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struniolos · 5 months

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guitar lessons.

chapter one; does he take care of you?

(you can read chapter two here!)

synopsis: you decided to take guitar lessons from your boyfriend nate’s best friend, chris, while he’s away at college. but one night, things go too far. loosely based off the song sex by the 1975.

warnings: suggestive, heavy petting.

what the fuck where you doing.

the freezing winter breeze hit the back of your neck and tips of your ears, as you knocked your heavy boots onto the porch to rid of the snow caked beneath them. it was late, the dim porch light and streetlights your only source of illumination. winters in boston were relentless, and besides the fact you had lived there your entire life, you’d never be used to it’s cold bite. it was almost as if mother nature was punishing you, and well, it was pretty justified.

you had found yourself on a familiar doorstep, one you’d been to many times, but usually with your boyfriend nate at your hip- your safety net. chris, nick and matt had been friends with nate for years and you had known the boys since highschool. you’d consider them friends, but not really your friends. they were kind, but you’d much rather hang out with your own friends. the only reason you were usually dragged along was because it was some of the only times you could be with nate. now that he was in college, an hour drive away, things had become incredibly hard between you.

it was only a passing comment you made, last week, that had gotten you into this. a regular night of driving around aimlessly with nate, the boys, and you had mentioned how you wanted to learn guitar. of course, chris had piped up to say he’d teach you, and stupidly you agreed. it god, what would nate do if he knew you were here? what was wrong with you? it was 8pm on a tuesday, you should be in bed.

you rap your knuckles on the christmas wreathe adorned door, and step back to quickly hugging your hands around yourself, your shaky breath coming out as soft puffs of smoke. the door cracked open slowly, revealing chris in a black hoodie with words you couldn’t read scribed onto it, grey sweatpants and clunky brown ugg boots.

“you made it.” he smiled, running a hand through his floppy hair.

“i did.” you smiled back, as he opened the door wider to let you in.

you knocked your boots a few more times at the door before kicking them off.

“you look great.” chris commented, seemingly just being polite.

you smiled back awkwardly, shuffling your socks on the floorboards. “oh, thanks.”

“fuck, it’s cold out there isn’t it?” he commented, as he began to walk you down the hallway. it was adorned with photos of the boys, their family and friends, that you presumed their mother had hung. you’d been here so many times, but this time it felt like you were really present, and not just following the leader. you found yourself observing much more than you usually had.

“yeah, it’s insane.” you agreed, as you both walked through the empty kitchen and dining area, with all of the lights switched off.

you wondered if nick and matt were already asleep, or if they were out and would come home any moment to see you alone with their brother. you also wondered if his parents were away, or if they too would come home to find you with their son, your boyfriend nowhere to be found. god, you didn’t even want to think about it.

you both quietly walked up the stairs and towards his room, which was the last one down the very end of the hallway. you had never been in his room, the usual hangout spot was always the living room. you felt so guilty, as you head into his room hesitantly behind him. chris’ room wasn’t what you had expected, it was quiet and cozy, a juxtaposition of himself. his double bed was shoved in the corner, with plain black sheets, and a desk beneath the window with a matching drawer set on the opposing wall, his guitar lay against the wall beside his them.

“so, did nate end up convincing you to come?” he asked, breaking the thick silence between you.

nate doesn’t know i’m here. you thought, biting your lips.

“no, actually. it was all me.“ you tell him, kicking your feet awkwardly.

“huh, i didn’t think you’d come.” he said, grabbing his guitar.

“me neither.” you chuckle awkwardly, “but thanks for doing this though, i really appreciate it.”

“all good.” he says calmly, “i did promised i’d teach you.”

“you did.” you repeat, smiling at him. you watched the way his hair was falling softly over his eyes, and he had to keep pushing it back with his hand.

chris handed you the guitar, and you sat down on the edge of his bed. you balanced it on your thigh, “is this how i hold it?”

“yeah, just make sure it’s pressed a little closer to you.” he explains, sitting down beside you. you do as he says, pressing the instrument close to your stomach, trying to get used to the feeling.

“so, how about you give me a song you want to learn and we’ll start there. one with easy chords if you can.” chris says, his voice slightly softer than usual. you wondered if it’s because he was tired, or if he truly was being patient with you, as you’d never seen him so calm.

you think for a moment, back to the songs you were listening on the drive to his house. “do you know fade into you? by mazzy star?”

“yeah that’s a good one, just give me a second to work it out.” he says, pausing as he looked to the ceiling and waved his finger around as if he was writing imaginary chords and trying to piece it together in his mind.

you admired him up close now, as you had never been able to. you always saw him in conjunction with his brothers, but never alone. you noticed how his nose differed and was slightly more button like, and his lips were plump and fuller, his hair a little darker.

“okay, that’s not too hard, but i’ll try and make it as easy as i can. you’re only going to be using C, D, G and Am’s.” he told you, and it took everything in you not to melt on the spot. god, what was wrong with you? you inhaled deeply, finding your composure.

“here, it might be easier if i show you first.” he says, softly taking the guitar from you and placing it in his own lap. he held it much more comfortably than you, and he grabbed the pick that was between the strings at the neck. he held it between his teeth briefly, as he tuned the guitar. his hair fell over his eyes once more, and you were grateful for this as he wouldn’t see you gawking at him.

eventually, he started to strum the first chords. “watch how my fingers are placed on the neck, that’s the important part.”

chris began to play the familiar opening of the song, and you’re completely mesmerised. you watched his lips mouth the words softly under his breath, as if he didn’t notice he was completely lost in the song. you sat with your legs crossed, facing him fully, and rested your chin on your palm. he looked so at peace, like this was what he truly loved doing. you knew this is how nate felt with hockey, and it made you remind yourself just how insane you were acting.

he abruptly stopped by holding his palm on the strings to stop them, and looked up at you to meet your eyes. you blinked at him, blankly.

“you alright?” he asked with a smirk tugging his lips.

you nod, looking away from him. “yeah just, out of my depth i think.”

“it’s cool. what if i show you like this-“ he starts, reaching over to put the guitar back in your lap. he crawled around to sit behind you, but his legs were crossed, establishing a boundary. one you secretly wished wasn’t there.

you could feel his breath on your neck, and the cold winter breeze was a thing of the past. he peered over your shoulder to look down at your hands on the guitar, and began to move them into place. “you’ve got to hold the strings like this.”

it was so intimate, and you couldn’t help but wish things where like this with you and nate. the way chris was so tender with you, so patient, not that nate wasn’t- things were like this, at the start. but you felt you’d grown so distant, and things didn’t get you hot and bothered like they used to. but this, this made you think thoughts you wish you could bury deep down into the pits of your stomach.

chris assisted your hands in strumming the chords, explaining to you which chord was which as you moved your fingers against the strings. his hands were so warm, so inviting, his fingers long and slender and-

“are you getting this?” chris asked, breaking you from your daze.

“um, not really.” you said bashfully, ducking your head. “i’m sorry, i just…”

chris sighed heavily, removing his hands from yours and coming around to sit beside you once more so that you were face to face on the edge of his bed.

he pursed his lips, furrowing his eyebrows. “why did you really come? because it seems to me you’re not here for guitar lessons.”

your eyes went wide, and you began toying with the guitar strings mindlessly. “i did, it’s just…”

“it’s okay, you can tell me.” he urged, and you felt your stomach drop in guilt.

“i…” you begin, but couldn’t articulate yourself. “i don’t know.”

you placed the guitar onto the ground, sighing. “i’m sorry, i guess i just wanted company.”

“is everything okay? is it nate?” chris questioned, rubbing his face.

“no, nate’s great it’s just…” you pause, truly unable to string together a sentence. not with chris in front of you, so beautiful yet so unknowing.

“are you…not being taken care of?” he asked, his voice low.

there was a thick pause between you before you answered. “how do you mean?”

“you know exactly what i mean.” chris said in a knowing manner, tilting his head.

“i’m not talking about this with you.” you huffed, trying your best to act nonchalant. to make invisible boundaries for yourself, as you weren’t so sure how long you could hold it together.

he tutted, rolling his eyes. “why?”

“i’m fine, he’s only an hour away. we have phone sex like, all the time anyway.” you were blatantly lying at this point. there was something deeply wrong, or you wouldn’t be seeking out attention elsewhere. here.

chris chuckled, crossing his arms. “i might not be a smart guy but i can tell you’re frustrated. you’re looking at me like you’re going to pounce me any moment.”

you scoffed, although he was right. “what? you’re delusional.”

“am i?” he said, smirking. he was enjoying this. and a sick twisted part of you was too.

you groaned, running your hands down your face. “i feel so stupid talking to you about this.”

“it isn’t stupid.” he assured you, “now spit it out, what’s wrong?”

chris was ridiculously convincing when he wanted to be. just like how he had roped you into coming tonight. there was something about him so deliciously dangerous, that made you question your sanity and morals.

you let out a heavy sigh before you spoke. “it’s been months.”

there was a pause, as chris widened his eyes at you once he realised what you were talking about. “months?”

“yes. it’s never been this long, but i guess it’s because he lives so far now.” you explained, your cheeks flushing at the thought. things with nate used to always be so fun, you would sleep together multiple times a week, never be apart- but lately? you felt like you’d been left behind.

“do you think it’s because he’s busy with college?” chris asked, surprising you with how seriously he was taking you.

“yeah, i mean he’s trying so hard, and there are scouts at nearly every game now so he’s thing even more. then when he’s got college break and drives down here, i think by the time he sees me he’s just exhausted.” you blurt out, beginning to feel a little less weight on your chest like it had been holding you down to keep all of this inside.

chris nods, and reaches towards you to touches your back, “it’s alright, i mean i’m sure it’s nothing against you…he’s just busy.”

“i know, but that’s the problem. i never see him, and when i do he never wants to go out or do anything because he’s always so tired. if he’s not training he’s playing, and if it’s not that he’s studying, and it takes up all of his time.” you complain, but are soothed by the feeling of his hand circling your back.

“that’s a shame, for a girl like you…” chris trailed off, like he knew if he kept talking he would be crossing the line. but the lines were blurred at this point, anyway.

his hand slowly trailed down to your lower back, the thick material of your sweater a barrier to his soft touch that you ached for more of. it was so reckless of you, to be revelling in another man’s touch- but it felt so good.

“i could make you feel good.” he continued in a subtle whisper, biting his lips as he gave you a once over, your body is basking in the warmth of his gaze. this was wrong, so so very wrong.

“chris.” you warned him, as he brought his other hand to clasp over yours which rested on your thigh.

your breath was slightly disturbed, stuttering in your throat. god, why did this have to feel so good?

chris’s hand that was on your back now trails upwards to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. you hadn’t noticed how close he was, but hated how much you loved him invading your space.

“he doesn’t have to know.” he told you, brushing your hair away from your neck, his breath fanning your skin.

“i cant.” you croaked, as he slowly pressed his warm lips to the skin behind your ear.

it’s as if your brain shut down and your body took over, letting out a soft moan as chris kissed your skin, then continuing down to the junction of your neck and shoulder. he pulled your sweater to the side, giving him better access.

“hmm, chris we can’t.” you protested, a hand coming to rest on his shoulder gently.

“shhh.” he hushed as he pulled away from you, locking eyes. “let me take care of you.”

you looked at him with so much pain, yet so much longing. he held your face gently in his hands, stroking your cheek. “he won’t know.”

chris pressed his lips to yours softly, and you let yourself sink into his arms. he helped you onto his lap, your kisses becoming feverish and desperate yet still passionate. you found your hips slowly grinding down onto his, earning deep moans and slightly more aggressive kisses. you rolled your hips down onto his growing hardness, the friction through your clothing feeling euphoric.

chris pulled away for a moment, combing your hair back with his fingers so he could look at you. his eyes were dark, pupils blown and his lips glistening and plump.

“you’re so pretty.” he mumbled, “you’ve always been.”

you wanted to die, having this beautiful man beneath you at your mercy but a loyal boyfriend waiting for you only an hour away. your mind was becoming fuzzy, blurring what your body needed and what was right. you suddenly pulled away completely, getting off his lap and holding a hand to your forehead.

