woman in denim overalls and hazel eyes that glowed behind wide-rimmed glasses.

Marilyn Thornhill is your botany professor, and somehow she’s standing here with you in the dark, umbrella in one hand, shielding you both from the rain with an alluring smile on her lips.

She’s always cheerful and passionate about everything. You can’t help but feel like a moth to a flame when she’s around; your eyes relentlessly follow her hand gestures while she speaks, drawn to her persistent positivity that you wished you had on your bad days.

“Professor Thornhill! Oh- hi!” Your fingers absentmindedly turn off your phone in a moment of surprise. “What are you still doing here?”

Marilyn smiles warmly, despite the chilly air causing ears and fingertips to go cold. “I was going to ask you the same question, sweetheart.” She pushes up the glasses sitting on her nose bridge. “I was just marking papers in my office and running errands for Headmaster Weems.”

The pet name sends a slight wave of heat across your collarbones, but you convince yourself it’s just your body’s physiological response to the cold. “Oh, cool,” you simply reply, afraid something stupid will slip from your lips.

“And how about you, Y/N?” She steps a little closer towards you to ensure her umbrella is keeping you dry. “I don’t know of any extracurriculars today that run until late,” she says lightly with a questionable look in her gaze.

“Oh, I was just studying in the library, and I kind of lost track of time,” you sheepishly smile and turn on your phone to check the time before turning it off again.

She starts to snake an arm around the small of your back, and you suddenly find yourself walking with her in the rain. Your feet seem to be on autopilot as they walk in sync with her, the sound of two pairs of shoes clicking against the wet pavement, echoing off into the distance.

Your body is starting to register the realness of her touch as the heart in your chest races slightly faster than usual. You don’t know exactly where the two of you are going, but you know you’re content with being in the older woman's presence.

It makes you wonder: when did you start crushing on the older woman? Was it when you first laid eyes on her during your first botany lecture? Was it during your laboratory sessions in the greenhouse where she’d squeeze your shoulder in encouragement when you were stuck with an experiment? Or was it, perhaps, when you would ask her questions after lectures, and she would look at you with a twinkle in her eyes, pleased that you were so invested in botany?

Marilyn gently retracts her arm from your shoulder and breaks the silence. “Do you have a ride home? It’s terribly late, and I wouldn’t want you going home all by yourself.”

Your heart is about to jump out of your chest at her considerate words. “Oh, I’ll be okay; I’ve got a train to catch at the station that’s scheduled to depart soon.” you smile meekly at her, uncertain about the truth of your own words.

She frowns at you, clearly unamused. “I don’t know how I feel about you walking alone to the station at night and in the pouring rain.” She stops walking and puts a hand on her hips. “Why don’t you let me drive you home?”

You laugh nervously. “Professor Thornhill, I don’t want to be a hassle for you,” you momentarily look down at your shoes and back up at her. “I’ll be fine. I’ve taken the train home many times at night before.”

The woman before you tilts her head disapprovingly, clearly not having any of it. “Oh, sweetheart, it’s no hassle at all. It’s important that my students get home safely,” she says with a hint of firmness in her tone.

You contemplate her words for a moment. “Okay, if you say so.” You give her an appreciative smile, and she gives one back and nods in acknowledgement.

You follow her to the staff car park, occasionally making small talk with the older woman about the weather, how lectures were today, and plans for the weekend. It’s no surprise when you find out that she’s planning to renovate her garden and read a biography about a famous horticulturist. You imagine her garden to be filled with life: exotic winter flowers and plants covering the place, a variety of colours spilling everywhere.

The two of you arrive at her car – a purple Volkswagen Beetle. She unlocks it, allowing you to get inside and sit yourself down.

You fiddle with your fingers in the passenger seat of her car while your botany professor checks her mirrors. She notices your movements in her peripheral vision and asks what’s the matter.

“Is everything alright, Y/N?” She doesn’t turn to look at you, but you find yourself immediately ceasing your movements. You open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out at first.

“Sorry,” you say, clearing your throat. “My hands are just a little bit numb from the cold, that’s all,” you lie.

Truthfully, you’re nervous about being alone and in such close proximity with the auburn-haired woman. You’ve always admired her from afar, yet here you are now, just an arm's length away from her, sitting in her car.

Marilyn turns and unexpectedly goes to clasp her hands around your own hands. Your breath hitches in your throat as you feel her soft, warm fingers wrap around yours, gently caressing your knuckles. Your mind is quick and cruel, conjuring an image of her hands situated around something else…

… The base of your neck, cradling it gently. Her fingers move to trace invisible lines from your jawline to your throat. Without wasting any time, her free hand begins to squeeze at your trachea gently, and you feel your airways constrict slightly. With wide eyes, you watch as she surges forward, about to replenish your oxygen with a kiss-

Your humiliating imagination doesn’t last long as you’re jerked back into reality by her voice.

“Oh dear,” she pouts sympathetically. “You’re like ice! Don’t worry, I’ll get you home in no time so you can get all warmed up.”

And it’s over, just like that. She retracts her hands from yours and starts the ignition of her car. You find yourself missing her touch, biting the inside of your cheeks as you try to ignore a peculiar feeling beginning to brew within your chest.

You give her directions to your place as she drives through the gates of the academy. Your elbow rests on the car door, supporting your chin as you stare out the window, watching the beads of rain run down the surface. Professor Thornhill has the radio playing at a low volume, where you can make out the sound of a violin and a piano chiming in a gentle rhythm – a classical piece you’ve never heard of before.

“I never thought you’d be the type to listen to the orchestra,” you say with a hint of curiosity, eyes still following the droplets of rain.

You’re too busy looking out the window to see the smirk that’s made its way onto the auburn-haired woman’s mouth.

“I enjoy listening to a lot of things,” she hums.

— — —

“Well,” she says. You turn to look at the woman in the driver’s seat as she announces, “We’re finally here.”

You resist the urge to tuck a stray piece of hair dangling near your eyes behind your ear. For a moment, the low sound of the car engine humming away is the only noise that fills the silence as the two of you sit, gazing off into the distance of the dimly lit street.

“Thank you so much for driving me home. I really appreciate it, Professor Thornhill,” you say, turning your head to offer her a grateful smile.

She gazes back at you through her glasses, almost as if she’s trying to study you. Her eyes roam – and she doesn’t hide the fact that she’s doing it. When her eyes drop to your lips for a split second, your brain doesn’t know if it’s your imagination or not.

She’s pushing her glasses up and looking right at you again, but this time with an indecipherable look.

“It was no problem, sweetheart,” she says in a low gentle voice. “I’m satisfied that I definitely know you’re home safely and in one piece.”

Your heart warms – truly grateful that she took the time and consideration to take you home. You’re so grateful that you don’t realise you’re suddenly spilling offers from your lips.

“Do– do you maybe want to just come inside for a glass of water or use the bathroom before you drive back to your place?” Your heart hammers against your rib cage after the words leave your lips.

She lets out a light, appreciative laugh. “Oh, Y/N… How kind of you, but it’s quite late, and I don’t want to disrupt you from getting a good night’s rest.”

You finally tuck the loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Well, you wouldn’t be interfering with anything, and honestly, it’s the least I can do to repay you for taking me home.”

Marilyn’s fingers find her keys in the ignition, and in one movement, the car’s engine stops. “You are sweet,” she pauses. “I won’t stay for long then.”

The two of you climb out of her car, and you wait as she locks it. You begin to lead the way to the entrance of your place, hearing the sound of her footsteps following closely from behind.

For some reason, there's a feeling in your gut that her eyes are burning into your back as you start to unlock your front door, yet you don’t know for sure.

You don’t even know what you’re trying to achieve right now, inviting the professor you have a crush on into your place.

When you step inside and hold the door open for her, it earns you a smile that almost seems like a smirk, causing you to blush briefly.

Her eyes roam the interior of your place, admiring how cosy it looks. “What a lovely place you have, Y/N. Do you live by yourself?”

You smile nervously. “Thanks, it was a team effort,” you say, running a hand through your hair. “I’m currently living with two other people. I think they’re at a party right now or something.”

She hums in response, and you watch as she goes to adjust her glasses. “That’s lovely. Why aren’t you at the party with them?”

“I thought I would leave partying until after exams are over and focus on studying.”

“Good girl.”

Your throat almost instantaneously goes dry at the praise. God. Nobody will ever understand the effect this woman has on you. How simple words that leave her lips can cause your heart to quicken; how she makes you feel like melting into a puddle with the quirk of a lip. Not even you will ever understand how she makes you feel this way.

Not wanting the older woman to notice the state you’ve fallen into, you suddenly mention, “Oh, the bathroom is just down the hall and to the left if you need it.”

She squeezes your bicep as a “thanks” before leaving you alone. You let out a breath – almost like a sigh – as the ghost of her touch lingers on your arm, and her sultry voice echoes in the forefront of your mind.

You go to grab two glasses, fill them up with water and settle them down on the kitchen bench as you await for her to return.

Hmm, you mumble to yourself. Your eyes dart to the couch and the coffee table across the room. You think it might be more comfortable for the two of you to sit there instead of standing at the kitchen island. It wouldn’t be very nice for your guest to remain on her feet, considering she must be tired from standing and pacing back and forth during her lectures today.

As you pick up the glasses and begin to walk over to the couch, you suddenly crash into something, causing you to drop one of the glasses onto the floor. Countless shards of glass scatter on impact, water droplets splash up onto your pants and pool onto the floor.

Your eyes widen in shock when you realise you’ve just crashed into Marilyn as she was returning from the bathroom.

“Professor Thornhill– oh my god, I’m so sorry! Are you alright?!”

You internally curse yourself at your clumsiness. It makes you want to dig your own grave right there on your kitchen floor.

The older woman, though slightly taken aback by the sudden collision, remains calm, her face softening at the look of concern on your face.

“It’s alright, Y/N. I’m perfectly fine,” she says with a reassuring smile. “Are you okay?”

You look up at her and lock eyes, searching for any sign of distress. She doesn’t show any visible irritation – or anything of the sort – but your concern for the woman persists, guilt simmering in your throat at your own idiocy.

Marilyn notices your worry and goes to reach out a comforting hand, squeezing your arm. “Truly, I’m alright. I’m unharmed; please don’t worry.”

You finally release a breath of slight relief, convinced that’s alright. “Okay,” you say gently.

The floor is a mess: bits of broken glass and a pool of water where the two of you stand. Luckily, your clothes or hers aren’t too wet, just some splotches of water here and there. You decide to offer her if she wants a towel anyway.

“Do you want a towel? I don’t want you to feel cold or anything.”

“I’m not too wet; it’s alright.” Your stomach shifts at her words as you think about something else entirely. “Thank you, though.”

The other glass is in your hands, still intact from the accident but is now almost empty. You bend down and place it on the floor and begin to pick up the large pieces of broken glass, not wanting to cause any more accidents.

“You can sit down if you like, and I’ll get you another glass of water,” you say from the floor as you collect the shards. “I’m just going to clean this up quickly.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she lightly laughs and looks down at you. “I won’t let you clean this up by yourself.”

“Please, don’t worry! It’s absolutely fine- shit!” You let go of a piece of glass you had just picked up, blood suddenly oozing from a newly-formed cut on your fingers.

A look of worry is all over the older woman’s face, and she immediately bends down to your level on the floor. “Oh dear, are you alright?”

You hold out your bloodied hand before you and watch as she peers at your injury through her glasses before taking your hand into her own. She delicately turns your hand around to examine the severity of your injury.

“It just stings a little… I’ll be alright; I have bandages and antiseptic somewhere in the cupboard,” you nervously chuckle as you notice that she’s still holding onto your hand.

For some reason, you look at her eyes and see they’re dilating. Both of you are on the floor with hardly any distance between the two of you, with her holding your bleeding hand and you on your knees. Most people would not think twice about a situation like this, but for you, it sends your heart marching, becoming progressively quicker.

She flicks her gaze up at you. The abruptness of the action makes you freeze like a deer in headlights, feeling like you’ve just been caught doing something wrong.

You suddenly realise what she begins to do, and it threatens to spin your head completely off your shoulders, like a screw coming off a hinge.

She has the palm of your hand flat and open and goes to dip her head while you watch in shock as she begins to lick a stripe of blood from your fingers. You sit and stare as your chest rises and falls, feeling dizzy from the sight before you.

She looks at you as she does it. Not for a single second does she look away, causing you to feel paralysed in place. You swear that you’re dreaming because this can’t be real.

Unexpectedly, you feel a rush of heat sink to the bottom of your stomach, and you swallow thickly – a revelation of your own self-semblance slipping through your fingertips second by second. Her gesture feels like the strike of a match against the box. It’s bold. It’s so riveting. You don’t know what’s happening to you. You don’t know what she’s doing to you.

This has to be some sort of ridiculous dream you’re having right now.

“Fuck,” you can’t help but mutter out loud. She hums when she hears the profanity escape from your lips, encouraging her even more because now she’s taking your forefinger and middle finger into her mouth, right up to your knuckles.

You feel her tongue swirl around your digits and over the cut caused by the broken glass. A wave of arousal washes over you, making you close your eyes and breathe deeply. You don’t say a single word – you’re too lost for words. Even if you tried saying something, it’d probably come out incoherent.

Without warning, you feel her mouth retract from your fingers, prompting you to open your eyes. She leans forward, slowly licking her lips and chuckling at the wide-eyed expression on your face.

“Why don’t we continue this somewhere else, sweetheart?” Her voice husks in the small space between the two of you. “We can deal with the mess later. It won’t be going anywhere.”

She stands up and holds out a hand to you. You take it, and she pulls you up from the ground. Your feet begin scrambling backwards to the couch, and she follows you at a close distance, almost like a fox backing her prey into a corner with nowhere to run to.

You let her push you down, relishing in the way your back hits the soft material of the couch. She doesn’t waste any time and immediately straddles your hips with a smirk forming on her lips.

Your fingers don’t seem to throb from the cut anymore, but now something else seems to be.

Marilyn hasn’t kissed you yet, but the neediness within you is almost reaching its threshold. A whine leaves your lips as she brings a hand to hold your jaw firmly.

“Please,” you breathlessly say, desperate for her to touch you – to do anything to you.

She just chuckles and goes to take her glasses off. “Patience, Y/N.”

You can’t help but sigh at the sight of her without her glasses. You’ve always seen her wearing them in lectures, and you have never seen her without them on.

“God…” You breathe out in awe.

She quickly transfers her weight and leans away to place her glasses on the coffee table. When she returns to you, she bites her lip at the look of desperation on your face. She runs a thumb over your cheek before lowering her face close to yours.

And she surges in for the kill.

You think about everything and nothing all at once. It makes you wonder how you’ve been able to live this long without experiencing the pure feeling of Marilyn’s lips on yours and how her hot, wet tongue prods against your lips. You immediately grant her access as impatience and desire start to flow through your veins, spurring you on.

The feeling of her tongue in your mouth draws a groan from somewhere deep within your chest, and you feel absolutely wild.

She kisses you like you’re something sweet. You can feel your tongue against hers, wet and hungry, kissing you messily without relenting.

Your hands wander to the back of her neck, pulling her impossibly closer to you. The cut on your hand is long forgotten, now threading through auburn locks of hair.

Marilyn pulls away from your mouth and snakes around to your ear, where you can feel the soft skin of her cheek against yours. Her hand finds the collar of your shirt and tugs at it.

“I want you to take everything off, darling,” she husks into your ear before pulling away and getting off of you so you can comply.

You feel yourself grow wet at her words, heart beating so ferociously that you swear Marilyn can hear the pounding drums in your chest.

The woman in the question gazes down at you, pupils dilating and dark as she watches your hands fumble for the hem of your shirt. You partially sit up, pulling the material over your head and dropping it carelessly on the floor somewhere.

You’re left topless in a simple black lace bra. Goosebumps begin to form on your skin, and you’re unsure if it’s because of the cold or how you see Marilyn subtly bite her bottom lip at the sight of you.

You let her eyes linger on your form for a moment before your hands glide down the plane of your stomach to the top of the waistband of your jeans.

Her eyes follow the movement of your hands, waiting in anticipation for you to make the next move. However, something devious racks your mind, urging you to test the waters.

You wonder what she would do if you, perhaps, mess around a little bit.

Your fingers find the button of your jeans, toying with them slightly before popping them open. Immediately, you look at Marilyn to see her fiery gaze burning into you, waiting for you to continue. It sends a shiver down your spine. It feels thrilling to be seen like this. By her. By the woman that is Marilyn Thornhill.

Your fingers rest on the zipper, unmoving as you await a reaction from the other woman.

“Oh, sweet girl, do you really think that is a good idea?”

“What do you mean?” You pretend to be confused by her words, fingers gently fiddling with the zipper.

“Sweetheart.”

Oh, god. The sternness in her voice makes you feel more aroused, and you blink several times to maintain your composure. You remain unmoving but flash her another look of faux naivety. It appears that she has a short fuse.

“You’ll regret this later on. I’m going to make sure of it.”

You don’t have time to say something witty back to her because she’s surging forward and clambering on top of you again, her mouth attacking the skin under your jaw.

She sucks and nips gently, making you let out little gasps. It’s certain that she’s going to leave a mark on your skin; the mere thought of her doing such a thing causes you to groan.

Marilyn smirks against your neck, proud of herself, knowing she’s making you feel this way. She kisses a wet trail from your neck to your throat and ends up in the valley between your breasts.

Desperation causes you to slip a hand underneath your back to unclasp your bra. The other woman helps you take it off and tosses it somewhere behind her.

She rests on your lower stomach, leering at your exposed chest from above.

You feel yourself grow embarrassed, hands clenching and unclenching at your sides, wanting to cover yourself up. Marilyn must notice this because she brings a thumb to your lower lip and strokes it gently to soothe you.

“My gorgeous, gorgeous girl.”

You blush and grow hot at her words, low and almost raspy, dripping from her lips like honey you could drink endlessly.

“I’m going to take care of you,” she assures you. “I’m going to fuck you like crazy.”

You gasp as her hand goes to your left breast, fingers running over a nipple, causing you to flutter your eyelids at the feeling. She leans down and kisses you while she kneads your breast, her movements growing rougher with each second that passes by.

Marilyn leaves your lips, causing you to whine in frustration. Her mouth then latches onto your breast, gently biting and sucking your soft skin. She repeats this with your other breast, causing you to release a breathy sigh, the sensation of her swirling tongue on your nipple becoming absolutely electrifying.

The throbbing between your thighs grows, becoming almost unbearable. You’re a terribly impatient person; you won’t deny it. Unashamedly, you grab her free hand and trail it with yours down your stomach to the waistband of your jeans, a few of her fingers tucking slightly underneath the elastic.

You give in, begging her to touch you as impatience sears through your body. “I can’t take it anymore. Please, Marilyn.”

She raises an eyebrow at you and lets out a breathy laugh, amused. Her warm, lithe fingers remain unmoving at your waistband for a moment before she slips her hand out of your grasp to pull down your zipper so her hand can move more freely.

The older woman pulls out your own hand from your pants and replaces it with her own. Marilyn traces a finger over your clothed cunt, forcing you to bite back a moan.

“You’re already soaked…” She murmurs, eyes flashing with amusement.

You swallow thickly. The sensation of her touch has every inch of your skin on fire, your blood set ablaze.

But it’s not enough.

You need more.

You try to wriggle out of your jeans. Marilyn notices this and helps you, tugging them off roughly, along with your underwear.

The coolness of the air hits your sex, sending electricity through your spine. You're suddenly hyperaware that you’re lying naked underneath your botany professor, about to be fucked by her.

She runs her fingers through your arousal, spreading it around your entrance gently. Without warning, she slips two fingers inside you, and you think: this is it; I’m going to die tonight.

But for some reason, you’re certainly convinced that you’re more than willing to die at the hands of your botany professor; her hands that feed the Venus flytraps in the greenhouse; her hands that grip a textbook while she’s lecturing. You’re willing to lose every bit of yourself to her entirely.

“Fuck,” is the only thing you manage to breathe out, spreading your legs wider for her.

“Oh, just you wait, sweet girl.” She’s starting to increase her pace, and you gasp loudly as she curls her fingers perfectly, in and out of you continuously. “I’m barely even started with you.”

She picks up a brutal pace, coaxing soft moans from you with each thrust. It doesn’t take you long to feel the knot in your stomach tighten, prompting your heart to race even faster.

“More, please- I think I’m going to-“

“Oh, no, you don’t,” she says cruelly, pulling her fingers out of you, causing you to cry out. She stands up and begins tearing off her clothing; your mind is trying to process what she’s just done.

“You think you could tease me like you did before and get away with it?” She unclasps her bra, letting it fall to the floor. “I don’t think so.”

You simply watch silently as she undresses, dragging her underwear down her legs. She does it slowly and delicately, eyes fixed on you. Your eyes have a mind of their own, scanning her from top to bottom, slowly. Embarrassingly, more wetness leaks from your cunt, drooling down your thighs.

When she’s finished, she presses her exposed front to your own, lying on top of you as she begins to kiss you again. She kisses you sensually, tongue prodding the inside of your mouth. You moan into her mouth at the feeling – at the feeling of her mouth and her naked body on yours, warm skin against yours.

Your arms encompass her body, pulling her impossibly closer to you. You absentmindedly dig your nails into the soft skin of her back, causing her to groan against your mouth.

“Profess– Marilyn…” You whimper in between kisses before she suddenly stops. “Please, I’m sorry for teasing you before. I’ll- I’ll be good this time.”

She leaves an inch of distance between your lips and hers for a split second, contemplating your words. Without warning, she goes to kiss you again.

This time it’s different; you feel like you’re being devoured by her. The thought causes you to groan into her mouth. She retaliates by biting your bottom lip – hard.

You feel the skin split open and start to taste the metallic tang of blood on your tongue. When she moans, you know she’s finally got a taste of it too. The kisses become sloppy, and you feel more wetness pool between your thighs as the two of you relish in the taste of blood and the heat of wet tongues colliding against each other like waves against the rocky shore.

Marilyn goes to nip at the same area on your bottom lip again, certain for more blood to spill from the wound. You almost yelp out in pain and surprise; it never occurred to you that there lies a much darker side to her under all her cheery smiles and dignified praise in the classroom.

