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Mico Suayan - GIJoe
Cedric Poulat - GIJoe
It's pride month. Did you know that the 'G' in G.I Joe stands fo- *gets kidnapped by gnomes*

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Mutt (with Junkyard) - GI Joe (Hasbro)
Good For You || Storm Shadow
" 'Cause I just wanna look good for you."
Summary: You are your father's successor. You must learn everything before he assigns the major responsibilities to you as the new owner. But first, meet your trainer, Storm Shadow. And he will put you to the test to see if you are truly worthy of your father's position.
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, DARK, NSFW, AGE-GAP, AU, HEAVY SMUT, mature language, explicit content, jealousy, possessive, obsession, power play, taboo, forbidden attraction, erotic, mutual pining, heavy tension, degradation, markings, gagging, kissing, rough, dick slapping, first time, ownership, dirty talk, deepthroat, messy, petname, manhandling, PiV, unprotected, breeding kink, oral activities, dry humping, older man x younger woman (Legal), trainer x trainee, aftercare
The car screeched to a stop inside a wide underground compound, the kind of place that smelled like metal, oil, and blood that had long dried and been scrubbed away. Your fatherâs personal facilityâcold, quiet, and spotless.
The rhythmic sound of your heels echoed as you walked beside him, still trying to reason with the immovable man that he was.
â Dad, Iâm serious!â You huffed, adjusting your blazer that youâd purposely chosen to look uninterested.
â You canât expect me to justâŠkill people or whatever. Iâm not exactly built for that. I canât even slice a cake properly without making a mess.â
Your father didnât even glance at you.
â Then youâll learn to slice cleanly.â He replied curtly, walking with his usual unhurried steps, hands clasped behind his back.
â Youâre my daughter. You donât have the luxury of saying no.â
You groaned, throwing your hands in the air. â I could manage the companyâs paperwork or something! Maybe the tech side, or strategy, or even PR! Why does it have to beââ
â Assassination?â He interrupted dryly, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world.
â Because thatâs what this family was built on. The name we carry means control through elimination.â
â Great.â You muttered under your breath. â A family legacy of murder.â
Your father stopped walking. You bumped into his arm, muttering a soft ow, but your words died when you saw where youâd arrived.
The doors ahead hissed open with a metallic clang. A dim training hall revealed itselfâspacious, filled with rows of weapons, sparring mats, and the faint sound of soft breathing.
Then you saw him. A man in all white stood at the center of the hall, his movements fluid and deliberate as he twirled a blade, its edge catching the dull light. His face was hidden behind a white mask, his posture relaxed yet razor-sharp. When your father called out.
â Storm Shadow.â The man turned his head slightly, acknowledging the voice with a mere tilt.
The atmosphere changed. He didnât bow. Didnât smile. Didnât even move toward your father immediately. Instead, his gaze is sharp, and glacially shifted to you. For a heartbeat, the world went quiet. Even the sound of your fatherâs shoes on the floor seemed distant.
His eyes scanned you from head to toeâslow, unbothered, almost disdainful. You straightened automatically, unsure if you wanted to fight him or hide behind your father.
Your father gestured toward you. â This is my daughter. She will be your new student.â
Storm Shadow didnât answer at first. He simply lifted a hand and removed his mask in one smooth motion. You expected an old, rugged soldier to be someone graying and gruff.
You were wrong.
He was older. Yes, mid-forties perhaps, but unfairly attractive in that dangerous, carved-by-a-war sort of way. His features were sharp, symmetrical, marred only by a faint scar near his jaw that somehow made him look more dangerous, not less.
His hair, slightly disheveled, was the color of storm clouds. And those eyes are pale, focused, emotionless and pinned you in place. You blinked too many times. Unfortunately, he noticed.
â Pathetic.â He said finally, his tone as cutting as his blades.
â She trembles before training even begins.â
Your mouth dropped open. â Excuse me?!â
He smirked faintly, turning his attention back to your father. â This is the one you want me to mold? She canât even control her breathing, let alone a weapon.â
You stepped forward, hands fisted. â You think Iâm scared of you? Please. I just didnât expect you to be such an arrogantââ
â Careful.â He murmured, finally meeting your gaze again.
â Youâre shaking.â
â I am not shaking!â You snapped, even though your pulse betrayed you. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks and not entirely from anger. Damn him for noticing.
Your father sighed like a man who had seen this a thousand times. â Enough. Storm Shadow, sheâs the one. I expect you to train her as you would anyone else. She must be ready. Body and mind within six months.â
Storm Shadowâs smirk deepened, that faint ghost of amusement glinting in his eyes.
â Iâm not lenient with my students.â He warned.
â Most cry. Some donât come back. A fewâŠsurvive.â His tone darkened.
â Those who do never forget what I taught them.â
You rolled your eyes. â Wow, how inspiring. You sound like a bad motivational poster.â
His expression didnât change, but you caught the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth, almost a grin. â Youâll be my favorite then. I like it when they talk back.â
Your father turned, clearly done with the exchange. â Then itâs settled. You begin tomorrow.â
â Dadâ!â You called, but he was already walking away, hands clasped calmly as if heâd just scheduled a tea party and not your probable doom.
The doors slid shut behind him with a final thunk. You turned back to the man now leaning on his sword, arms crossed. His gaze still lingered cold, unreadable, and yet burning with some unspoken challenge.
â SoâŠâ He said quietly, voice low and almost mocking.
â Little princess. Letâs see how long before you cry.â
You glared at him. â Oh, Iâll cry, all right. At your funeral.â
His smirk sharpened, eyes glinting with something darkly amused. â Good. Youâll need that fire.â
The silence stretched is thick, electric, and unbearable. You hated the way your stomach twisted under his gaze, hated how his voice lingered in your head even after he spoke.
Tomorrow, you thought, youâd make sure he regretted underestimating you. But for now, you couldnât shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, heâd already won the first round.
âŠ
If youâd known âtrainingâ meant being publicly humiliated, slammed into the floor, and scolded like a stray puppy, you wouldâve faked a fever this morning.
Day one.
The infamous Storm Shadow stood at the center of the training hall, looking infuriatingly composed, and barefoot, all white again, sleeves rolled neatly as if he were about to host a tea ceremony, not destroy your spine. Meanwhile, you were on your fifth or maybe sixth face-first meeting with the cold, padded floor.
â Up.â His deep voice commanded, cutting through the ringing in your ears.
You groaned, spitting a loose strand of hair out of your mouth. â Youâve got to be kidding meâŠâ
â Counting your complaints wonât make you faster.â He said calmly.
â Though I admit, your resilience isâŠimpressive. You fall beautifully.â
Your head snapped up. â Did you just compliment me or insult me?â
â Both.â
You wanted to throw something at him. Preferably the sword heâd confiscated earlier for âsafety reasons.â
You staggered to your feet, glaring daggers at him. â You realize Iâm new at this, right? I donât have your assassin reflexes, or yourâŠyour weird ninja telepathy that lets you know when Iâm about to breathe!â
He tilted his head slightly, faint amusement flickering behind his calm expression. â Then stop breathing so predictably.â
â Oh, I swearââ You began, but before you could finish, he was behind you. You didnât even see him move. A sharp tug on your arm, a twist of your wrist, and you were airborneâagain.
You hit the mat with a grunt so loud it echoed. â I thinkâŠI saw my soul leave my body.â
Storm Shadow crouched beside you, expression unreadable. â At least youâre aware of where your soul is. Thatâs progress.â
â Progress?â You hissed. â My spinal cord is about to file a complaint!â
He ignored your whining, reaching out to adjust your arm position. His touch was surprisingly carefulâwarm, controlled. The proximity caught you off guard. His face was close, too close, and you could see the faint line of an old scar just below his jaw.
â Again.â He said, his voice lower now, steady but sharp.