“i’m sorry…i…i cant do this.” you confessed, shaking your head.

chris opened his mouth to speak, but you didn’t allow him- darting out of his room quickly and running down the stairs. your breathing was so loud it was in your ears, your heart thumping in your throat and the walls feeling as if they were closing in on you. you grabbed your boots and burst out the front door, trudging through the thick snow in your socks. you threw your shoes into the passenger seat and jumped into your car at record speed, quickly starting the ignition. chris didn’t follow you.

you drove home in complete silence, your breathing becoming more rapid and the world feeling as though it was going to collapse around you. you got home and made a beeline for your room, changing into your pyjamas at record pace. guilt riddled you as you crawled into bed, cuddling yourself under the sheets and hiding from everything and everyone. you just wanted to stay there and rot.

you found yourself texting chris, wanting to have proof that you declined. that nothing else happened. that you ran away.

you: i’m sorry, that shouldn’t have happened.

it was only a few moments before he texted you back.

chris: no it shouldn’t have.

you: that can’t happen again.

chris: not until next time.

your eyes widened, no, no no! this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. he was supposed to have regretted it to, and want tp bury the memory deep down. you ignored him, laying your phone next to your head as you tried to close your eyes, hoping it would go away. until your phone buzzed, lighting up.

chris: meet me at mine tomorrow, 8pm?

your stomach dropped, and you held your face in your hands as you let out a silent scream. no, you couldn’t encourage this. but nate was an hour away, how would he know? it could only be while he’s away, then when he gets back you could pretend nothing happened! oh god, you were going to hell.

you: okay.

(chapter two.)

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo oneshot #chris sturniolo x you #christopher sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x fem reader #guitar lessons

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princessbrunette · 3 months

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brother’s best friend!rafe is on my mind every minute of every day 😵‍💫 fucking in the most obvious places & reader is trying her absolute best to not make a sound, but rafe isn’t having it - he literally goes to POUND TOWNNN & the moans just pour out her poor mouth !!! :(

also, can i be clawdeen wolf anon? (i love monster high❤️‍🔥).

i misread the request i know i know pls

🎀🩰♡🌸୭

“i swear, you wanna get caught, don’t you? yeah, that shit gets you off, doesn’t it?” rafe pants, his dresser banging against the wall rhythmically from where you’re sat on top of it, his hips thrusting into you. he hadn’t even shut his bedroom door.

you’d been outside with sarah all day, lounging by the pool. rafe wasn’t that discreet about his attraction towards you, wandering out onto the the porch to stare you down in your little bikini. sarah had quickly shooed him away, yelling something about him being a perv which he didn’t deny — turning back around in disinterest with an eye roll, sipping his drink as he meanders back inside. but now, after you’d told her you had to grab something from your bag in her room — she’d left you to her own devices inside tannyhill.

“no! we — we can’t, i feel— mmph— feel terrible!” you whimper, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he destroys your little cunt, bikini bottoms pushed to the side, toes curling at his lower back.

“really? really. ‘cos to me it seems like you feel pretty good.” he whispers, smirk threatening to twitch at his lips as he switches over to rolling his lips languidly instead of thrusting incessantly. your jaw drops, forehead falling to press to his shoulder and you watch him fuck into you, whining as quietly as your body will allow you.

“she can’t know.” you reiterate in a shameful whisper, trembling when his hand presses between you, thumbing at your clit.

“wont know unless you tell ‘er.” he pants, speeding up again chasing his own high. “hey, you’re the one that likes sneakin’ around so much maybe we should tell her huh? — oh saraaaah!” he calls fairly loudly, turning his face to the open door knowing his sister was outside, likely not to hear him.

you gasp anyway, slapping at his chest making him lose his rhythm and he chuckles boyishly, grabbing you a little tighter so you stop fighting him. “you’re fine.” he reassures, lips hovering over yours as he continues to fuck you, about to kiss you.

“the fuck do you want rafe?” sarah’s voice is suddenly not far at all, half way up the stairs and your eyes widen in panic, shoving him away and jumping off the dresser. he presses his lips together in irritation, yanking his shorts up, sure to tuck his erectjon the right way, so that it wasn’t apparent. as her footsteps draw closer to the already open door, rafe grabs you by the shoulders and stuffs you behind it — opening the door fully to conceal you. she arrives, and he comes up with some bullshit excuse, saying he didn’t need to ask her what he was going to ask before.

she asks if he’s seen you and he shrugs, probably way too exaggerated and theatrical with his mouth turned downwards.

“why the hell would i know where she is, huh?”

sarah’s eyes subconsciously glance around his room. “she said she was coming upstairs to get something from her bag. did you say something to her? it’s bad enough you stare at her all the time like a total creep, but i swear to god rafe if you said anything to—”

“the fuck are you pointing fingers for? i said i haven’t seen her.” he argues back, more convincing this time. “last time i did see her in the house, she was saying she didn’t feel too good. maybe you just missed her.” he explains slowly, calmly. you barely breathe behind the door.

the explanation wasn’t quite adding up, and sarah’s brows furrow, eyeing her older brother. he stares back, knowing if he looks away it’ll be a cause of concern. she’s distracted by his overall appearance, the usually well groomed boy stood before her a little sweaty and red in the face, hair dishevelled and stuck to his forehead.

“whats up with you?” she asks in disgust and he rolls his eyes, waving her away.

“nothing is up with m— get out of my room, go.” he walks her back and she rolls her eyes, storming away.

“i’m not in your room, idiot.”

“shutup.”

he watched her disappear before slowly closing the door, turning to you with a growing smirk.

“i’m going to hell.” you whisper.

“well until then, she thinks you’ve headed home so… guess i got you to myself for the rest of the evening.” he closes in on you, pressing your back to the door and cupping you over your bikini bottoms once more, free hand pawing at your tit. “gotta be quiet though, alright? stakes are higher now. don’t wanna ruin all the fun.”

🎀🩰♡🌸୭

#clawdeen wolf anon #rafe cameron prompt #bfb!rafe

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toxicanonymity · 8 months

Text

At the table.

2.2k, DARK!Joel x f!reader, then dark!Tommy

Joel master list

A/N: One shot, follows Caught, can read alone. Throwaway Joel encore by popular demand 🚬🤡

SUMMARY: Joel brings you back to his apartment and makes you suck him off then cockwarm him while he and the boys play cards. Tommy tucks you in but not before getting off.

WARNINGS: Very dark, mean, dubious consent (captivity & ongoing abuse), humiliation, degradation, manhandling, injury (intentional burns), shackles, blow job, P in V, cockwarming, stretching, fisting-adjacent fingering

He caught you. You knew he would. You never should have tried. It was too easy and you’re beginning to realize he probably left you unlocked on purpose. For the chase, the thrill of the hunt, and the punishment. The humiliation.

On the walk home, Joel screws open his canteen and asks if you’re thirsty. You nod and he forces you to your knees and tells you to open your mouth. He takes a swig of water, swallows it, then spits it in your mouth. Then he takes another sip and doesn’t swallow it. He squats down, firmly takes your jaw in his hand, and lets it dribble from his mouth to yours.

“Now get up.”

You struggle to your feet and he yanks you up by the elbow. His apartment isn’t too far, because you didn’t make it far when you ran.

On the way up the stairs, he groans with the effort. “Too fuckin tired,” he complains. “I should get Tommy to fuck some sense into ya.”

You’re quiet.

“Bet ya’d like that, huh?”

“No,” you reply.

“‘an’ why’s that?”

“Only want yours.” If he knew any different, he probably wouldn’t let Tommy speak to you much less touch you.

“Cause i ruined ya, didn’t i? Ruined all your holes.”

“I dunno”

“Got ya too stretched to even feel Tommy’s, right?” He sighs and musses your hair. “Ruined. Now you’re just for me. You know that, right?”

“I know.”

“That cunt’s never gonna please another man now.” He chuckles darkly. “But hell, might as well try, darlin’.”

You don’t say anything else.

“I ain’t gonna stop ya.” He’s passed you around enough that you don’t doubt it, but he always keeps you to himself in the end. It’s almost like a game of dominance. Like he’ll let the men get a taste, then yank you away and laugh that they can’t have the rest.

Joel gets you back to his apartment and you’re briefly relieved when he doesn’t take you straight to the dim room with your bed and chains. But he does shove you up against the door with his hand around your throat. “Don’t you ever pull that shit again.”

You nod a tearful acknowledgement. He lets go of you and softens his tone. “Such a pretty girl,” before adding, “Fuckin’ act like it.” You nod again.

“Boys are comin’ over,” he says. “You’re gonna sit on my cock and you’re not gonna fuckin’ move.”

—--

Your clit twitches. The sitting-on-his cock part, that doesn’t sound half bad. But you’re afraid of what else he might do. You’re also afraid of what’s becoming of you. Part of you (a specific part of you) is more excited than fearful at the thought of him hurting you, humiliating you. It’s pavlovian - he’s forced you to cum so many times in fucked up situations, your body can’t help itself.

They’re coming over to play poker. They sit in the kitchen. First, Joel puts you under the table at his feet. “Do a good job, and I might let ya stay there.” You palm the warm bulge over his jeans, then straddle his boot as you unbuckle his belt. You slowly feel him getting bigger and harder. When he’s fully stiff and his hips begin to rock into your hand, you dig your knuckles into his belly as you unbutton his jeans then unzip him. You massage him through his boxers before unbuttoning the flap and taking out his hard cock. You wrap your hands around it as you sit up more to bring your head to his crotch as Tommy deals the cards. Joel moves an ashtray from the table to a shelf behind him.

As your head approaches his groin, you get a strong whiff of his musk and it makes you throb. You take his tip into his mouth and don’t go slow. He doesn’t like it when you ‘tease’ him. You suck with your whole mouth and throat, bobbing your head, getting him really slobbery, his girth stretching the corners of your mouth. Your suction extracts his salty precum and a drop trickles down your throat. Joel plays a hand of poker and growls from his chest. The sound makes you twitch and your crotch presses into his shin for relief.

“Lil slut’s already humpin’ my leg.”

They laugh. Tommy asks, “dibs on next?”

Joel scoffs. Not today, apparently. “Fuck off, man,” he grumbles, then peeks under the table at you. “Take your clothes off, baby.” You get his dick really wet, then take off your pants and underwear, preparing to climb into his lap. “Everything,” Joel says. You take off your shirt, too. You don’t own any bras right now. "C'mere." He puts down his cards and rests his hands face up on his knees for you to grab onto. You begin to hover over his lap, biting your lip. He sticks two dirty fingers between your legs and slides them through your folds. He laughs at how wet you are. "Thirsty bitch. Turn around."

Your thighs shake as he makes you face the rest of the guys. He holds his cock with one hand and guides you by your hip with another. The men stare. As soon as his slobbery tip hits your cunt, he impales you on his cock. You gasp as he bruises your cervix and your body tries to catch up with him, giving you more moisture. Then he roughly gropes your breast and pulls you back against his chest on full display for all of them. He massages both your breasts with a groan.

"Your hand, buddy," Joel says to the man across from him. The men compose themselves to keep playing.

He rocks you on his cock, massaging your breasts in a circular motion with your nipples between his middle and ring fingers. His thick cock moving deep inside makes you feel good. Nothing hurts at the moment, except your nipples which are so hard they're on the verge of pain. He moves one hand to your clit and begins to rub you with abandon, still massaging your other breast. Tommy lights a cigarette.

By the time it's Joel's turn to play, you're about to cum. You look up at the ceiling and he bounces you on his cock in short quick pulses. The tension bursts and you whimper as he moves his hand from your clit to the back of your neck. "Look at me, baby." When you turn your head to the side, he slams you down on the table. Your hard nipples are swallowed up by your breasts with the impact and you're still coming. He holds you down and you whine as your walls choke his cock.

Your hips rock with your climax and he commands "stay fuckin' still." You whine and gush on his lap as he holds you down on the table.

"Good God," he grumbles. "You're gonna wash'em"

You finish coming and Joel keeps holding you still. You know better than to try to move. He picks up his cards and holds them between your naked shoulder blades as he plays his hand. Then he puts them face down on your back to light a cigarette. He picks up his hand of cards again and sits back in his chair.

The men continue their game, talking like you're not there, but you can feel their eyes on you. Your breasts are sweating against the slick wood table. Your eyes are growing bloodshot with the smoke of their cigarettes. Joel's cock occasionally twitches inside you, thick and stiff.

Tommy finishes his cigarette and hands it to Joel, nodding at the ashtray behind him. You flinch and your ass clenches as he brings it to your shoulder, close to a cluster of scars. He presses the smoldering end to your skin and you tense with the white hot burn, making your cunt choke his cock. You twitch with pleasure as the burn fades. His cock moves.

"Oof," his hips shift under you. "Easy baby." He's close to finishing his own cigarette. They continue playing. When Joel finishes his own cigarette he sits back and brings the cigarette butt to your lower back.

He lifts his hips as he presses the butt of it into your skin and your eyes pinch shut. Your body erupts in goose bumps and as you clench around him, he begins to erupt with a long sigh. He pulses warmly against your cervix. Lifting his hips and sighing as the other men watch. Your eyes briefly flutter open to see Tommy palming himself and you lock eyes with him. Your mouth falls open, you pinch your eyes shut, and you moan as another climax overtakes you.