She pulls away from you, leaving your chest heaving and your heart pounding at your ribcage. You feel how your bottom lip throbs from how hard she bit you. It wouldn’t be a surprise if you looked into a mirror and saw your lips swollen from kisses and bites and your face flushed, covered by a thin sheen of sweat.

All you can do is close your eyes and let your mouth find hers for what feels like the hundredth time tonight.

Your nails dig into her bare shoulder as she kisses you, holding onto her for dear life. She kisses you rhythmically while you follow along, just as if she’s the conductor and you’re the orchestra at this very moment.

It’s just like the music that was playing on the radio in her car – the sounds of pianos and strings intertwining, forming a melody both so delicate and ferocious at the same time.

Her fingers trace down your side and between your thighs once more, fingertips briefly grazing the soft skin there before she drags a finger through your arousal and circles your clit. The action is familiar; you just hope she’ll finish you off this time.

You’re panting as blood rushes to your ears and head, lost in the sensation of Marilyn’s touch. She plunges two fingers into your core and begins pumping in and out of you at an increasingly erratic pace while simultaneously rubbing that sensitive spot on your cunt, drawing mewls from you.

You feel something beginning to tighten in your stomach, hips buckling as you near the peak. The sounds of her fucking you fill the room, humility wavering in your mind temporarily before you decide that you don’t care about anything else right now.

“I’m almost there,” you pant out, voice slightly hoarse from all the noises you've been making.

She tsks. You want to cry as she denies you an orgasm for the second time.

Marilyn stops touching you completely and doesn’t say a word; she leaves you with a bewildered look on your face, your mouth hanging open stupidly, whimpering in frustration. She flashes you a quick smirk, and you notice a bit of blood in the corner of her lips. You resist the urge to surge up to her and lick her lips clean of your own crimson sap.

Before any words can leave your throat – pleading for her to continue, begging unashamedly – she slides down your body, grazing her fingertips along your frame. She doesn’t waste any time as she goes to lick one long stripe through your cunt before entering you with her tongue.

A noise escapes your lips, breathy and high-pitched, almost like a hyena. Your hands fly to the older woman’s scalp to tug at her auburn locks, causing her to hum into your cunt, evident that your pleasure is also hers.

Marilyn’s lips attach to your clit, and it doesn’t take that much for you to feel the knot in your stomach start to uncoil, causing you to squeeze your eyes shut as you arch your back and come into her mouth. Her name breathlessly leaves your lips like a desperate mantra you thought you would've never heard yourself say out loud until tonight.

You feel her tongue continue to attack at your core, even after you’ve came. Her pace doesn't falter, causing you to moan louder and louder. Soon after, you find yourself arching your back, muscles straining, coming once again.

It takes you a moment to come down to earth, steadying your breathing after a moment of ecstasy. The older woman uses a thumb to rub gentle circles on your thigh. She sits up. Her hair is messy from you pulling at it, and some of your arousal is still on her lips, causing you to flush at the sight.

She catches the way you stare at her, and she makes a show of slowly licking her lips. The gesture is erotic. It causes you to feel that familiar flame within you start up all over again.

“Now.” She pauses. “I wonder what you would look like on your knees for me.”

You sit up on your elbows, watching Marilyn swing her legs around to sit on the couch properly. You realise you haven't spoken for a minute because she goes to tease you.

“Oh, sweetheart, has the cat got your tongue?” She looks at you, pouting with mock sympathy.

You swallow thickly and shake your head in response. This was going to be a long, long night. You just hope your roommates decide to stay at the party until tomorrow morning.

“That’s what I thought.” She smooths a hand over her thigh. “Now, why don’t you put that tongue of yours to good use?”

#marilyn thornhill #marilyn thornhill x reader #marilyn thornhill smut #wednesday 2022 #christina ricci #laurel gates #wednesday #wlw #wednesday netflix #marilyn thornhill x fem reader

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satansfavoritestripper · 1 year

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#scenes from warmer weather #pretty #cutie #sun hat #summer #cant wait for summer ☀️🌊#selfie #sfs #me

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eddies-house · 7 months

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Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 |

Smoke Signals

Chapter Eight - Sweet as Apple Pie

W/C: 6.9K

Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader

Honesty ensues well into the quiet hours of Halloween.

A/N: this chapter is so full of dialogue....do y'all prefer a lot of dialogue throughout chapters or more scenery descriptions? Or a good amount of both?

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The living room was only illuminated by the flashing, gory scenes from the TV playing A Nightmare on Elm Street. It wasn’t your first choice and you had made that clear as you talked your way through the intense parts, keeping your focus on the popcorn bowl in your lap as you scavenged for a melty M&M. You preferred something more lighthearted but your unintentional guest insisted that with it being Halloween and all, it was ‘like the law’ to watch a horror movie. Perhaps you were somewhat okay with it, at least you didn’t have to pretend to have fun at a party and you were in fact cozied up on the couch watching a movie while eating your Halloween candy like you’d longed for in the first place. The only difference was the blood and violence playing out on the screen that you hadn’t planned to endure.

“You’re not even paying attention.” Eddie tosses a pillow your way, sending popcorn and M&Ms tumbling all over your lap.

“Eddie!” You scold.

When you glare at him, you’re met with an expression that can only be recognized as the kind someone exhibits when doing all they can to contain their laughter. Crinkled eyes and pursed lips ready to explode in a fit of boyish giggles. He wasn’t drunk anymore, no longer able to escape your incessant teasing should you choose to hold it over him.

A handful of popcorn mixed with candy is flung at him, a piece successfully clinging to his hair and several M&Ms rolling down his chest into the crevices of the couch that would never see the light of day again. There’s no ignoring the adorable pout on your lips and the way you’d become such a stubborn thing from the smallest inconvenience.

“Haven’t I been through enough tonight?” He frowns, dramatically picking the snack out of his hair to toss it toward you, landing somewhere on the rug below for you to some day clog your vacuum with.

Ignoring his question, the bowl is abandoned on the coffee table, movie long forgotten about as you bring your legs up to your chest and shift your eyes directly to him. Beneath his remaining eyeliner, you can make out the exhaustion forming under his eyes, bags growing more intense with every waking hour, his chapped lips parted ever so slightly as the light from the TV flashes over his features.

You begin to feel selfish for changing into your fluffy pajamas earlier, your pants a checkered orange and black pattern while you opted to wear a well loved gray t-shirt with faded letters that could barely be made out anymore. Eddie remained in his black jeans and tattered cut off, his jacket that previously adorned your shoulders hung snugly on the hook near the door.

There was no way you had anything that would accommodate his long legs although you could probably get by with offering him one of your larger shirts. You wonder if his skin is covered in goosebumps or if he tends to run hot and remain unbothered by the chilliness of your home. Embarrassingly so, you hadn’t learned how to use the fireplace yet. Blankets were a necessity and you found yourself cuddling up with nearly five at a time as the weather grew more frigid.

“I meant to ask, what is your costume? Yourself?” You question. An attempt to ease into offering him something warmer to wear as well as genuine curiosity.

“No?” He leans forward laughing, his attention bouncing between you and the movie. “Ozzy. Ozzy Osbourn.” He states proudly.

His tattoos draw you in as he brings his arms up to cross over his chest, his posture uncharacteristically comfortable on the opposite end of your couch. You were sure he was almost sober so it must have been sleep deprivation allowing him such luxury. A laugh bubbles in the back of your throat as you process his costume, something so convenient as it was practically his actual wardrobe, only a tad more revealing than what you were used to him wearing.

“What, so you just smudge some eyeliner on and you're Ozzy?” You giggle.

“Oh.” He scoffs. “And you put your hair in pigtails and you’re Dorothy?”

“Um, no?” You cock a brow. “A lot of work went into my costume. It just looks like you shredded up your poor shirt and smudged black all over your eyes.”

A giggle vibrates through his body, an actual giggle, almost a squeal as he buries his head in his hands. Another postcard for the space in your brain that was becoming larger with each interaction.

“Also, aren’t you cold? I’m fucking freezing and I’m covered in layers–”

Eddie continues to laugh, the image of a slap happy boy becoming clearer and clearer. His heavy hand makes contact with his thigh, deep chuckles following as you study the crows feet forming at the corner of his eye. Extra prominent tonight.

“I am–I’m fucking cold.” He throws his head back.

It’s contagious, the energy lingering in the air as you join in. You’re unaware of what’s so funny; it seems the mundane act of being alive is hilarious.

Tears threaten to spill, the kind that don’t come around very often; the kind that hold pools of joy, seas of dopamine longing to spill down your cheeks. A salty mess that would paint the prettiest memory, glossy eyelids and parted lashes more immaculate than any piece of art Eddie could imagine. Before you can allow him to indulge in such a sight, fat tears of euphoria are sucked back in, any excess wiped on the pads of your fingers.

“Do you…want a shirt? I-I dunno if I have any that’ll fit comfortably but…if you’re cold? Or I might have a sweatshirt!” You hop up, recovering from your fit of laughter in your moment of realization.

You don’t give him time to answer, immediately retreating to your room. His heart feels as if it's gnawing through his chest at the way you worry about him; the fact that you would even be concerned for his well being is still something he would never get used to. Not many people have offered him that courtesy throughout his life, always equating his family name to something undeserving of any friendly gesture.

When you return, an oversized navy blue sweatshirt in hand with a grin on your face, he swears his heart convulses on the spot. And when your fingers brush against his as you offer it to him, his lungs are rendered breathless, the desire to linger a little longer pulling him in like gravity. Your soft skin against his rough fingertips is enough to mess with his brain chemistry, reducing him to a useless man at your mercy, though he’d never admit it. Not because he didn’t want to but because he was him, and why would someone as delicate and kind hearted as you ever settle for someone as damaged and twisted as him?

Someone so dainty, so lovely, would never in a million years look at him and find him desirable.

When he thanks you, it comes out as an ungrateful mumble, his eyes suddenly glued to his lap in insecurity. That look on his face that you’d come to recognize, a look of absence. His mind fed on him and sucked him dry of emotion, eyes blank and devoid of the life that just seconds ago they were so full of.

“You okay?” You ask, a gentle approach, voice velvety soft with hints of concern.

He doesn’t give you a verbal answer, only nodding while his gaze stays on his lap, the sweatshirt held weakly between his ringed fingers. His silence is reason enough to believe that it was a lie. You just couldn’t put your finger on what exactly had happened in the time you’d left the room to you handing him an article of clothing.

“Do you want…to go to sleep?”

The question pierces his doughy brain, stuffed with self depreciation and alienation, only a smidge of room available to process your words. But even as the words puncture his thoughts, the self hatred won’t deflate fast enough. So he stares. He stares at you, those big chocolatey eyes dipped in sadness and self loathing, the ambience now melancholy. An ache seeps into your chest, traveling up your throat and stinging your eyes at the sight of such a sorrowful man who had just moments ago blessed your ears with his deep laughter and looked at you with such glee. Suddenly he was gone and once again, he was chasing his inner monologue, you could tell by the way he stared off into the distance, how he had removed himself from the room momentarily.

“Hey, what’s going on?” You crouch in front of him, the blue light from the TV the only thing allowing you to map out his features.

“Nothing.” He whispers, snapping out of his trance.

His irises warm up, only slightly, but you can still make out the muted glaze cast over them leftover from his moment of despair. He isn’t out of the woods yet.

“I-I’m fine. Sorry, was just…thinking.” He mutters, slipping the sweatshirt over his head, the material fitting comfortably over his torso, hair now frizzier than before.

“What are you thinking about?”

You almost lose him again, thoughts swallowing him and nearly drowning him right before you. But the touch of your hand over his pulls him out, a token of your kindness. A wordless reassurance that reels him back in.

“Everything.” He sniffles, head shaking as if to ward off the waterworks.

Eddie doesn’t let any tears fall, withholds them. Forces them back into his tear duct, regretting the vulnerability he was further pushing onto you.

“Like what?” You gently push, thumb stroking over the back of his hard working hand.

Moments follow your question, contemplation behind his gaze while he hesitates. The world seemed to never be patient enough for him. So you would.

For him, you would.

As the gap of silence grows larger, you only give him more encouragement in the form of your thumb continuing to stroke his knuckles, your stare soft on his profile. There was no rush, not when he’d just hours ago welcomed you into his tortured past. Not when his nose crinkled as his eyes grew wet again, lashes coated and lip bitten between his teeth anxiously.

“Um–” He chokes out, not a single tear allowed past his waterline.

You offer a squeeze of your hand, sympathy pouring from your touch into him. He only tenses up at the sentiment, its effect foreign to him.

“I should go.” Dragging his hands down his face, he’s puzzled when you stop him from standing.

“Eddie.” You maintain eye contact with him, even as his eyes dart around the room, you attempt to keep him focused on you. “I don’t know what’s bugging you but…it can’t be anything crazier than what you’ve told me tonight.”

Uncertainty pools in his dark irises, honey hues nearly gone in the almost-dark room. The TV lighting only offers you the tiniest crumb of espresso and swirling caramel that usually brought him to life. Though, you aren’t entirely sure they’d even be there had you turned the lights on, his grim demeanor clearly yanking away any happiness he had experienced moments prior.

“I-I–why…why are you trying to help me?” He struggles to get the question out, appearing to be engaged in an internal battle, almost as if he was blindly attempting to make his way back to you, his mind holding him hostage.

You can’t hide the surprise taking over your face, the utter horror at the fact that he would ask such a thing. Maybe he regretted sharing everything now that he was allegedly sober again? But that didn’t change your feelings on the topic, you cared. Whether he word-vomited due to his scattered brain thriving off the alcohol or whether he was stone sober, his feelings mattered to you and you wanted him to know it.

“Because you’re a person, Eddie.” You begin, once again taking his reluctant, clammy hand and draping your touch over his knuckles. “Any person deserves compassion. So what’s bugging you? I won’t judge. Promise.”

Holding your pinky out, an empathetic smile paints your lips.

“Pinky promise.”

Within seconds his eyes go from dark discs of despair to those famous honey pools of fondness. You take note the way he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his pinky around yours, warmth blossoming in your chest and spreading all throughout your body. And if he needs another moment of quiet after that, he doesn’t communicate it but you gladly welcome it.

My feelings. My feelings are bugging me. Taking me hostage.

It’s what he wants to say but realistically he shoves the dreadful words into the back of his throat as he comes up with something else, another way to convey his thoughts without simply outing himself, making a fool out of himself that you would surely laugh at.

“I-uh, I’m not very good at this.” Eddie tries to escape the conversation.

To be fair, he did the same thing with his therapist, it wasn’t anything personal. It was his own flaw. But you may have better luck than his therapist, he regrets. Simply because he would become something he didn’t want you to see him as: an emotionally stunted boy with too many complicated feelings, love drunk on the first girl who had given him more than the time of day. Just because you were nice to him, didn’t entitle him to reciprocated feelings.

“That’s okay. I don’t think anyone is.” You whisper.

Eddie’s eyes shut tightly, his thoughts too painful to voice yet he forces them out–or rather they claw their way out of his throat the second he looks into your begging eyes. Wordless pleas reach out to him as his brain threatens to shut down any and all communications.

“I just–I don’t…I shouldn’t even be here.” He sighs deeply. “I-I don’t deserve to be here.”

At his admission, you find it difficult to voice anything comforting. Any words you had waiting for him were swallowed at the raw emotion he was displaying. The look on your face forces him to continue, he needs to fix the situation but he fears he may just make it worse and chase you further away. He had been digging his own grave for some time now, never learning when to just stop and lay in it.

“Chrissy–um, Chrissy.” He whispers, eyes fluttering shut.

None of it made sense and he was trying his hardest to wrap things back around and allow you to make the connection in your head.

“You–you remind me of…C-Chrissy.” A tear trails down his cheek, his hand rapidly wiping it away as he pathetically attempts to repair the conversation.

Instead of offering another squeeze to his hand, you make your way onto the couch next to him, thigh dangerously close to his as you run a hand up and down his back. You expect the discussion to end there but he only continues.

“And–and that scares me. Cause, it-it should’ve been me, I should’ve been dead–I should be dead!” Eddie’s face grows more red, the topic clearly weighing heavy on his heart. “I can’t–I can’t do it again.” More tears flow down his tinted cheeks, uncontrollable at this point.

“It feels–it feels l-like it’s going to–to happen again.” He becomes more and more worked up, barely breathing while he rushes the words out in one breath. “Like–like the universe or some shit i-is gonna punish me.”

Your eyes sting, that uncomfortable frown beginning to pull at the corners of your mouth as you watch him self destruct before you. Something you’d never ask of him though he was voluntarily spilling the contents of his bleeding heart into your hands.

“Okay, okay.” You begin to soothe.

“I d-don’t get good things.” “G-good things don’t–don’t happen to me.” He hiccups.

“Shhh, you don’t need to get upset with yourself.”

Bravely, you go to use the corner of a nearby blanket to blot at the tears trailing down his face to which he flinches away, shaking his head. That alone would normally be enough to send you to the other side of the couch, bashfully avoiding eye contact until he took the initiative. But something within you realized that he shouldn’t be left to take the initiative. Not when he was displaying such pain, such vulnerability that you were convinced not many people had ever seen.

“God, so pathetic.” He utters under his shaky breath.

“Hey.” You softly scold, hand wrapping around his forearm. He doesn’t flinch at your advances this time. “You are not pathetic.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Eddie.”

“Don’t throw me a pity party.” He grits.

“I am not throwing you a pity party. Stop that.”

It’s out of character, the way you stand up to him. If it were anyone else you probably wouldn’t have made it this far into the conversation but you can feel your blood boiling as he dismisses his emotions. You can’t sit by and allow him to continue throwing punches at himself. Your sudden anger appears to silence him, his glassy eyes glancing at you in disbelief but still obeying your demand.

“I’m being a hypocrite but I-I just…stop.” You whisper, the devastated look on your face enough to bring him to his knees if he were standing. Instead he remains seated with his focus solely on you.

“I know…” You search for the right words. “I know what it’s like to feel like you don’t deserve good things.”

Eddie doesn’t interject your speech, only listens intently with sad eyes and wet cheeks. He doesn’t deserve the time day let alone your dedication to his sorrows and worries.

“I, um, I grew up practically raising my siblings.” You begin to explain. “And, um, that responsibility really makes it feel like your needs come last. And it just gets worse and worse as the years go on because…it’s hard. Feeling emotionally neglected while tending to everyone else’s emotions.”

His gaze doesn’t once wander, completely devoted to you, to your story. There’s not an ounce of judgment seeping out of him. The familiar feeling you were so used to when you opened up every once in a blue moon where you felt deeply misunderstood and silently criticized was nowhere to be found. All you could make out was pure empathy. Compassion. Curious brown eyes searched into your soul, not just scraping the surface but fully diving into the depths you so willingly lead him to.

“I-I don’t know what it’s like to lose someone like that–like you did Chrissy.” You tread carefully, as if you were afraid to even mention her name. “I mean–I lost my dad recently but…I didn’t witness anything and it was because of health issues. We weren’t close and I actually…really hated him.” You nod, staring meanly into the carpet.

“But, I, um, I know what it’s like to keep people out. It’s not fun but it’s all we know isn’t it?” You chance a laugh, earning you the tiniest upturn of his lips. “And I mean, things are fine with my siblings and my mom, I guess. But it still feels like I need to shut them out. To protect their emotions. And for some reason it just…makes sense to leave them out of it? I dunno.” Your voice trails off, confidence wavering.

“It does make sense.” Eddie speaks up, voice scratchy.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” He bites his lip, canine digging into his own flesh before releasing it to speak again. “Feels like they wouldn’t get it. Or they shouldn’t have to. At least that’s how it feels with Wayne. I know I can tell him anything but…why bother him with all the shit going on in my life when the man has already gone through hell because of me?”

He takes in a deep breath before sighing and continuing. “Fuckin’ had to raise a kid that wasn’t even his.”

There’s a certain disappointment to Eddie’s tone, a condescending scowl splayed across his face, only directed at himself as he twists his rings around his fingers.

“Um.” He pipes up again, seeming to snap himself out of a trance he’d lured himself into. “‘Nough about me.” A smile spreads over his pretty lips, not a genuine one.

“Eddie.” Like silk, your tone is soft.

“Stop doing that. You don’t have to do that. Not around me.”

His chest deflates with an exhale, his pretty eyes still wet and wandering around the room. There’s a lost child hidden within them, someone desperately trying to cling to the current adult reality but appearing to get lost in the process. That look was too familiar and there was a sliver of relief in knowing you weren’t the only one who wore it but it yanked on the most tender parts of your heart to know Eddie was suffering just the same as you, if not more.

“T-tell me about Chrissy.” You whisper. “Only if you want to.”

When Eddie’s roaming gaze finally lands on you, he never would have expected to be met with such sincerity. Not a drop of malice in your voice, not one trace of aggression. The kind that he was buried in when forced to confront a whole town who suspected he was responsible for her death. Every mention of her name was always followed by an accusatory finger and seething anger, pitchforks practically aiming for him. The worst part was he didn’t blame them. Now, he didn’t mention the hellish underworld beneath Hawkins to you and had explained that the earthquake took Chrissy with a vengeful force right in front of him. You had no reason to believe him, but you did. You could’ve believed he was a murderer as everyone else. You didn’t. A piece of him wishes he could go into detail about the horrors that once lurked under Hawkins but he’d already breached his contract enough telling you that he was attacked by “creatures”, never going into full detail and telling you that they were gigantic bats. And you didn’t seem to mind, never pushing for further explanation, only taking what he was willingly giving to you.

“I…” He begins. “I…she…she was…”

“I’m sorry, you don’t have to–”

“No.” He whispers. His fingertips swipe underneath his eyes, collecting a fair amount of running eyeliner. “I-I uh, I want to.” He nods to himself.

“Chrissy was uh, was one of the good ones. Not a mean bone in her fuckin’ body.” Eddie starts. “Even if she was in the ‘popular crowd’ she never bullied anyone. She thought I was mean and scary at first but…she never…she never showed it. She’d wave to me every now and then.” He laughs at the memory, only making your soul ache.

“Now that I think about it, maybe she only waved because she was scared of me.” He chuckles in self deprecation. “Can’t blame her. Everyone’s scared of me. Always have been.”