â If this is the level youâre capable of, youâre not fit to stand where your father once stood.â
That stung more than the bruises. You blinked at him, chest rising and falling faster than you wanted him to notice. He leaned a fraction closer, the shadow of his body hovering above yours.
â Your father was the most efficient assassin this world has ever known.â He continued quietly.
â I trained under him. What Iâm giving you now is mercy compared to what he did to me.â
You swallowed hard. â You mean to tell me my dadâŠmy sweet, golf-playing, classical-music-listening dad used to beat you up for fun?â
His mouth twitched into something between a smirk and a grimace. â Not for fun. For excellence.â
You wanted to roll your eyes, but you froze instead because you finally realized how close he was. His breath brushed against your cheek, his voice low enough to vibrate against your skin.
You could see every detailâhis lashes, the faint sheen of sweat at his temple, the way his eyes flicked from your eyes down to your lips before he blinked sharply, pulling himself away.
The air crackled. You pretended not to notice the sudden silence in your chest. He stood and cleared his throat.
â The first lesson is stretching.â He said flatly, as if nothing had just happened.
You blinked. â Stretching? After youâve already dislocated half of my bones?â
He crossed his arms. â Consider it damage control.â
You sat up slowly, wincing, one hand on your sore back. â Oh, Iâm definitely telling my dad about this. He said training, not torture!â
Storm Shadow chuckled quietlyâa dark, smooth sound that made the back of your neck prickle.
â Tell him.â He said, almost mocking.
â Heâll ask me if I broke anything useful. If not, heâll tell me to try harder tomorrow.â
You froze. â Youâre joking, right?"
He raised an eyebrow. â Does this look like a joking face to you?â
â More like a face that hasnât smiled since 1995.â
That earned you another ghost of a grin. â Careful, princess. Keep that mouth running and I might start liking you less.â
â Less?â You snapped. â You liked me to begin with?"
He walked around you in a slow circle, his tone lazy but his words sharp. â You have spirit. I respect that. But a spirit without discipline is just noise.â
â Oh, you want discipline?â You shot back, standing even though your knees felt like jelly.
â Fine. Iâll give you discipline. JustâŠstop throwing me every two minutes like Iâm a damn rag doll!â
â Then stop making it so easy.â He countered, eyes gleaming with amusement as he stepped closer again.
â You hesitate before every move. You think instead of act. And when I touch youââ
He stopped, eyes locking onto yours, the tension in the air twisting tight again. â You freeze.â
Your breath hitched. â IâŠdo notââ
â Donât lie.â He murmured. â Youâre predictable.â
You glared, stepping forward until your chest almost brushed his. â Then Iâll just have to surprise you.â
For a second, his smirk faltered, his eyes narrowing in something that looked dangerously close to intrigue. â Weâll see about that.â
The training hall felt smaller now, air thick with defiance and something hotter, heavier.
You pointed a finger at him. â Tomorrow, Iâm beating you.â
He looked down at your finger, then back at your eyes. â Tomorrow, youâll crawl faster than today. Iâll call that an improvement.â
You huffed, storming past him toward the exit, muttering under your breath. â Psychopath. Pretty face. Devil incarnate. I hope your white clothes get dirty.â
Behind you, his voice followed, low and amused. â Careful, princess. Dirt builds character.â
You didnât look back, but the smirk on your face betrayed you.
âŠ
You were convinced that Storm Shadow had been invented by some vengeful god whose only purpose was to make your life miserable.
Because today, you could barely walk. Every step was a war, every breath a reminder that your body wasnât designed to bend, twist, and fall fifty times in one morning.
You limped your way into the training hall, muttering under your breath. â Heâs a monster. A demon. Aâsadistic snowman.â
The âsnowmanâ in question was already there, standing perfectly still at the center of the mat, arms folded, dressed in his usual all-white training gear. You hated how annoyingly clean he looked, as if pain just avoided him out of respect.
â Youâre late.â He said without even turning around. His voice was calmâtoo calm. The kind that always meant trouble.
You sighed. â Iâm limping. Itâs called physical injury, maybe youâve heard of it?â
He finally turned, sharp eyes scanning your awkward posture. â Good. Pain means youâre learning.â
â Pain means Iâm dying.â You shot back.
He ignored that, motioning for you to follow him toward the open space near the weapon racks. â Today, we work on discipline. Youâll do exactly what I say. No questions, no hesitation.â
â Wait, no questions?â You asked, already suspicious. â That sounds like a cult.â
â Push-ups.â He said flatly.
You blinked. â What?â
He arched his brow. â That was disobedience. Twenty-five.â
â Oh come onââ
â Fifty.â
You glared at him, jaw tight. â Youâre not serious.â
â Seventy-five.â
You wanted to throw the nearest dagger at him, but your pride refused to give him the satisfaction. â Youâre unbelievable.â
â One hundred.â
You dropped to the floor before he could say another word. â Fine!â
The first few push-ups werenât that bad. But by the twentieth, your arms trembled. By the thirtieth, your shoulders screamed. By the fiftieth, your body was ready to sign its resignation letter.
â Count louder.â He instructed, pacing slowly around you.
â Sixty-one.â You grunted. â Sixty-twoââ
â Louder.â
You glared up at him between breaths. â Youâre enjoying this.â
â Sixty-three.â He corrected coolly. â And yes.â
You groaned, finishing the last push-up before collapsing face-first onto the mat. The cool surface felt like heaven. â Iâm done. Iâm not moving. Just leave me here to rot.â
A moment later, your collar tightened as you were lifted slightly off the floor. You gasped. Storm Shadow crouched in front of you, one fist gripping the front of your training shirt.
His eyes were sharp, his voice low. â Did I tell you to lie down?â
You blinked at him. â No?â
â Then donât.â
He released you with a shove, not hard, but enough to make your pulse spike. You caught yourself, cheeks heating with a mix of anger and something you didnât want to name.
â Unbelievable.â You muttered, brushing off your shirt. â Who raised you? Wolves?â
â Myself.â He said simply, stepping back. â And thatâs why I survived.â
You hated that his tone made your stomach twist again. That quiet confidence. That discipline. It was infuriating.
â Now...â He said. â Stretching.â
You groaned loudly. â I stretched yesterday!â
â And yet youâre still walking like a broken puppet.â He replied dryly. â Clearly, we need to fix that.â
You rolled your eyes dramatically, earning a quiet sigh from him.
â Make twenty-five more push-ups after this.â He said.
Your head snapped up. â What? For eye-rolling?â
â For attitude.â
You bit your tongue, literally, to stop yourself from talking back. He noticed, of course. His faint smirk said
I win.
He demonstrated a basic stretch is smooth, controlled, graceful as always and you tried to mimic it. Tried being the keyword. Your balance faltered halfway, and you stumbled with a soft âoof,â catching yourself before you hit the ground again.
Storm Shadow exhaled through his nose, sounding almost disappointed. â Youâre forcing it.â
â Iâm trying.â
â Trying isnât enough.â
Before you could protest, he stepped behind you. You tensed immediately, feeling the faint warmth of him at your back. His hands are rough from training, steady from experience touching your arms, repositioning them gently but firmly.
â Relax your shoulders.â He instructed, voice quieter now. â Youâre locking your muscles.â
â Thatâs because youâre standing right behind me.â You muttered.
He ignored the comment but didnât move away. â Lower your stance. NoâŠlower. Like this.â
He pressed a hand to your back, guiding you down slowly until your spine stretched the way he wanted. You hissed at the pull of the motion.
â Hurts.â You said through clenched teeth.
â Good. Pain teaches alignment.â
â You have a weird obsession with pain, you know that?â
He didnât answer, but you caught the faint curve of his mouth in the mirror across the hallâa ghost of amusement. â You talk too much for someone barely surviving day two.â
â You torture too much for someone who calls this training.â You fired back.
He leaned closer to correct your arm angle again, his breath brushing your ear this time. â If you did it right the first time, I wouldnât have to.â
You froze. The air between you two thickened, almost pulsing. You could feel the warmth of him, the calm power behind every small movement.