Joel finishes dumping his load in you and you're a whimpering mess as you finish coming. He leaves you on his softening cock for the rest of the game, and you begin to drift off, then one of the men wants to talk about their drug supplier. Joel sighs.

“She asleep?” Tommy asks.

Joel leans to one side as he digs into his pocket and hands Tommy a key to your chain. “Put her to bed.”

—---

Tommy clears his throat then adjusts himself, then nudges you. “Hey, ready for bed?”

“For Christ’s sake, just take her, Tommy.” Joel lifts his hips and holds you up against the table by your sides. You wobble as you begin to stand on your feet.

“Clothes?” Tommy asks.

“Nah,” Joel says.

Tommy swallows and takes you by the elbow. His grip is firm but nothing like Joel’s. He takes you down the basement, catching you when you wobble on the stairs. Then he gently shoves you down on the bed like it’s a chore. “Why’d ya run?”

“I was hungry.”

“I’ll getcha somethin’ if you’re good.” He probably would. He was the one who got you a blanket.

“Thanks.”

Tommy palms himself over his jeans as he watches you turn on your side and reach for the dirty blanket. He shakes his head. “Not yet, sugar,” and you drop the blanket. He kneels on the bed. “Open those pretty legs and lemme see the damage.” You turn onto your back and spread your thighs.

Tommy bends your knees for you then spreads your thighs wider.

He watches Joels cum leak out of your fucked-out cunt and gives a low whistle. “Really did a number on ya tonight, didn’t he? Kept ya on it forever”

Tommy sits on the bed and reaches for your pussy. He runs his fingers through your slick and inserts two, then three of his thick digits within seconds. “God damn,” he mutters. "Does it hurt?"

You shake your head no.

You squirm with tension building as he finger fucks you. You watch him watch his middle three fingers go in and out of your cunt. He then he adds his pinky, stretching you even wider. You gasp at the strain. "Fuck," he says. He thumbs your clit and slowly moves his fingers inside you in small pulses. Your body adjusts and gets wetter again. "You wanna cum again? Cum in my hand like a good little slut?"

You nod.

"Gonna let me fuck ya first though."

You swallow. "Okay."

Tommy takes his soaking wet hand away. He unzips his pants and takes out his hard cock, stroking it with his dripping hand as he gets between your knees. His cock looks painfully stiff.

He braces one hand on the bed near your navel and slides his cock right into you. "Shit," he mutters, disappointed rather than pleased. "Shoulda done this first," he laughs. "Could prolly fit two of me in here right now, huh?" His cock wasn't small, either. He thrusts a few times and pulls you toward him by your thighs. You try to squeeze him with your walls and he chuckles. “‘s good effort, sweetheart.” After thrusting a few more times, he speeds up. He slams his hips into you and your back arches. You whimper on the verge of coming.

“Really?” Tommy asks? “I’m hittin' somethin'? You can feel it?"

You nod with a whimper.

“Alright,” he pants, “I'll let ya have it.” He rails you hard and fast for a minute then you whine as a climax overwhelms you. Your walls contract around him and he says, “Yeah, there we go,” and keeps fucking you. "There it is." He fucks you through it. “Ready or not,” he mutters, then slams his hips into you and begins to dump his load. He sighs as his spend fills you and mixes with Joel’s. Then he pulls out and smiles darkly as some trickles out of you. He gathers it with his fingers and pushes it back inside.

"Gettin' real good at takin' all this," he whispers, then squeezes your thigh affectionately. He reaches for the floor and grabs the blanket. "you're a good girl, ya know." He cuffs you to the bed and spreads the blanket over you. "you know better than runnin’.”

You nod. Tommy squeezes your thigh as he stands up, then he goes across the basement and returns with some jerky. “I’ll talk to him ‘bout the food”

“No don’t”

“Why not”

“I’ll get in trouble”

“Not gonna say you said it.”

“Thanks,” you smile.

He walks upstairs leaving you alone.

-------

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Thank you so much for reading and engaging 🖤🤟

@toxicfics for notifications ✉️

For a different dark Joel who's more complex, read raider Joel ⛓️🖤 read the latest if you haven't for his POV.

For a different dark Tommy, see Birds of prey (raider Tommy)

For another under table bj that leads to Tommy, see Tommy's hard day. 🗼

#dark!joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #dark!joel #toxicanonymity ☠️#ultradark ☠️#tw dubcon #tw dv

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 6 months

Text

Old Scars, New Blood 1

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, manipulation, borderline bullying, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader has accepted that she'll never be wanted, not only by the man she's crushed on for years, but by anyone. That is until a new player enters the game. (f!, short!reader)

Character: Lloyd Hansen, Thor Odinson

Note: I could blame yall for talking me into it but we know it's all my fault.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

The sharp zip cuts through the air. Lloyd hauls the long black bag up and checks his watch. He struts over to you and shoves the heavy luggage at you, letting it go before you can wrap your arms around it. You nearly topple from the weight.

You grunt and hug it tightly, the long duffle isn't exactly a vacation's worth Hawaiian shirts and cargo shorts. You can feel the long metal barrels as cases of ammo dig into your arms. You manage to get a hand on the handle and swing it after several tries onto your shoulder.

He's already halfway out the door. You trail after him, nearly stumbling to keep up. He's so tall you often find yourself running after him like a stray dog. So tall and handsome and--

Shut up! That's not what you should be thinking about.

Your phone vibrates and you struggle to pull it out of your pocket. You sigh as Lloyd continues along without notice, whistling casually as he approaches the stairs. Shit.

As he begins down the stairs, you stop at the top, leaning with the pull of the bag. You try to reply to the text as he makes quick progress to the bottom.

He whistles up at you and snaps his fingers. You pop your head up and amble down the steps, barely catching yourself against the railing as you slip. When you get to the bottom, he's standing at the door, huffing impatiently.

"What's goin' on, kid?"

Kid. That's what he's always called you. Even though you're not that much younger than him. It's never sweetheart or honey like the pretty ones. Just kid.

"Plane's delayed. There's headwinds--"

"Christ's sake," he snarls.

"Sorry, sir, the pilot's trying--"

"Boring," he chops his hand through the air to silence you, "let's go."

He stands by the closed doors. You try not to let his impatience bother you. You can't blame him. He has an important mission. There's no time to be waiting on a cloud cover.

You open the right door and he steps through, tramping down the stone stairs to the mosaic walkway. Once more you're on your toes as you scurry after him. You watch how his jacket stretches between his shoulder blades. His sleeves hug his arm tightly, showing off his hard work and muscle. You shake your head, stop. Ten years. You know better.

You're out of breath as you get the idling car. Jackson, the driver nods but is similarly ignored as he opens the door for Lloyd. You go to the trunk as it pops and you put the gun bag inside.

You get in the other side as Lloyd splays his legs out and unlocks his phone with his thumb. You keep your cell clutched tight and tap it nervously. He doesn't handle roadblocks well, he's the type to demand and get. Something he hired you to make sure of.

"Well, extra time, I guess," he mutters as he swipes across the screen.

The car rolls up the long drive as you check your messages again. Still no updates. You cross one leg over the other as Lloyd's loafer nearly touches your oxford shoe.

"Hmmmm, can't decide on this one," he grumbles and tilts his screen toward you, "what do you think, kid?" He wiggles it at you as you look at the woman on the screen, "tits are nice but the tattoo screams Hep C."

You nearly gasp but just raise your eyebrows instead. He's always looking for a reaction. Your cheeks set alight and you twiddle your fingers around your own phone.

"Well, sir, I… she's pretty."

"Relax, you won't be invited to threesome," he scoffs and leans back, swiping left, "that's what this is for. Variety."

You don't say a word as you bring your hand to the side of your neck, feeling the heat of your skin. It's not just that it's him saying it, it's that gnawing feeling of inadequacy. The mystery of the unknown makes you self-conscious and wary of saying the wrong thing. The same way when you talk to your sister and she tells you about her husband. Well, you don't hear from her much these days.

"I'll send you their info. You can make a few calls before we get back," he snickers, "get everything ready for me."

"Uh, sure, sir, but uh… like I said before, that's not exactly part of my job."

"Don't tell me what your job is," he barks as he blacks his phone, "goddamn, you're always such a tight ass. Usually I'm all for a tight hole but you really know how to squeeze a man by his balls."

"I'm sorry, sir–"

"Another fucking 'sorry, sir' and I'm gonna snap. I can't do eight hours on a flight with you pouting like that."

"Understood, won't happen again," you dip your head down, "sorry, s–"

You clap your hand over your mouth. The words are so habitual they start to fall out before you realise, and yet another urge to say them. Just stop talking. You peek at Lloyd with wide eyes and drop your hand.

"You're a fucking downer, kid," he sits forward, "Jackie, pull the fuck over."

"Yes, sir," the driver replies from the little speaker under the barrier between the front and back seat. "You, get the fuck out."

You're surprised by his sudden flare of anger. There's not much about him that truly shocks you anymore but as irritable as he can be, this is unusual. His agitation has boiled to molten hot in a matter of minutes.

"Sir?"

"You can walk back and start getting shit ready. I mean, we'll see if you can since you can't get the goddamn plane on the ground," he growls as the car pulls onto the gravel wing of the road. "You're getting fucking soft, kid."

"Sir, I didn't–"

"You did. You fucking killed my boner so get out," he shoos you with his finger and unlocks his phone again, "buh bye."

You hesitate. You slowly move to the door and let yourself out. You're buzzing in disbelief. He can be a jerk, you're used to that, but this all seems so abrupt. You can only assume there's something else bothering him.

You shut the door as you stand on the side of the road. You hear Lloyd's deep timbre muffled inside the car before it pulls away. You stare after it, crossing your arms as you sniff and the sun glares along the edge of your vision.

You slowly turn and face the horizon. You're not that far. Maybe twenty minutes. Well, the single silver lining. You can't help your disappointment. You look forward to missions. It's an excuse to be with Lloyd. A reason for him to put up with you.

You set off, trodding along without urgency. There's nothing at the compound for you. It's not like you go on every mission but it's the unexpected change that gets you. More so, his temper. You see it aimed at others more than yourself.

Your phone buzzes again. The plane's landed. That's good news. As you continue your trek, you dial out to Lloyd's phone and put the speaker to your ear. No answer. Several more tries have a similar result, the last call clicking dead right away.

You send a text and it bounces back as undeliverable. You don't get it, your signal is strong. It's a military grade phone. You slide your phone away and try not to let your anxiety get the best of you.

He wouldn't block your number, would he?

You're not special, that much is clear, but you've stuck around so long that you just can't see it ending over one slip-up. Sure, Lloyd has screamed agents out of the compound, he's even stranded them in hostile grounds, but they weren't there as long as you've been.

You drag your feet as you approach the gate. You let yourself in with the code and ignore the gazes of agents as you cross the yard and go back inside.

All this and for what?

If Lloyd fires you, you've spent ten years pent up in places like this, doing his grunt work. The tail end of your twenties and much of your thirties traded for imagined cues and empty hopes. You accepted long ago that Lloyd would never see you, just the woman he called 'kid', but the thought of losing even that makes you want to cry. You can accept that you're not as good as the models he fucks around with, but you can't accept not being there at all.

You're overreacting. You always do this. It's always the end of the world.

Lloyd will come back and everything will go back to normal. You're the only one who gets his coffee right and knows that he hates mushrooms but loves Salisbury steak. He needs you, just not like you want him to.

❤️‍🩹

Radio silence. You don't hear from him and any message you try to send is unanswered. He's on a mission, he's in blackout mode, yet you can't help but be paranoid.

Without him to order you around, you're not quite sure what to do with yourself. It's sad but that's just who you are. You're not the one doing, you're the one listening to those who do.

The first day is the worst of it. On the second, you're not as addled and a bit relieved not to be hidden in some safe house waiting for a signal or listening to Lloyd make sick jokes. Still, you'd rather be with him.

The second night, you expect some sort of word from him. Still nothing.

You lay in bed, restless. You don't dream about him anymore, you don't close your eyes and think about what it'd be like to be beautiful or interesting, you know it will never happen. But you worry about him. That you'll never be rid of.

The third morning, a Saturday, you go down to make your coffee. Other agents mill about as the tech crew speak into their headsets and type furiously. Something’s going on.

You near the doorway and listen in, trying to discern the chaos. There's cams to switch cameras and directions given, coordinates read out and warnings about oncoming targets. It's the usual, the same chatter you listen to over the comms when Lloyd's out in the field. Now you can only hear one side.