“I’m not.”

Your sudden interruption has his brows knitting together, a softness overcoming his eyes. He was a mess of a man and you continued to tend to him as if he was deserving of any of your attention. He wasn’t, and he truly believed that.

“What?” Eddie attempts to buy some time, stupidly racking his brain for something of some kind of intelligence.

“I’m not scared of you.”

“I–thought you were. I mean, I wasn’t exactly…nice to you when you first moved in. I yelled at you all the time–you don’t have to lie to me.”

“I used to be, yeah. I’m scared of practically everyone before I get to know them so it wasn’t just you. But I’m not anymore.” You explain honestly. “Keep telling me about her. If it’s not too much. She sounded like she was a lovely person.”

“Yeah. Yeah, she was. Had a crush on her for like forever. Like since middle school when we kinda hung out at the talent show.” Suddenly, he’s shaking his head again, as if to erase his previous thought. “It’s stupid. ‘M twenty four and I’m whining about–”

“Stop.” You whisper, a bold hand squeezing at his knee. The action sends his nerves into a frenzy.

“Nothing you say is stupid.”

No one has ever been so patient, so accommodating over his feelings and deepest tragedies showcasing themselves in his darkest hours. It’s strange enough that he begins to wonder if someone is pulling a prank on him. If he’s being played like a violin only to be laughed at when the curtain is pulled back. He couldn’t help it, it was all he had come to learn after all. Eddie knew you didn’t have it in you to commit such a heinous act against another individual but his mind had been poisoned time and time again, only sending him into a spiral of ‘what-ifs’ any time positivity lingered just out of his reach to grasp if he was brave enough.

“I barely even knew her.” He seemingly gives up, hand lightly smacking down on his thigh. Your touch remains on his knee, burning a hole into his bones as he stares at it.

“That’s okay. You clearly care about her.”

It makes him want to scream, the way you validate every sentence he utters out. It’s not what he’s used to, his therapist never even gives him this amount of attention. And it’s not fair that a soul like yours had been damned to hear his problems and witness everything that made him ugly. Eddie was convinced that his soul was tainted and if he imagined what it looked like, it was an inky black stain on reality with hardly any signs of life. If he only knew that in the two months you had known him, he was the most vibrant and adoring soul you had ever come across.

“I–we just–we really connected. Right before she died.” He manages to struggle through his mind demanding that he internalizes his thoughts. “It felt–good. She saw me…for me. Instead of some–some motherfucker that poisoned the town’s precious ecosystem and she didn’t see me as…a freak.”

You offer a nod, an encouragement for him to keep going. His heart that he kept locked up tight in his chest had been slowly oozing out of him, trickling into your living room.

“She, um, she had a boyfriend. Jason.” He clears his throat, staring at the ceiling. “He was an asshole. Not to her, he treated her real nice. But when Chrissy wasn’t around he was a douchebag. Started a manhunt for me when shit went down. He thought I—he–he thought I killed her and—and sacrificed her?” Eddie almost questions, as if he couldn’t believe his own words.

“All because…I was the leader of a Dungeons and Dragons club.” He admits bashfully. You only let your thumb glide over the rip in his jeans, a comforting gesture. “Everyone, uh, thought it was a cult. Satanic panic and all that shit.”

“That’s fucked.”

“I agree. Super fucked. Especially because it dragged everyone down with me. Dustin basically put his life on the line for me, I’ll never be able to make it up to him.”

As he expresses his gratitude, Eddie pulls his right arm out of the hoodie sleeve, pulling the material up to display his bicep to you. The one with the very badly doodled character, somewhat resembling a gnome.

“But…” He drags out, slapping the ink proudly. “This did really excite him at least.”

You examine the drawing, taking his bicep in your hand without a second though as you try to determine exactly what you were looking at. You didn’t want to offend him but you genuinely couldn’t make out the picture. It was messy and scribbly and could have been created by a five year old. “Eddie, I’m sorry but–what is it?”

“Dustin drew it. It’s his D&D character.”

“Oh!” You smile brightly.

“You don’t have to pretend it's good, he’s a shit artist.”

“Not shit. Just…inexperienced…maybe?” You joke, wincing at your own words.

“Very.” Eddie confirms. “Dustin’s more of a brains kinda guy. Gareth and I took care of all the artwork, y’know like logos for the club and our band–”

“You had a band?” A grin sneaks past your lips.

“I–uh–yeah.” He admits with defeat, his shoulders slumping.

It’s only then that you realized you still had been tracing your fingers over the inked drawing, not one protest stopping you from doing so. In fact, Eddie only glanced down briefly and smiled, his cheeks tinting pink. It wasn’t clear whether it was because of your touch or because of embarrassment.

“Hang on, when did this all end up being about me?” He glares at you with mock anger.

“No, no, no. Don’t turn this around. What was your band’s name?”

“Jesus Christ.” He whispers, distress evident in his tone though his face only conveys amusement.

Eddie didn’t have to entertain the playful conversation that had suddenly engulfed the two of you. He didn’t have to banter back or let you touch his arm. He didn’t have to talk about Chrissy even though his mind was plaguing him and he was the one who brought her up. Nothing was required of him and you made sure he was aware of that.

But oh, how you reveled in his endearing blanket of an aura as he allowed you to peek behind the oh so heavy curtain that hid his deepest and most tragic thoughts.

–

Marvin’s Grocery had become more and more familiar with your frequent trips over the weeks. You were determined to perfect an apple pie recipe that would make anyone melt at the taste. Donnie had extended an invite to her famous Thanksgiving dinner and though it was weeks away, preparations were still under way, your oven enduring more use than it ever had in its short lifetime.

Guilt ate away at you as you placed the freshly baked pie on the counter to cool. You didn’t want to be an intruder but Donnie was so insistent when gracing you with the plans back at the supermarket. It would be your first Thanksgiving away from home and you were set on spending it alone, preparing to create a one person feast and pig out all by your lonesome. Now, you were going to be faced with at least 30 other guests according to Donnie. That was intimidating enough and when you tried to reject her invitation to save yourself some embarrassment, she only interrupted you, stating that everyone is going to love you and that even your short time in the spotlight at the Halloween bash left a great impression. That everyone wanted to get to know you.

Then she bestowed the responsibility of one dessert upon you. Everyone was required to bring at least one dish, store bought or homemade…it didn’t matter as long as you contributed. You had weeks to perfect it and though you didn’t need to go through the trouble, the people pleaser in you raged on.

Cinnamon and nutmeg graced your nose, a comforting scent that had you salivating and yearning for a piece of warm, gooey apple pie. The kitchen was a mess, bowls scattered along the counter top and a bag of flour leaking onto the floor. You were usually consistent in keeping clean as you worked but the daunting task of perfecting your pie held your complete and undivided attention.

Buttery, flaky crust called your name as you finished folding your laundry. The TV blared some popular sitcom that had to have been new as you didn’t recognize it. Regardless, the pie had interested you more.

It came out beautifully, nearly commercial ready with the criss cross crust and everything. This was your best outcome yet and you only hope it tasted just as delicious as it looked. You’d finally perfected the design and it didn’t completely deflate on itself this time, a win in your book.

Regretfully, you cut into the perfect dessert, forming the perfect triangle and plating it as delicately as possible. This was your baby as far as you were concerned and the passion that had gone into it was going to be recognized, even if only by you. A quick dollop of whipped cream is placed on top, the only thing missing was ice cream although you weren’t the biggest fan of pairing the two treats, satisfied with just the baked slice of heaven.

It was too flawless, the slice had been perfectly cut and presented like a five star restaurant had prepared it. Such perfection could not be recreated and you simply needed at least one witness to applaud your work or at the very least acknowledge your newly discovered baking skills.

–

Two knocks and no movement. Yet…

The breeze nips at your cheeks, leaving you to regret not throwing a sweater on even if only for a few seconds. Your hand shields the fresh slice of pie, a desperate attempt to conceal its warmth. Your masterpiece would not be spoiled at the hands of the inevitably changing weather.

Another two knocks. A bit more urgent this time.

You can hear shuffling just beyond the door, an eager shiver running down your spine. Irritation begins to build within you at the stinging sensation at the tip of your ears, the temperature being especially unforgiving.

Two more knocks.

“I’m comin’, I’m comin’.”

You hear the grumble and can’t help but feel your spirits lift.

“Wha–Bambi?” Eddie reveals you, a shivering mess on the porch with your hair in disarray and a plate of pie in your trembling hands.

Without hesitation, he steps to the side and waves you in. There’s a certain coziness to him, his hair extra frizzy as if he had been laying on it and his eyes a tad puffy. Almost like a large teddy bear. His black sweatshirt swallows his torso although he’s wearing shorts, a psychotic move in this kind of weather.

“Try this.” You demand, holding the plate out in front of him.

His eyes only stare widely at the treat, grogginess obvious in the way he rubs his eyes and yawns. Another postcard moment.

“What is it?” He asks gravelly. It just about melts you into a puddle on his floor.

“Apple pie!”

Your enthusiasm takes him back, a surprised expression pulling at his features as he hesitantly takes it. It crosses his mind that you mentioned taking on baking recently, a slow shift at The Bourbon pulling you both into mindless talk as you cleaned. He gathers that you were at the peak of your sugar rush, no doubt stealing licks of batter and tastes of sugar as you baked. If this was the result of you baking all day, he needed a minute to wake up.

“Okay, okay.” He sighs, brushing past you to set the plate on his kitchen counter, snatching a fork from one of the drawers.

“Why do you need me of all people to taste test?” He asks a bit unkindly. He doesn’t mean it but you did wake him from a deep slumber, one of the best naps he had in a while. Probably the only nap he’d taken in a while as he recalls.

You don’t seem to recognize his irritation, thankfully too caught up in the bubbling excitement around your homemade treat. “Cause it’s for Thanksgiving and I really want it to be good.” You explain, bouncing on the balls of your feet impatiently.

An eye roll has you blushing–it shouldn’t–but it does. All of Eddie’s little quirks whether they were forming out of grumpiness or not, only made him all the more endearing. The fork finally meets his mouth, heaven about to bless his taste buds–or at least you hope.

As he chews, he makes it a point to keep a straight face, watching you squirm with anticipation being far too fun for him.

“How is it?”

Eddie shrugs. Okay, maybe not all of his quirks were endearing.

“Eddie!” You wail, hands gripping the edge of the counter.

“Alright, alright.” He mumbles, taking a step back as he swallows. The crust crumbles just right on his tongue, warm gooey apple goodness filling his taste buds and sending him right back to his childhood. The happy parts. “Really fuckin’ good. You have any more?” He asks, going in for another bite, a smug grin displaying across your face.

“No, you were being rude.”

“Wh–c’mon.” He just about whines as you steal the plate from his reach, tucking it behind your back.

“Say sorry.”

“I’m not sorry, now give it back.” An adorable frown pulls at his mouth.

“Eddie.”

“Bambi.”

Big brown eyes stare into yours, stubborn intent evident behind them. It instantly fades when you give him your best pout, your eyes shining with a silent plea. With a deep sigh and another eye roll, he gives in. It was like stealing candy from a baby except even easier as he fumbled his stoic expression and contorted his face into something more apologetic.

“‘M sorry.” He mumbles.

“You’re what?” You smile, acting oblivious.

“I’m sorry!” Eddie throws his hands up in surrender. “Happy?”

“I guess.” You sigh, placing the beloved dessert back on the counter for him to devour.

“Why you baking so much?”

His mouth is crammed with pie after he asks, crumbs resting at the corners of his mouth and whipped cream decorating his upper lip. You determine that he’s a messy eater, sloppily shoveling pie into his mouth until it physically can’t hold anymore.

“Thanksgiving. I’m in charge of a dessert. What are you bringing?”

“Nuffin’.” He mumbles through a mouthful.

“Why not?” You practically whine.

With a rough swallow, Eddie licks his lips, leaving no trace of the coarse sugar that was previously sprinkled on the crust. When you glance down, the plate is empty, the pie had vanished into Eddie’s stomach.

“I’m not going.” He says simply.

Not going? If he couldn’t go back to Indiana for Thanksgiving, where was he going to go?

“I don’t uh, I don’t do holidays.” He elaborates.

“Don’t do holidays.” You scoff. “You did Halloween just fine.”

It should gross you out when he retrieves a carton of milk from the fridge and starts chugging it straight from the container. It doesn’t. Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, he sets the milk on the counter, eyes meeting yours as his elbows come to rest on the counter, his head propped up in his hands.

“Then that’s the only holiday I do.”

“You have to go.” You whine like a child, stomping your foot.

“I don’t have to do anything.” There’s a certain kind of attitude in his tone, a playful attitude that wasn’t actually meant to offend you, only to spur you on.

“You have to go or else you can’t have any more pie!” You complain. “Please Eddie! You’re like one of the only people I’ll know, you can’t not go.”

Your worried eyes and pouty lips are convincing enough though he might as well have a little fun. Get under your skin.

“Now you’re being mean.” He juts out his lip.

The look on your face is priceless, eyes widening and mouth hung open in shock. “Am not! You’re going to Thanksgiving because if you don’t then I’m gonna feel guilty the whole time I’m trying to pig out.”

“Guilty?” An amused grin plasters itself to his face, his figure returning to tower over you as he ceases leaning over the counter.

“Yeah, you can’t spend Thanksgiving alone.”

He swears there are tears in your eyes, making it unexplainably hard for him to tell you no. Then again, he always found it hard to tell you no. Just last week you and Jett begged to decorate the bar with pumpkins and other Fall objects. The only reason he said yes was because you looked up at him with those perfectly pleading puppy dog eyes, your hands behind your back as you swayed back and forth. And because you offered to use the pumpkins from your porch, the bar’s dwindling budget sure to be untouched.

“Tell you what…” Eddie begins his proposition, you listening eagerly as you lean over the counter with your head propped in your hands as he had done seconds ago. “If you make me my own personal pie—“

“Done.” You chirp.

“I will consider it.” He finishes, glaring at you.

“How about…I give you the rest of the pie I have sitting at home right now and you promise you’ll go?” You light up at your own idea.

“I will consider it.” He repeats.

“No deal.”

You cross your arms stubbornly, eyes closing as you tilt your head up in a snobbish manner. A groan escapes him, you peeking an eye open only to see his nose scrunched in defeat, his tongue licking the back of his teeth and clicking.

He lost the battle.

“Fine.” He sighs, exhaling through his nostrils in annoyance.

You don’t miss the tiny smile tugging on his lips as he collects the remaining whipped cream from the plate and licks it from his fingers. His front was faltering, the big scary dog ready and willing to fall at your feet if you just said the word.

~end~

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gojoux · 8 months

Text

『 𝐒𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 』

— 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐓

· Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader

· Summary: You and Gojo list out needs that you must provide to your kitten.

· CW: 3.9k // Fluff.

𝚂𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙴𝚂 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃

It gets cold at night this time of year, so make sure to wear something warmer.

That's what he texted you.

You quickly changed into more comfortable and warmer clothes. He's waiting for you.

Once you're done, you grab anything you need into a small sling bag before exiting your room and heading towards his room again.

Gojo sits quietly on the bed, his phone on his lap. He continues to check his phone for messages while playing with Koyuki. Suddenly, there's a knock on the door. He glances over, setting his phone aside. “Come in.”

You slowly opened the door to be greeted by him and the kitten on the bed. He has also already changed to more casual clothes, just laying down with his back on the headrest and Koyuki climbing onto his lap here and then.

“There you are.” He grins at you as you enter the room. He lifts up Koyuki for a moment before she hops down, and once she catches your scent she comes over to you. She rubs her head against your leg.

“I think she missed you.” You smile as you bend down and pet her fur gently.

He picks up Koyuki on the bed again, where she instantly rolls onto her back and meows. “Are you ready?” He asks you. “We better head out now before it gets too late.”

“Is the pet shop nearby close to where we are?” You ask.

“I know a pet shop close to here, about an 8 to 12-minute drive.” He walks over to his hanger, grabbing his black jacket, and scoops Koyuki from the floor onto his arm. “Shall we head out?”

“Wait.” You hold his arm before he walks further. “Do we carry her just like this?” Your eyes point at the kitten on the crook of his elbow.

He pauses, a frown on his face as he looks down at the kitten in his arms. “You're right, that would be bad.” He gently sets Koyuki next to him on the bed.

He quickly moves to his closet, where he pulls out a small bag with a zipper. “We can carry her in there instead. We'll also buy the pet carrier later.”

He opens the zipper on the bag, revealing a small, cozy space for the kitten to fit inside. “That should do it.”

Before he puts Koyuki inside, you stop him again, “Do you have a small blanket?”

“Yeah. I think I have one.” He opens the closet again and pulls out a small, soft blanket. He folds it carefully, placing the blanket inside the bag along with Koyuki before zipping it up.

“Is it too tight in there for her?” He looks down at the bag, worried for the comfort of the kitten inside. You open the zip a little bit for fresh air. “There.”

“That's better.” He grabs the bag, which makes a small rustling sound as Koyuki moves around inside, hoisting it across his chest. “Let's go. She's ready.”

You both walk outside of the dorm, grab both of your umbrellas and walk ahead towards the school's exit, an especially long walk during weather like this.

As both you and Gojo leave the dorm room, Koyuki makes a slight meow from inside the bag. It seems like it's snowing harder now. “Damn, it's freezing outside...” He holds the bag closer to his chest.

You see him occasionally check inside the bag to see how the kitten is doing inside. After another yet small talk, you both reached the area where the assistant manager would park their cars.

As you board the assistant manager's car, you're greeted inside with the warmth of the heater. Gojo hops in right after you. “Man, that temperature is no joke.” He sighs, sinking deeper into his seat.

He told the driver where to go and the car starts driving out of the school. “Now we just have to get groceries for our little friend here.” He sets the bag down on the seat between you and him.

“Is she okay?” You peek at the small opening to see Koyuki. Gojo glances at you, then at the bag before chuckling at the scene. “She should be. She's just a bit excited. I think she wants us to let her out.” He reaches out and taps the bag with his finger, encouraging Koyuki to move inside.

The snow continues to fall heavily, covering the road in a thick blanket of white. Meanwhile, Koyuki continues to squirm around in the bag.

“Let's make a list of what we should get for Koyuki.” You suggest. You're still 8-12 minutes away from your destination, so why not start now?

“Right.” He digs his hands inside his pockets to grab his phone to take notes. “Food and litter. Basic needs.” He types on his phone.

After a few seconds, he stops typing and looks up at you. “Anything else she needs in the short term? I don't have much experience taking care of kittens.” He glances at the bag, where Koyuki's head pokes out before going back inside again.

“Do you think she needs milk?” You ask. “Milk...” He trails off, thinking quietly. He taps his fingers on the side of his phone, pondering the idea.

“Milk is important for kittens that are so young like her.” He nods, continuing to observe Koyuki in the bag. In response, the kitten meows quietly at Gojo. “You're right. We should get her some milk. We can ask the store clerk what they recommend.”

“Do you think we should get her some treats for the future? A reward whenever she does something nice.” He looks up at you, waiting for your answer.

“Yeah, good idea.” You nod. “And a cozy, little bed?” He nods at your words, quickly typing them down in his notes. “We can probably find her one at the pet store.”

He smiles at the bag even though Koyuki seems to be quiet inside. “Koyuki has a list of demands. She needs everything to be at her disposal. Her Highness needs a comfortable place to sleep, too, you see.”

“True that.” You smile widely in the bag's direction. “Oh, don't forget the toys.” You remind him.

“Right, right.” He continues to note down things on his phone. “Any other needs we probably should consider?” He glances outside the window, watching as the snow continues to fall.

“Hopefully the storm will settle down a little when we head back.” His shoulders slouch as he watches the snow fall. “She'll probably like her milk warm if the weather is cold, don't you think?” He looks over at you.

You nod in agreement at his words. “I think that's enough for now.” You look over at his phone. “What do we need again?”

He glances at you, holding up his phone for you to see. The notes include:

• Food (and treats)

• Litter box + litter sand

• Milk

• Toys

• Bed (with blanket)

“We need these things for now. I don't think she'll need much more as a kitten. But it doesn't hurt to ask the store clerk about any other necessities.”

You read the list slowly. “Whoa, you're actually taking this matter seriously.” You give him a playful smile.

“Of course I am.” He laughs before tucking his phone back into his pocket and looking over at you. “It's my responsibility to give our little friend a good life. You and I both know she deserves it. After all, you named her Koyuki.”

You smile fondly at his words, your heart once again filled with warmth despite the cold weather, and he continues, “I don't want to be an irresponsible cat owner. I want to look after Koyuki properly.” His smile turns into a sly grin. “Or maybe I just really like the little cutie. Don't be so quick to judge me.”

He adjusts his position in the car, settling himself more comfortably. “Did you ever have a pet growing up?” He asks.

You rest your back against the seat as well. “It's more about taking care of stray cats. I have a fondness for these cuties whenever I see them on the streets.”

He smiles at you again. “So you're already pretty experienced when it comes to dealing with cats, right?” He glances over at you as he rests his arm on the armrest.

“Cats are very interesting, though.” He pauses in thought for a moment. “You know, I don’t think they see us the same way we see them.” He stares at the snow falling outside the window.

“I've read somewhere that cats think of us as fellow cats.” You can't help but smile at the thought.

“Huh, I hadn’t thought of it like that.” He glances at you. “They’re more reserved than dogs.” He stares out the window some more before he speaks up again. “Do you think they love us in their own way?”

After a moment of silence, he suddenly chuckles. “Maybe we’re just the caretakers and the provider of their food and entertainment.”

“Well, that is true.” You chuckle with him. “They view us like kittens view their mother.”

His smile widens as he hears your words. “So that's why they get so possessive of us, huh?” He laughs again, watching the snowfall. ”No wonder they demand so much of what they want.” He leans back against his seat. “Cats are selfish, aren't they?”

“Reminds me of someone.” You murmur with a small sly smile while you look out of the window.

He turns his head towards you, suddenly taking interest in your words. “What do you mean by that?” He tilts his head at you, a smirk on his face. “You mean me?” He grins, shifting his body to properly face you. “Did you mean that as an insult or what?”

“Oh, nothing~” You brush him off nonchalantly with your gaze still looking outside the window.