And maybe, just maybe, he felt it too, because he suddenly stepped back, his tone clipped again. â Thatâs enough for today.â
You straightened slowly, trying to catch your breath. â What? Thatâs it?â
He turned away, grabbing a towel from the rack. â Yes. Iâd rather you be able to move tomorrow.â
You narrowed your eyes. â Wow. Look at that. A heart. Didnât know you had one.â
He glanced over his shoulder, deadpan. â Donât get sentimental. Itâs bad for training.â
You crossed your arms. â You know, for someone so cold, you talk a lot about discipline and control. Maybe you should try smiling once in a while.â
â I smile when I win.â He said simply.
â Oh?â You teased, smirking despite yourself. â And how often is that?â
He paused mid-step, looked at you with that sharp, unreadable gaze, and saidâsoftly, almost like a warning. â Always.â
Your stomach did that annoying twist again. You looked away quickly, mumbling, â Arrogant jerk.â
Behind you, his voice followedâamused, calm, and maddeningly sure. â Tomorrow. Same time. Donât limp too much, princess.â
You scowled, but couldnât stop the small, traitorous smile tugging at your lips.
âŠ
You were starting to think Storm Shadow woke up every morning asking himself one simple question: How can I make her life harder today?
Because the moment you walked into the hall on day three, there it was, his newest instrument of misery. A plain black blindfold and a wooden training stick.
He stood there like some stoic monk of pain, his white clothes pristine as ever, while you still had bruises shaped suspiciously like his hands from yesterdayâs âcorrections.â
You eyed the blindfold suspiciously. â No.â
â Yes.â
â Iâm not wearing that.â
â You are.â
â This is not training. This is some weird control kink thingââ
He cut you off with a sharp look. â Twenty-five push-ups.â
You threw your hands up. â Are you kidding me? We havenât even started!â
He crossed his arms. â Thirty.â
â Oh for the love ofâfine!â You groaned, dropping to the floor.
â Youâre unbelievable. Do you do this to all your students?â
â Only the ones who talk too much.â
You muttered something creative under your breath as you finished, your arms trembling. When you got up again, he held the blindfold out in one hand. His gaze was expectant, unreadable.
â This exercise will test your focus.â He said, tone calm but with that dark edge that always made your spine straighten.
â Youâll learn to see without sight. To anticipate whatâs coming. The body can adapt, but only if the mind is quiet.â
â My mind is quiet.â You said defensively.
He arched an eyebrow. â Your mouth isnât.â
You grumbled but snatched the blindfold from him, tying it over your eyes. Everything went black. The moment the light disappeared, you felt small, vulnerable, and okay, fineâa little nervous.
â All right.â You said warily, holding out your hands. â Now what?â
â Now.â His voice came, calm but close. â You listen.â
You froze when you heard a faint whoosh of air then a sharp sting at your thigh.
â OW!â You yelped, jumping back instinctively. â You hit me!â
â Yes.â
â Why?!â
â Because I can.â
â You sadist!â
He ignored that, his tone measured and cool. â React faster. Feel the shift in air, the vibration of the floor. Anticipate me.â
You gritted your teeth. â Anticipate thisâow!â
Another hit, this time at your calf.
â That was your fault.â He said simply.
â You just hit the leg thatâs already injured!â
â Targeting weakness. Itâs a lesson.â
â A lesson?!â
â Yes. Donât get hit.â
You groaned, clutching your leg and hopping in place. â I swear, when I can see again, Iâm throwing that stick where the sun doesnât shine.â
â Threats are useless when you canât even locate me.â His voice came from behind you now.
â Focus. Feel me.â
You spun toward the soundâtoo late. Another thwack landed on your hip, sharp enough to make you hiss.
â This is insane!â You barked. â Iâm notâow! Iâm not built for this!â
â Then adapt.â He snapped, his voice suddenly closing again.
â Youâre your fatherâs daughter. Act like it.â
That struck a nerve. You clenched your jaw, breath quickening. â Stop bringing him into this.â
â Heâs the reason youâre here.â
â And youâre the reason Iâm suffering!â
â Good. Suffering builds precision.â
â Or resentment!â
â Both are useful.â He said, almost amused.
You growled in frustration. â YouâŠareâŠthe worstâŠteacher alive!â
â Yet youâre still standing.â He countered, circling you like a predator. â Barely.â
The sound of the stick cutting through air came again, this time, you moved before it landed. You ducked, barely avoiding the blow.
â HmâŠâ He murmured. â Finally, a spark of instinct.â
You smirked under the blindfold, panting. â Told you I could do it.â
â Prove it.â
You waited. Listened. Your heartbeat was loud in your ears, but you could just make out the soft scuff of his foot against the mat. You turned toward it, reaching out, and caught the wooden stick mid-swing.
For a second, silence.
Then, your grin widened. â Ha!â
But before you could celebrate, he twisted the stick, pulling sharply. It wrapped around your leg in one swift movement, sweeping you off balance. You gasped as your body tilted backward, only to feel a sudden grip at your waist.
Strong hands. Steady. Warm. The blindfold blocked your sight, but you felt him. His chest brushing against your back, the tension in his arms holding you just inches above the mat. His breath hit your ear, low and unsteady for once.
â Careful.â He murmured.
â You fall too easily.â
You swallowed, heart hammering. â You tripped me!â
â You let me.â
â Did not.â
He chuckled quietlyâbarely audible, but the sound was dark and smooth, almost teasing. â Then I suppose gravity has a crush on you.â
â Ha. Very funny.â
He lifted you upright but didnât move his hands right away. The air between you shifted is thick, charged, and wordless. You could feel his gaze on you even through the blindfold.
Then he stepped back, his tone cool again. â Remove it.â
You pulled the blindfold off, blinking at the light. He was standing a few steps away, arms crossed, completely composed as if that entire moment hadnât just happened.
â You did better than expected.â He said finally.
You squinted. â That was your idea of a compliment, wasnât it?â
â Donât get used to it.â
You rubbed your sore leg and muttered, â I wonât.â
He glanced at you, just once, his eyes softer for half a second before his expression hardened again. â You learn fast when you stop whining.â
You smirked. â Youâre not so scary when you stop pretending to be a robot.â
â Keep talking.â He warned. â I can still add another hour of training.â
You groaned. â Youâre impossible.â
He turned toward the exit, tossing the stick onto the rack. â And youâre improving. Slowly.â
You blinked at him, caught off guard. â WasâŠthat a compliment or an insult?â
He paused at the door, glancing back with the faintest smirk. â Both.â
Then he left you thereâsore, dizzy, and maybe just a little too aware of how his hands had felt around your waist.
âŠ
You were starting to suspect that Storm Shadow had some secret vendetta against comfort, because there was no logical reason for training in the middle of a forest at dawn.
The air was cold. Your legs ached. The ground was uneven. Bugs existed. You hated all of it. And to make it worseâhe was walking ahead of you, silent as a ghost, while you tripped over every root in existence.
â Why are we here?â You groaned for the fifth time, swatting a mosquito from your face.
â Thereâs a perfectly fine training hall with, you know, no dirt and no wildlife trying to kill me.â
Storm Shadow didnât even glance back. â You talk more when youâre tired.â
â Thatâs because Iâm miserable!â
He stopped abruptly, turning to face you. The early sunlight cut through the trees, catching the edge of his mask and the pale glint in his eyes.
â You waste your breath on nonsense.â He said, voice low, controlled.
â If you put that energy into your focus, you might actually survive today.â
You frowned. â That sounds like a threat.â
â Itâs a promise.â
You crossed your arms. â You know, for someone whoâs supposed to teach me, you have the bedside manner of a serial killer.â
A faint smirk curved his lips. â Flattery wonât save you.â
You blinked. â That wasnâtââ
Thunk! Something sharp sliced through the air, missing your head by inches before embedding itself in a nearby tree. You froze, eyes wide as the blade quivered in the bark right beside your cheek.