As the tempo builds, there's another furor. The chime that signals the censor at the front gate. Rico storms out of comms central as you flatten yourself to the wall and wait to trail him until he's past the stairs.

"What the fuck is going on?" He waves an agent in black close, "who the fuck is here?"

The agent puts his fingers to his earpiece, "we have sights."

"I asked who it was, not if you can make a shot," Rico shoves the man and stomps to the front doors, shoving them open before him. "Tell them to go the fuck away."

An agent runs up the driveway, puffing as he holds his gun securely in front of him. He stops as Rico gets to the bottom of the stairs

"Sir, sir, it's… it's Valhalla."

"Val-what?" Rico snips.

"Valhalla!" The man repeats louder.

"Shit. Fuck." Rico continues in a rampant flurry of Spanish, "they're early."

"Sir," the agent bows his head as another appears before him.

You frown and watch from the doorway, trying to stay out of sight as you eavesdrop.

Hm. Valhalla. You know the name, rather well, but only through correspondence. A code name. For a faceless man and his deep pockets. You hadn't heard it recently though. You thought that whole thing fizzled out.

"Fuck, Hansen, take your fucking time," Rico mutters between his Spanish diatribes, "let them in. Full search." You hear him clop back up the stairs before he blusters inside, "I need men. Now!"

He turns and sees you cradling your coffee with a dumb look. He sneers and rolls his eyes, "perfect. You'll do. We need rooms. We have guests."

"What?" You squint.

"You're a woman, you should know how to make them at home."

"You're not my boss," you grimace and drink your coffee.

"Don't get smart with me just because that idiot keeps sniffing at his heels. Go and do something useful for once," he claps at you.

You don't move. You take orders from one person. Otherwise, you stay out of the way.

"Fuck!" He hollers and twists on his heel again.

He marches into the next room and you slowly near the front doors, still ajar as they gape out at the golden day. You come outside and descend the steps, standing just by the plinthed flower vase at the bottom. You watch the gates roll apart, letting in the convoy lined outside.

There are four cars in total. All ivory and gleaming. They hardly seem like military vehicles.

You don't get it. You pull out your phone and scroll through your emails. The last message you got from Valhalla was months ago and it left you at a stalemate between them and your indomitable boss.

The first car pulls up and stops, the other fanning out behind it. Agents circle, keeping a broad perimeter as they watch with similar intrigue. Rico appears again, muttering to himself as he holsters a gun.

You look back to the grated bumper of the luxury SUV. The engine rolls over as you find yourself holding your breath. This is it, the vaunted Valhalla. You keep your mug close to your chest as the car door opens and your jaw nearly hits the floor.

It's a man more gorgeous than anyone you've ever seen before. Well, maybe not everyone but damn close. His golden hair is braided down his back and a few wavy strands hang loose around his face. His sky blue eyes shine in the sunlight as he smiles, the expression lining his face immaculately. You gulp and force your mouth shut.

There's a brief lull before anyone reacts. Rico is the first to snap into action. He clamours down and offers a hand, "Valhalla, hello, Rico. Hansen is in the field but I will be your host."

"Ah, Rico," Valhalla repeats with a keen lilt, "you'll do for the time being."

His blue eyes scan the facade of the compound. It appears nothing more than a remote and overpriced mansion. The man takes a deep breath as if tasting the air and pauses as his gaze falls upon you. His brows twitch but he does not react otherwise.

He turns back to Rico and claps his back, "well, we traveled far, we require food and sleep and if you can spare it, lots of alcohol."

#lloyd hansen #thor #dark lloyd hansen #dark thor #dark!thor #dark!lloyd hansen #thor x reader #lloyd hansen x reader #the gray man #mcu #avengers #marvel #au #series #old scars new blood #fic #dark fic #dark!fic

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beenbaanbuun · 7 months

Text

seventeen’s reaction to their youngest member getting injured

choi seungcheol

has already lost 10 years of his life just from worrying about you

loses 5 more when he has to accompany you to the hospital because of your broken leg

he tried to save the lecture until after he knows you’re okay, but he can’t help it when the leader in him comes out

the conversation *cough* reprimand *cough* lasts for the whole car journey and by the time you’ve got the the hospital, you’d already been blocking it out for 10 minutes

“you need to be more careful,” he said as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders. he might be frustrated, but he still wanted to show you he cared. “it might be a broken leg this time but who knows what it’ll be next time!”

at the end of the day he just cares about you too much to see you hurt

yoon jeonghan

if it isn’t bad, he’ll just tease you about how clumsy you are

probably still teases you if it is bad, but when you start tearing up because of how much it hurts, will immediately stop

causes hell just to make sure you’re getting the best treatment possible because he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t make you were were as comfortable as possible

eventually calms down when you assure him you’re fine and you feel perfectly alright with what you’d been given

leaves 80% of the lecturing to seungcheol and just gives you a tiny one himself, mostly about how you’re not allowed to worry him

once he knows you’re feeling a little better, a switch will flip and he’ll go back to his regular annoying self just to try and get things back to normal

“well at least you didn’t fall down the stairs,” he laughed before cutting it short just a few seconds later, “oh, wait… never mind, you did!”

hong jisoo

was the only one around when you cut your finger open with the kitchen knife

doesn’t know what to do so he sends a text to seungcheol and shoves your hand under the cold tap for a while

tries to cheer you up but doesn’t really know how to when you’re bleeding profusely and crying just as much

eventually lands on his usual method of doing stupid shit just to get the tiniest smile out of you while you wait for anyone else to come and do the important part of patching you up

“keep your hand there,” he tells you as he lets go of your wrist and steps away from you, “get ready to feel better.”

100% does that silly little dance of his which has you cry laughing instead of just regular crying

you almost forget how much it hurts and shua considers his job done!

wen junhui

kind of clueless on what to do when you go to him with a bloody nose and tell him you got hit in the face playing foot volleyball

sits you down on the sofa whilst he frantically google’s how to stop nose bleeds

asks you to go and grab tissues before realising that you’re the one he’s supposed to be helping and goes to get them himself

winces a bit when he gets blood on his hands but remembers that he’s doing it for you and the grossness of it goes away pretty quickly

tries to talk you through the pain, letting you know about what he’s been doing with his day and what he’s planning to do later

“and then you came in to talk to me and i think that’s it,” he finished up recounting every second of his day as he switched the tissue for a clean one, “and then later i’m going to head to the practice rooms to-”

definitely forgets about your injury once the bleeding has stopped and boops you on the nose only to profusely apologise when you wince in pain

kwon soonyoung

if you could run away with a sprained ankle, you definitely should because hoshi will turn up his clinginess by about 80% the moment he hears that you have an injury

will not let you out of his sight until he knows you’re okay again

unfortunately for you that means you have a permanent body guard telling you what you can and can’t do which gets very old very fast

you cant even hide from him because god knows he will seek you out and yell at you for walking on your bad ankle too much

might be overbearing but in reality he just wants you to get better as quickly as possible because it makes him sad to see you in pain

“sit down and let me do it,” hoshi shouted as he noticed you trying to get a bowl of cereal for yourself, “and you wonder why i like to keep an eye on you…”

you eventually give into the clinginess in the hopes that he’ll get bored after a while… he doesn’t…

jeon wonwoo

freezes when he spots you crying and holding your wrist in front of the stove

literally does not know what to do in this situation because he usually palms it off onto one of his other members

but he’s the only one around and you’ve just been burnt and desperately need someone to help

so he walks over to you and drags you to the sink with your good wrist, all whilst muttering complaints about how you need to be more careful

strokes your hair when you’re running your wrist under the cold water to try and soothe you just a little

“you’re okay, y/n,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your hairline, “i know it hurts but the longer you hold it under the water, the less it’ll hurt in the long run.”

passes you along to the next member that comes along but will check up on you every few minutes just to make sure you’re okay

lee jihoon

his first response is always ‘go find seungcheol’ when you go to him with an injury, but sometimes he’s the only one around and you look so upset and fuck… he’ll have to deal with this

very methodical about it - asks you what’s wrong, finds out what he needs to do, does it

he’ll try and hide his smile as you tell him about what stupid thing you were doing that got you hurt this time, but tries to hide it because at the end of the day, you’re still injured

usually shuffles in close whilst he’s bandaging you up just so you can lean on him in it gets too painful at any point

he refuses to complain about you leaning on him when you’re hurt because how can he deny you physical affection when it’s obviously making you feel better

in reality he just has a soft spot for you and uses you being hurt as an excuse to let you hug him with no complaints

“there we go, kid,” he rubs your arm affectionately, “all patched up…”

lee seokmin

panics because oh god his kid is hurt and he doesn’t know what to do and WHERE IS SEUNGCHEOL

will sit down and hold you close while he rings around the members to try and find one to come and help

he claims the cuddling is to help soothe, but you both know it’s so he can calm himself down more than anything

eventually gets ahold of another member and begs them to come home and help

breathes a sigh of relief when they agree; now his only job is making sure you’re calm and comfortable and nothing hurts too much

cue seokmin literally becoming your butler for the next 20 minutes whilst you wait for someone else to get home because he needs to make sure that you have everything you need

“do you need more tea?” he asks as you take the final sip. not even a second passes before the mug is taken from you and more tea is poured. “i’ll get you some more, just so you have it if you want it, okay?”

kim mingyu

tries his hardest to help but he can’t help but gag when you tell him about how you trapped you fingers in the car door

doesn’t know what to do so he literally wraps up your whole hand in gauze and calls it a day - it’s someone else’s problem now

spends more time trying to cheer you up than he actually does helping with your injury because at least he knows how to make you smile

tells you bad jokes until you can’t breathe from laughter and you’re begging him to stop

he stops but only so you can get your breath back, and then he starts again because laughter is clearly a great pain killer

“if it’s more jokes you want then it’s more jokes i have, pipsqueek,” mingyu smiled at you as you frantically shook your head, “no more jokes? well that’s boring… how about this one? why did the old man-”

continues until someone more qualified to deal with your gross injury gets home

xu minghao

doesn’t lecture you in the same way seungcheol does, but definitely gives you a speech about how you shouldn’t be putting yourself in dangerous situations

rolls his eyes at you when you try and pass the blame onto another member who you claimed to be your ‘partner in crime’ because he knows it was definitely just your own clumsiness

still tries his hardest to help clean up the scratch on your face that you got from who knows what - minghao had zoned out part way through your convoluted story

lets you squeeze his hand if the antiseptic makes your scratch hurt too much

even let’s you pick out a cute bandaid to put over it just because he knows it’ll cheer you up

“if your stylist gets mad at you, don’t come crying to me,” he grumbles as he presses a kind kiss to the bandaid, “it’s your own fault, no one else’s.”

tells you to be careful before you go running off to cause more trouble

boo seungkwan

very much an ‘i told you this would happen’ kind of person, even if he had not ‘told you so’ like he says he did

will roll his eyes when you get brought back to the dorms with a cast on your wrist, but is the first to help you carry your stuff inside

yells at you if you even think about lifting a finger but complains about how you’re making him do everything for you

you always tell him if it’s that much trouble you’ll do it yourself, but he’ll just glare at you and tell you to stop talking nonsense

threatens to tell seungcheol whenever he catches you with your arm out of your sling

would actually go through with it if he thought you were doing any real damage to your arm

“the doctor wouldn’t like you doing that, you know,” he muttered as he watched you stretch out your aching limb, “neither would seungcheol…”

choi hansol

vernon knows that if you go to him with an injury, you have exhausted literally every other option you have

literally clueless about what to do when you walk up to him with a black eye because you ran into a glass door

google is his best friend as he frantically searches how to reduce bruising

has no qualms with sending you to retrieve your own ice pack from the freezer as he does some more googling…

won’t do much to try and cheer you up other than putting on a movie and grabbing snacks for the two of you to share

doesn’t complain about holding your ice pack in place when you fall asleep on his shoulder… after all, it just means more snacks for him

falls asleep himself before the film is over and your ice pack ends up on the floor… so much for trying to reduce the bruising

lee chan

probably his fault you were injured in the first place so he makes you promise that if he helps then you won’t tell any of the older members

you only agree to the deal when he offers to buy you a meal as well as helping you clean and bandage the cuts on your knees from where he tripped you

he honestly tries his hardest to help, partly because he feels bad and partly because he doesn’t want to face anyone’s wrath when they find out he’s the reason you’re injured

tries is the main word, though, as he ends up having to get help from someone else anyway

he chooses the least likely member to get him in trouble and together him and mingyu puzzle over what to do about your knees

you eventually end up guiding them through the process of cleaning them and then wiping them down with antiseptic before bandaging them

“do you think i did a good job?” he asks once the bandages were secured over the grazes. you glared at him. “fine, a good enough job for you to not tell on me…”

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen fluff #svt scenarios #svt fluff #seventeen fic #seventeen reactions #svt fic #svt reactions #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #svt addition #seventeen addition #svt 14th member #seventeen 14th member

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vxmpjules · 11 months

Text

You and Miguel get into an argument and You wanna do anything possible to not think about it.