His right eyebrow raises in response. “Oh, come on now.” He leans forward to get right up in your face. “You can't just say that and expect me not to take interest.” He leans in a little bit more, looking you straight in the eyes. “Do tell, who does it remind you of?”

“Mmm... Some friend of mine named Gojo Satoru.” You reply nonchalantly, trying to hold back a laugh. “You know him?”

He stays quiet for a moment before he throws his head back and laughs out loud. “You are relentless, you know that.” He catches his breath before turning to look at you again.

“I mean, no way!” He plays along. “That Gojo Satoru? The good-looking guy from Jujutsu High?” He shakes his head in feigning disappointment. “Is this friend of yours in this car right now?”

“I hope not.” You reply with a wide smile. “Don't tell him I say that.”

“I won't.” He grins back at you for a moment before looking forward again.

“He's not as egotistical as you make him out to be,” he teases playfully. He crosses his arms to hide his embarrassed smile as he averts his gaze again, staring outside the window again.

“He'll have you know he's quite humble for a special-grade sorcerer.” He sounds as if he’s trying way too hard to convince you.

“Right, right. My bad.” You take a look at Koyuki from the opened zipper of the bag. “She's sleeping.” You say quietly as if you're afraid to wake her up with your voice, even though you and Gojo were talking loudly earlier.

He follows your gaze, watching as the small kitten lays comfortably curled up in the small bag. “Cats are so lazy, you know? I wish I had her life. Just lazing around and enjoying food and napping.” He sighs. “What a peaceful existence.”

You let out a sigh as well. “Me, too.”

“Right?” He nods. “There's no way she's worrying about school or work. She doesn't even have to worry about taking care of herself. All she has to do is eat, play, and sleep.” He smiles as he talks, watching Koyuki in the bag as he speaks up.

“She's living the best life, if you ask me.” He laughs as he glances over at you.

“You're jealous of a kitten?” You raised a brow with a teasing smile.

He smiles sheepishly in response to your words. “I mean...” He pauses for a moment before laughing. “Yeah.”

“I mean, who wouldn't be?” He shrugs jokingly. “She has no worries in the world, and she's being taken care of. She has the best life.” He looks at the bag again, watching as Koyuki continues sleeping, not stirring at all. “I'll be satisfied with even half of that.”

Gojo looks up as the car slowly comes to a stop, glancing at you curiously. “Oh?” His eyes shift towards the pet store and then the clock, noting the time. “We're here already, that's fast.”

“Should we bring her or left her in the car with...” You look at the assistant manager who drives you here, recognizing him, “Haida-san?” You finish your sentence before looking at Gojo.

He thinks about your words. “It's better for her to stay here, she'll be warmer here in the car. She'll be fine.”

Gojo looks at Haida and pats his shoulder from the back before setting the bag on the passenger seat, “We'll trust this kitten with you, alright? Don't turn off the heater and keep an eye on her.”

“Yes, Gojo-san.” Haida nods and adjusts the bag on the seat.

Gojo opens the car door and steps out, and you after him. “Alright,” he looks over at you. “Let's go ahead and get everything she needs. It's time she becomes the spoiled little angel that she is.”

The city streets are already filled with snow, as was predicted earlier by the weather forecast. The chill from the cold air instantly hits your face and it causes you to shiver. The two of you quickly make your way over the pet shop.

He waits for you to go alongside him. “Ready to buy some goods for our little baby?” He grins at you.

Your heart skipped a beat when he said ‘our’ but you immediately compose yourself. “Yeah, let's go.”

You both walk side by side into the pet shop, greeted by the warmth inside the room and the smell of animals.

“You have the list, right?” You ask him again to double-check. He nods and brings up the list on his phone. “Yeah, I got the list ready.” He keeps walking, glancing over at you as he looks down at the list.

“We'll start with food and litter.” He looks at you again. “You said you had some experience before taking care of stray cats, right?”

“Yes, why?”

“That's good.” He nods. “Do you know if there's any specific food or litter that we should buy for her? What do kittens normally eat? This is my first time taking care of a cat, so I have no idea.” He glances at the car outside. “I want Koyuki to have the best, you know?”

You smile at his words before leading the way toward the food racks. “It's better to have wet food than dry food for kittens her age.”

He nods in response to your words and checks his phone again. “Wet food, got it.”

“Anything else we gotta choose? We still need a litter box, and I should also get something soft for her to sleep on.”

“How many should we buy?” You look up at him as you kneel down to check on the cans of wet food, checking the prize and the flavors.

“Let's get 3 or 4.” He hums to himself. “That should last us for a while, right?” He kneels down beside you to check on the cans of food. “Do you think Koyuki will like the chicken one?” He looks at you, raising his eyebrow. “Would Koyuki like a certain flavor of wet food?”

“Mm, we don't know that yet.” You keep checking on the food. “Chicken, salmon, tuna... which one?”

He thinks about your words for a few moments. “How about salmon? I think cats usually like that flavor.” He turns the cans, reading the flavors on the label. “I'll get her some of each one though, just in case she likes them all.” He takes one can of each flavor.

“I'll also get some small treats in case she gets hungry during the night. Which she probably will.” He stands up and checks on the other wet food options.

You stand up as well and start walking around to look for other things to buy. “Next would be... milk, right?” You ask him once he catches up to you.

“Yeah. Definitely need milk. And then we can just find something for her to sleep on, right?” He puts a can of powdered milk in the basket after analyzing the product and glances about the shelves for some blankets or cushions that Koyuki can use.

“She probably won't be too picky on the texture, right?” He smiles at you as he looks for more items. “What do you think she will like?”

“Just choose the softest one you can find.” You answer while looking at the small beds with small pillows and blankets.

“Sounds good.” He grabs a soft and fluffy blanket. “This looks nice.” He turns to you for confirmation. “If anything, I feel like Koyuki can stretch out on this pretty comfortably.”

He then grabs a small bean-bag bed that he thinks looks extremely soft. “These look like they'll do the job, right?” He hums.

“Aww, that's adorable.” You squeal quietly at the lavender-colored bean bag bed. “She'll look so tiny on that thing.”

“She'll look like a little princess, you know?” He chuckles to himself. You take the small bean bag since it doesn't fit inside the basket. It's really soft once you feel it in your arms.

“The litter box.” You remind him. “Oh, yeah.” He follows you as you lead the way. “Is there even any difference between these sands?” He looks at the packaged sand.

“Not really.” You shrug. “I prefer the one with fragrance, like...” You look over the options. “Apple.” You point out the five-kilogram package. He only nods and grabs the sand along with the box and put it in the basket he's holding.

“Oh, we better get a few toys, right?” He looks at you as he speaks. “What do you think she likes? Catnip mice or fishing pole or maybe even just a laser pointer?”

You chuckle at his enthusiasm. Koyuki is just a bit more than a month old yet he's already thinking of buying toys that she might not be able to play just yet.

You both walk towards the toys shelf, seeing many types of toys used for hamsters to dogs. “Why not all?”

He hums, seeming to consider your idea for a moment. “That's right, why not all? Koyuki is going to have plenty of toys to play around with us, and she'll never be bored.” He smiles at you as he adds the said toys to the basket. “I think we should be good now.”

“We've got all the cat essentials. Food, litter box, milk, blanket, bed, and multiple toys to keep her entertained. What else could we possibly need to make her life better?” He looks at you with a proud grin.

“We're not missing anything else, right?” He asks to make sure. You shake your head, “So far, this is what she needs. We can get the scratching board later once she can even walk properly.”

“Right. Let's pay for everything and bring her home.” You both walk towards the cashier. “She's lucky she's such a cute kitten. Or I'd have to force her to earn everything herself.”

You let out a small laugh at his words. “Coming from you, I'm not surprised.”

“Is there anything else we could get her to make her more comfortable?” He asks again as if he's still not sure. “At most, I feel like she is still missing some comfort.” He mumbles.

You look at him in amusement that he cares so much about the little animal who is currently inside the car. “Don't overthink it.” You assure him. “She will be happy. Besides, we can get more later.”

“Okay.”

When you reached the counter to pay, he immediately declines when you offer to split bills and push his card to the cashier before you could even reach your wallet.

Once he paid for all the necessities, he leads you both outside. The wind blows and a few snowflakes drift down into the winter floor.

He stops beside the car and pauses for a moment before speaking up. “Do you mind helping me set up the litter box and everything?” He asks.

“Of course.” You agree right away. There's no way you're missing out on this.

You both put the items away in the trunk. He smiles softly at you. “Thanks for the help.” He hums as he opens the car door and immediately reaches the passenger seat to grab Koyuki's bag.

He opens the bag and glances at the white fuer kitten. She's fast asleep inside the bag as she continues to purr softly.

He reaches his hands inside and scoops her up, cradling her close to his chest. “She's so cute when she's asleep.”

You look at the sight in awe. “You look like a proud father.” You point out.

He chuckles at your words. “I do feel like a proud father right now.” He rubs Koyuki's head as she cuddles up closer to him. “I mean, I already look the part. What else do I need to do?” He replies playfully.

“She's just so adorable and soft.” He looks down at the small kitten that he's cradling in his arms. Koyuki looks so peaceful as she continues to purr softly in his arms. She seems to be in the deepest sleep possible.

“Oh, I think she's waking up.” Koyuki slowly opens her eyes and wriggles her small body on his hands. “You want to hold her for a bit?”

“Let me.” You reach your hands to him. “Here.” He leans a little towards you and gently passes Koyuki to you. “She's very light and very soft, too.”

She's still fast asleep as she's placed in your hands. You hold her close to your chest, gently cradling her and letting her nestle in your warmth. “She's still a little sleepy, but I doubt she'd mind right now.” Your hands are already a little warm from the heater of the car.

Koyuki purrs softly as she continues to snooze. “She really looks so precious.” He grins as he watches her. “You're holding her nicely, too.”

As you hold her in your lap, she continues to purr softly, looking up at you as her cat ears perk up. She sniffs the air with her tiny nose, looking about the car curiously. She yawns and adjusts herself in your lap, making herself more comfortable as she continues to purr.

“She's so adorable.” You look at the tiny kitten in adornment. “If you keep on saying that, I might end up pampering her more.” He says jokingly.

Gojo sits closer to you to get a better look from your view. “Does the little princess want to say hi?” He pets the top of her head with his finger.

You both can finally provide what Koyuki needs. The seven things you must provide for the little snow white. Food, milk, litter, toys, place, also care and love.

At this point, you just want to hurry back to the dorm and pamper her in the warmth. “You're so cute... I like you more than your roommate, you know?” You talk to the small kitten in a soft tone.

He chuckles softly at your words, still adoring the kitten on your hold, until he abruptly stopped in realization.

“Huh?” He looks at you. “What do you mean by that?” He looks offended.

“Nothing~”

Softie cat dad Gojo Satoru 🫶

169 notes · View notes

moralina · 1 year

Text

WILD NIGHTS - WILD NIGHTS! | JJ MAYBANK

Summary: JJ decides to take you on an unusual date, and maybe you should've known that with him you could possibly end the night running away from security.

Warnings: nothing to do with the poem except for the title and i thought it'd be a great way to cut the scenes with lmao, also quickly edited, wanted to write more but also wanted to post this today. fem!reader.

Wc: 1.5k

Masterlist

My latest jj blurb

Not my gif

Wild nights - Wild nights!

Were I with thee

Wild nights should be

Our luxury!

Your feet met the slippery grass with a thud, making you slightly lose your balance but quickly adjusting your footing back as soon as his hands touched yours.

"Where are we going?" you asked, hands pulling at the sleeves of your sweater trying to find warmth within. "I'm not complaining but i'd rather stay under my warm and soft blankets, y'know"

"it's worth it, i promise." he whispered even though there was no need to. Your parents were gone for a week, letting you by yourself while they visited some distant family member who you've never really met. "now c'mon"

his right hand closed around yours, pulling your arm and bringing you with him to the parked van on the other side of the street.

"jj" you whined, sounding too much like a child but too cold to really care.

"it's warm in the van"

You hummed, still dreaming about your comfortable bed.

Yesterday you had agreed to go on a date with jj - your first official date - but it didn't cross your mind to check the weather. How would you have guessed tonight would be as freezing as the inside of a freezer, when just yesterday night you were wearing a bikini and chilling in JB's backyard with the rest of your friends, relaxing in the warmth of the night.

However, the weather betrayed you, and decided to suddenly change drastically on the exact day you and jj decided would be your date night.

"Ohmygod." You exhaled a breath of relief, relishing in the slightly warmer atmosphere of the van.

After a few moments of staring and smiling like a fool in love, jj started the van.

Futile - the winds -

To a Heart in port -

Done with the Compass -

Done with the Chart!

"That's our date?"

"C'mon baby! A kook's pool all to ourselves? It's the dream!" "They have a heat pump!" His eyebrows wiggled and you stared, not really sold

"No" you shook your head "no no no- jj, if we get caught we're screwed."

"Yeah but we won't."

"And how are you so sure?"

"The cameras stopped working after the storm last week and they haven't changed them yet" he spoke matter of factly "plus, there's no one taking care of the house, they're basically asking for it" you deadpanned and he smirked.

Typical jj behavior, you thought to yourself, should've expected it.

How on earth did you fall for this reckless boy?

"Hey, be fun at least once in your life." He said, poking your side with his index finger

"Excuse me, i am fun."

"Keep telling yourself that." He mumbled and you huffed a laugh, eyeing him up and down

"If the cops get us-" you started saying, slowly getting closer to him "i'll throw you to the lions and run as fast as i can"

"Deal!" He exchanged his arm, a cocky grin on his face

After jumping over the gate with jj's help you waited for him to do the same, eyes traveling around the huge backyard. You've never seen a pool so big in your life. Its was probably the size of your house.

"Those kooks, man." You muttered as jj appeared beside you.

"Yeah." He said, also taking a moment to look around the whole place.

"How did you know about this?"

"I cut their grass last week" he shrugged, "heard someone talking about the security cameras not working."

"Oh so then you decided it'd be a good idea to just… break in?"

"Yes." He said casually.

You rolled your eyes, but followed him nonetheless as he started walking towards the pool.

"Even the air feels different here."

His comment made you laugh. He wasn't necessarily wrong. Everything felt different on figure eight. Didn't mean it was better, though.

"What are you doing?" You hushed when you noticed jj taking off his sweater

"What do you think im doing?" You lifted a brow quizzically "i'm not getting into the pool with my clothes on now, am i?"

"Yeah, but it's free-"

"Freezing, i know, i know." His sweater was thrown aimlessly to the side "But the moment i turn this pretty thing on it'll be like a huge jacuzzi, baby!"

You waited for him to do exactly that, and when the water seemed to be at a decent temperature you began to take off your shirt. However, your eyes wined when you glanced at jj and he was moments away from getting all of his clothes off.

All of it.

"Jj" you hissed "what. Are. You. Doing!?"

"I thought skinny dipping would be more romantic." He winked before finally discarding his sweatpants and underwear to the side

Not even a second later he started running, and before jumping straight to the water he let out the loudest scream he could master.

"We're fucked." You breathed out.

Definitely the whole neighborhood heard that, and then security would get here and see you and your-not-yet-official naked boyfriend

"Are you planning to run away from the cops with your thing dangling between your legs?" You questioned when his head finally came back to the surface

He chuckled at your comment, once again too loudly for your liking.

"I'll give them a show, princess." His hand ran through his wet hair and something inside you clicked. The urge to throw him against the pool walls and kiss him for hours being stronger than anything else "Now get in the water."

You hesitated, but decided to go against your gut feeling, and I guess be fun for once in your life.

When your left foot touched the warm water you allowed yourself to breathe normally again, not noticing how your breath seemed shallow before.

Slowly, you entered the pool, your underwear getting soaked in the process. You decided not to follow jj's idea for at least this one thing. You were not getting into someone else's pool naked. And you were not going to run from the cops naked either.

Rowing in Eden -

Ah - the Sea!

Might I but moor - tonight -

In thee!

"Get back here!"

"It was nice seeing you again, Carl!" Jj waved at the poor security guard.

As he ran in front of you, with his pants worn inside out, and his shirt not making all its way through covering his torso, was definitely a funny site, but as much as you wanted to laugh, you also needed air to keep on running.

A scream of joy left his lips and you felt so much adrenaline running through your body. Something you only really felt with jj. I mean, he was the one always dragging you around and making you participate in his wild plans.

"You're too slow!" He screamed, momentarily looking behind him to see you running a few meters behind.

"I'm not used to running from the cops as much as you!" You exclaimed, extending your arm forward so he could grab onto you and take you with him.

When he caught your hand you almost fell to the ground, losing your balance, once again this night, for a short second, but your legs were quick to catch on to his speed.

You only stopped running when you reached the sand. The beach was dark at this time of night, a few lights coming from the street that weren't enough to illuminate the open space.

"That was-" you heaved, trying to speak but also catching your breath

"Amazing? Thrilling? The best night of your life?!"

"It's a way to put it, yeah." You nodded your head, mouth open still trying to even your breathing.

"Did you like it?" Jj asked after a moment of silence, speaking up once again after you gave him a questioning look "our date. Did you like it?"

"It was… something." You laughed.

Definitely an adventure. It made you feel more alive than ever, but you wouldn't say that aloud, not wanting to give jj more motivation to take you to any more fun dates

"Something good or…" he trailed off.

You couldn’t see it, mostly because he wouldn't show it, but jj was nervous. He wanted to give you a memorable date. You've already gone out thousands of times together. Sometimes only the two of you, other times as a group with all of the pogues, but you never called it a date. Before tonight your relationship didn't have a label, and he really wanted it to have. He wanted you to be his girlfriend, and he wanted to be your boyfriend.

So yeah, it was kind of a stressful night and maybe he went too far, but hey, you had the biggest smile on your face right now. You didn't look mad. Not one bit.

"Good." You told him finally

"Good" he repeated, feeling his muscles relax.

"But we're not doing this again."

"Yup! Definitely… not doing this again."

"Jj…"

"What? You have my word."

"Yeah, no. Definitely not trusting that."

A/n: im so anxious rn, you guys have no idea. Anyway, did this so fast I'll probably edit it again when i wake up tomorrow oof

340 notes · View notes

purplelupins · 2 years

Text

Sugar, Sugar

|The Black Phone|

Part I Part II

Grabber/Albert x fem!reader

Summery: Starting your summer job between college semesters seemed easy at first. Until you started looking at your boss differently and he knows.

MINORS DNI

Warnings: swearing, age gap, smut, hair pulling, name calling(bunny, naughty/good girl, and sir) rough sex, power imbalance, possessiveness, arm/hand kink

Note: thank you to @theroadreader for this idea! I hope you like it 🤍 (also I think the credit for the hardware store headcannon goes to @darling-disastrous )

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Denver in the summer was always beautiful. The gentle glow brought on by the sun hitting the mountains, and the blooming flowers. People seemed to smile brighter too. Perhaps it was because the promise of ice cream and picnics were on the horizon, or maybe just the warmer weather.

However, that Monday morning on May 8th 1978, there was no warm sun in the sky. It was a freak cold day in the middle of a dry spell, and to make matters worse, it was your first day of work.

You had been hired just last week to work for the local hardware store as a summer job. It wasn’t great, but it payed fairly well, and it wasn’t far from your parent’s house so you made it work. In the long run, it was a great deal; you could stay with your family for free while saving up for college in the fall. It was a win win.

You checked your wrist watch and walked a little faster when you saw the time. You didn’t want to be late for your first day- you hadn’t even met the manager yet and didn’t want to make a bad impression.

The shop came into view, and you strode up to the door and quickly rapped on it as you pulled your jacket closer. You were glad you had packed pants with you when you came to stay with your folks, otherwise you would have caught cold by now.

A minute passed, then the door swung open and you nearly leapt inside. You looked up at the person who had opened the door, and froze for a full second as you were struck speechless. It was his bright blue eyes that struck you first.

“You alright?” He had said with a light laugh that both set you at ease and sent you into a spiral of embarrassment.

“N-no I’m so sorry sir. I’m y/n l/n I’m starting work today?” You held out your hand and gave him a smile. You pretended that you weren’t completely transfixed by his gaze and forced yourself to blink at a normal rate. You knew you were blushing even in the cold.

“Right, John told me. Come on in.” He stood aside for you and you hurried past him, “My name’s Albert Shaw. I’m the manager. You can just call me Al if you want, no need for ‘sir’.” He said gently. He seemed tired, but sweet in a quiet way.

You had to admit you had a soft spot for the older man already.

For the rest of that first day, you followed him everywhere and listened to each thing he told you about the shop. You thought you heard one of the other workers, Bradley, whisper something about you being a puppy, but you ignored it. You weren’t the biggest fan of the other three you worked with - Sally, Bradley and Chris. You could tell they got on Albert’s nerves a great deal, though he did his best to not yell. Almost instantly, you could also tell that they were not the biggest fans of Albert either.

Sure he seemed a little quirky and quiet with his funny little laughs and jokes here and there, but you were like that too. You kept to yourself and were often the odd man out, so you understood him well. He didn’t leer or speak to your co-workers badly, so you decided to take whatever your co-workers said with a grain of salt.

Besides, you liked his voice. It was soft and friendly, and he tilted his head to the side a little when he spoke.

You liked him immediately.

Not a week into working with him, you had found yourself almost looking after him everyday. You had noticed he often didn’t bring lunch, and so you always included an extra portion just in case. Of course you never made a big scene of it, just leaving a sandwich and some snacks on his desk when he would be out in the shop. But he knew it was you. He would always send you a small, shy smile and a nod.

Then you started to notice the bruises and scratches on his arms. He had brushed it off by telling you about his large dog, Sampson, and that had been enough for you. You knew he was a big boy and could take care of himself, but you still worried.

Ever since he had mentioned Sampson, you would bring him a small bag of treats for him on Fridays. Albert had insisted you didn’t bother, but you could tell he was alone, and insisted harder.

“Albert if you don’t take these and give them to that pup I’m going to follow you home and give them to him myself.” You almost stamped your foot. Almost.

He stared back at you, and held his hand out for the small bag and you grinned triumphantly as you left his office.