â What theâ!â You yelped, stumbling back. Storm Shadow stood a few paces away, perfectly calm, one hand still lifted from the throw.
â Your reflexes.â He said evenly. â Pathetic.â
You stared at him in disbelief. â You almost killed me!â
â I missed on purpose.â
â That doesnât make it better!â
He stepped closer, retrieving another blade from his belt. â In your second week, youâll learn weapons. Blades, swords, stealth instruments. Tools that require finesseâŠnot fear.â
You eyed the blade warily. â Canât I just skip ahead to guns? You know, modern weapons that donât require me to play samurai?â
He tilted his head, the faintest glimmer of amusement in his eyes. â If you master the blade, you wonât need a gun.â
â Yeah, sure.â You muttered.
â Tell that to everyone who ever got shot.â
He didnât answer. Instead, he threw the swordâhandle first. You reached for it too late, and it smacked your forehead with a dull thud.
You winced, clutching your head. â Ow! Are you serious?â
â Youâre clumsy.â He said matter-of-factly.
â Iâm concussed!â
He sighed, as if your suffering personally inconvenienced him. â Pick it up.â
You glared at him but bent to grab the sword. It felt awkward in your handsâtoo heavy, too long, too dangerous. Storm Shadow, of course, looked like it belonged to him, every motion fluid and deliberate.
Before you could ask another question, he moved. A blur of white and steel rushed toward you. You barely had time to lift your sword before it clashed against his with a ringing clang. The vibration jolted through your arms, and you nearly dropped it.
â WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!â You shouted, stumbling backward.
â Testing your reflexes.â He replied calmly, striking again.
â This isnât a test, itâs an execution!â
â Youâre still alive. For now.â
You shrieked as another strike came at your side. You blocked clumsily, sparks flying where the blades met. â Youâre insane!â
He smiled faintly. â And youâre slow.â
You swung back in frustration. More out of desperation than strategy and by some miracle, your blade caught his sleeve. The sharp fabric-tearing sound made both of you freeze.
You looked down, wide-eyed. A clean slice cut across his pristine white uniform. ââŠOh no.â
Storm Shadow glanced at the tear, then at you. The faintest twitch appeared at the corner of his mouth is something between amusement and danger. He shook his head slowly.
â I see.â He murmured.
â You can hit something after all.â
You opened your mouth to apologize or maybe to gloat, but he lunged forward before you could. His strikes were faster now, sharper, and deliberate.
You barely had time to react before he had you pinned againâsword locked against yours, his body pressing you back until your shoulders hit the rough bark of a tree.
You gasped, the air catching in your throat. His face was inches from yours, breath steady while yours came in ragged bursts.
â Not bad.â He said quietly, eyes flicking briefly to the torn edge of his sleeve.
â For someone who started as dead weight.â
â Gee, thanks.â You managed to say, voice dripping sarcasm.
â Iâll add that to my list of compliments from psychopaths.â
He actually laughedâlow and quiet, almost genuine. â Careful. I might start thinking youâre worth the effort.â
You were about to shoot back some witty insult, but the way his gaze lingered on youâintense, and unreadable that made the words stick in your throat.
His eyes flicked to your lips for half a heartbeat, before he tore them away and stepped back. And then, without warning, he hooked your arm, twisted, and swept your legs. You hit the dirt with a thud that stole your breath.
â OW! What was that for?!â You shouted, clutching your side.
He looked down at you, calm as ever. â Overconfidence. Consider it corrected.â
You glared up at him, panting. â YouâreâŠYouâre impossible! You praise me, then you throw me into the ground!â
â Thatâs balance.â
â Thatâs psychotic!â
He crouched beside you, eyes gleaming with faint amusement. â Youâre improving.â
You blinked. â How is this improvement?â
â You didnât cry.â
You glared harder. â Give me five seconds, and I might.â
He smirked faintly, standing and offering you a hand. You hesitated then took it, grumbling under your breath. His grip was firm, pulling you up effortlessly.
â Youâve got potential.â He said finally, voice quieter now.
â Somewhere buried beneath all that noise.â
You raised an eyebrow. â Is that your weird way of saying Iâm not hopeless?â
â Donât get ahead of yourself.â
He turned, adjusting the strap on his torn sleeve, that faint grin still tugging at his lips. â Tomorrow, we start with blades again. Try not to stab yourself before then.â
You huffed. â No promises.â
He walked ahead, the sunlight catching on his hair, and you found yourself watching longer than you meant to.
â Hey!â You called after him.
â You owe me for the head bruise!â
â Consider it a lesson.â He called back without turning.
You crossed your arms, muttering under your breath. â Sadist.â
A beat of silence, and then his voice, distant but amused, floated back through the trees.
â Still standing, arenât you, princess?â
You rolled your eyes, but couldnât stop the small smirk that crept onto your face.
âŠ
By the time your twentieth day of training came around, your body was a walking collection of bruises, bandages, and regrets. Youâd officially lost count of how many times youâd hit the ground, bled, or been insulted by Storm Shadow in the span of a single breath.
You couldnât even look in the mirror without wincing. There was a yellowing bruise on your jaw, a thin cut across your forearm, and a whole symphony of muscle pain that made just existing an Olympic sport.
You swore that if your dad saw you right now, heâd either faint or give Storm Shadow a bonus.
So when you woke up that morning, the memory of yesterdayâs âendurance exerciseâ (which was basically him throwing you off balance repeatedly until you stopped complaining) was still fresh enough to make you limp. You told yourself that today, youâd at least beat him to the training hall.
If there was one thing Storm Shadow hated more than you talking, it was you being early. Thatâs exactly why you did it. You grinned to yourself as you stepped through the training hall doors before sunrise. The air was crisp, silent, and filled with that faint scent of metal and wood polish.
For once, you were the first one hereâno taunting voice, no sarcastic remarks, no psychotic âwarm-upâ involving pain.
You actually sighed in relief. â Ah, peace. Finally.â
That peace lasted a total of five seconds. Because someone was already standing at the far end of the hall. He had his back to you, tall and straight, wearing a black training uniform that immediately told you one thingâhe wasnât Storm Shadow. The man youâd been stuck with for the past three weeks only wore white. Like some tragic snow demon.
You blinked. â WaitâŠyouâre not him.â
The stranger turned slightly, his tone calm but sharp as he said, â Master Storm Shadow canât attend your session today. He has an important mission.â
You froze. Master?
You stepped closer, curious. The man turned fully to face you, and you nearly forgot how to breathe.
He wasâŠwell, unfairly handsome. Sharper features than Storm Shadow, eyes a warm amber that somehow looked both kind and terrifying. His black hair was tied back loosely, a few strands framing his face.
â Nameâs Seong-cho.â He said with a small nod.
â Former student of your master. Iâll be substituting for him today.â
You blinked twice. Then grinned. â WaitâŠyou mean Storm Shadow isnât coming?â
He raised an eyebrow. â You sound a little too happy about that.â
You threw your arms in the air dramatically. â Because the universe finally decided to give me a break! No more yelling, no more being thrown to the ground like a sack of riceâthank every deity above!â
A small, amused smile tugged at Seong-choâs lips. â You do realize heâs going to hear that later, right?â
You froze mid-celebration. â What?â
He tilted his head. â He asked me to record todayâs session. To evaluate yourâŠprogress.â
You stared at him in horror. â Youâre joking.â
Seong-cho chuckled softly. â I donât joke.â
You groaned, dragging your hands down your face. â Unbelievable. I canât even badmouth him in peace.â
â Storm Shadow has that effect.â Seong-cho said, folding his arms.
â But donât worry, Iâm not nearly as cruel as he is.â
You squinted at him. â That sounds like something he would say right before kicking me into a wall.â
â I said nearly.â Seong-cho corrected with a calm smile.