Not a smut, a part is lightly suggestive not that much idk

You sighed as you already knew Miguel wasn't coming back anytime soon. He was gonna stay in the headquarters, swarming himself with work and putting more stress on his shoulders, just to not deal with the argument.

You knew him, his way of handling things, he ignored them, then he came back without talking about it and everything was back to normal. It was a simple cycle, you were used to it. But the endless nights you spent crying as he left you home alone, without no comfort, you were tired so you decided to take a different approach.

Miguel was at the headquarters, as you had your phone to your ear, talking to one of your girlfriends excitedly. "Call me when you get here" you chimed before hanging the phone up continuing putting your makeup on.

Finishing your makeup, you look at yourself in the mirror and you looked absolutely amazing. You and your girlfriends had planned to go to the club together, this being your coping mechanism for this argument with Miguel, you'd try your best to not think about him.

You already heard honking outside meaning the night had finally begun, applying some perfume before running outside the apartment you and Miguel owned. Locking it quickly and going down the stairs, exiting the building and getting in your girlfriends car

You got to the club and went to the bar to get some drinks. Talking to a random guy that had already bought you half of your drinks, it was pretty evident that the guy was flirting, but you went with it, anything to not think about Miguel. You felt your phone vibrating in your purse, turning it on to see Miguel calling you, which surprised you, maybe he was gonna apologize? Or stop with the stupid silent treatment and come home. But you decided that should just ignore him, like he does to you, so he could feel how you felt.

You turned off your phone and kept talking with the guy, ignoring the phone that was blowing up like crazy. Getting bored from the guy you excused yourself from him and went to floor, dancing to the song, before hearing your ringtone again. With a sigh you went to a corner and picked up.

"Hey, I saw that you've been calling me, I have no service at the club, sorry" you quickly explained with a bitter tone "Donde estás?" Miguel asked, completely ignoring the fact you just mentioned it a second ago, he didn't believe you until he listened closely to the background noise. "I can't hear you I'm kinda busy" you say hurriedly before hanging up on him as you rolled your eyes, the purpose of being here was to get him off your head, not for him to be the main thing on your thoughts right now.

You looked over at the dance floor, seeing your girlfriends calling you over to dance, you quickly rushed over since your favorite song was playing. You started dancing ignoring the phone as Miguel blew up your texts, another call came in, you answered thinking if you answered it he would stop.

"Look, i can't text you with a drink my hand, eh?" You say at the phone, your voice almost not being audible by the loud music. "Why are you at club?" Miguel questioned angrily, his fast breathing being noticible through the speaker. "Shouldn't have left me hanging after the argument Miguel." You retort with a snort, you couldn't with him, not right now.

"Now, I'm kinda busy." You remarked coldly at man before hanging up. Shoving the phone back in your purse, you kept dancing until a fairly attractive guy started dancing with you, you both being dangerously too close. If Miguel where to see this, this mere guy, a stranger with his beloved, he'd turn this guy into dust, right there.

Miguel quickly changed himself and got to the very same club you where at, no way was he gonna let you out there, mad at him and not afraid to do anything. He couldn't let someone else touch you, you were his, and only his.

He entered the club, to be greeted by the sight of you and that guy, being too close even for your own liking. Miguel scoffed at your actions making his way to you, pushing his way through the crowd of dancing strangers.

He finally got to you, shoving the guy away and placing his hands on your hips, as you hadn't notice that he was there.

You felt bigger hands on your hips as a breath left your lips as you felt Miguel's face in your neck. "Almost beat the guy to death" he said calmly in your neck as he caressed your hips slowly. Gradually sinking his fangs into your neck.

"Maybe this way people will know you're mine, mhm? That you have an owner" he whispered in your ear as he turned you over face him. He pulled your chin for you to look up at him, "You had me worried..." He sighed as he looked deep in your eyes with a frown. "I'm sorry for arguing earlier, I'll stop with how i treat you after our arguments, mhm?" He stated with a small smile before kissing you tenderly.

I'm cfyin this is so shit and i love ATSV smmmm give me some asks or sum idc anything

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara smut

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sturn1olo-ffics · 7 months

Text

- VIOLET -

- Matt Sturniolo x Fem Reader (she/her pronouns used)

- Warnings: making out, pining, profanity, use of y/n; NOT PROOFREAD

- About: Reader has a huge crush on Matt but figures the feelings weren’t mutual due to a caption of his on Instagram. That is, until he shows up to her apartment and those thoughts are turned around.

—————————————————————————————

(Y/N’s POV):

I’ve liked Matt for as long as I can remember. And the only person who knows that is Nick. Partially because I told him and partially because he could tell. I mean everyone could tell, right? There were edits of us all over social media shipping us… he had to have known… right?

Wrong.

Matt was the most oblivious person I have ever met in my entire life. You could outright tell him you love him and he still wouldn’t pick up that you have a crush on him.

Matt was my best friend and we told each other everything. Well maybe not everything since I still hadn’t told him about my crush on him.

It was a chilly Friday night in October and I was scrolling through my Instagram feed. I come across a post from a super gorgeous girl that Matt follows with the caption: “The after party”

I didn’t think too much about it, it was just a normal Instagram post. That is, until I came across Matt’s recent post with the caption: “Was on Wilson and 73rd”

The Color Violet by Tory Lanez. One of my favorite songs. Why was he matching captions with this gorgeous girl on Instagram?? Why didn’t he tell me he was talking to someone?? My heart sank into the floor.

“Nick-” I called him, tears slipping out of my eyes on the other side of the phone.

“Hey y/n- what’s wrong??” He could tell by my voice that I was upset.

“Can you just come over?” I replied quickly.

“Let me ask Matt if he can take me. I’ll text you babe.” He ended the call.

I winced a little when Matt’s name left his mouth. Why was I hurting this much? Was this just a crush or something more?

(NICK’s POV):

“Matt! Can you take me to y/n’s house right now? She seems upset and wants me to come over.” I asked Matt.

“Is she okay?? What’s wrong?? What’s going on??” Matt threw way too many questions on me all at once.

“Why the fuck are you questioning so much? With the amount of care you have for her you’d think you were like in love with her or some shit.” I joked.

“Shut the fuck up Nick.” He snapped.

“Woah- Mattitude. You don’t have to get mad, it’s not like you like her or anything.” I stepped back before he could shove me.

“I-” Matt started, but everything clicked in my head.

“WOAHHH WAITTTT DO YOU LIKE HER?” I excitedly raised my voice.

“NICK SHUT UP BRO HOLY FUCK” Matt screamed at me.

“You should tell her.” I giggled.

“Tell her what?” Matt questioned.

“That you like her? What else dumb fuck?” I started grabbing my things.

“Nick it’s not like that- okay maybe it is a little bit but I’m not telling her. Go get in the car.” Matt replied.

I grabbed my stuff and headed towards the car before me and Matt got in and drove to y/n’s.

(Y/N’s POV):

I heard a car pull up and immediately knew it was Nick.

“The front door’s unlocked.” I text him.

After seeing Matt pull off, I hear Nick make his way up the stairs and down the hall to my room.

“What’s wrong? You good?” Nick questioned upon entering my room.

“Dude I literally just saw Matt have a matching Instagram caption with this really really pretty girl and I’m having an anxiety attack which I don’t even know why because it’s not like he even would like me back anyway-” Nick cut me off before I could continue.

“Ok first, breathe exercise, remember? Second, what?” Nick asked, obviously concerned.

I showed him the posts.

“Y/n, babe, her post was an entire day after his was posted. He doesn’t even know her in real life. She probably just copied his caption to make it look like that.” He laughed.

The weight on my chest instantly lifted.

“There is no way I got that worked up over a misunderstanding.” I laughed along with him.

“Also, what makes you think Matt doesn’t like you?” He started interrogating me.

“Girl be for real.” I ran my hands through my hair.

“I am being for real.” He stated.

“He just wouldn’t, I know.” I laughed.

The conversation soon drifted to what our Halloween plans were and what we should do for a Thanksgiving video, ending with Nick leaving my apartment when Laura came to pick him up for a meeting.

That conversation with Nick honestly made me feel relieved, even though it didn’t get rid of my crush on Matt, which I wish would’ve happened.

I had just finished dinner, turned the LED lights in my apartment to a violet color, and pressed play on a Halloween movie when I heard a knock at my door.

“Hey” Matt said breathlessly as I opened the door.

“Matt?” I was so confused.

“Can I come in?” He asked.

“Yeah, of course. It’s chilly out there.” I giggled.

We sat down on the couch before continuing the conversation.

“Y/n I’m gonna get straight to the point. I love you. It’s you. It’s always been you. It always will be. And I know you don’t feel the same but-” I didn’t even let him finished before I spoke.

“Can I kiss you?” The words fell out of my mouth and I was almost embarrassed.

“Please.” Matt responded with a deep breath.

The kiss was passionate and hungry, like we had been parted for years.

His hands made their way to my waist, guiding me closer to him, while my hands roamed his hair.

Breaking away from the kiss, I responded: “I love you too” before tilting my head and deepening it.

After a few minutes, we pulled away and leaned back on the couch.

“Please be my girlfriend.” He begged.

“I thought you’d never ask.” I responded, smiling.

“Wow these purple lights are a really good touch in your apartment.” He laughed.

“Bro I know they’re so cool.” I giggled along with him.

I think I’m gonna keep my LED lights on violet more often.

—————————————————————————————

A/N: On a real note guys I’m so tired so I’m sorry if that was ass. Anyway, thought I’d feed y’all another fic. Peace and love 😗

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artemis32 · 5 months

Text

Duplicity

Dabi / Touya Todoroki x reader (ft. Tomura Shigaraki & Keigo Takami)

****

First fic in yonks, and it's a dark one (seriously. read the warnings)

i have three other fics i'm working on that i'm hoping to have done in the next week or two :))

word count - 7.5k

tw: dark content, noncon / dubcon (mostly noncon), (pseudo) incest??, yandere, threesome, gangbang, vaginal sex, oral sex (both m and f receiving), throat fucking, slapping (not in a sexy way), praise, degradation, they're all pretty mean, voyeurism, choking (not in a sexy way), Dabi is called Touya pretty much the entire fic, and he has a Jacob's ladder, the big dick Shiggy agenda continues, violence, creampie, no protection (wrap it before you tap it kids), chasing, Touya has a thing for tits, some head injury (reader should really have that checked out), Keigo's kinda just there for the vibes tbh

bnha masterlist

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

The mumble is dejected, barely uttered under your breath, and promptly followed by a heavy huff.

Your day had been hell personified, to put it lightly.

A slew of unfortunate events had been what made up your day, bad luck from the moment you’d opened your eyes that morning - late, might I add.

All of your bad luck had culminated into what had probably been the worst day of your life, and to top it all off, you’d been forced to walk home in the rain. Twenty minutes of trudging down a bunch of empty streets saw your already terrible mood plummet, becoming ten times worse.

You’d been looking forward to the day’s end - all you wanted was to get home, for some peace and quiet and whatever leftovers you could find shoved in the back of the fridge.

That’s why, right now, you feel yourself itching with barely concealed irritation.

There, sat far too comfortably on the sofa, was your brother.

Step brother.

As if you’d ever call that waste of space your brother.

Worse still was the fact that he had two of his creep-fest friends with him.

That wasn’t what annoyed you, although you hated that they had decided to spend their time here instead of elsewhere.

No, what annoyed you most was-

“You couldn’t have picked me up? I had to walk in the rain. Twenty minutes Touya!”

He glances over at you, barely registering your words, his attention more focused on the game he’s playing with one of his friends - the blue haired one who has a habit of seemingly undressing you with his eyes everytime you see him.

You shiver in slight disgust as he eyes you up.

“And? How’s that my problem?”

You groan in frustration, kicking off your shoes in the entryway and stomping up the stairs towards your room.

“Fucking stupid, waste of space, dumbass, idiot - I’ll shove that damn controller up your ass.”

You take a deep breath, calming yourself.

It’s fine. This is fine.

After you’ve calmed yourself and changed out of your soaked clothing, you head downstairs again, pausing on the landing to stare out the window.

The rain pelts down in thick sheets, so heavy you can barely see beyond the window.