He watched you go, and shook his head as terrible thoughts began to circulate. What if he did deny them…what if she did follow him? A smirk slowly made its way onto his face, but he batted those thoughts away.

Not her.

As the heat began to pick up over the weeks, you noticed how much quieter Albert had become. You noticed how he seemed paler too. When he came out onto the sales floor to check for an item, you quickly found him and placed your hand on his arm.

“Albert?” You asked gently, hoping to not distract him.

He turned to you, grabbing the proper set of nails he needed. “Everything alright, honey?” He asked.

You nodded, “Oh yeah, I just wanted to talk to you quickly, if that’s alright ?” You whispered.

He stare at you for a moment and swallowed his thoughts. Albert nodded and lead you to the back to speak privately. He leaned back against the counter there and crossed his arms. “What’s going on?” He asked, tilting his head.

“I hope it’s alright, but I noticed that…this sounds so stupid, but I noticed that you looked a little pale, and I made you some of my grandma’s soup?” You reached for your bag and pulled out a thermos, “It does wonders. It’s from 1903 so it must pack a punch somehow.” You said kindly, your eyes bright.

He breathed out a laugh and shook his head. “I hope you’re not this sweet to everyone.” He said, taking the container.

“No…most people think I’m strange. That’s what happens when you don’t look like everyone else and don’t date every boy you see.” You said with a tight smile.

“Good. Because if you go ‘round making soup for everyone who’s sick, then I won’t feel so special.” He teased you. You felt your cheeks and neck heat up and you looked down.

“Well…I hope you like it. If you bring me the thermos tomorrow I’ll give you some more.” You mumbled, playing with the uniform shirt you wore.

“I’ll be sure to do that, honey.” He smiled softly.

You flicked your eyes up to his, still not looking him in the eye completely. “Okay…good. I’m…um…I’ll get back to work.” You scurried back out past the cash counter, ignoring the stare you got from Sally and began organizing the shelves again. Sally had been watching your little interactions, and loved to tease you, but that day, you just wanted to be nice and get through your shift.

The following day, Sally cornered you to confront you about the odd behaviour between the two of you.

“Why do you get all funny when Al calls you honey?” She asked bluntly. It was true. The endearment he had chosen for you always made you swoon a little, and everyone knew it.

“I don’t what you’re talking about…” You murmured back, trying to continue with restocking the shelves of deck wax.

Sally leaned a little closer than you liked.

“Yes you sure as hell do. Even Brad noticed it, and he doesn’t notice when I cut my hair, so that’s sayin’ somethin’…”she crossed her arms and leaned against the shelf, “…besides, Al’s a bit…funny don’t you think?”

You grinned gently. “He is a little, isn’t he?”

Sally rolled her eyes, “No stupid, I mean he’s a bit weird.” She whispered the last word.

You whipped your head to the other girl with a stern look on your face, “No he’s not. He’s sweet-“

“Sally.”

Both of you jumped and turned your heads to the other end of the aisle. Albert stood there with a clipboard in hand, and that line between his brows more pronounced as he stared down the your coworker. “Get back to the register. I don’t pay you to bother good employees.” He said firmly.

You had kept your head down, staring at the can in your hands before placing it on the shelf. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Sally sulk off and you felt more than saw Albert take a few steps towards you.

“She wasn’t bothering you too much, was she?” He had asked you, glancing down at an inventory paper.

“N-no not really. She just-“ You sucked in a breath as you spoke, and looked over at the older man who was already looking at you, “-never mind. I’m just going to finish these then I’ll come help at the counter.” You bit your inner lip and focused back on stocking the shelves.

“Take your time, honey.” He said gently, then disappeared down another aisle. You felt your heart beating aggressively, and had to take deep breaths to calm it.

“Albert?”

The older man rose his gaze up to the doorway to his office. He knew it was you. He knew that sweet little voice anywhere. He knew you would round the corner any second, and just as he thought, you did. You came to stand in the open doorframe, resting your hand there to lean inside. You glanced at his face for a moment, but looked away bashfully.

“Albert, could I borrow you for just a second? I wouldn’t bother you but Chris is on break, Brad is…busy and Sally is…busy too.” You asked.

He could see you biting the inside of your cheek.

You were so fucking cute.

You weren’t like the other girls in Denver, especially when it came to summer. He had to constantly remind Sally to abide by the dress code, and rolled his eyes at what they were calling “summer fashion” that year. He swore the standard for clothing got smaller and smaller each year.

But not you.

No.

You weren’t whorish like them.

You wore the company t-shirt, and your hemlines never came more than an inch or two above your knee; if you wore pants, they would end at a minimum of your ankle. He noticed you liked cardigans, too. One shoulder would often hang off around halfway through your shift from moving so much.

You had a hard time looking him in the eye too, he noticed. He noticed everything. Even when you thought no one was looking and you would zone out while trying to put away an item, he was looking at you.

He couldn’t help it. You were so sweet, and caring. You loved being around him and he knew that by how widely you would grin when you would see him.

He wanted to tell you what you did to him. He wanted to tell you how he had to sit in his office every other hour to adjust himself in his pants after being around you too long.

But he couldn’t tell you. More importantly, he didn’t know how.

“Sure thing, y/n. Boxes again?” He said, laying his pen down, and standing to his full height. Your cheeks heated up and you nodded.

“How did you know?” You asked teasingly. You often had to ask for his help when it came to retrieving items higher up. While you could reach them, they were always heavier than they looked, and you had learned your lesson when you almost fell backwards with a box in hand. Albert had caught you just in time, and had teased you about it ever since. Not that you minded.

“Oh…a lucky guess.” He said, walking closely behind you.

“I think you can hear my thoughts.” You stated in a matter-of-fact way.

He laughed lightly, “Which box is ruining your day, honey?” He placed his hands on his hips and looked up at the shelf you stopped at.

You pointed to the box just out of reach at the top of the stock shelf.If you were honest, you didn’t need that box. Not really. There was just one item in it that needed restocking but it could have waited.

Albert reached up and gripped the edge and dragged the cardboard closer until it dropped into his arms. But you were barely paying attention.

Your eyes were tranfixed on his muscles that were only cheekily highlighted by that damn work t-shirt he had started wearing. He usually just had to have a shirt and name tag as manager, but for some cursed reason, those long sleeved shirts turned into short sleeves not long after you started working there.

His veins sloped out along the tendons and muscles as he moved, and his large hands gripped the box fiercely. When he set the box down on the work shelf in the back, he let out a soft grunt and sighed as he ran his hand through his long hair.

You held your breath to keep from whimpering, and looked away quickly out of fear of him seeing you staring. But not quick enough; he shot you a smirk as he positioned the box properly for you to open, and rested his arm on it. “Any other boxes?” He asked with a tilt of his head.

You shook head quickly. “Nope that’s it. Thanks Albert.” You got busy with finding a knife to cut it open.

“Alright.” He murmured and released the cardboard before walking back to his office. As soon as he was out of sight, you sighed and punched the box slightly out of frustration.

“Thaaaanks Albeeert.” Came the sickly sweet, sing-songy voice of your coworker from behind the cash counter just through the doorway. You huffed and got to work.

“Lighten up, god.” Sally sighed, and hopped up on the counter next to you. “Can’t you take a joke?”

You stared at her blankly as you fished out the piping that needed restocking.

“Whatever…you know he likes you right? You know you get the best schedule out of all of us. I guess it does pay to be sucking your boss’s cock, huh?” She hissed, leaning closer to you. You snapped your head to her and stared, appalled.

“Sally don’t say stuff like-“ you stared.

“Aww like what? The truth? I bet he loves having a young little thing like you at his disposal. I bet he likes it too, huh? Does he do it at his desk? Bet he cums down your throat-“

“Sally!” You cried, slamming the piping down on the counter hard enough to made a loud noise. The girl jumped at the outburst of her tame coworker. “You are disgusting. Albert is a very nice man, and I like him very much. Even if you don’t think so, give him some respect.” You spat and strode away from her, who was still sitting there in awe, and walked to Albert’s office. You knocked gently on the door and when he called you in, you couldn’t look him in the eye.

But he had already heard everything.

“Albert I’m sorry but I think I need to go home.” You said, trying to hold back tears.

The older man was staring up at you, but slowly stood and walked to where you were leaning against the door. “Are you alright?” Came his gentle voice that only made your heart hurt more.

How could Sally be so cruel?

“Yep. I’m just not feeling well…don’t want to get anyone sick.” You said, keeping it together. But then he placed a finger under your chin and forced your eyes to his. You sucked in a shaky breath.

“Be a good girl and get some rest, Hm?” He whispered.

At his words, your brain stopped working, and all you could do was nod. “Yes sir.” You murmured.

It was the only thing you could think of.

He sucked in a breath, and clenched his fist tightly, then lowered his finger from your chin.

“Have a good afternoon Albert.” Your voice was airy and barely sounded like you at all as you grabbed your purse and scurried out the back door.

He stared after you. It had taken every ounce of his control to not fulfill that vile girl’s imagination. To not pull you into his office and lock the door. To not sit at his desk and tell you to get on your knees. To not have you suck on him as he pulled your hair.

Albert slammed his office door shut, and adjusted himself in his pants. He threw himself back into his chair, and rested his head in his hands.

Why did she have to be so sweet?

Why couldn’t you too be vile and difficult? At least that way he could ignore you.

But no, you had to be this little ray of sunshine.

You had to be a-fucking-dorable.

On your way home, you barely even registered where you were going. It wasn’t until you were on the steps to tour parents house that you realised you had indeed made it home.

With the constant harassment from your coworkers, it was almost worth it to just quit and find another job to help save for college.

Almost.

You sighed and threw your bag onto your bed then threw yourself onto it. You groaned into the mattress.

You hated how much you liked your boss.

Why did he gave to be so welcoming to you, and courteous and funny and silly and gentle.

So gentle.

He had stood up for you on more than one occasion too, which you had deeply appreciated. It hadn’t been a big deal either, just a customer that was angry about an order not being in. He had come from the back after hearing the man almost cussing you out, and was by your side in an instant. Albert’s hand had rested on your shoulder in a supportive gesture, and you had revelled in having him touch you. His words had been so firm with the other man, and you had watched him like a puppy. He stood beside you until the man had left, and asked if you were alright immediately. You had nodded and cracked a small smile before he had returned to his work.

You knew it was wrong, especially with him being so much older, and your superior. But regardless, something about him made you feel something you never had before.

The next day you were on a closing shift, and decided to sleep in until you absolutely needed to wake up. By the time afternoon hit, you had your hair tied back, work shirt on and a skirt. It was evidently the hottest day of the summer so far according to the radio, and while you weren’t a fan of shorter skirts, you knew it would save you that day to have an extra breeze.

You slipped on your sneakers, and pulled your purse over your shoulder then began to walk into town. You enjoyed the hot sun beating down, especially since it brought out the kids of the neighbourhood. You loved seeing their smiles and carefree nature- even with the strange disappearances on the rise.

By the time you reached the shop, you were starting to sweat. You ran a little quicker down the back alley and knocked to by let in. Chris opened the door, and you gave him a polite nod. “Thanks.” You said quietly and pushed past him into the cooler back room.

That day, you were glad your shift only overlapped with Sally and Brad’s for an hour. You didn’t have the patience to deal with either of them, and so you stuck to helping customers and didn’t even turn your head when you heard your coworkers leave.

Hours passed, then before you knew it, it was 5 pm, and you were finished up with your last customer. You knew Albert was in the back, but you didn’t need him for closing up. You turned over the open sign to closed, and locked the door, then quietly organized the counter, and began counting the till and matching up the receipts.

Your heart grew a little sad when you realised you hadn’t seen Albert once all day. You sighed and finished up, then placed the cash in an envelope and labelled it accordingly, took out the receipts, and walked to Albert’s office.

You saw the light on under the door, and knocked gently. “Albert? I finished closing up- oh.” You were stopped when the door swung open and the older man was standing right there. “-sorry. Um…this is the total from today. I’m just going to go clean up.” You murmured, placing the envelop in his hand. You tried to not take notice of it’s size.

“I didn’t see you today. Were you hiding?” He teased you as you took a step away, looking over the recipes beside the cash.

Your eyes went wide.

“No I wasn’t! I just…” you trailed off which caught his attention, “…I dunno. I’ve been feeling off since yesterday.”

He nodded and placed a hand on your shoulder, rubbing small circles there. “I’ll be there in a second, alright?”

You nodded and walked off quickly.

In an attempt to stay normal, you began placing the products back in their orderly places. Once you were halfway through, you stretched up onto your toes to reach the top shelf. You were so focused that you didn’t even notice Albert round the aisle and freeze until he cleared his throat. You stumbled a little in surprise and gasped. “D-didn’t see you there, sorry.” You said.

His fist clenched and un clenched, which you noticed.

He didn’t say anything before he stormed off suddenly into the back. You watched in horror as Albert’s back seemed tense- you had never seen him like that, especially not with you. Had you done something wrong? Then you remembered the shortness of your skirt that day, and felt your stomach drop. He was angry.

“Albert?” You called to him. When he didn’t answer, you followed him towards the back room, “A-Albert? Is something wrong? Did I do-“ you were cut off as soon as you walked towards his office. Albert was hunched over slightly with his one hand on the wall and his other on the outside of his pants, adjusting himself.

You gasped and looked away, walking back towards the door leading to the front of store. Just as you went to pass the work counter, you were stopped dead in your tracks.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Came Albert’s voice behind you. But it wasn’t the usual tone you were used to. It wasn’t gentle. It was rough.

You turned back to his approaching form and wrung your hands. “I-I’m so sorry sir. I don’t know what- I didn’t mean to-“

“To what? Hm? Didn’t mean to what, bunny?” He said mockingly. Then he was standing right in front of you and caged you against the counter. “Cat got your tongue, hmm?”

You stared up at him wide eyed, “I-I…”

“You didn’t mean to do this, Hm?” He took your hand and brought it towards him until your little hand was against his straining hard cock. “You feel that, bunny? This is what you fucking do to me every. Single. Day.” He growled, rubbing himself against your hand.

“I’m-I’m sorry I didn’t know…?” You whimpered.

“Oh you didn’t know? Poor little bunny didn’t know that she makes her boss want to stuff her every day?” He rasped, and took your hand away. Your breaths were heavy, and he pulled you to him, capturing your lips in his. You were still for a moment, and he began to doubt everything. Anger began to bubble inside him, but it was shut off when he felt your sweet lips open up to his, and he could taste you. He slipped his tongue inside you, and groaned at how soft you were.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and Albert slipped his hands under your thighs and lifted you up onto the counter. You gasped in surprise when his hands didn’t move from your legs. In fact he only moved them higher. Your heart was pounding and you could barely think. As you pulled away for air, his arm caught your eye; with them touching you, your mind went fuzzy. You followed his forearm to his wrist then to where his hand was as it disappeared under your skirt.

“Is there something you want to tell me bunny? Hm? It’s not polite to stare.” He growled into your ear.

You blinked and looked away out of embarrassment.

“I-I’ve had a crush on you since we met…a-and I like your arms.” You managed to say.

“Bunny likes my arms.” He mocked you.

You didn’t care. You nodded.

“Is that all?” He purred, leaning closer to your neck.

You shook your head. “Your eyes and your…all of you.” You admitted, blushing as you lost your words.

“You sure about that, little bunny?” He kissed up your neck.

“Uh huh…” You breathed out, a shiver running up and down your spine.

“So if I asked you you’d suck my cock at my desk?” His filthy words filled your ears and you were certain you would have an aneurysm.

Then you remembered, and gasped, pulling away mortified. “You heard her?”

He arched a brow at you.

“Of course I heard her,” he reached under your skirt and gripped your panties before almost ripping them off, “I heard you trying to defend me too. Every time.”

Your entire face was ablaze.

“I-well I just d-didn’t want anyone to- to say things like that about you.” You stuttered out and his large, veiny hand went back under your skirt to your inner thigh.

“No? You were looking after me, were you? Being such a good girl.” He cooed, returning to your neck.

“Yes-“ your words died on your tongue when his thumb swiped against your throbbing clit. Your mouth hung open. Sure you had touched yourself, or tried to, and had been touched, but you had never felt that.

“Aww did bunny get all stupid with just one touch?” He tsked her condescendingly.

You might have cared if you weren’t drunk on him, but you were. Of course you had daydreamed about the older man pulling you into his office, or driving you home but actually taking you to his house. But having him there breathing the same air was so much better than your imagination.

“P-please!” You squeaked as he traced your outer lips.

“Yeah? Did you want something like…” he slipped a long thick finger inside you and curled it. You threw your head back and gripped his shoulders like a vice.

“F-fuck!” You gasped as he pumped his finger inside you.

His eyes snapped to yours at the swearword- he had never heard you curse before. “I’ve barely touched you, silly. What am I gonna do with you?” He murmured condescendingly.

Then he got an idea.

“Don’t move.” He rasped and pulled himself from you before bending down to the drawers of the counter and found what he was looking for. “Turn.”

You didn’t even have the head to ask why, so you turned as best as you could. He grabbed your arms and pulled them behind your back before looping the rope he had found around your wrists. He knew having to demonstrate different knots would come in handy one day, and he supposed that to tie up his favourite little employee so he could fuck her silly was the reason he needed.

He almost came right there just by having you so compliant as he tied you up. Not a question or worried look. You trusted him so much.

Silly girl.

“There. Turn back to me. Atta girl.” He rasped, helping you turn back to back him. Your eyes stared right back into to his, and he soaked it up. He pulled you to the edge of the counter and held your hip with one hand while he other one was busy with his belt. You watched him closely, your eyes heavy and lips parted.

Even with you so delirious for him, you were adorable.

He couldn’t wait to corrupt you. Make you his. He wondered if he could keep you. Lock you in his basement and keep you to himself. All his.

His pants came apart, and you watched as he pushed them and his underwear down. He took no time in placing the tip of his cock at your slick entrance. He needed to have you.

“Please sir-“ You gasped, your eyes pleading with him.

Without another word, he began to sink inside you. You cried out and arched your back against the wall behind the counter. That sound was the best noise he had heard in a long time. You enveloped his cock and drew him in deeper until his hips were flush with yours.

“Fuck!” He growled, and thrust shallowly a few times.

Your panting and whimpering was music to his ears. Albert wished he could record them and listen to them at night.

“That’s it…that’s it…” he rasped. It was barely even understandable. You took him so well, hooking your thighs over his hips and he held you tightly. You knew there would be bruises. It was as if he thought the exact same thing as you, and one hand went to your hair and tugging your head up to him. He dipped his head down to your neck, and sucked and bit at the tender skin there. He felt you clench around him and he chuckled roughly into your neck.

“You want me to mark you don’t you, naughty girl? You want this whole fucking town to know who you belong to.” His breath was hot against your skin, and you could barely remember how to talk, so you nodded.

He latched onto a spot where he knew you couldn’t hide it with your hair or a shirt, and sucked until a deep purple mark was left behind. As he pulled away and inspected his work, something in him snapped. His hand gripped your hair hard, and he held you firmly as he set a punishing pace.

Your brows pinched as you were stretched open over and over. You were certain his cock was hitting your cervix each time. You knew you wouldn’t be able to walk.

Then, just as you started to feel yourself tighten and warm up, he pulled you off the counter and spun you around and bent you over so your cheek was against it. He slipped back inside you far too easily, and continued his pace.

“Pl-please- I-“ you gasped out. But he already knew what you wanted.

“You want to come don’t you?” He growled. You had no idea he could make such a sound.

You nodded as best as you could.

“I’m going to make you come…that’s it. “ he felt you tighten with each thrust. “Only I make you come, you understand?” He rasped. “Say it!“ he growled, pulling your hair even tighter.

“O-only you make-make me come!” You stuttered, feeling liquid fire in your veins.

“Good fucking girl.” His voice became more and more rough with each thrust, and finally, he felt you let go. You gripped him like a vice and squeezed him so hard he came just seconds after. His hot, thick cum coated your insides and he continued to rut into you until you whimpered. But he didn’t care.

You were his.

As he pulled from you, he watched his cum drip from your puffy lips, and he ran his finger through it and held it to your mouth. “Open up bunny.” He said gently.

You did so obediently, and sucked on his thumb until it was clean. You slowly stood up, breathing heavily. Once he had righted himself, he slowly untied your wrists, and you kissed his face once you were free. He inspected his work on your neck, and checked your wrists. They were red and raw. There was no hiding that.

Your neck was a masterpiece. “Don’t you dare cover those.” He murmured, pointing to the bruises on your neck.

You nodded, eyes hazy and your cheek red from being pressed against the counter. “Okay.” You whispered.

He picked up the panties he had ripped from you and tucked them into his pocket, and his sweet girl just stared at him serenely. “Am I gonna have to walk you home, bunny?” He cooed to you as you swayed. He ran a hand through your hair, and stroked your cheek. He felt you melt into his touch.

“I-I’ll be okay… I think.” You murmured.

He smirked and reached behind you to get a pen and paper. “This is my phone number. You be a good girl and call me when you get home, okay?”

You nodded again.

“Atta girl. You’re done for the day, you head home.” He murmured. His voice returned to that light soft voice you knew.

You nodded again and folded the paper, took your purse, and just as you were about to leave, you walked back to him and kissed him one more time. Then, you disappeared out the back door into the evening air.

A part of him didn’t want to let you go. A large part. He wanted to throw you over his shoulder and take you home with him.

But his basement was occupied.

So no.

Not yet.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

@dogmatic255

@funandfancyfree

#the grabber x reader #the grabber #albert shaw #the black phone 2022 #the black phone #slasher horror #slasher x reader #ethan hawke

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pockymun · 8 months

Text

Maps of Galahd by Pockymun

I've been writing fic for FFXV for a few years now. One of the obstacles I've run into again and again was not knowing where the characters were at all. This made it hard to plan logistics like travel time, weather, and climates. So I decided to look at what maps we have from FFXV and create my own for the lesser-traveled regions (which is everywhere except Lucis, and even that map isn't that great).

This task in itself was frustrating because it's impossible to tell where the equator and the tropics are supposed to be. The climates of Lucis and Niflheim only confuse it further. If Lucis is based on America, it's pretty far up from the tropics. Accordo doesn't appear a warm enough climate to be in the tropics, either. (Accordo has a very coastal Mediterranean climate; just a note for the future).