â He did ask me to continue your conditioning, though. I canât go easy on you.â
You sighed dramatically. â Of course he did.â
â Come on.â He said, walking past you toward the center of the hall.
â Youâre twenty days inâyou should be able to handle a substitute.â
You followed reluctantly, muttering under your breath, â Handle, sure. Survive? Questionable.â
He glanced at you sideways. â You really do talk a lot.â
â Itâs a coping mechanism.â You shot back.
â Keeps me from screaming.â
Seong-cho laughed quietlyâa real laugh, not the sarcastic snort Storm Shadow gave whenever you annoyed him. It was oddlyâŠcomforting.
â I see why he likes training you.â He said with faint amusement.
You blinked. â Likes? He hates me!â
â Oh, no.â Seong-cho said, shaking his head.
â If he hated you, he wouldnât bother.â
That stopped you for a second. The idea that Storm Shadow didnât hate you was absurdâŠright? He literally laughed while you cried in pain yesterday.
Still, you muttered under your breath, â Couldâve fooled me.â
Seong-cho motioned for you to stand in front of him. â Alright, letâs see what heâs been teaching you.â
You groaned. â Do we have to?â
â Would you rather he hears you refused?â
You straightened instantly. â Nope. Letâs train.â
He grinned faintly. â Good answer.â
You went through the first few drillsâbasic stances, hand-to-hand blocks, and some blade work. Unlike Storm Shadow, Seong-cho actually explained things before demonstrating. He didnât just expect you to figure it out mid-fight. It was weirdlyâŠhumane.
â Youâve improved.â He noted after a few sequences.
â But your right stance still collapses when you turn. Heâd have smacked your leg for that.â
â Yeah, well.â You grunted, adjusting your posture, â I donât miss being smacked.â
Seong-cho smirked. â He calls it reinforcement.â
â He calls pain reinforcement.â You muttered.
The session continued. Seong-choâs movements were sharp, controlled, almost elegant compared to Storm Shadowâs relentless brutality. You could tell he was trained by the same man, but with a little more patience and humor.
At one point, after you tripped over your own foot (again), Seong-cho offered you a hand. â Are you always this dramatic when you fall?â
â Yes.â You groaned, taking his hand. â Gravity and I have a complicated relationship.â
He chuckled, helping you up. â Remind me to tell him that. Heâll love it.â
â Please donât.â You begged, rubbing your shoulder.
â Heâll turn it into another training method.â
Seong-cho gave you a sly look. â Maybe thatâs not a bad thing.â
You glared. â Youâre enjoying this, arenât you?â
He shrugged lightly. â Just a little. Youâre entertaining.â
You rolled your eyes, but a reluctant smile crept onto your face. â Great. Glad my sufferingâs so amusing.â
He chuckled. â Youâre tougher than you think, you know.â
You glanced up at him, surprised by the sincerity in his tone.
He smiled faintly, tapping the hilt of your sword. â Storm Shadow doesnât waste his time. If heâs pushing you this hard, itâs because he knows youâll survive it.â
You frowned, unsure what to say to that.
â Donât tell him I said that.â Seong-cho added with a wink.
â Heâll deny it.â
You huffed a small laugh. â Donât worry. Iâd rather die than give him that satisfaction.â
He grinned. â Careful what you wish for. He might take it literally.â
You groaned. â Dark humor. Great. You are his student.â
Seong-cho chuckled again, stepping back as he gestured for you to prepare for another round. â Then prove it. Show me what heâs taught you.â
You sighed, raising your sword. â Fine. But if I die, youâre explaining it to him.â
â Iâll tell him you finally listened.â Seong-cho said, smiling faintly.
â Heâll be proud.â
You snorted. â Yeah, right.â
The two of you circled each other, blades ready. Somewhere deep inside your bruised, aching body, you couldnât help but thinkâthis was the first time you actually enjoyed training.
Even if Storm Shadow was going to kill you later for saying that.
âŠ
By the twenty-first day, you were starting to believe Seong-cho was heavenâs apology for everything Storm Shadow had ever done to you. Unlike your sadist of a master, Seong-cho didnât throw you across the room for breathing wrong.
He didnât insult your reflexes or mock your form. No, he smiled, encouraged you, and occasionally flirted like a man who knew exactly how to make your ears turn red.
Which, unfortunately, he did. Frequently. You were in the middle of sparring with him that morning, swords clashing rhythmically as sunlight streamed into the hall. It was strange how peaceful it felt to train without being called a âpathetic liability.â
â Youâve improved.â Seong-cho said between strikes, the corners of his mouth twitching upward.
â If I didnât know better, Iâd think you actually practiced.â
You swung at him with a huff. â If I didnât know better, Iâd think you actually complimented me.â
He laughed softly, easily blocking your swing. â Careful. I might start.â
â Donât threaten me with a good time.â
He tilted his head, feigning offense. â Flirting and fighting? Dangerous combination.â
You rolled your eyes, though you could feel the heat creeping up your neck. â Youâre not as charming as you think you are.â
â Oh, I think I am.â He replied, grinning. â Your face just confirmed it.â
You groaned. â Youâre worse than your master, you know that?â
He chuckled, twirling his sword lazily. â If thatâs an insult, Iâll take it as a compliment.â
The sparring intensified. Seong-choâs movements were precise, graceful, almost playfulâso different from Storm Shadowâs cold efficiency. You moved quicker, more confident, and with one well-timed feint, you finally managed to knock his sword out of his hand.
It clattered across the floor.
You blinked, realizing what youâd just done. Then grinned. â IâŠwait, did I just win?â
Seong-cho blinked in mild surprise, then gave you a slow, proud nod. â You did.â
For the first time since training began, you actually laughedâloud and triumphant. â Finally! I beat someone in this cursed dojo!â
Seong-cho chuckled, lying back dramatically with his arms spread. â Fine, fine. You win. Whatâs my punishment, oh victorious warrior?â
â Oh, donât tempt me.â You teased, stepping over him.
You playfully lifted your fist like you were about to punch him. â Maybe I should make you do my push-ups for the week.â
He smirked, eyes glinting. â I might agree to that if you ask nicely.â
You scoffed. â Flirt later. Right nowââ
Before you could finish, something jerked your collar from behind. You let out a startled yelp as you were hauled backward and nearly lost your balance. Your hand flew to your throat, eyes wide as you turnedâ
And froze. Storm Shadow stood there. Silent. Unamused. His grip on your collar was tight, his expression unreadable except for that faint, unmistakable chill of displeasure.
Your stomach dropped. â Wâwhat the hell?! You canât just grab people like that!â
He ignored your protest entirely, still holding you upright like a misbehaving cadet. His gaze shifted briefly toward Seong-cho, who had quickly scrambled to his feet and bowed deeply.
â Master.â Seong-cho greeted, his tone suddenly formal.
â Youâre back earlier than expected.â
â I can see that.â Storm Shadow replied coolly, eyes narrowing at the scene before him.
â And I can also see my training hall being used forâŠentertainment.â
You blinked, confused. â Entertainment? We were training!â
His gaze snapped to youâsharp enough to cut through steel. â You were straddling my student.â
You gawked. â What?! ThatâsâŠokay, thatâs technically true, butââ
â No explanation can justify that position.â He said flatly.
â Are you serious right now?!â
â Yes.â He said without hesitation.
You looked helplessly toward Seong-cho, who raised his hands slightly, looking caught between defending you and not wanting to die. â It was just sparring, Master. She defeated me fair and square.â
Storm Shadowâs voice was calm. Too calm. â Then her first victory was won in the most inappropriate posture imaginable.â
You opened your mouth to argue, but Seong-cho quickly interjected, bowing lower. â Apologies, Master. I take full responsibility. Iâll accept any punishment.â
Storm Shadowâs eyes flicked to him. â You will.â
You frowned. â WaitâŠwhat? He didnât do anything wrong!â
â Silence.â Storm Shadow ordered, the tone sharp enough to make you stop mid-word.