You preoccupy yourself with grabbing something to eat, shoving a few slices of leftover pizza onto a plate and into the microwave. While it heats up, a thought hits you and you head back to the living room.

“Hey Touya, when’re mom and dad getting home?”

He doesn’t answer. You wait a while, thinking he’s preoccupied.

Still nothing.

You ask again.

“Touya-”

“Fucking hell!” he yells, slamming his hand down on the coffee table.

The screen flashes as his character dies and Shigaraki snickers next to him.

Touya turns to glower at you.

“Stop bothering me.”

You roll your eyes.

“When’s dad getting home?”

He leans back, flicking at the controller as another round starts up. Shigaraki hands his controller over to Keigo, or Hawks as his friends mockingly call him.

“Eh? He’s not coming home. Him and your mom left for a business trip this morning - didn’t they tell you?”

You still.

A business trip?

You hum out a distracted thanks, heading back into the kitchen as the microwave blares. You grab the still-hot plate before heading back up to your room, crawling under the pile of blankets on your bed.

****

You put the thought of your parents and their last minute business trip out of your mind. Instead, you think about other things.

Like the fact that Touya refused to call your mom ‘mom’.

You didn’t blame him, per se. In fact, it was probably better that he didn’t.

It was just strange - Shouto, Fuyumi and Natsuo all called your mom theirs, so it was always jarring to hear Touya call her ‘your mom’, or even worse, by her first name. But it never seemed to bother her, so you never mentioned it.

It wasn’t as if he was even around often enough for it to be a big deal.

Mostly, he stayed with one of his friends, coming home only when no one else was around or if he needed a change of clothes.

It was an arrangement that suited everyone, though your father never seemed to appreciate his son’s flighty nature.

Whatever, it was none of your business.

All you knew was that whenever he was around, he made your life a living hell.

Before your mom had married his dad, you’d never had any siblings, so the only image you had of that type of relationship before was the stuff you’d seen on tv.

Shouto and Natsuo were nice enough, adopting you as their younger sister. You’d joined their family early enough that it felt as if they really were your siblings - you were barely four years old at the time, two years younger than Shouto.

Fuyumi had smothered you in the beginning, coddling and cooing at you like a pet.

Once the novelty had worn off, she’d become somewhat of a normal older sister, though still far more affectionate than what you expected.

Touya though - he avoided you like the plague, at least for the first few years after you’d been forced to live together. Sometime after your tenth birthday though, he’d turned into your own personal tormentor, teasing you like some stereotypical middle school bully, pulling at your hair, tripping you while you walked up the stairs, locking you in the basement if you went down alone to get something out of your dad’s office. Once or twice, he even managed to get you into a headlock, letting up only once you were seconds away from passing out.

It was horrible, and your siblings stepped in wherever they could.

He seemed to lose interest after a while, settling on slinging insults your way whenever he was near. Eventually even that seemed to lose its appeal, and, as of late, he’d gone back to ignoring your very existence, as he had when you’d first met.

It might have hurt your feelings, if you’d had any type of relationship with him. Now, you were just thankful he wasn’t trying to wrestle you to the ground whenever he saw you.

Your musings are cut short by a loud clap of thunder, and you flinch as the windows rattle.

Thunder never bothered you, but the storm seemed to be getting worse, and in the back of your mind, you registered that Shouto still wasn’t home.

You fidget with the blanket on your lap for a few more moments, trying and failing to distract yourself with your phone. You find yourself tapping Shouto’s contact, calling him before you can think twice.

Most of the time, you were concerned your siblings would find you clingy and annoying, as Touya had no problem reminding you, but you cared for them, and that meant you fretted over every little thing.

You pull at a loose thread on your sweater while the line rings, staring vacantly out the window as rain continues to streak down, blurring the view of the garden.

Will it flood? They might have mentioned something on the weather report this morning. I really should start paying more attention.

“Hello?”

You lurch forward. “Shouto? Hey, what’s up?”

He greets you, asking why you called.

“Well, you aren’t home yet and the weather’s looking pretty bad. I just- I was wondering if you’re coming home tonight?”

If you were talking to anyone else, you’d be worried about sounding pathetic - needy.

But it’s your brother. Your older brother who loves you and would never mock you for your concern.

He hums before answering. “Oh, yeah, I forgot to let you know, I’m staying over at Midoriya’s tonight. We have a project to work on and it’s just easier to stay here for the night.”

“Oh,” you say.

There’s a long pause, neither of you saying anything for a long moment.

“Okay, I just- um, wanted to check in.”

You take a deep breath, pulling yourself together.

“Well, have a good night. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He’s about to put the phone down while you scramble to keep him on the line.

“Wait!” you exclaim, “Mom and dad are away on a business trip”

“Yes, I know,” he says evenly.

There ‘s another pause.

“Natsuo should be home soon though - his classes ended about half an hour ago, so you won’t be alone,” he reassures you.

“Okay,” you say, sighing through your nose. “Okay, I- goodnight Sho, see you tomorrow.”

He bids you goodnight once more before ending the call.

You stay still, not moving from your spot for a long moment.

The truth…

The truth was that you weren’t exactly comfortable being alone in the house with Touya. Well, Touya and his friends.

Not that he’d ever done anything beyond bullying you, but - well, you hadn’t been alone with him for more than ten minutes since you were seven years old, and you weren’t eager to try your luck.

Bruises healed, but his scathing words took longer to soothe.

You shake your head.

No.

No, grow up - there’s no need to be so scared. It’s just for one night. And besides, I can just stay in my room and he’ll stay downstairs. Far away from me. And Natsuo will be here. I won’t be alone.

This is fine.

It’s fine.

****

After taking your dishes to the kitchen, you make your way back upstairs and head to the bathroom you and Shouto share, locking the door before stripping and jumping into the shower.

The hot water helps work the knots out of your neck, and you sigh heavily as you stand under the jets of water.

After scrubbing your hair and body, you leave the shower and brush your teeth. Enveloping yourself in a massive towel, you unlock the door and pad over to your bedroom.

A hot shower had unsurprisingly done wonders for your mood, and you felt much better now. Although, a part of you wished you’d properly relaxed and taken a bath instead - you were sure your muscle aches would be a thing of the past if you had.

You stop short in the middle of the hall.

The door is ajar. Your door.

You’d shut it.

Before you went to the bathroom, before you’d gone downstairs to the kitchen, you had shut your door.

Hands shaking, you reach for the handle and push it open.

Nothing.

It’s empty.

You sigh through your nose, closing the door behind you and heading over to your closet.

After changing into your pyjamas - sleep shorts that could just as easily pass as underwear for how short they were, and a ridiculously oversized shirt, stolen from either your father or Natsuo - you head over to the hamper in the corner of your room, dropping your towel into it and-

You let out a strangled sound, and it dies in the back of your throat as you freeze with your hand still outstretched.

Laundry was a chore you kept up to date with at all times, preferring to keep your clothing separate from the rest of your family.

You tended to wash your underwear in a separate load too, so it often took longer to get to.

That being said, you were supposed to do a load today, and there, on top of the full hamper, was a pair of panties.

Your favourite pair.

The lacy white undergarment lay crumpled up, discarded in a hurry. And it was covered in something thick - both creamy and white.

You feel yourself gag.

Anger- No, rage blinds you as you move to the door.

****

You storm downstairs, unthinking as you march into the livingroom and stand with crossed arms in front of the TV, ignoring the indignant yells that follow as both Tomura and Keigo die in the game.

“You’re disgusting.” You spit out, your words venomous and your tone scathing as you keep a tight grip on your soiled underwear.

Touya regards you with a bored, uninterested look, pausing for the briefest moment to eye the panties crumpled in your hand. The two other men take the unprompted disruption as their chance to take a break, Tomura standing up and heading towards the bathroom.

“Hm? Did someone upset the poor sensitive baby?” He asks in a mocking tone, rolling his eyes as he holds out a hand for the controller.

“You and your disgusting degenerate friends are the ones who upset me. Stay out of my room, and keep your goddamn dicks in your pants.” You snap scornfully, glaring down at him.

He pauses, his eyes narrowing as he sits straight and leans forward, his voice dropping an octave as he stares you down intently.

“What?”

You scoff and roll your eyes. “Don’t ‘what’ me, you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Tomura returns from his trip to the bathroom, flopping down on the couch with a grunt as he restarts the game, craning his neck to peer around you at the TV.

“No. I don’t. What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the literal cumstain one of you left on my underwear. Just because none of you have ever felt the touch of a woman doesn’t mean I appreciate you using my underwear to get your rocks off.”

His eyes lighten in amusement at the words, and the smug smirk he wears as he glances at his friends makes your blood boil.

“The kitchen, huh Shiggs? You dirty freak.”

Somehow, you don’t think the words are meant as an insult. The three laugh, ignoring you completely. Keigo even claps the blue haired reprobate on the shoulder in an almost congratulatory gesture.

Rage roars in your ears, and any sense of civility evaporates as you glare at them.

“I’m telling my mom.”

The words, however childish they may be, slip out before you can stop them. It’s all you can think to say at that moment.

Touya pauses, wrinkling his nose in an expression similar to disgust as he scoffs.

“Your mother? Ha, fuck off, I don’t care what she thinks. She’s not my mother. She’s nothing. She’s a brainless bimbo whose only purpose is to spread her legs for my asshat father.”

The words sting more than they should, considering you know they’re not true, and you bite back, uncaring of how you might hurt him as the words spill out of you, trembling hands clenched so tightly your nails dig into your palms, drawing blood.

“Yeah, well, at least she actually loves me. It’s more than you can say for your mother. And at least the rest of the family actually want me around. Fuck, at least Dad looks at me- he’s too disappointed in you to even look at your face.”

Tomura and Keigo’s reactions tell you everything you need to know. You just fucked up. Royally.

The only sound besides the constant battering of rain against the large windows is the sharp intake of breath from Touya’s two friends, and they sit deadstill, staring between the two of you as they wait with bated breath for Touya’s response.

He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t look at you. He doesn’t even move.

The room seems frozen in time. No one moves, no words are spoken to break the silence.

You move. The smallest of steps, a miniscule shuffle to the side, towards the staircase.

It seems that’s all he needed.

Touya is on his feet in an instant, darting towards you, but you’re already making a mad dash for the stairs.

He tackles you down before you’ve even made it halfway, grabbing your ankle and jerking you closer midstep. Your forehead collides painfully with the edge of a step and you let out a pained, strangled whimper.

Much of what Touya tells his friends is lost to the ringing in your head. All you really register is him picking you up, feeling near weightless as he carries you past the living room, his friends’ leering gazes digging into your scalp as the two of you descend into the basement.

Your attempt at wriggling out of his arms is pathetic and half-hearted, and when you try to grab at the door frame to halt his movement, he cruelly twists your wrists, his expression unchanging at your cry of pain.

The last thing you see before the basement door closes is the enraptured gleam in Tomura’s eyes.

****

You weren’t ever really allowed in the basement, not that you had a reason to enter the restricted space.

Regardless, you never wanted to be down there. It was cold, and dark, and it sent a stab of unbridled panic down your spine. It only really contained your father’s old office space and a spare bedroom which had been used as a storage space for the better part of the last twelve years. All in all, it was an empty, forgotten space.

The handful of times you’d been down there never ended well.

And as usual, the problems had to do with Touya.

Always Touya.

He’d locked you down there for hours once, before it had become essentially abandoned.

You’d been five years old, still young and believing the best of him. He’d told you it had been a game of hide-and-seek.

Only, you’d spent the better part of eight hours screaming and sobbing, completely unheard in the soundless backroom of the basement. You’d passed out on the bed sometime after the six hour mark, sleeping soundly until you were found.

Your mother had been in a panic by the time she’d found you, letting out relieved sobs of her own as she scooped you up into her arms and cradled you against her chest soothingly.

Your parents had thought, completely unaware of the truth, that you’d strayed down there alone and managed to lock yourself in. Since that moment, you’d been banned from wandering into the basement by yourself.

Similar things had happened over the years, and unsurprisingly, Touya had been the root cause of many of the problems you’d dealt with.

Presently, he tosses you uncaringly on the bed, scoffing in bored amusement as you scramble over the bed and huddle against the headboard.

Despite your earlier brashness in confronting him, you were terrified. The reality of the situation had set in, and you felt your stomach roil as Touya stared you down with heavy lidded eyes, his gaze contemplative as he scans your half-bare body.

You’d seen that look before, and it made your skin crawl. It terrified you.

It was how Tomura looked at you when he brazenly palmed the bulge in his pants.

How stupid of you, marching downstairs and confronting three grown men, as if you had any chance of winning an argument. You wished you’d had the forethought to at least put on a proper pair of pants.