There has been debate regarding where Galahd is in Eos. Most agree that it is the islands located behind Insomnia. It makes the most sense because of reaction to Galahd's invasion in Insomnia's news: Niflheim conquered land in Insomnia's backyard, and were knocking at the door. When Niflheim slowly conquered much of the mainland Lucis, nothing was mentioned regarding a reaction from Insomnia.

Being where it is, Galahd should be a much colder climate than what I have it as. It should be more like Norway or Finland. However, the Kingsglaive anniversary artwork depicted a scene with a lot of South/Southeast Asian influences. The proper places of climates never seemed to matter to the developers of Final Fantasy.

In a rudimentary attempt to map the ocean currents of Eos, I drew a warm ocean current that runs westward on the north side of Galahd. This would cause the islands to have a slightly warmer climate than what it should have considering its placement. Logically, it wouldn't be warm enough to be considered subtropical, but I really wanted there to be a jungle climate in FFXV and I think that's what the developers originally intended as well.

On the southern coasts of Galahd, there is a cool ocean current that runs westward. These waters are much calmer and are ideal spots for large fishing enterprises. The warm ocean current in the north brings storms and a lot of rain; the north side of the islands are much wetter.

The climates I described in the climate map are classifications that can be found on Wikipedia. I tried sticking close to climates found in Southeast Asia, while also giving some more temperate areas as well. While much of the material culture is SE Asian, there are some things, such as the braids Nyx and Lib wear, that seem to stem from ancient Indo-European/Iranic influences. There was a custom among one of these people in which only warriors braided their hair.

For place names, I used fantasynamegenerators.com and selected random South/Southeast Asian town names. There are two straits, the oceans, and the seas that I haven't named yet. The map became very cramped with one names I already put on it.

Some headcanons I came up with while working on this:

Galahd's climate provides some challenges to the transportation infrastructure. There is no major roadway nor any major settlement on the north edge of Lhasgar due to the dense forest and the risk of annual floods. Cities and towns are more firmly established further in the island.

When Lucis still controlled the islands, they attempted to improve the infrastructure by establishing major roads and railways. The climate did not allow much leeway for railway, however. Around the same time, Lucis relaxed its control over Galahd and allowed for autonomy.

The most common forms of transportation are by vehicle, bus, or boat along the waterways.

There are cities and towns. These were there before Lucis took over, although they had looked much more traditional back then. Most of the world believes Galahd to be a couple of islands full of small backwoods villages, but they were as sophisticated as any other culture at the time they were conquered, and modernized with everyone else. While modernizing, Galahd had also managed to stick with their traditional culture.

While the map looks crowded, there is still a lot of open land and wilderness. The rivers and lakes shown are only the major rivers and lakes; there are more, just as there would be for any other regional map. Water and wilderness are defining features of Galahd.

The mountain ranges had once been connected, just like how the Appalachian and the Little Atlas Mountain Ranges.

Feel free to use these maps when writing your own fics or headcanons! I would greatly appreciate being credited. These maps are just my interpretation, and don't stand in for canon material. They are flawed, but I worked with what I had. I made these using Inkarnate.

#final fantasy xv #reference #fantasy map #ffxv #galahd #kingsglaive #worldbuilding

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333creolelady · 2 months

Text

Lady Of The Blue Bakunawa Ch. 6

Afab black OC x Roman Reigns (Pirate au)

Banner by : @joannasteez

Warnings: MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING. mentions of past child loss, grief, mentions of past child abuse, mention of past sexual assault, mentions of past murder, gore, mentions of past racism, heavy angst (with fluff), hard topics, sex, foreplay (fingering cunnulingus fem receiving) Handjob, description of bodily fluids (cum, arousal), emotionally heavy topics, Includes a creature (a collective) who thrives on pain, religious undertones due to mention of the seven deadly sins, brief mention of not wanting to be alive (not SH), patricarichal views (Jane is unlearning, give her some grace chile).Minors DNI. LONG CHAPTER ALERT.

Songs this chapter: When Ginny kissed Harry, Davy Jones, Avril 14, El matador, Observatory kiss

Alternative playlist songs: Like a star, Decks dark, The Moment I said it, Cemeteries of London, Simply beautiful

Chapter Playlist link here <-

Next-> chapter 7

<- Back to Masterlist

Alternative Playlist link <-

Second warning. This chapter is emotionally heavy. Please consider reading it in two parts if you have to. This chapter has brief mentions of PAST sexual assault mid chapter. There is also a consensual smut scene (foreplay) at the end of the same chapter. If this is too heavy for you I will send you a cliff notes version (just shoot message in my DM’s) Chapter indicators for the SA topic will be <color coded> so you may skip if need be. . Proceed with caution.

Roman

He watches her take a breath and shoot at an empty can floating on a piece of driftwood. Caden had tied to the wood to rear of the ship. It was the best way she could get shooting practice from a distance. Funnily enough, Jane was savvy with a gun. She’d only been practicing for a few days and could shoot pretty well from a reasonable distance. Roman was impressed.

He’d left her for a few moments to set the dinner table inside his cabin. The waters were calm and the warm breeze had made the humidity slightly too sticky. He made light of it, feasting his eyes on the exposed skin of her neck and arms. Warmer weather called for thinner clothes. He would enjoy it for now.

He placed her bowl across from his and plated the food onto a porcelain plate. There were many upgrades on this new boat. Night had a taste for the finer things and had many high priced items hidden on the ship. He seemed to like fine china. Jane noticed his absence and turned around, he beckoned her to eat. She sat down across from him and placed her pistol on the table next to her.

Roman observed the way she handled her weapons so confidently already. “ Like a proper pirate”, Roman teased. She pulled off the extra hat he gave her and sat it beside the gun. She smiled shyly, placing a napkin in her lap.

8 days ago Roman and Jane’s relationship had changed in what only could be described as an explosion of passion previously left unshared. He now would encourage her sword lessons with Adhar. He would teach her how to use a gun and how to defend herself.

And now there was no confusion on whether or not affections would be shared. It was clear as day that they liked each other. He was just waiting for Jane to lean into her desires and initiate more often.

She sat across from him and dug into the food, spooning it into her mouth. He went fishing for her and cooked it. Tropical waters meant better catches of fish.

“ What is this?”, she said with an enthusiastic mouth full.

“ Oka l’a. It’s a dish of my people. Most people prefer it raw but sometimes we cook it for the children or sickly. You get the cooked version”, he chuckled watching her pick up a tiny piece of fish and eat it with her fingers.

“ You made this?”, she said with surprise.

“ Yes. That’s why I was gone”, he smiled.

“ It kind of tastes like coconut too. We used to put coconut in some of our food back in Trinidad. My grandfather used to add it to his Callaloo”, she sighed in content.

“ So you like it ?”

“ I do! You never told me you could cook.”

“ There was never a need to. Always had somebody to do it for me but thankfully my memory is pretty extensive. I’m sure there are a few missing ingredients however. This was my favorite dish my mother made.”

“ You remember her?”, she asked with curiosity.

“ I’m not ancient ”, Roman laughed. Jane just smiled and went back for another piece of fish.

“ Sometimes the memories get fuzzy after so long”, she shrugged.

“ I feel that way sometimes. The food was the easiest thing for me to remember because it was one of the last meals I had. At least that’s what my memory tells me.”

“ So this..raw fish. Your culture eats it a lot ?”

“ Yes. We prepare it in a way. We knew which ones to choose—we could asses how healthy the fish was. It’s very fresh and the children are brought up on it young. We never got sick. Thankfully, now that we’ve moved into more tropical waters, we have healthier fish. I could never eat this from the port. It was would end bad since the water is so filthy.”

“ Lest we want another cholera event”, she joked.

“ Don’t even remind me”, Roman shivered.

“ Do you have any other favorite meals ?”

“ Pork.”

“ Pork? But you can get pork anywhere.”

“ We cooked it better.”

“ How did you learn to cook anyway?”

“ The men cook where I’m from. Especially for big feasts. So young boys learn how to cook from their fathers.”

Jane’s eyes widened. “ Remind me why we aren’t back there instead ? Everything I’ve heard so far is promising.”

“ If you want off cooking duty you’d best say so. Unfortunately my meals are only reserved for you”, he teased.

“ As tempting as that sounds, I can't abandon ship with Caden.”

“ So what’s another interesting thing about your culture ?”

“Our seafaring is unmatched. We were the first people in the world to migrate by boat.”

“ So this comes naturally to you then?”

“ Yes. Especially because all I knew was water even in my life before.”

“ Married to the sea”, she teased. Roman didn’t laugh but instead graced her with a soft unassuming smile.

“And what about you?”, he asked.

“What about me?”

“Is there anything you remember about Trinidad ? Anything at all ?”

“ I remember putting scotch bonnets in our food. We have really spicy peppers—maybe even some of the hottest in the whole world. As a kid, whenever a general was particularly mean to us, we would rub the rim of their mugs with the juices from the pepper. There lips would blow up like fish.”

Roman laughed. “ Mischievous .”

“ Oh you don’t know half of it. Me and my cousin used to get in SO much trouble. There’s a certain kind of fearlessness children are born with. I would never have the gull to do something like that now.”

“ I’m a fan of young Jane. She sounds like she doesn’t take any mess”, Roman smiles.

“ I also remember being able to wear what I wanted as a kid. The culture we created for ourselves didn’t concern itself with layers and corsets and thick fabric. It’s hot. If I left my house with my stomach showing as a kid, people would laugh at my pot belly at most. Women didn’t have to be covered from neck to ankle either—like I said, it’s hot. Our garbs were also very colorful and bright. Then one day there were all these rules. Wear this not that. Your hair should be this not that. Anything else was suggestive or loud.”

“ Well..sounds like a story I’ve heard one too many times unfortunately.”

Jane shrugs. “Well I suppose there’s no point in stewing in it now. You take the good parts and leave the rest.”

“ I would have disagreed with that before I met you but now….”, Roman trailed off teasingly. A smile spread slowly on her face. He had a habit of staring at her unpromoted now. She was convinced he just liked to see her squirm.

She anxiously changed the topic. “How much longer?”

“ A few more days. We’re close.”

“ Days? Good, we have more pressing matters to address anyways.”

“ Like?”

Jane looks down in her lap finding the courage to finally spit it out. “We kiss…”

“Yes.”

“On the lips….”

“Yes I know.”

“And you touch me…”

Roman scoffs in a humorous tone. “How could I forget ?”

“Yes but… usually when that happens there’s a reason for it. Like there’s a purpose.”

“I want to make you feel good. Is that not the purpose for any of it ?”

“What I mean is that we’re doing things that people who are in established relationships do.”

“ We are. Fun, isn’t it?”, he smiled smugly. He enjoyed forcing her to be more direct.

“ I am unspoken for. You have no claim on me and I doubt you intend to wed. I know people see that we are involved no matter how cordial and polite you are in front of others. It’s unbecoming for a woman on a ship full of men to be so loosely claimed, while clearly giving away the very thing reserved for a steady union. I mean what if people think I’m just…kept. And while I think that most of your crew have been outstanding gentlemen to me, they’re still just men Roman”, she uttered quickly.

He raised a brow at her. “ Who said you were unspoken for…?”

She mirrored his face with a surprise of her own. “Uh…well you never said.”

Roman leaned forward with his elbows dominantly on the table across from her. “ My apologies. We are together. Meaning that you are my intended, lover, suitor. Or if you prefer the term courting then that is suitable as well.”

Jane is visibly stunned. She just assumed that any relationship she formed with Roman wouldn’t be a steady one. He wasn’t exactly traditional. “ Courting would mean that you intend to marry…?”

“ So ?”

“ You’re a pirate ?”

“ And?”

Her expression flattened.“ You live in a boat in the middle of the ocean.”

“ Accomodations can be made, don’t you think?

“ I mean yes…”

“ Unless you prefer our connection to stay strictly physical?”, he asked.

“ No no. I was just concerned about how it looked.”

“ How about this…I could make an announcement?”

“ No… it doesn’t have to be some big event.”

“ Well then I won’t hide my affection.”

“ I didn’t take you as a publicly affectionate person.”

“ It’s not like I’ll have my tongue down your throat—without your permission of course. Hand placement goes a long way.”

A mischievous expression spread across her face. “ Well since you’ve declared that we’re courting I’ll have to put you to work more often.”

“ I aim to please Miss Ramlal.”

“ I’ve noticed”, she giggled.

Romans attention faltered when a loud thump echoed beneath them. He stalked to the edge of the ship to see a giant piece of plank wood bumping on against the boat.

“ Look!” Jane gasped.

Behind them a ship splintered into a million pieces laid on the shore of a beach. It looked old and the wood was wet and rotten. The sail was obliterated.

“ Why-has this happened ?”, Said Jane.

“ I’m not sure, it could have been anything. I know one thing for certain though, this means we’re getting closer to our destination.” Roman pulled out his spyglass and further inspected the shipwreck. The wood had chunks bitten out of it as if something attempted to eat the boat.

Worry clenched Roman’s chest as he folded the spyglass and put it back on the table.

“ Room for dessert dove ?”

Jane

3 days of wind and gray skies with absolutely no rain and plenty of thunder, it was unheard of. The air was colder and despite the wind there were no waves. The boat had an almost mechanical float, as if it had feet underneath the hull dragging across the sea floor. Roman insisted that things were moving according to plan. Jane wasn’t so sure.

Suddenly a thick mist filled the air causing Jane to step back cautiously. Jane retreated back towards Roman’s quarters as a huge groaning sound echoed in the distance. A rumble vibrating throughout the ship sent her scrambling for Roman. Sure enough she needn’t look far as he immediately looked for her too, stepping out of his quarters and holding onto her with caution. Something rumbled under the surface of the water completely gray, solid, and endless.

What looked to be a building made of stone or concrete traveled slowly and disruptively out of the sea and into the sky, reaching past the clouds and onwards to the heavens. Water fell from the sides splashing back down to the sea below. Jane turned to Roman with fear, a question already forming on her lips but never making it past them.

“ It’s alright. This is where we’re supposed to be ”, he reassured quietly.

A murmuring crowd had formed now. The building had hundreds of tiny small square glass windows but no light illuminated from them. The shape of the building was rectangular, narrow and smooth. She’d never seen a construction like it. It’s opening was a gaping black hole that she couldn’t see through. Large wet stone steps led to the entrance, just wide enough to put a ship ramp down. As afraid as she was, her feet felt compelled to move forward. If he was going to go then she was coming with him.

“William, Adhar, with me. Jane…”, Roman headed for his cabin leaving the french doors open. The two followed behind him. William loaded his pistol and Adar unsheathed his sword. They sat at the table sharpening weapons and loading their pistols. Roman’s attached two small pistols to his hip. Jane took a pistol for herself and Roman softly took it from her.

“ You should know what you’re getting yourself into before you make your choice”, he said softly.

“Well, let’s hear it”, said Jane.

“The man who gave me the map to the key was rumored to have been the only survivor of the journey but it changed him forever. Every pirate knows that this is rumored to be an eternal prison of all depravity and fear. Here belongs every spirit of corruption—the first of their kind. Some are referred to as fallen angels.”

“ Demons ?”, her face wrinkled in confusion.

“ Aliens, demons..fallen angels. Whatever your persuasion.”

Jane took in a sharp inhale.

“ You do not have to go in. None of you do. I can do this alone”, said Roman.

“No…no I won’t leave you”, said Jane.

“ We stay with the captain”, Said William confidently. No fear.

“ Us pirates have heard the rumors for years about what this will look like…what it will feel like. I fear the rumors have been true. That…this place is every bit of a prison. I don’t know what horrors await us on the other side. All I know is that you will be judged in some way. The myths over the years alter and change.”

“ I understand.”

“ I must warn you that this creature has a fixation for women. Crane mentioned that we may have a better chance of getting the key with you there.”

“ Why?”

“ I have no clue but for that reason maybe you should sit this one out. Fixation could mean anything ?”

“ I’m coming”, Jane said with a gentle firmness. Roman is visibly nervous and holds back on controlling the situation. She can see the wheels turning in his head.

“ Are you absolutely sure Jane?”

“ I stay with the captain”, she uttered.

Roman stood in finality. “ Adhar behind Jane. William at my side.”

The group goes back to preparing their weapons. Hat, boots, long shirts and cotton pants. It was cooler now despite being in the tropics. Jane dressed in Caden’s hand-me-downs, disguising herself as a man as best she could. She was almost sure “fixation” wasn’t a good thing where they were going.

The four of them finished gearing up and made way for the ramp. Caden wished Roman luck eyeing the building with hesitance. Their feet finally touch the wet slabs of the stone stairs leading to the opening. William stands with Roman and Adhar is behind Jane forming a protective shape around her. Jane reaches for Roman’s right hand. He let’s her have it, wanting to give her comfort in some way. She looks back at Caden only to find Adhar staring at their hands with an unreadable expression.

William and Roman take the first steps and the others follow. Their boots echoed into the abyss. A few steps further and they become engulfed in darkness. Then suddenly the dark opening is lit with dozens of torches. They paused when they sensed the presence of another person. A large person–or perhaps it was once a person held a lantern. Large muscles, hooved feet, a tail, long uncanny long arms, and a BULL’S head. Before the scream could leave Jane’s mouth, Adhar covered it. Roman pulled his hand slowly from her and rested his hand on his pistol. William held his hand out, motioning to wait. The bull tilted it’s head to the side watching the group as if to assess them. The Minotaur’s eyes grew darker and wider when they landed on Jane causing Roman to completely pull out his gun.

“ If you want in, those weapons are not allowed”, it spoke with a deep honking barrelous voice. He motioned for Roman’s weapon.

“ The girl needs protection”, said Roman.

“ As does fate. No weapons”, said the Minotaur crossing his arms.

“ Remember what we came here for Roman, it’s fine. We didn’t come all this way for nothing”, Jane whispered.

“ I am the keeper of this prison. I control what goes and what doesn't come out. This is your final warning. Lose the weapons or you will not pass”, the Minotaur warned.

Jane saw the puzzled anger in Roman’s eyes. For a moment she thought he would shoot the damned thing but she rested her hand on his back. With a tense jaw he slowly placed his guns on the ground followed by his sword. The others followed suit. The minotaur watches them for a moment and begins to walk, not bothering to motion for them.

He leads them up a thin and narrow stone staircase with small windows overlooking the sea. There was a wet mildew smell to this place that clung to her nose. The stairs carried them out to a stone floor that held 6 cells on each side. The first creature was something out of a nightmare. It was humanoid with fleshy pale gray wings, an emaciated slim body, large eyes—all pupil, holes for a nose and no mouth. It stood unmoving, eyeing her before placing it’s hand on the invisible barrier that held it inside its cell.

She turned her head in the other direction only to find an even more terrifying creature. There was an Octopus like creature whose skin resembled human flesh with tentacles that had suckers like human mouths. It’s moans sounded like that of a woman’s and an animal mixed together. Her breath hitched and her nails dug into Roman hands so hard that he winced and turned around to face her. The group stopped.

“ Just don’t look Jane”, he reassured her quietly. Adhar placed a reassuring hand on her back looking behind him protectively.

“ Come. They are contained”, said the Minotaur without looking back.

“ Come Miss Ramlal. They look just like my old military unit. Just another walk in the park”, William said quietly in that thick German accent.

They go back to following the Minotaur. Jane keeps her head down to the ground in order to avoid scaring herself again. The only problem is that they would have to travel ten flights of stairs before they reached who they were looking for.

Within those ten flights of stairs the sounds of these…beings were far too intriguing. Some levels were completely silent and so dark it looked like nobody was there. Others were extremely loud with howling screaming monsters. Some of the creatures were violent, banging against their magical traps while others didn’t bother to turn around and see who was there.

She peaked and saw three 4 foot beings with dark grey skin, large eyes, slits for noses, no mouth, long fingers, large heads and tiny child-like bodies. She saw beings that looked like humans with three eyes and mouths full of razor sharp teeth. She saw beings that looked like children with black eyes. Some of them looked like animals that stood on hind legs, some of them were beasts she’d heard of in fairy tales. Lizard creatures, vampires and wendigo. She saw creatures that she’d only heard of in Trinidadian folklore. Douens, Lagahoo’s and Chikcharney’s.

Magic was real. It was a real as rain and it was dark. It was scary. Suddenly she knew without a doubt that the treasure had to be real too.

“ We have arrived”, The Minotaur grunts.

The tenth floor was one long hallway with a stairwell. It was dark. So dark that the torch the Minotaur held looked like a candle light. He snapped his fingers and ten torches lit the room to reveal a cell at the end of the hall. The cell was completely dark as if nothing was there.

The Minotaur turns to them. “ Have you brought them a gift ?”

“ Them? There was no talk of bringing it a gift. Nobody informed us.”

“ They will not speak unless you’ve brought a gift.”

“ I have an apple..”, Adhar says quietly.

The Minotaur hold out his hand awaiting Adhar. Adhar places the apple in his palm. The bull places the apple into a slot by the cell and pushes it into the opening. For a moment it’s just quiet but then a voice calls out. It sounded like a child, a man, and a woman all speaking at once. Like three voices stacked on top of one another.

“Have you met my children? My aspects ?”

“ Children ?” Roman called out the darkness.

“ Yes, they are my flesh and blood and …bone. Created in my image”, the voices groaned.

“ I wasn’t aware,” said Roman cautiously.

“ Perhaps you have read the apocrypha ?”, said a child’s voice. It startled Jane.

Roman doesn’t respond.

“ This is what you were wore that day….it is not ?”, said the child voice. Suddenly the blackness of the glass faded until it revealed a little boy….

Roman

His palms grew cold and wet. The room was hot. There it stood. The reoccurring nightmare that he could never truly out run. Himself.

8 year old Roman stood in front of him in a cotton lava lava, barefoot, no shirt because it was especially hot that day. He’d been playing in the water and his mother finally flagged him down to eat. He ate the last meal he would ever eat from her. He played with his siblings making sand cakes and running around the shore line. Then his life turned upside down.