â Discipline must be maintained.â
Seong-cho nodded silently. â Understood, Master.â
â Dismissed.â Storm Shadow said curtly.
The younger man turned toward you, managing a faint, reassuring smile before bowing once more. â It was an honor training with you.â
You frowned. â Wait, Seong-cho, donât justââ
But he was already gone, footsteps fading down the corridor. The moment he left, Storm Shadow released your collarâonly to shove you lightly in the shoulder, forcing you a step back.
You glared at him, rubbing your neck. â What is wrong with you?!â
His expression didnât change. â Whatâs wrong is that you think this is a playground.â
â Oh, donât you start with that againââ
â You were flirting during combat.â He cut in sharply.
â I was not!â
â You were smiling.â
â So what, smiling is illegal now?!â
â In my hall, yes.â He said darkly.
You threw your hands up. â Youâre unbelievable! I was training! I actually won! Shouldnât you be happy that Iâm not completely useless anymore?â
He stepped closer, voice low and tight. â You think Iâd be impressed by your childish display?â
You blinked, taken aback by the venom in his tone. â Why are you so mad? Because I beat your student? Because I smiled?â
He leaned in, his face unreadable, but there was something behind his eyes. Something tense. Hot. Controlled.
â Because you let someone else touch whatâs mine to train.â He said coldly.
You froze. â Excuse me?â
He exhaled sharply, stepping back before you could speak again. â Next time, keep your focus. You mix training with emotion, you die. And worse, you waste my time.â
Your jaw tightened. â Youâre acting jealous.â
He gave you a hard stare. â Jealousy is for the undisciplined.â
â Sure it is.â You said, crossing your arms. â Thatâs why you looked ready to throw Seong-cho into orbit.â
His eyes narrowed slightly. â Careful.â
â Why? Afraid Iâll call you out on it?â
His silence said everything.
He turned away, his voice back to that icy calm. â Ten laps. Now. Maybe the pain will remind you to think before acting like a fool again.â
You groaned loudly. â Youâre impossible!â
He glanced over his shoulder, the faintest smirk ghosting across his lips. â And youâre still talking.â
You gawked at him. â Youâre adding laps, arenât you?â
â Twelve.â He said flatly.
â Unbelievable!â
â Fourteen.â
â I hate you!â
â Sixteen.â
â Shibal!â
He turned fully, arms crossed, that stoic mask still perfectly in place. But under it, just barely, you swore you saw the corner of his mouth twitch.
Almost a smile. Almost.
You groaned, stomping toward the track, muttering curses under your breath. And as you started your first lap, you could feel his gaze on you the whole timeâsharp, heavy, unreadable. Somehow, you couldnât tell if it was irritation or something else entirely.
âŠ
The dim flicker of the training room hall cast long shadows over the cracked pavement, where you'd pushed him too far with your taunts.
" You wouldn't dare." you'd sneered, eyes flashing with that bratty defiance that always got under his skin.
But he was done playing. His jealousy had simmered all nightâwatching you flirt with that idiot at the training, your training uniform hugging your curves like a goddamn invitation.
Now, pinned against the cold brick wall behind the abandoned warehouse, the heavy tension between you snapped like a taut wire.
" You think you can challenge me, little brat?" He growled, his voice low and possessive, eyes dark with a mix of rage and hunger.
His handsâstrong, calloused from years of whatever rough life he'd led gripped the collar of your uniform blouse.
With a swift, brutal yank, the fabric tore open, buttons scattering like confetti into the night. The cool air hits your skin, making your nipples harden instantly under your bra.
" Hey! That's my uniform, you asshole!" You protested, half-laughing, half-furious, your voice laced with that bickering you two always fell into.
But there was no mistaking the sexual tension crackling in the air, thick and electric. Your heart pounded, a mix of fear and thrill at his dominance. He smirked, that arrogant tilt to his lips that made you want to slap him or kiss him.
" You won't need it anyway, princess. Not where we're going." His words were degrading, dripping with dirty talk that sent a shiver down your spine.
He shoved the remnants of your blouse aside, his mouth crashing down on yours in a possessive kiss, claiming you like you were his property. You fought back at first, nipping at his lip, but he tamed you with a hard bite to your neck, marking you with his teeth.
Breaking away, he trailed his lips lower, dragging them over your collarbone, down to your heaving chest.
He paused at your stomach, nuzzling the soft skin there, inhaling deeply as if savoring your scent. Then, without warning, he dropped to his knees, pushing your skirt up roughly. His hot breath ghosted over your thighs, finally reaching your sensitive spot, still hidden beneath your panties.
You arched your back against the wall, a gasp escaping your lips. " WaitâŠsomeone might see us! This is crazy, we're out in the open!"
He looked up at you, eyes gleaming with dark amusement, that smirk widening. " I don't give a fuck if they see you like this, writhing like a desperate little thing for me."
His voice was a low rumble, possessive jealousy lacing every word. " Let them watch. Let them know you're mine."
Before you could argue, his fingers hooked into your underwear. With another tear, fabric ripping easily under his strengthâhe exposed you completely. You whimpered, the sound half-protest, half-need, your body betraying you as heat pooled between your legs.
" Fuck, look at you..." He murmured, his tone shifting to something almost worshipful as he stared at your glistening folds. But the degradation wasn't far behind.
" Such a pretty little virgin cunt, all wet and begging." He dove in without mercy, his tongue devouring you like a starving man.
He licked and sucked, teasing your clit with expert flicks that made your moans grow louder, echoing off the alley walls. You tried to stifle them, biting your lip, but he was relentless, his stubble scraping your inner thighs.
As he ate you out, his eyes locked on yours, that intense gaze making it feel like he was worshipping at an altarâyours. But there was no gentleness in it; this was dominance, pure and raw.
He slid two thick, calloused fingers inside you, stretching you suddenly. The intrusion made you moan loudly, tears pricking your eyes from the mix of pain and pleasure.
He pumped them once, twice, then pulled out, holding them up to the light. A smear of blood stained his skin, evidence of your innocence broken.
He laughed, a dark, throaty sound that sent chills through you then smudged the blood back onto your cunt, rubbing it in like a claim. " Filthy little princess, huh? Bleeding all over my fingers."
" It's...it's my first time." You stammered, voice trembling, a blush heating your cheeks despite everything.
He grinned wickedly, licking his lips. " I know, baby. I could smell it on youâŠthe sweet tang of untouched pussy."
Without another word, he plunged his fingers back in, no mercy this time. He curled them deep, hitting that spot that made stars burst behind your eyelids, thrusting at a brutal, high speed. You squirmed against the wall, hips bucking involuntarily, your body on fire.
All the while, his mouth never left you. He sucked harder on your clit, tongue swirling in filthy patterns, devouring every drop of your arousal.
" That's it, brat. Take it like how good girl you are." He mumbled against your skin, vibrations sending you higher.
Your hands flew to his hair, clutching desperately, pulling him deeper into your cunt as if you could fuse him there. The tension built, heavy and dark, your moans turning to cries.
" Oh godâŠpleaseâfuck!" You shattered, climax crashing over you like a wave, your release flooding his mouth.
He drank it down greedily, fingers still pumping through your spasms, drawing out every last quiver until you were a trembling mess.
He pulled back finally, lips shiny with you, that possessive smirk firmly in place. " Good girl. Now, let's see how much more you can take."
âŠ
You slumped against the cold brick wall, legs still trembling from the aftershocks of your climax, the alley's dim light painting everything in harsh shadows. Cum and blood mingled between your thighs, a sticky reminder of Storm Shadow's ruthless dominance.
You thought he was done. His smirk suggested satisfaction, his breathing heavy but controlled. But oh, how wrong you were.
The ninja's eyes, dark and possessive, raked over you like you were his conquest, jealousy still simmering from earlier. That flirtation while training with Seong-cho? It had ignited this storm, and he wasn't about to let it fizzle out.