You swallow thickly, clenching your trembling hands into tight fists as you straighten your spine, attempting to appear calm and unaffected.

“Okay Touya, you’ve made your point. You can stop now, I-I won’t tell anyone.”

It’s an effort to swallow your pride, but you manage the words through gritted teeth, bowing your head as you continue.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry for being, uh- For being mean.”

Touya rolls his eyes as he leans forward and grips your ankle tightly, his palm calloused and warm, pulling you closer in one quick jerk, your ass teetering on the edge of the bed. “Imoto…” he trails off, his tone far too sultry for the situation, caressing the inner side of your ankle with his thumb, stroking the soft skin as he tilts his head, deep in thought.

His grip tightens again, to an almost painful extent, and you suppress a cry as the delicate bones of your ankle groan under the pressure. His voice is cold and condescending as he speaks.

“You’re so stupid.”

You lean further back as he hovers over you, surveying you with flat, emotionless eyes.

“I don’t care that you were mean. Just like I don’t care if you tell anyone. I don’t care if they believe you either. You know why? Because no one will do anything,” he whispers, toying with the hem of your shirt as he regards you with cool indifference.

“I could do anything I wanted, and no one would say a thing. In fact, I will do what I want… Do you know what I want?”

You shake your head, hesitant and silent in your state of panic.

“Aw, imoto, you know you shouldn’t lie to your big brother,” he murmurs patronisingly, gripping the hem of your shirt as he slowly lifts it up, leaving it to rest just above your bare breasts.

His pupils are blown wide as his hand trails down your waist, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“Y’know, you’re pretty grown now, aren't ya? I wonder… Have you let anyone touch you yet?”

He hums to himself, not pressing you for an answer as he continues in a stupor, seemingly unaware of your silent horror. You’re completely frozen, too shocked to move, to speak, to do anything. You can’t even bring yourself to lower your shirt as you listen in abject horror as he continues on.

“I really hope you haven’t. Not that it really matters… Touya-nii will take real good care of you, don’t you worry… It’s about time I treat that bad attitude of yours too.”

You’re frozen in disbelief and fear, completely paralysed as he shoves a leg between yours, keeping them open as he shifts his grip from your ankle to your hips.

The stupor is short-lived, and your struggles renew twofold as he paws at your clothed cunt. There’s a satisfying thwack sound as your foot connects with his jaw, though the sense of victory quickly fizzes out within the long bout of dead silence. Touya tilts his head to the side staring at the wall blankly, and after a few long moments, he moves, slowly facing forward again, rubbing his jaw, seemingly completely ignoring you as he works his jaw.

He huffs, the sound reminiscent of an amused scoff as he looks down at you with rage simmering in his eyes.

“Like I said: You’re so fucking stupid.”

You don’t see the slap coming. All you register is the blurred sight of his arm flying towards you, his numerous rings glinting in the lowlight of the room, and the sudden burn of his backhand striking you across the face. A short, surprised huff is all you can manage, the sharp taste of blood and the stinging pain of rapidly developing welts on your cheek distracting you from reacting.

A trembling palm presses to your tender cheek, and you look up at him with shocked eyes.

“You… hit me.”

He lets out a sardonic laugh, rolling his eyes as he clicks his tongue and caresses your cheek, condescending in his tone.

“Aw, my sweet little sister. You sound so surprised. If I’d known you were such a baby, maybe I’d have taken my rings off for you. Here-”

He pauses, pulling away as he discards his rings haphazardly, turning to frame your face with his calloused palms. His eyes soften slightly as he looks down at you, caressing your tender, reddened cheek for a moment, his fingers lovingly stroking the warm flesh before digging into the fat of your cheeks and his gaze hardens.

The next slap feels worse than the previous, if that’s even possible.

You’re still reeling from the rough strikes, jolting out of your daze as you feel Touya’s palms ghost over the inside of your thighs.

His gaze is focused and razor sharp as he soaks in the sight of your scantily clad core, his palms encasing the tender, soft flesh of your thighs.

Squirming uncomfortably does nothing as he pins your hips down, shifting to kneel on the floor before the bed, yanking you closer and throwing your legs over his shoulders.

Dread drops into your stomach like a stone, making your head spin. As badly as you try to keep them at bay, tears bubble up, dripping down your temples as you sniffle, staring up at the ceiling as you beg.

“Stop– Stop!” You wail panickedly, thrashing beneath him, making no attempts to disguise your sobs. “Stop or I’ll tell Dad!”

He lifts his head from where it was descending between your legs, grinning wickedly at the words.

“Dad? Aw, you sweet, innocent thing. He’d do the exact same thing if he could. Where do you think I get it from, huh?” he says mockingly, condescending as he slaps your cheek lightly before moving back to his previous position, his mouth dangerously close to your centre despite your tightly clenched thighs.

“Come on now, open up for me. It’ll only hurt more if I have to make you.”

A pleading whine is all you can manage as you shake your head, keeping your legs pressed together.

His eyes turn cold at that, all playfulness and teasing leaving him in an instant. He cruelly digs his fingers into the soft flesh of your thighs and huffs in annoyance at your yelp of pain, leaning forward as you jerk your legs apart from the pressure.

A moment later, his warm mouth envelopes your clothed sex.

Your hips jolt, and you gasp in surprise, eyes wide and rounded as you stare down at his bowed head between your legs.

This… This was wrong. So wrong.

Even if you didn’t like him, even if you were loathed to admit it- He was your brother.

Your brother.

“Touya… Stop, please. Please,” you beg quietly, your voice quivering with effort as you reach down to his head, intent on pushing his face away.

You don’t get very far.

His grip is like a vice on your wrist, and he doesn’t look up and he squeezes down painfully, tutting in mock disappointment.

“Did your mother never teach you it’s bad manners to interrupt someone’s meal?” he murmurs, not looking up at you as he massages your hips, hooking his fingers over the hem of your sleep shorts.

It’s torturous. A sick, twisted punishment, the way his focus is wholly dedicated to undressing you.

Shame floods your chest, burning up your neck and over your ears.

He pulls your shorts down, inch by inch until you’re exposed to him, shivering in the cold, stagnant air of the basement. He looks up at you then, regarding you with cool indifference as he kneads the fat of your thighs.

“Itadakimasu,” he purrs softly before descending on you.

A breathy, strangled garble is all you can manage as he licks a smooth, confident stripe up your slit, twirling his tongue lightly around the bud of your clit before returning to your cunt.

His tongue is teasing, punishing as he laps at your core, slurping loudly as if to humiliate you. It works, tears of shame burning your eyes as he pulls away after a few minutes to stare up at you with an appraising eye.

“Someone’s enjoying this, hm? Look at how worked up I’ve got ya…” he hums softly, shifting his hand to rub tight circles on your clit as he stares you down.

“You’re a disgusting whore, getting off on this. Like mother, like daughter, huh?”

The words snap something inside of you, and you decide in that moment, you want to hurt him- kill him. Gouge his eyes out and shove them down his throat.

“I hate you.”

You glower and slap him across the face with as much force as you can muster, not giving him a moment to react as you kick his shoulder, sending him careening back before you jump off the bed, yanking your shirt down in the process.

Though you try to sprint for the door, your relief is short lived.

At least the floor is carpeted here, you think gratefully, sparing your head the aching reverberation as your skull bounces off the ground for the second time that evening.

He wrestles you onto your back, keeping you pinned with frightening ease.

You realise in that moment, he’d been allowing you to put up a fight. Though he seemed somewhat lanky at first glance, his torso and arms were corded with muscles. Muscles he used to keep you restrained beneath him as he ripped off your shirt, tearing through it like paper and leaving you stark naked beneath him. Your struggles had been little more than a game to him, one which he’d played along with all evening.

Screams and pleas fall on deaf ears as he snarls down at you, hatred simmering in his eyes. A thin trail of blood drips down from his cheekbone and onto your bare chest, the scratch on his face red and angry from where you’d struck him.

“I was going to be nice, get you all prepped and ready, maybe even give you an orgasm or two. But you’re such an ungrateful fucking whore,” he spits, wrapping his hand around your throat to quieten your wails.

When you continue struggling, thrashing beneath him with flailing limbs, he lifts you up slightly by your throat before slamming you down, knocking the last of your breath from your lungs.

“Now, here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to punish you for that little stunt just now, and then I’ll let my friends upstairs have their way with you too. It’s the least you could do after you were so rude to them, hm?”

You have no words left. No hateful insults, no pleas, no threats, nothing.

All you can do is cry soundlessly as he unbuckles his belt, the metal clinking as he yanks it off and shoves his pants down his thighs, lining himself up with your mostly unprepped entrance.

He slaps your cheek lightly, shaking your head as you try to dissociate from reality.

“Nuh uh, none of that now. I want you here. Pay attention,” he hisses, gripping your jaw tightly before shifting his palm back down to your neck, his grip bruising and painful.

A pained squeak is all the noise you can manage, clawing at his hand on your throat as his cock shoves into your core.

It’s agonising, painful, feeling him force his way into you, violating you.

His hips jerk forward in short spurts, fighting against the resistance of your unprepared core with every stroke, his Jacob’s ladder rubbing your walls raw with each vicious stoke. Tears dampen your temples, burning your eyes, and you wait for the pain to subside as he pushes in to the hilt and stops with a puff, his breathing evening out after a long moment.

The two of you lay there in silence, and you suck in a shuddering, wheezing breath as he released the column of your throat. His hand travels down your bare body, coming to rest on your pubic bone as he uses his thumb to massage tight circles into your clit.

His ministrations leave your legs quaking, and your orgasm overtakes you without warning, slamming into you like a tidal wave as you whine and arch your back off the ground, begging him in broken babbles to stop.

Your pleas fall on deaf ears, and he seems to double down, grinning cruelly as he continues to flick your swollen clit.

“Come on now, you can give me one more,” he coaxes teasingly.

And you do. You cum again, your walls fluttering around his cock as your eyes roll back in your head.

His fingers stop their tortuous movements while you pant, but you’re not granted a reprieve as he grips your hips, lifting them slightly to position the back of your ass on the top of his thighs. He jerks his hips forward, snickering as you gasp and whine before drawing his hips back and slamming forward.

The movement makes your breasts bounce, and he immediately sets an arduous pace.

You dig your fingertips into the carpet beneath you, clinging onto it for dear life as he fucks his way deeper into you, pressing your thighs to your chest.

The noises you let out are disgraceful, moans and whines that would put a pornstar to shame, but your mind feels blank, empty of all thoughts besides the feeling of his cock filling you up, the mind numbing massage of his piercing against your gummy walls.

Touya isn’t much better off. His bottom lip is caught between his teeth and his brow is furrowed, twitching as he grunts and moans each time he bottoms out inside you, feeling your walls suck him in deeper with each stroke. You’re both covered in a light sheen of sweat, panting heavily and trembling with the exertion, and your cheeks still shine with tears.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs. “My sweet little sister, nothing but a dumb little cumslut. What would everyone say if they could see you now, huh?”

His words are hateful and meant to hurt you, but you can’t think, can’t respond in anything but breathless moans as he pulls you closer and picks up the pace.

“Say thank you. Say ‘thank you big brother for making me cum’. Say it.”

He’s as demanding as ever, tweaking your nipples in punishment when you make no attempt to respond, insead laying dumb and drool covered beneath him.

“Say it,” he orders you.

“T-Thank you- fuck- thank you Touya.”

He scoffs, slapping your tits with an open palm.

“Thank you Touya-nii,” he corrects you, squishing your cheeks together with one palm as he shakes your head back and forth.

“Thank you Touya-nii,” you whine, writhing beneath him.

He rewards you by leaning forward and spitting into your squished open mouth, clamping his palm over your mouth as you gag and try to spit it out.

“Ah ah, swallow.”

You do.

He pats your cheek in a gesture that seems almost loving, shifting his fingers down to your clit once more.

“You wanna cum again? Wanna cum on your big brother’s cock?”

It’s a rhetorical question, he’s already forcing you over the edge for the third time that evening, leaving you a twitching, overstimulated mess beneath him.

"It was me, by the way. I used your underwear- I came to tell you Natsuo wouldn't be home tonight, but instead all I find is some lacy white shit."

He chuckles at your horrified expression, groaning at the feeling of your fluttering walls.

“-’m gonna fill you up,” he grunts to himself, gripping your thighs, digging his nails into the tender flesh as he uses your body.

His words fill you with cold dread, but you don’t have time to interject before he stills with a throaty groan, slumping over you as his cock twitches inside you and warmth floods your belly.

“F-Fuck, so good-” he mumbles into your chest as he presses kisses against your tits, still grinding into you as your walls twitch pathetically around him.