“ Roman”, he heard Jane whispered to him. He couldn’t even turn around to face her. He was utterly frozen in place. The memories come back to him. His crying, being pried from the hands of his mother, sand burn on his back from being dragged, the screaming, the pleading. Nobody understanding him because of the language barrier. The confusion. The realization that he would never see his family again. The realization that his parents were not invincible and in the end, there was nothing they could do against German occupation. The harshness in the soldiers' glares. The disgust.

“ Or perhaps…this form would be better…”, The creature morphed into his tormentor. Queen Augusta Luise. She stood with a knowing smirk on her face, fanning herself with that imported Chinese fan. She was in her usual dramatic ball gown with an obnoxiously large ruby and diamond necklace. Her hair was in a tight updo with brown hard curls pinned at the top of her head. Her blue eyes cut him as they always had. It had even mimicked her thick accent.

The most gut wrenching, visceral, primal rage came over him. If he ever saw Augusta again he vowed that he would make her suffer. He stepped closer to the cell and the Minotaur reached a hand out to his chest.

“ They can’t get out. You can’t go in. It is written.”

“ What does it want?” Roman urged.

“ Your pain is your payment. If you want the key your pain, secrets, and sins will be judged. There is no prize without punishment.”

“ That hardly sounds fair.”

“ Is it not? You desire a treasure older than your existence. A treasure that can only be held in the hands of a worthy man. Are you worthy ?”

Roman frowned. “ What does my pain do for you?”

“ feeds us..”

Roman frowned, disturbed by its words.

“ We are hungry. It has been many years since we have tasted the sweetness of fruit ... .but the sweetness of sorrow is unmatched. It is dripping from one of you. We could not pass up this opportunity”, says Augusta’s clone with a sickly fake sympathetic voice.

“ Is it really worth it all? We don’t need a fucking key to get the treasure. I’ll take my bloody gun and shoot whatever’s holding the goddamn thing. What does this thing know about any of us?”, William whispered to Roman.

“ William Wright. Prideful William”, The monster morphed into a 3 year old boy with strawberry blonde hair, freckles, large green eyes and a button nose. It’s voice became tiny to match the body it emulated. Jane’s eyes widened in horror as William dropped to his knees in as soon as he saw the boy.

“ Too prideful to spend time with your only son thinking being a provider is more important than being there for your sick child.. Now he’s gone and what do you have to show for it ? A dead General who did nothing wrong but give you the commands you signed up for. Plucking out his eyes in a misplaced fury….”, This monster morphed into a burly man with blonde hair, and a bloody face with missing eyes.

“ Stop this! You know nothing!”, William cried in agony. Jane debated comforting him or staying put. She didn’t want the attention to turn on her.

The creature taunts William in his sons form and voice, leaning against the barrier. “ Prideful William, too prideful to say that he took out his own eyeball in guilt but instead lies and claims that he lost it in a sword fight. William the prideful. Too prideful to write to his wife. You ignore her letters. You let her wallow in her grief alone. Oh…pride is your true love. This sin suits you well. Even now…you cannot face the truth. You refuse it.”

William sat on the floor reduced to tears, head tucked between his legs. How easy this fierce man broke down. Roman’s fierce fighter had self- destructed. A reminder that everyone has something in their life worth crying over no matter how strong they appear.

Roman rested his hands on Williams' shoulder. He looked back up into the cell to see Augsta staring at him with that smirk again.

“ Do you accept..wraithful Roman?”

Roman’s face fell. “ Fine…but not her.”

Augusta twirled her hair playfully. “ If your pain is worth the treasure you seek, then perhaps…”

“ NOT. HER”, said Roman sternly.

“ We shall see. Come …”, the monster said in a gentle voice as it morphed into a young woman with nearly ankle length jet black hair. She had tawny brown skin, thick brown eyes, a wide nose and full pink lips. She was gorgeous… She was his mother.

Roman let the tears happen, he didnt try to wipe them away. It was too painful to claim indifference. It had been many years since he saw her face. His mother– the monster, was crying with him. She placed her hand on the invisible barrier and Roman nearly did the same. He stopped himself remembering that it wasn’t her.

“ She grieved you for a long time. She didn’t believe you to be gone forever. She convinced herself that it was a bad dream and that you were simply lost. But you were not lost.. You had a new mother..”, said the womanly voice. The monster then turned to Augusta again. Anger creeped up on the back of his neck. He always felt anger on his back and on his neck. Now it was no different.

“ Have your lover the fantasies you have of killing your former mother?”

“ She is not my mother..”, Roman sneered.

“ You called her Mommy. You held her hands in yours, appeased her even when she made you beg for a God you didn't believe in. She beat you into submission. So peculiar how hatred can turn into an obsession. You were her little doll and you performed for her for years. Making her believe that her love was the cause for your greatness. Fencing, Math, Polo, Portuguese,Spanish, German, English, Japanese. Star pupil…handsome and muscular. Smart as a whip. Well spoken…they would say. When her back was turned you spat in her food. You stole her items and sold them for free. You cursed her name every night before you closed your eyes. Too afraid to show your rage, too afraid to upset your captor. How she had turned you into her perfect pet, performing at a whim and entertaining her high born friends.Then suddenly she outgrew you. Her little puppy had turned into a wolf and that rage had cracked and broken the seams of your composure. She kicked out her dog..”, The monster taunted. It shifted to his teenage self in tattered clothes.

“ Suddenly the victim becomes the monster. Does she know about the killing spree you went on after she discarded you? Kings guards, high society sweethearts? Anyone who looked at you wrong? You may believe that your anger was warranted but how many orphans did you create ? Mothers you made childless? They called you the Lacerator because of the mess you left behind. Everywhere you went there was destruction and pain. You killed your fellow pirates in ways that would make the devil blush. You killed for money, for greed, for power. Yet you believe that the family you formed in your crew washes the stain of blood from your hands?”

Roman turned to Jane to see a sick look on her face. Would she see him differently after this?

“ You mention no context. Those people saw me as subhuman. Some of them were even ordered to kill me or took it upon themselves to torment me. I did what I had to do to survive”, Roman countered.

“ Not all of them were high born. Some of them were similar to yourself. Class traitor…so dignified in your approach to violence. Does she know that every moment of your life you have a wraith boiling inside of you so legendary that I can feel it through our barrier. You wish to harm me. You wish to harm those who have done you wrong but instead you have pillaged your way to your current riches. The same way the Germans pillaged your people. No amount of blood spilled will fill the hole inside of you. Wraithful Roman. Be hopeful that all this suffering will have amounted to something. May god save the ones you love if you get to that treasure and find nothing but bones and dust.”

Roman watched silently as the monster morphed itself into countless faces…some he remembered and others he didn’t. He could bare it no longer.

“ You got what you wanted”, Roman sneered. The monster froze with the terror stricken face of his last kill. A pirate from Captain Night’s ship.

“ Adhar…oh Adhar....”, the creature groaned in a woman’s voice. It’s figure became that of a woman moaning in pleasure. Gingers, Brunette’s, Black, White, Asian. Fair skinned and Dark skinned. They all moaned Adhar’s name one after the other.

“ They all loved you, Adhar. What is it about you that drives women to madness ? What wound do you press against that makes them feel so unworthy. Or is it you? Is it you who feels unworthy ? Is it you searching for something you never had ? Perhaps it was your mother. She couldn’t be bothered to care about you. She was forced to have you. You barely know the warmth of a mothers love. Or was it your father ? Nothing was ever truly good enough for him. You weren’t a man in his eyes. Kita almost made you whole again. She loved you dearly…”, a soft voice called out. She was undoubtedly south Asian. Green eyes, curly shoulder length hair, elaborate jewelry and an olive complexion. Roman looked back at Adhar to see a watery smile spread across his face.

“ I didn’t have any money. I just wanted to be able to provide for Kita. To give her nice things. To take care of her like a real man”, Adhar sniffled.

“ Instead of stepping up, asking her father for her hand and living a humble life— you rob and steal. You killed the market owner, someone you knew since childhood. You take from your own community. You betray the ones you love for money. They had no choice but to send you away leaving Kita with broken promises and a broken heart. What do you do to ease the pain? You pursue countless women, giving them sweet nothings. They awake to the smell of you on their sheets. Lustful lonely Adhar, so sure he’s content. So sure that he’s simply a kind man. So sure he made the right choice but constantly searching for a woman you’ll never have. Your longing has no restraint. It is so boundless that it has made you envious of the man who saved you from a life of poverty and starvation”, said the monster.

Adhar breathing quickened. His fists balled up in flattered fashion. “I- I- I just didn’t want to be …I didn’t meant to hurt anyone. That was never my intent….”

Then with a sudden turn of events Kita morphed into full lips, brown almond eyes and black onyx hair. Roman looked at himself on the other side of the glass. The monster mirrored him perfectly before splitting itself into a second person. Jane. The monster had morphed into himself and Jane. Roman tensed up not understanding where this was going,

“ Not only are you lustful but you are envious. Envious of affections shared between your captain and your new friend. Envious of a love lost. Envious of the love brewing between Roman and his intended. If you feel that you are unloveable—then you will always be. No matter how much you fuck the loneliness away you are lustful lonely Adhar. Adar the envious”, said Roman’s Doppelganger. It turned to kiss Jane’s doppelganger. Adhar looked sick as he glanced over to Roman and then Jane.

Roman was just as embarrassed as Adhar was. All the speculations he had about Adhar and it never occurred to him that he was jealous of what he and Jane shared. He assumed he just wanted Jane but that wasn’t the case. He wanted what they had. He didn’t know about Kita or much about his life before. Adhar was a newer crew member who he didn’t get the chance to speak with often. He took him in because of his proficiency with the sword.

Roman turned to look back at Jane who was standing behind the Minotaur now. The last time she looked this frantic was the first time they saw each other. William was in a ball on the floor staring at the wall. Adhar looked like he was seconds from cracking. Everyone was a mess. Now he understood what the creature meant when it said pain. Everything about this was painful. Their worst thoughts about themselves actualized.

“ If you don’t mind sir I’ll…be waiting behind the door. Just yell for me? ”, Adhar looked to Roman. Roman nodded in agreement allowing him an early exit.

“ We are done”, Roman says with resistance. For the first time in his life…he was afraid. He was afraid of what came next. He was afraid for Jane.

“ I could stop now but…this treasure that you want. It’s more than just Gold, Silver, Rubies and Diamonds. This treasure would make you the wealthiest person to have ever lived. The monarchies would pale in comparison to you. I have seen nothing to convince me of any of your repentance. If you give me her pain I could feed off it for months. Give me her or you return to your ship and get swallowed by the sea”, the monster hissed. It’s voice was nowhere near the familiarity of a human. It was stripped of any of humanity.

“ She is mine to protect. We will and take our chances. Jane come, we are leaving ,” Roman stalked to her but she stepped back.

“ N-no. No I can do it.”

“ I don’t want this. You don’t want this Jane”, Roman raised his tone ever so slightly. He didn’t mean to but his mind was spinning. Whatever she wasn’t ready to tell him, surely this wasn’t the way she’d go about it?

Jane walked over to him and placed her hands in his in an attempt to calm him.“Do you honestly think that this would be the worst thing that’s ever happened to me? I’m stronger than you think. Besides…it all had to have been for something. There’s nothing that this thing can tell me that I haven’t already told myself”, Jane smiled sadly. Roman nodded and hesitantly stepped out of her way.

Jane

The creature before her was incomprehensible. It was all things horror, despair, loneliness, fear, lust and darkness. It was many things and then nothing at all. Limbs, eyes, many teeth—countless teeth. Many faces and orphases. Its shape took up the entirety of it cell. And then in an instant it mirrored her. It looked just like her, like she was standing in a mirror.

“ I’m probably not in the position to make requests but…would it be okay if William left the room as well as the Minotaur.”

“ fine”, said the monster.

The Minotaur picks up William and throws him over his shoulder, leaving out of the room. Now it was just Roman and herself and this ….thing.

“ Come closer sweet little creature…”, said her doppelganger.

She stepped forward just a few short inches from the barrier. Her doppelganger looked her up and down, walking back and forth from one end of the cage to another in a predatory fashion. Jane didn’t not falter her gaze.

“ I was told you like women ? Why is that ?”

“ Like isn’t the word I’d use to describe you creatures. It’s so much more than that. The essence of a woman is sweeter…their secrets—darker. You are the original sinners. Your capacity for corruption knows no bounds.”

“ I see”, says Jane quietly.

“ Jane Ramlal. Trinidad and Tobago…. September 22nd. Family is gone—I presume it’s from the Spanish and British occupation”, her doppleganger assessed in a detached manner.

“ You have a knack for lying don’t you? Your grandfather taught you reading, writing and arithmetic. Very rare for a girl like you…and to have to pretend all those years to not know a thing.”

“ he did.”

“ Such sadness. It wafts off you. Depressive, even as a child. Fun times were short lived. It’s almost like you were doomed from the start.”

Jane doesn’t respond. There was no need to. She couldn’t change what she was born into. There no point in being defensive.

“ You killed a general with your cousin at 10 years old. You put a scotch bonnet in his drink and it burned a hole in his stomach. I would deduct points for that but he wasn’t a very good man either. Seems like you know how to pick the bad apples unlike your dear friend Roman.”

“ It wasn’t right.”

The creature looked at her strangely as if her accountability was unusual.

“ How hard it must have been for you working for high society. Cruel wives and their vulture husbands. The last 13 years of your life have seemed to blur together. Every day is the same. Work, sleep, work, sleep. No enjoyment, no happiness. It’s as if I’m looking at a loop.”

Jane remained unmoved. “ Yes I only just…started living recently.”

<<<<<<<IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO BRIEF MENTIONS OF SA STOP HERE. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>!!!!!!!!

“ And you are no stranger to the violence of men?”

And there it was. Jane froze and closed her eyes slowly in shame. That’s it… the moment she was dreading. The one thing she would never say. The reasons she told the other men to leave.

“ I am more than familiar”, she croaked.

“ Something was taken from you…more than once. And again fairly recently on this boat taking you the America’s. You wish to not exist..?”

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<SAFE.

“ I….”, tears flooded Jane’s eyes. “ I have many times.”

The doppelganger tilted its head. “even now?”

“ Months ago. Not now.”

“ That desire drove you to poke holes into the hull of that ship for months with screws and knives. When the storm came the ship could not withstand it. However, the storm took a violent turn and you were left for dead. You survived by hanging onto driftwood. What a viper you are. You play helpless very well”, the Doppelganger smirked at her.

“ Yes…I did those things”, Jane said stoically. She wasn’t proud of what she did but she felt that she had no other choice. She wouldn’t bother rationalizing it to the creature.

“ You have been given an exit from your suffering. You cannot tell the dark from the light. All around you… endless possibilities. So many women would want what you have. The chance to start over but you are haunted by your past. I give you the sin of trisitia. An old sin long before the seven. Tristia…sorrow..Are you aware of the cure for each sin?”

“ I am not.”

“ For lust it is self control. For gluttony it is temperance. For greed it is charity. For sloth it is diligence. For wrath it is patience. For envy it is kindness. And for pride it is humility. Can you guess what the cure for sorrow is ?”

“ No…”

“ To live. Jane Ramlal…I sentence you to live.”

Jane looked thoughtfully at her doppleganger. The last few months had proven to her that she didn’t know what it meant to live until recently. It wasn’t just surviving like she’d always known. Living…enjoying life. Eating food when you’re not hungry. Not caring about how rich a dessert tastes. Buying clothes for fun. Listening to music and swaying to it. Relaxing and not feeling guilty about it. Being present enough to laugh at a joke. Being admired and not feeling unworthy for it. That was living. That was what she’d been missing for so long. “ Have I…given you enough ?”

“ I suppose. You are worthy of this treasure. You may have the key”, says the creature in a bold flat tone. It shifts back into its original form. Carefully it used their hand to reach inside of one of its many mouths and pulled out a key with a long chain. It placed the key into the slot box, pushing it to the outside. Jane picked up the key and held it in her palm. It was a mortice shape.

“ Only you may wear it. If you give the key to anyone else it will destroy them. Now that you have this key there will be many creatures that do not want you to have it. Keep it safe and do not lose it.”

“ I will protect it”, Jane placed the chain around her neck and tucked it into her shirt.

She turned to Roman and saw such a tired and withered expression on his face. It was as if being here had aged him 10 years.

“ Let’s get out of here”, she said.

“ Goodbyeeee friendsssss!”, the creature hissed.

Roman makes no protest as he leads her out of the room. The Minotaur, William, and Adhar all stood quietly by the stairs. They gathered their weapons and made way for the boat. The bull led them back out to their ship without so much as a goodbye. She walked up the ramp and looked back at the Minotaur standing in the entrance.

Magic was real. It was as real as rain. And it was dark. This..she knew to be true now.

An exhaustion came over her so heavily. She stumbled into Roman’s cabin, kicking off her boots. He trailed behind her placing his weapons on the same table they strategized at. William and Adhar left to go be alone. Truthfully she didn’t want to be alone after something so triggering and sensitizing.

She’d never seen Roman cry and his nose was still red from it. She studied his face thinking about all the things he did. She felt not a single ounce of judgment towards him. He was a bit more morally complex than she initially thought. There was a time in his life that he was unrecognizable compared to the man before her. She understood it all. She could accept that anger for his past. She was still angry about her own past—sin or not.

The two sat in silence for a few minutes before he pulled a hidden stash of rum. He sat out two glasses and she chugged the first serving. The second glass she poured on her own, filling it all the way to the rim. Alcohol never really made the pain stop but it slowed down her thoughts. She took another burning gulp.

“ Easy….”, Roman sighed across the table. She sat the cup down and suddenly the tears came. They racked over her heavily and violently. She muffled the sounds with her face in her hands. Roman reached across the table and grabbed one of her hands.

“ It’s alright dove”, he whispered.

“ It’s not alright. I feel. I feel…violated. I feel open. I hate this feeling.”, she sniffled.

“ We all do.”

“ I was never going to tell you what happened to me. Especially on that ship.”

“ Why….”

“ Because men pretend to sympathize…to empathize. They pretend to be good people but they’re not. You tell them your past and they’ll be sure to give you double of it. To make it hurt worse.”

Roman didn’t respond. He wasn’t sure how to.

“ I…have spent so many years trying to come to peace with it. Then the ship happened and it unraveled me. I don’t know if I’ll ever be whole enough again to give you what you want.”

Roman frowned in confusion.“ What do I want ?”

“ What all men want. Real sex. Not whatever game that was a week ago.”

“ Game? That’s how you saw it ?”

“ What could be better than taking the pleasure you want as opposed to spending all your time giving it ? I came and you got nothing”, Jane scoffed, wiping her face.

“ You’re approaching this like some type of payment Jane. Sex isn't some transaction—at least not how I see it. Not with you. I don’t pleasure you in hopes that you do it back. I do it because I enjoy it and nothing more.”

“ I don’t believe you”, she shrugged.

Roman was dumbfounded. Absolutely dumbfounded. He thought he made his intentions clear.

“ What aren’t I saying to make this better? What am I missing ? How do I take this pain from you ?”

“ You can't, it's already done.”

“ Jane..”

“ I can’t….I can’t go all the way with you right now. I don’t know if I’ll ever enjoy real sex again. And what’s even more maddening is that I experience a desire for you that supersedes any other man I’ve encountered. I crave you in a way that is foreign to me. But I cannot give you the very thing that I’m supposed to. What any woman would. I’m trapped in my body—in my desire. I’m fucked up. I’m…broken Roman.”

“ Don’t say that….”

“ I am.. it’s true.”

“ It’s not true. I want whatever you give me. I want you. There’s so many other options on the table for us. It doesn’t have to be just ONE way Jane. However and whatever we decide to do is for us only. There’s no guideline on this sort of thing. I’m in no rush.”

“ You told me that if I chose you I would be guilty of crime by association. I’m telling you if you choose me—I may not be able to fulfill you sexually in the way that you need. At least not in this moment. That could be days, months, weeks, years. It could be a lifetime if we make it that long.”

“ I’m telling you that there are other ways. I am more than fulfilled right now. I’m fulfilled by your gaze. The touch of your hand. Whatever you’re comfortable with is what I’m comfortable with.”

“ You say that now but what happens when what I give you is not enough anymore? There could be someone else, someone more willing. Someone more beautiful.”

“ You must think my brain is located in my cock”, Roman chuckled.

“ I…I just want it all out of the table.”

“ No seriously. You’ve got to stop with these generalized statements about men. I know the horrors of men. Every person who looks like you and me understands those horrors. What I can say is that I know men don’t always have the best representatives. A good portion of them are shit—even I can agree. And for about a decade of my life I was one of them. But people do change Jane. I changed. I changed even more when I met you. Being able to call you mine is enough. Whatever you’re comfortable with. I will never pressure you. I meant it when I said you’ve paid your dues. I’m not here to cause you anymore pain. Neither one of us needs that now. Especially not after today”, Roman urged.

She carefully took in everything he said. The conviction in which he spoke, the sincerity in his eyes… he was telling the truth. Her gut told her so.

Roman continued. “ You and me—you especially, have been through hell and back. Let us have this one thing to ourselves, for ourselves. Leave the expectations behind you. I’m not your dictator. I'm not here to tell you what you should or should not do as a woman. I just want this, I want us. Nothing more.”

Jane’s face wrinkled in confusion. Roman was a strange bird. Any other man would have walked away—at least the ones she encountered previously. “ That’s not very traditional, you know ? You really truly want this…all my darkness? All my pain? It’s not too much for you ?”

“ In case you haven’t noticed, I’m nowhere near a traditional man. I could ask you the same but who else would understand me like you? You heard about all those things I did in my past and you still look at me like I hold the moon and stars. Like me—an ole’ pirate, has the right to cast judgment over you. I want you and anything that comes with it. The good and the bad.”

Roman gets up from his chair and walks over to her, crouching down to where she sat. Her arms leaned over his shoulders and she wrapped them around him tightly in a deep decompressing embrace. How often do they hug?? Not often, if even at all especially for it to have felt so good. She revels in the feeling, confused on how something so simple had taken so much weight off her shoulders. He pulls away and cradles her face in his hands.

“ I will take your darkness and turn it sweet. This I vow to you. No secret of yours should be burdened alone”, he says.

“ Okay”, mutters wiping a stray tear from her cheek. Why did she always end up crying in his arms? Why was it so easy too?