" Get up." He commanded, yanking you to your feet by your arm.
His grip was bruising, but the tension hummed between you, thick and electric, laced with that heavy, dark edge that made your pulse race. You wobbled, your torn uniform hanging off your shoulders like rags.
" Wait, what? You're not seriouslyâ" You started, your voice a mix of bratty complaint and comedic exasperation, the bickering flaring up again.
" I can barely stand, you brute!"
He cut you off with a low growl, his hand fisting in your hair to tilt your head back.
" Complain again, and you'll receive another punishment, little brat. Now, undress me." His tone was dominant, possessive, dripping with dirty promise.
" You've been teasing me...time to pay up."
You swallowed hard, throat dry, a whimper escaping as you eyed his imposing form. Storm Shadow, your trainer, the silent storm of muscle and lethality.
Fine, you'd play alongâfor now. Your hands trembled as you reached for his black tactical uniform, fingers fumbling with the zipper.
" This is ridiculous." You muttered, biting your lip to stifle a nervous laugh.
" What if someone walks by? You're insane."
He chuckled darkly, watching you with that smug smirk, liking how you squirmed. " Keep talking back, and I'll make sure they hear you scream my name."
As you peeled the fabric away, revealing inch after inch of sculpted abs, hard ridges carved from endless trainingâyou couldn't help but whimper. His muscles flexed under your touch, a testament to his power, and heat flooded your cheeks.
" Fuck, you're...built like a god." You admitted, voice breathy, the words slipping out before you could stop them.
His smirk widened, eyes gleaming with satisfaction. " Like what you see, princess? Good. Worship it."
He grabbed your hair harder, forcing you down to your knees on the gritty pavement. The rough texture bit into your skin, adding to the dark thrill.
" IâI don't know how." You protested, looking up at him with wide eyes, that bratty edge creeping back.
" You're my trainer, after all. Aren't you supposed to teach me?"
" Oh, I'll teach you." He promised, voice rough with jealousy-fueled possession.
" And you'll learn to take every inch like the greedy whore you are."
Your hands shook as you tugged at his pants, sliding them down his powerful thighs. You gasped when his bulge strained against his boxers, massive and throbbing, a dark wet spot blooming at the tipâproof of how achingly hard you'd made him.
" Slow down, princess." He mocked, but his breath hitched as you hooked your fingers into the waistband.
You pulled them down slowly, teasing despite yourself, and his length sprang free, slapping against his chiseled abdomen with a heavy thud.
It was thick, veined, intimidatingâcurving slightly and already leaking precum. Before you could react, his free hand captured yours, wrapping it around his shaft.
" Stroke it." He ordered, guiding your movements up and down the hot, velvety skin.
He groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating through you. " Fuck, your small hand feels so goodâŠtighten it, brat."
You obeyed, pumping him tentatively, feeling him pulse under your palm. But he wasn't patient.
" Suck me. Now."
" No way, that'sâ" You complained, shaking your head, but he silenced you with a swift slap of his cock against your cheek, the wet smack echoing in the alley.
You groaned in annoyance, glaring up at him. " Asshole!"
" Open wide, or I'll make you." He threatened, his dirty talk sending shivers down your spine. Reluctantly, you parted your lips, tasting the salty tip as you took him in.
He hissed, " No teeth, or I'll punish that mouth harder."
You sucked tentatively at first, tongue swirling around the head, exploring the ridges. He let you set the pace for a moment, groaning appreciatively, but soon his dominance took over.
" Deeper." He demanded, pushing your head forward. You choked as he filled your mouth, throat constricting around his girth.
" That's it, choke on my cock like the filthy trainee you are." He grew rough, hips thrusting as he face-fucked you, hand tangled in your hair to control the rhythm.
Tears streamed down your face, mixing with saliva, but the dark pleasure builtâthe way he owned you, possessive and unyielding.
" You flirted with that fool to make me jealous? Now swallow every drop as punishment."
Your moans vibrated around him, hands gripping his thighs for balance as he plunged deeper, faster. The training hall spun with the tension, your body aching anew.
Finally, with a guttural roar, he cameâhot spurts shooting straight down your throat. You swallowed what you could, gagging, but he pulled out midway, the rest painting your face in sticky ropes.
He smirked, using his still-hard cock to smudge it across your cheeks, lips, chin like marking his territory. " Look at you, covered in my cum. Mine."
He tilted your chin up, eyes dark with satisfaction. " Lesson one complete. Ready for more, brat?"
âŠ
You knelt there on the gritty alley floor, face sticky with his release, the metallic tang of him lingering on your tongue. Storm Shadow's chest heaved, his possessive gaze locked on you like you were a prize he'd just claimed. But the dark hunger in his eyes said he wasn't finished, not by a long shot.
The tension hung in the air, thick with sexual charge, your body still buzzing from the earlier climax he'd wrung from you. Jealousy fueled his every move; that training with flirtation had pushed him over the edge, and now you were paying the price in the most deliciously brutal way.
He reached down, hauling you up by your arms with effortless strength. Before you could catch your breath, he shoved you back against the wall, pinning you there with his bodyâhard muscle pressing into your softness.
" Think you're done, brat?" He growled, voice low and dominant, laced with that smug amusement that always sparked your bickering.
You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, glaring up at him through tear-streaked lashes. " What, you want a medal for that? I'm not your damn toy, Storm."
But your words lacked bite, undercut by the whimper that escaped as his lips found your neck. He nibbled the sensitive skin, sucking hard enough to leave marksâpossessive brands that screamed 'mine.'
" Fuck!" You moaned, arching into him despite yourself, hands fisting in his hair.
Here you were, half-naked in a training hall, getting devoured by your ninja trainer like some forbidden fantasy. But the tension was real, dark and electric, your heart pounding with a mix of fear and need.
He chuckled against your throat, the vibration sending shivers down your spine. One hand gripped his length, still hard and slick from your mouth, fisting himself slowly as he ground against you.
" Keep moaning like that, princess. It's music to my ears."
You bit your lip, trying to regain some bratty composure. " I'm...I'm still a virgin, you know. And if my dad finds outâŠgod, he'll go feral. His precious daughter getting fucked by her trainer? He'll kill you."
Storm Shadow pulled back slightly, his dark eyes gleaming with jealous triumph.
" Untouched, huh? Even better. Means I'm the first to ruin this tight little cunt." He teased you with his tip, sliding it through your soaking folds, the blunt head nudging your entrance subtly, just enough to make you gasp.
The degradation in his voice was filthy, intoxicating. " And your dad? He won't know shit unless you open that pretty mouth and spill how I fucked you raw, filled you up like the breeding good girl you are."
You whimpered, hips bucking involuntarily as he whispered more dirty words in your earâpromises of how he'd stretch you, break you, own you.
" You asshole." You glared, but he just laughed, that deep, mocking sound that tamed your defiance while stoking the fire between you.
" Keep glaring, princess. It only makes me harder." He positioned himself, the tip pushing insistently now.
" Dad's little girl, huh? Bet he'd love knowing how wet you are for me."
You gasped as he slowly entered you, inch by agonizing inch, his size splitting you open. Pain mingled with pleasure, your walls clenching around him. " It hurtsâslow down!"
" Shh, I've got you." He murmured, a rare flicker of assurance breaking through his dominance. But it was fleeting; he claimed your mouth in a rough kiss, tongue invading as he sank deeper, swallowing your cries.
The kiss was possessive, bruising, his jealousy pouring into every stroke of his lips. Finally bottomed out, he stilled, buried to the hilt, letting your body adjust.
You felt so full, stretched beyond belief, tears pricking your eyes. " Too big...fuck, Storm."
" Good girl." He praised, but his voice dripped with degradation.
" Taking your trainer's cock like a champ. Now, wrap those legs around me." He lifted you effortlessly, your back scraping the wall as you hooked your ankles behind his waist.
The new angle let him hit deeper, and he started fucking youâhard, sharp thrusts that slammed into you with brutal precision.
You scratched his back, nails digging into his muscles, drawing blood as you moaned uncontrollably. " Oh godâŠyesâŠharder, you bastard!"
He tamed you with each pound, his possessive growls filling the air. " Mine. All fucking mine. No one else touches this pussy."
The dark alley faded, the world narrowing to the slap of skin, your whimpers, his dirty talk. " Gonna breed you, brat. Fill you with my seed until you're dripping. Bet you'd look so good swollen with my kidâŠyour dad would really lose it then."
You climaxed first, shattering around him with a scream, walls milking his length. But he didn't stop, thrusting through your spasms, rough and unrelenting.
" That's it, cum on my cock like the brat you are."
Finally, with a feral groan, he cameâhot ropes coating your womb, breeding you deep as promised.
He held you there, pulsing inside, smirking smugly as he kissed you, slow and claiming. " Good little trainee. Now, you're truly mine."
âŠ
You clung to him, legs still wrapped around his waist, the wall digging into your back as your breaths mingled in the dim light of the training hall. Storm Shadow had claimed you fully, his seed warm and coating your insides, a possessive mark that made your body hum with aftershocks.
Less than ten minutes had passed since his climax, but he finally stirred, slowly pulling out with a wet, obscene slide. Juicesâhis cum mixed with your arousal and the faint trace of blood oozed from your hole, dripping down your thighs in sticky trails.
" Fuck, look at that mess." He murmured, voice thick with degradation, his dark eyes fixed on your exposed core.
He scooped some up with two fingers, the action filthy and unapologetic, then brought them to your lips. " Taste us, princess. See what a good little slut you are."
You wrinkled your nose, that bratty fire flaring up in comedic protest. " Ew, no way! That's gross, StormâŠyou're such a pervert!"
But his glare silenced you, those piercing eyes promising more taming if you resisted. Swallowing your pride, you parted your lips and sucked his fingers clean, tongue swirling around the salty, musky flavor. He groaned low, the sound vibrating through his chest, his semi-hard length twitching against your thigh.
" Good girl." He praised, but it dripped with possession.
He grabbed his cock, smudging the remaining juices over your sensitive folds, the head playfully dipping into your entranceâjust enough to tease, to make you whimper and clench around nothing.
" You think Seong-cho could ever do this to you, hmm?" He taunted, jealousy lacing his words like venom.
" That bastard will never lay a hand on you. You're mineâmy tight little virgin hole, bred and ruined by me." His dirty talk was possessive, degrading, stoking the fire of his earlier rage from watching you flirt.
" Shut up." You snapped back, half-laughing through the bickering, but your voice wavered with need.
" You're just jealous because he actually talks to me like a person, not some conquest."
He gripped your ass hard, fingers digging into the flesh, then delivered a sharp slap that echoed in the empty hall. You whimpered, the sting blooming into pleasure, your glare meeting his smug grin.
" Keep sassing, and I'll spank this ass red."
Reluctantly, he set you down, your legs wobbling like jelly. He walked away, his naked form a sculpted shadow under the training hall low lights, rummaging in a secret container hidden behind a panelâstocked with spare gear, apparently his little secret. He grabbed a cloth, wiping himself first with casual efficiency, then returned to you.
" Spread 'em." He ordered, kneeling to clean you up gently, almost tenderly, but his proud, smug grin ruined the moment.
" Look at you, all fucked out and dripping my cum. Proud of you, traineeâtook it like a champ."
You glared daggers at him, crossing your arms over your chest. " Oh, please. You're the one who couldn't control himself. Caveman much?"
He chuckled darkly, finishing the cleanup before fetching a new training uniform from the container, crisp gi pants and top, identical to your torn one.
" Arms up." He insisted, dressing you himself, his hands lingering possessively.
As he slid the fabric over your skin, he whispered filthy words in your ear. " Next time, I'll bend you over the mats, fuck you until you scream my name. Bet you'd beg for it, you dirty little whore."
You blushed furiously, stammering responses that were half-protests, half-teasing. " Y-you're impossible...but yeah, maybe I will."
He dressed quickly, pulling on his own uniform with fluid grace, then yanked you close for a kissâdeep, claiming, his teeth nipping your lip hard enough to draw a bead of blood.
" Mine." He growled against your mouth.
You both froze as the sliding door hissed open, flooding the hall with hallway light. Your dad stepped in, his stern face scanning the room. " Storm Shadow? I came for an update on her progress. How's my daughter shaping up in training?"
You pulled away hastily, heart hammering, biting your lip to hide the swell from his bite. Storm straightened, confident as ever, but his words were laced with double meanings only you caught.
" She's coming along nicely, sir. Responsive to commands, takes every thrustâŠer, lesson with enthusiasm. A bit bratty at first, but I've tamed her edges. She's opening up beautifully under my guidance."
Your dad's nod was oblivious. " Good to hear. Keep pushing her hard."
You blushed crimson, biting your lip harder, the tension coiling tight as Storm's eyes flicked to you with a possessive wink. The dark thrill of the secret made your core clenchâjealousy sated, for now.
Author's Note:
Hello, guys. I'm back again. As usual, I'm uploading another freaky one-shot story, and the character this time is Storm Shadow, yey! I remembered someone requested it, which was a good idea, so I made it haha. I haven't seen the movie yet, but I hope to when I'm not too busy.
Anyways, enjoy reading! đ«¶đ»
What's next? Smut, fluff or Angst? đ€
Relationship headcanons | Storm Shadow
Hi! I have to confess, I fell. FELL IN LOVE. Those TikTok edits hello? đ So today I've watched g.i. joe and.... Yeah it's ... Not a bad movie... Not good either tho đ but storm shadow guysss
Anyways this is probably ooc but listen. Its the TikTok editors fault ok.
- Nobody will ever be able to touch a hair on your head, thanks to him.
- It'll be very hard for him to accept that you have male friends. He's a very jealous man, but he wont speak his jealousy out loud. You can tell when he's jealous though. He gets pouty. It'd be cute if he wasn't intimidating your friends.
- After a lot of reassurance, he promises he won't kill them. That doesn't mean he'll stop being jealous though. Quite the opposite, actually.
- Gentleman to the core. Even if you're a fighter yourself, he'll treat you with respect- holding the door, pulling your chair, bringing you flowers,... You can see the genuine effort in his eyes whenever he does these gestures. It's refreshing after a myriad of failed relationships. He's a romantic at heart.
- As a ninja and fighter, he'd struggle with sleeping around people. It'd take a great deal of trust for him to fall asleep next to you. Don't take it the wrong way, though. He wishes he could give you the same amount of trust you have given him. You'll just have to give him a bit more time.
- Once it happens, though it's like night and day change. He goes from a straight and taut as a plank cuddle buddy who puts his arm around you almost robotically to a cobra snake curling around its prey. Just a lot more lovable cobra snake.
- Don't worry, though, if you wake up he's soon to follow, no matter the occasion.
- Need to pee, but there's a muscular 5'8" man hugging you to death in your bed? Don't worry! Move around a bit, and he's up in a jiffy... Seriously though, he's a very light sleeper.
- After dealing with that issue of yours, you can expect to go back to your toasty little heaven with your man.
- Trust is a big deal to him. Once he trusts you, he's willing to do anything for you. And expects the same from you. Don't break it, he sure never will.
- If you're also a fighter like him, expect to be training with him. Even if you're not, you'll still end up training with him. He wants to be sure that in the rare moments he can't be with you, you can defend yourself.
- Once you gain his trust, your relationship escalates quickly. Not only is he able to sleep around you, but he also wants to move in with you. He's dedicated to everything he does and that dedication is now extended to your relationship. He's not far from considering marriage either.
- He knows that this is not how relationships typically progress, and he's aware that you're not ready to move at his pace. But he's willing to wait. Once you gain his trust beyond simple attraction, you've gained a partner for life.