“ Okay”, he chuckles. He kisses her lips gently and sweetly. Like she’s made of glass. She doesn’t mind it. She doesn’t mind being doted on and revered as precious especially after such a hard conversation.

“ What can I do to make your frown turn upside down ?”

“ I need a hot bath”, she murmured.

“ Okay I can do that . Any other requests ?”

“ More of what you made me earlier.”

“ ahh. The Oka l’a ?”

“ Yes please”, she mumbled face first into his shoulder. All that crying had made her sleepy.

“ Your wish is my command.”

Roman

Much to Roman’s dismay, they stopped on the deserted island with the rotting boat for barnacle scraping. It was necessary to ensure that the ship continued to travel at its highest speed. Barnacle scraping was one of the more annoying facets of being a crew member. In moments like this he was thankful to be the Captain. All that sand and salt water battering against someone while they scraped away with all their might—it wasn’t fun. Rory and Thomas were on duty. He watched them scrape against the hall of the boat, flinging the barnacles into the sand.

He needed to touch land and recenter his thoughts. His mind kept wandering back to all the venom that the creature spat. The conversation with Jane played on a loop in his mind. He had come to the realization that every action he made with Jane was in protest to all the beliefs she had about men. It would be his job to show her better everyday. It wasn’t a hard job but she was resistant to her prior beliefs. He was patient with her.

He let a wave of warmth fill his lungs from his pipe as he stared at his ship from the beach. Should he feel guilty for his anger towards the monarchy? It wasn’t just Augusta that caused him pain. There were many people like her. However, he was angry quite a lot. It was something he had only recently gotten a hold of 5 years ago. He found other cathartic ways to deal with it. He’d gotten into reading again and collecting cigars. He’d even gotten a fucking parrot but every now and then his mind would wonder.

He’d rethink arguments and injustices and dream up something better. A desperate need to be the savior he needed for himself. The thirst for vengeance. The occurring nightmares did him no favours. Sure, he was remorseful of the violence that ensued. His treck to the top of the food chain had been bloody—sometimes unnecessarily. He was bitter for many years. Still, if Roman had no choice but to be removed from his family he would choose being a pirate always. He never wanted the life of a monarch.

This constant battle of being a fierce figurehead and a the gentlest version of himself for Jane was a catch 22. One side of him needed the other, yet his line of work contradicted the very thing he wanted to give her. How much longer could this go on? He would never out run the cruel man he used to be. But he had to make space for the man Jane needed.

The ache for her returned, dull and throbbing like a maddening tooth ache. Ever since he’d nearly left her it seemed like there was a thin long string between them. If he got too far she’d pop into his head and somehow he’d return. He’d have to head back soon. But he needed this fucking smoke.

He undressed her for her bath in his room. She was stunning while clothed and even more stunning naked. It seemed quite redundant after the intensity of their discussion. However she seemed to be fairly comfortable. He kissed her intensely before he left, he could still feel it on his mouth. He liked the way she used his space, it made the cabin feel “lived in”. He could see himself shutting out the world and imagining the captain's quarters as a house on land. She’d be busy doing tasks around the space like a house. There would not be a roaring sea outside and he’d have her all to himself. He would soon suggest the idea of her moving her things into his cabin. There was no use in being apart.

He turned around to look at the boat, realizing he had strayed further away than he should have. He threw his cigar in the sand and squashed it with his foot. He watched the embers burn out in the sand. A distant yell snaps him out of his thoughts.

He can see Thomas stumbling backwards in the distance before getting up and lunging forward. Maybe a fight broke out? Roman starts a light jog back to the boat. Another yell and Adhar appears to be swinging his sword around—fighting? Roman was sprinting now. He dreaded the thought of secret attack but how? They were in the middle of nowhere.

He ran to the other side of the boat to find Thomas sparing with what could only be described as a skeleton. A skeleton?

“ Don’t just stand there! It’s strong !”, Thomas choked. It took Roman a moment to actually process what he was looking at. Not even the creatures in the prison confused him this much. The Skeleton had its forearm pressed against Thomas's neck. Roman grabbed the back of its head and swung it effortlessly to the ground. The bones shattered apart. The two just stand there panting while looking at the pile of bones.

“ How the fuck did you manage to let a skeleton choke you?”, Roman turned to Thomas.

Thomas rubbed his sore throat. “ I’m telling you it was kind of strong. And it’s bones hurt. Bloody thing got me while my back was turned”, he hissed. Suddenly Thomas’s eyes widened. Roman turns around to find that the skeleton had reanimated. This time he pulled out his sword and slashed across it’s sternum with his sword, causing it to fall again.

“ Bloody hell….”, Roman groaned as the Skeleton made yet another attempt and rebuild itself.

“ Just keep it discombobulated. It can’t hurt you if it can’t put itself back together”, he gave his sword to Thomas and stalked back to the ramp.

The top deck was hell. Pirates' backs were being ridden by skeletons in Tang dynasty armor. Rory blasted through a group of skeletons with a roar sending bone parts flying everywhere. Adhar was sword fighting with two skeletons at the same time. Williams fought at the edge of the ship sending bones flying into the sand. Caden used a femur as a weapon warding off approaching skeletons. Each time a skeleton was knocked down they’d reanimate and come back for more.

“ Anybody got a fucking match ?”, Williams yelled with a pipe in his mouth flying a bone down the beach.

“ Don’t even bother they won’t burn, OUCH!”, Earl yelped as a Skeleton bit his ear.

The skeletons that managed to get on the ship held Dao’s. Some of them were rusted by sea water making sharp, rusted, jagged weapons that could potentially kill someone. That’s how Roman ended up in a fight with an armored Skeleton holding a spear. One for the story books.

Jane

She actually didn’t mean to fall asleep in his bed but he insisted that he had work to do. To her surprise she woke up to yelling. She quickly grabbed her pistol off Roman’s table and busted the French doors open to find utter chaos. Skeletons were everywhere and they were angry? Roman fought somewhere in the middle of the deck, throwing Skeleton heads in the air and kicking them off the boat.

An especially tall Skeleton in thick black armor came stomping towards her. Her eyes widened and she lifted her gun at its head, shooting at it in three short bursts. She shot the head, chest and pelvis. It paused looking at her momentarily before collapsing onto itself. Roman turned around, nose flared in a heavy irritation. He storms over to her.

“ Get back in there and close the door”, he hissed.

“ What ?! No. I just killed that thing. It looks like you guys need the help!”, she gawked.

“ It’s not safe t-— wait”, Roman punched the head off a skeleton creeping up behind Jane.

“ They’re trying to stab people with rusty knives. I’ll be damned if you die because a bag of bones shanked you. Go back into my room and lock the door”, Roman demanded. Another Skeleton attempted to swipe at Jane with a spear. He snatched the spear from the Skeleton’s arms causing the bones to disconnect from it. Now an armless Skelton was trying to bite him.

“ I’m fighting. We talked about this. You said I was perfectly capable of defen— HEY!”, Jane scoffs as Roman picks her and throws her over his shoulder like a bag of flour. She scrambles against his hold, beating against his back but it’s pointless.

Roman storms through the French doors and plops her on the bed. She takes a pillow and throws it at him. When she realizes he’s heading for the door she sprints after him. She's a second slower than him and he manages to trap her inside.

Roman

He wraps his belt around the double door handles and places a sword in between them to prevent her escape. He can hear her yelling and beating from the other side.

“ William!”

“ Aye Cap’n?”, he turns to Roman, face drenched with sweat.

“ Do not let Jane leave that room. Do not let anything enter that room. She can’t come out.”

“ Aye”, William stalked over to the door with a pistol standing in front of it.

“ JACKASS!!”, she shouts from the other side of the door.

10 minutes into this “fight” a skeleton had actually managed to slash the skin on his arm. It did nothing but piss him off more. Thomas had retreated back onto the boat with a Skeleton biting his ankle like one of those rat terriers.

“ We need to get off this bloody island!” Adhar yelled in exhaustion. There were over 100 Skeletons reanimating themselves with some rising from the under the sand, crawling from the rotten boat and even coming out of the tree line.

“ Fuck this. Raise the sails. Cortez! Get us out!” Roman yelled, pushing another skeleton down the side of the boat.

They made sail again, throwing the bones overboard. The reanimated bones on the shoreline tried following the boat but fell apart once the water reached their knees. What was left of the skeletons was dumped in the water.

The men sat there panting on the wind deck. This was somehow the perfect way to end a shitty day. Some of them had bite marks, cuts and bruises. Others just looked disheveled.

“ Let me out of here you NOW!!”, he heard Jane screech from the other side of the door. Roman painfully peeled himself from the floor and untied the French doors. Jane swung the door open and pushed Roman. He barely stumbled. Her eyes widened when she saw his arm.

“ You’re hurt”, she held his arm.

“ Just a scratch”.

“ You’re bleeding onto the fucking floor. Earl!.”, She pulled him inside the cabin and sat him down.

Earl came and assessed his arm.“Superficial though I’m sure very uncomfortable. You won’t need any stitches; the cut was clean. Why don’t we get you an astringent, some ointment and a bandage?”

“ I can help him. Why don’t you go relax Earl. I’m sure it’s been a long day for you.”

Earl thanked her and gave her the wound supplies before leaving, likely to go assess his own bite. After a quick wash up, Roman sat at the table with Jane on her knees, pressed witch hazel against the wound. She rinsed it cleaned and dabbed bag balm on the very top.

“ You know you might not have gotten than cut if you actually let me help”, she sighed wrapping his arm with a bandage.

“ It was no big deal.”

“ Oh really? If it was no big deal then why didn’t you let me help?”, she bit.

“ Rusty. knives.”

“ I don’t. care”, she mimicked.

Jane rolled her eyes and sat the bandage roll on the table. Roman unexpectedly pulled her forward in between his legs, leaning over her just inches above her face.

Roman smirked. “ Have I ever told you how cute you are when you’re mad?”

He leaned down and kissed her mouth firmly in a long hum. She stiffened and then softened, swatting at his chest as he pulled away. He chuckled at the pout on her face.

“ You’re not funny”, she whined with annoyance.

“ Maybe not but I have to admit, after all the shit that happened today I never guessed I would be nearly stabbed by a dead guy.”

“ Well…that thing did say that other creatures won’t want us to have the key . I just hope nothing else comes up. Nothing we can’t handle at least”, Jane sighed.

“ Whatever it is we will get through it.”

“ Not if you lock me away”, she frowns.

“ Alright fine. Next time I promise but not if I sense your imminent death.”

“ Fine but you’re going to have to make it up to me.”

“ How ?”

“ I don’t know.”

“ I could always give you a kiss.”

“ You just gave me a kiss?”

“ Not that kind of kiss darling.”

She yawns in an exaggerated manner. “ Maybe with breakfast. I’m exhausted.” She stands putting the pound supplies back in the aid kit.

“ Then… I bid you a goodnight Miss Ramlal.”

“ Good night you stubborn ass”, she drawled on her way to the door.

“ One of these days you’re going to have to move your things in with mine. it’s only right ”, he called back to her.

“ In the midst of you making it up to me, maybe you’ll give me your proposition”, she winked at the door before turning the corner.

Roman accepted that challengeand went to bed with a stiff cock.

Jane

Thanks to her nap earlier she was up tonight. She read, she had a snack, she even tried on new dresses she got back in Port Plado before they left. She was bored. It also didn’t help that ever since their exchange she’d thought alot about that “convincing”. She should have taken the offer.

A knock on her door pulled her from her thoughts. She gets up pulling on her robe and answers the door. Roman is standing there wish disheveled hair, opened shirt, just trousers.

“ May I come in ?” He asks quietly.

“ Of course”, she moved over to let him sit on her bed.

“ How’d you know I was awake?”

“ I could see a light under your door.”

“ Oh. Right ”, she smiled pulling her robe around herself.

“ feeling okay ?”

“ yes I’m fine. Just a bit restless”, she looked at his trousers and could see a dint. Her belly flipped in excitement but she tried to hide it. He seemed tired.

“May I…..touch you ?”

Fuck it…

“ Ye—-.” before she can even finish the word he ambushes her, covering her mouth with his mouth. He pushes up her dress. They fell backwards on the bed. He pins her left leg to her stomach, keeping her open to reveal her glistening center. He licks three fingers and places them at her clit swirling them in tight firm circles. Her eyes nearly cross as her head falls back. He's so big she can’t close her legs. He props her other leg over his shoulder for better access. She has to cover her mouth from the sudden stimulation. She’s audibly wet which gives away the arousal she’s had for the last few hours. He pulls back to spit on her cunt and then resumes with those firm circles.

“ Roman ”, she sighs.

“Jane”, he mocks quietly.

“ What are you doing ?”, she asks lazily. She knew exactly what but her mind didn’t have enough time to calculate the last 30 seconds.

“ You really do have such a pretty cunt”, he grunted against her mouth. She just sighs softly against them, closing her eyes and relishing in the warmth of his fingers.

“ I’ve been thinking about how it tastes ever since that night. I told you…there are so many ways to get my point across. You haven’t an inkling on what truly satisfies me. I can’t be satifised- won’t be satisfied, unless I can see you crumble in my fucking hands.” His tone was rough and sharper than usual. She didn’t mind it at all. He pulls back to gently but firmly slap her cunt and it ignites all of her pleasure centers. She gasps, Instinctively closing her legs. To no avail she remains wide open to him. Her back bends off the bed as he continues rubbing her clit.

“ Stay right there. You’re doing such a good job”, he whispered. She’s whimpering behind her hand now. He looks down to see a sticky arousal forming around his fingers.

“ You see, if you were in my bed you could yell as loud as you want. Think about that next time because I plan on doing this again”, he sucked her neck. Her eyes rolled around her skull as she gripped his bicep. She can feel her nails biting into his skin. It just makes his hand move faster.

“ Roman…sensitive”, she warned.

“ I hope you know that you’re not getting up from under me until you’re properly ruined”, he chuckles darkly. He flashes his teeth and he can see another dreadful wave of arousal come over her features.

“ You’re not ready to go all the way, that’s fine. I can take that. Take all the time you need but I will watch you cum. Whether I do it for you or you do it yourself. I will watch you shatter every single time Jane”, he murmured against her temple. Her brows scrunch and her lips tremble into a pout as she feels herself coming close to the edge. A true delirium was seeping in as she neared her impending climax. That stage where she’d do or say anything to cum. No matter how bat shit crazy it was. She’d recite the Spanish alphabet if it meant he kept going.

“ Yes ...yes only you—make me come”, she whined hazily. Her entire body had broken out into a light sweat. Properly wanton and consumed by desire. Not caring about her appearance. Raw pleasure.

“ Only me, yes. Say it again”, he says with another quick slap to her cunt.

“ Onl-Oh fuuckk”, she squeaked.

“ Tell me all the filth going on in your head right now. Tell me and I’ll lick you a bit. Tell me what you were thinking about before I came in here”, he taunts in her ear.

“ Y-your tongue. Your shouldersss-shit!”, she moaned.

“ What a good girl you are..”, he pulls away and laps at her clit. His tongue is pleasantly cooler than her heated sensitive skin, which gives her a gush of relief. Yet as quickly as she relaxed, she tensed up at the feeling of his tongue. It poked, flicked, lapped and dipped at the entirety of her cunt, pushing her closer to her release. She was seconds away from coming undone right then but he pulled away to watch her sex. She’s drenched down to the sheets. The longer he prolongs her pleasure the wetter she gets. He licks into her awaiting mouth.

“ You like my tongue?”, he mumbles against her lips.

“ Yes I love it I love it love it”, she chants desperately into the quiet of his mouth. His fingers become more frantic.

He shuts her up here and there with lip locks, sucking on her tongue to keep her at bay. Or he’d pull away just to rest his forehead on hers and watch the way her face breaks up and contorts. H finds her devastating in the height of pleasure—a feast for the eyes. He kisses her forehead as she hiccups underneath him, becoming desperate for reprieve.

“ More ?”, he asks her. She neither nods nor denies, just stares at him with pleading eyes. He pulls his hand away.

“ Open your mouth and say it”, he says firmly.

“ Yes please”, she gushes desperately.

She bucks her hips. He takes his thumb into his mouth, sucks it and places it right on her clit, swirling in fast circles now. Her pleasure becomes more narrowed and more precise. Her head falls back but he uses his other hand to pull the back of her head up, forcing her to look at him.

“ Right here. Right at me”, he says. Forehead to forehead she can see his pupils dilate.

“ I’m- I- I ”, she whimpers. Her words fail her. She’s so close she can taste it.

“ Shh. Just give it to me darling”, he soothed shushing her.

She felt it was her duty to describe to him how good this felt. How mad she was driving her. She almost pitied him for not being able to feel this intensely. So good so…

“ Look at that. So… wet. You see what happens when you keep from it. It’s weeping Jane”, he taunts.

God his fingers... Holy shit his fucking fingers. In her right mind she’d debate if they were better than his tongue. She can only nod as her eyes roll into the back her skull drunkenly. Just what he wanted.

She fists the front of his shirt stretching it towards her, closing the rest of the distance between them.

“ I’m going to cum”, she croaks out in a panic from the force of which she can feel her orgasm sprinting towards her. She imagines it like a train. This would be a big one —just as big as the party if not bigger. She holds onto his wrist in an attempt to brace herself. Eyes wide and filled with worry and desire. There were over 100 pirates just outside that door and the only thing on her mind was how hard she was about to come.

And then her orgasm briefly paused in it’s pursuit of her and she was frozen at her peak for seconds longer than she’s used to. She wants to screech at the intensity. It was agonizing. It was deliciously agonizing. Her climax had her by her throat and it was nearly unbearable.

“ Go ahead, Dove. Don’t need my permission”, Roman whispered softly.

And his words dislodge any delays and fuck her mind. What follows is nothing but pure ecstasy. She contemplates pushing against his chest or biting him to withstand the force. All she can muster up is the bend of her back off the bed. He smashes his mouth to hers but there’s no need. The release is so intense she can barely make a sound. Her hearing gives out and the room fills with dots.

“ Breathe”, he whispers. She goes limp from the lack of air she denied herself.Seconds later he pulls his hand away.

The moment a gust of air pushes past her mouth he eats it, swallowing it down for himself and pulling her into a dizzying sloppy wet kiss. She’s panting heavily looking at him like a crazed man. Then they both look down to see her drenched center glistening against the lantern light.

“ Inside, okay ?”, He asks. She nods.

He gently takes two fingers and pushes them inside of her, feeling her slippery release. The squelch of his fingers brings an inner warmth to her cheeks that thankfully can’t be seen. He then pulls them out and watches her intently as he sucks on them. He attempts to swipe at her clit with his thumb again but she bucks against him, shaking her head in warning. Too much.

He chuckles at her expression and looks down hungrily between her legs. He takes a moment to pull those lips apart to see the wet inside of her. She's pulsating, flashes of her climax still seizing her flesh. He pulls his hand away to grab her chin and kiss her. She groans, feeling the heat nearly return to her core from him.

“ Can you taste yourself on my tongue ?”

She nods almost dumbly. Did she have room for another orgasm?

“ I like the way you taste. If I was in a crueler mood I’d pin you to this bed and eat your cunt until you started wailing. Push you past the point of sensitivity. I’ll save it for another day.”

She’s gobsmacked. Center out and he just looks back down at her.

“ I’m just getting one last look before I go into my cabin and tug on my cock with my fingers in my mouth”, he says in the most casual tone.

She can still see a tint in pants. He begins to pull away.

“ You…you could do it here”, she pants. He pauses.

She leans forward and grabs him through his pants. His eyes closed slowly as if he was hoping she wouldn’t.

“ You said—.”

“ There are other ways, you said so yourself.”

“ Are you sure you’re ready for that ?”

“ I am.”

“ Absolutely sure ?”, he presses.

“ Yes I’m absolutely sure”, she drawls.

“Okay. If you want me to stop, just say the word.”, he slowly reached down to his pants and pulled them down to his knees. He was bare under his trousers which caused his length to pop out and hit his belly button. Her eyes widened.

The length alone was just as concerning as was the girth. She was happy to have chosen a patient man because she would need it. But it was perfect. Tawny colored, with a thick vein in the center underneath. The head was flushed and wet with his own arousal. He took off his shirt. She noticed a slight curve to it when she reached forward and pulled him towards her. His skin was hot and throbbing, twitching in her hand. It almost made her giggle with how reactive his body seemed to her touch.

She pulled her hand away, dipping her hands between her still soaked thighs and spread it onto the base of him. His head fell back, looking at the ceiling in restraint. “Christ, fuck”, he spat. She moved her hand up and down his length.

“ You can fuck my hand…”, she giggled. Something about the sentence seemed silly to her but he didn’t laugh. Instead, he eagerly took her invitation, drawing his hips back to his tip and pushing into her hand. His eyes moved back and forth, up and down her body. She licked her other palm and pressed it firmly around his base, allowing him to use both of her hands..

Truthfully she needed two hands for his length alone. He went faster, which caused the bed to shift resulting in her bouncing. Her breasts bounced up and down with each thrust which nearly sent him over the edge.

He became more eager. It was so obvious he wanted a quick release and she was happy to give that to him. She looked down to see the squelch of arousal in her hand as his cock appeared and reappeared around her fist.

She reached down carefully and cupped his balls. Roman took a fist between his teeth as she massaged them slowly. His composure broke.

“ Tell me where you want it”, he huffed, thrusting into her fist like a cunt.

“ You decide”, she grinned mischievously up at him.

He came with a grunt and settled for her stomach and breasts. His release shocked her. It was the most beautiful thing to see him come undone. It didn’t push her away, it drew her in. The way every muscle in his body seemed to get bigger, the way his stomach contracted, the way his mouth hung open, his eyes, the grunting. She loved every single moment of it. It took her a few moments to notice the wetness between her chest and on her breasts. She looked down and swiped his arousal off her nipple with her finger, placing it in her mouth. He visibly shuddered.

“ You taste really good”, she smiled up at him. He leaned down for another kiss.

She no longer needed any convincing.

————

Hey guys I’m back and feeling better. New chapter by Sunday at the latest.

#spotify #roman reigns #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns x reader #the tribal chief #wwe #wwe smackdown #pirate au #roman reigns au #the head of the table

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