He huffs a spiteful laugh at the whine you let out as he pulls out of you, his cum dribbling out of your spent cunt. He lightly slaps your cunt, smirking as your legs twitch, before he sits back on his haunches and tucks his now limp dick back in his pants.

“Up. Get on the bed.”

Your mind, somewhat coherent once more, is in a frenzy.

What the fuck had you just done.

This was wrong. So, so wrong.

What would your parents say? What would your siblings say?

Oh God, if they saw this, saw you…

You feel sick, your stomach roiling as you sit up, shoulders shaking with cold realisation.

Another harsh slap to the face pulls you out of your panicked reverie.

Touya looms above you with cold eyes and an unimpressed expression.

“Get on the fucking bed. Right now. We’re not done here.”

You know by now that fighting is useless. He was so much bigger and stronger than you, so easily able to subdue you. Not to mention the other two men upstairs-

No. Please no.

But your suspicions are confirmed as Touya walks to the door and leaves the room, coming back a moment later with his two friends in tow and a cruel smirk on his face, tutting mockingly at the anguish on your face.

“I did warn you. You have to apologise for your bad manners. Come on sweetie, be a good girl for them, yeah?”

None of them wait for a response, both Keigo and Tomura pulling their aching, leaking cocks from their pants as they hover above you, leering down like a pack of hyenas.

Touya doesn’t slap you when you try to dissociate this time, content to let his friends use you while he lounges in the armchair in the corner of the room, watching with a disinterested expression. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he seemed bored.

Keigo seems to have some sick fascination with your mouth, shoving his cock down your throat without warning or preparation and letting out a throaty moan as your throat convulses around him.

His palm remains locked around your neck, watching with rapt attention as your throat works awkwardly around the thick intrusion.

You’re almost thankful for the distraction of his cock, for the way Touya had stretched you out minutes prior, when you see the length bobbing between Tomura’s legs.

How it was possible for someone to be that big, you didn’t want to know.

Your eyes remain transfixed in muted panic on the monstrous member as Tomura makes his way around the bed, propping you up on your knees before he spits on your cunt.

The feeling of a fat glob of spit hitting your entrance and sliding down the length of your slit makes you cringe, shivering in disgust at his actions. You’re not given a moment's warning before you feel the fat head of his cock rubbing against your entrance, trying to pry its way into your tight heat.

A panicked, muffled garble escapes you as you jerk forward, only serving to fit more of Keigo’s length down your throat in your attempt of escape.

Tomura lets out a hiss of displeasure, digging his fingertips into the fat of your hips as he jerks you back towards him, forcing the head of his cock into your pussy.

It hurts, you want to say. It won’t fit, please.

But you can’t. All you can do is choke down gags and sobs as Tomura rips through you. Everytime you think he’s bottomed out, he just keeps going. He keeps going until it feels like he’s pushed through your cervix, until he sits snugly in your stomach.

He doesn’t give you a chance to catch your breath, doesn’t grant you the smallest of breaks like Touya did. Instead, he immediately sets a harsh, forceful pace, and each stroke feels like a punch to the gut.

From his spot in the corner of the room, Touya lets out a low whistle, leaning forward with his forearms resting on his knees.

“Look at ya. You’re loving this, aren’t ya? Hm, if I’d have known being dicked down was all you needed to shut up, I’d have done it ages ago.”

His words flow in one ear and out the other, your sole focus on not choking around Keigo’s length as he bottoms out and keeps you pinned in place with his palm planted on the back of your head.

As much as you try to ignore it, his throaty, vocal moans make your core clench around Tomura who scoffs. “You were right, she really is a whore. I can feel her sucking me in.” Touya only hums in response, watching now with an almost enthralled expression as his two friends plough into you simultaneously. “You probably love this, hah? Dumb little slut.”

The swat he places on your ass leaves a stinging red welt on the smooth flesh.

You’re too lost in the unwanted pleasure to even think about responding. You let your mind wander elsewhere, losing yourself in the toe curling sensation of Tomura’s dick rubbing up against your walls, filling you completely.

Maybe if you pretend it’s someone else, anyone else-

You cum so hard you black out for a moment, losing any and all sensation in your hands and feet as your limbs fill with a strange fuzzy feeling. Your orgasm was so sudden, so unexpected and all-consuming that you struggle to keep yourself conscious and up on all fours, arms and legs trembling as Tomura whines through his teeth.

Keigo grips your hair at the roots, bringing your attention back to his cock as he moans, tilting his head back and flooding your throat with his cum without warning.

He tuts, pulling out of your mouth with a sigh and tapping your chin with his fingers.

“Be a big girl and swallow now, will ya?”

You wince, grimacing as you swallow down his thick, salty seed.

His smirk is devious as he pats your cheek, zipping up his pants and walking over to Touya. He leans down and whispers something in his ear, though their conversation is lost to you as Tomura flattens your chest against the mattress and picks up his pace.

You can’t stop your tongue from lolling out your mouth as he rails into you, your drool forming a puddle beneath you, soaking into the cream duvet. All you can manage is breathless, whiny moans - the only sound in the room besides his own grunts, the slick pattering of your cunt, and the banging of the headboard against the wall.

The thick duvet lays twisted beneath your fingers, and you cling to it desperately as Tomura pants above you like a dog in heat, using your cunt like some glorified fleshlight.

By the time Tomura finishes inside you, you’ve climaxed twice more. He collapses on your back, breathless as he licks a stripe up the ridges of your sweaty spine.

You’re too exhausted to even whine or wrinkle your nose in disgust. It’s all you can do to fight from passing out, puffing from the exertion.

Goosebumps cover you as the sweat cools on your skin, leaving you shivering and sticky.

Touya approaches the bed, murmuring something to Tomura, who grumbles and gets off of you with a grunt before ambling out of the room.

Once only the two of you are left in the thin silence, Touya speaks. His voice is little more than a low murmur as he crouches down next to you, softly brushing the sweaty strands of hair off your face.

“You look so pretty like this. All vulnerable and used… I hope you know how this changes things. You’re mine now. All mine.”

The sentiment makes your stomach curl. If he sees the cold dread on your exhausted face, he doesn’t comment on it, instead pressing a soft, small kiss to your temple.

“Come on, I’ll carry you to your room.”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, lifting you off the bed with ease before leaving the basement and making his way through the house, to your room. The sight of the soft, baby pink walls feel surreal after the past few hours. You feel as if you’re violating the clean, pure space of your bedroom, soiling the sheets as Touya sets you down on your bed.

He bustles around your room, grabbing another sleep shirt and tossing it your way before coming to settle down beside you on your bed. You make no move to put on the shirt.

You don’t do much of anything but stare blankly at the wall opposite your bed.

Touya hums softly, stroking your hair.

“Ya not gonna say anything?”

There’s a pause.

“Huh. Okay then… I think you’ll move in with me. Well, Tomura and me, that is. It’s a nice place, you’ll like it.”

Again, a pause. He seems to be waiting for a reaction, a change in facial expression, something.

…

Nothing.

He sighs heavily.

“Come on, don’t be like that. It’s not as if you didn’t enjoy it. You’re lucky it was storming outside and no one’s home. I’m sure the entire neighbourhood would’ve heard you moaning like a whore.”

It’s a jibe, one meant to get a rise out of you.

Nothing.

“...whatever. You’ll come around sooner or later, hah?” he hums, ruffling your hair.

He stands and stretches, seeming to contemplate something for a moment before he sighs again, covering you with a blanket and leaving your room without another word.

Only once the door clicks shut, do you allow yourself to cry, your small sniffles muffled by your pillow.

Despite your fear, your strained emotions, the ache between your thighs and in your jaw…

You fall asleep, curled up in a tight ball beneath a pile of blankets.

Unconsciousness welcomes you with open arms, and you pray that you stay asleep indefinitely, not wanting to wake up and deal with what had happened.

You dream of shadowy figures, larger and faster than you, with glinting silver jewellery and cruel smirks, all looming over you.

And when you wake up hours later, you awake all your belongings packed up in cardboard boxes, and to Touya next to you in bed, his fingers pumping in and out of your core, his other palm massaging your breast.

He nips at your ear, smirking against your neck. "Morning imoto..."

319 notes · View notes

phthalomushroom · 2 months

Text

The Family (5)

last next

pairings: modern!mafia!aemondxreader

summary: You had left Kings Landing and the Targaryen family four years ago. Now back and living with your old roommate you realize that the life you had thought you escaped had seemingly been waiting for you. But will the family really let you go? Will the people you left behind forgive you? Can you forget the past and look to the future?

warnings: language, mentions of trauma, stalking, mention of injury

word count: 1.8K

note: I am so sorry for the late post, the words were just not wording and I needed more time to figure out what I wanted to be said. But I finished this chapter and I hope you all enjoy!

Baela and you had split up only a couple of hours ago. She had gotten a call and had needed to leave right away. You had asked what was going on but she assured you everything was fine before leaving.

You still had some errands to do, which lead you across the city to the East side. By the time you finished it had gotten pretty late. Most of the stores were closed and the taxi services were no longer in commission. You looked at your phone to see when the next train was, seeing that you needed to make it fifteen blocks in order to catch the last train for the red line. You began walking, taking in the cool evening air when you had an odd, gut feeling that something wasn’t right.

The streets were a little too quiet, which was never the case during this time. Usually there would be groups of people out walking, people on their balconies laughing but tonight there was just…quiet. You took a look over your shoulder to try and ease your thoughts only to see the man Daemon had mentioned earlier following you.

You looked forward, picking up the pace as you turned the corner. You thought that maybe it was a coincidence but that would be impossible. There were no coincidences in this city, you of all people should know that.

You were made keenly aware that you were nowhere near your apartment nor the train station and there was no way you were going to end up in a subway possibly cornered. You were up on the East side, a side that you didn’t venture much on your own, meaning you were very unfamiliar with it. This was supposed to be a safe part of the city since the rich and high class lived here, there was no way something would happen to you.

Clearly not, as the footsteps behind you got louder, making you instinctually speed up.

This shouldn’t be happening, Daemon should have intervened by now. Unless that whole conversation was just to get under your skin, to throw you off.

What a prick.

However as much as Daemon was a prick you weren’t willing to find out if he was a liar.

You had grabbed your mace out of your bag, your body going into autopilot as your senses tried to assess how close this man was getting to you. You took a turn ending up on a familiar cobblestone street and realized exactly where you could go. You turned down another corner, heading for the brownstone at the end of the street.

You took the stairs two at a time, repeatedly knocking on the door quickly as you watched from the corner of your eye as the man continued to approach.

The heavy wooden door opened to reveal a shirtless and very confused Aemond Targaryen.

“What-”

You wrapped your arms around him, pushing your way inside as you pushed him up against the wall and out of view of the street, kicking the door shut. You peaked through the side window, moving the curtain to see the man that was following you get picked up by a black Audi before speeding away.

“Happy to see you too.”

You looked up to see Aemond smirking at you. You quickly pulled away, taking a couple steps back as you shoved your mace back in your bag. “Your guard dog take the night off?”

Aemond’s eyebrows furrowed, noting what was just in your hand. “Huh?”

“Someone was following me. I thought Daemon was on protection detail.”

His face twisted before he grabbed your hand, taking you up the stairs of the foyer and into the kitchen. He grabbed his phone off the kitchen island.

He started scrolling through contacts. “Help yourself to anything you want, I have to make a call.”

“I think I’ll just go-”

“Sit.”

You instinctively took a seat at the island, watching him walk around the corner to where his office was. You rolled your eyes at yourself, right back here and right back into your old ways.

You set your shopping bags on the ground and put your coat over your chair heading over to the oven where something was simmering. It looked like Aemond had just finished making some mac n’ cheese.

He did say help yourself.

You grabbed a bowl from the shelf and supplied some golden crescents to your bowl. You had just sat down and taken a forkful to your mouth when Aemond came back in, with a shirt on, as he tied up his hair into a low bun.

He looked kinda pretty as a few of the shorter strands framed his face.

He smirked, noting you had been staring. “Eating my food already.”

You blinked, looking away. “You said help yourself.”

“Indeed I did.” He grabbed a bowl, joining you across the island.

It was silent for a while, both of you eating your portions. It felt… normal. Like old times, a chill went down your spine at that. You needed to change that.

“Everything okay?”

Aemond’s face darkened. “It will be.”

“Is Daemon-”

“He’s being taken care of by the family doctor.”

You nodded. “The same one who stitched me up?”

His eyes met yours before quickly looking at the counter, he cleared his throat. “Yeah.”

You put your fork down, sitting back in your chair crossing your arms. “I’m going to need an explanation.”

He mirrored your stance, leaning back against the counter. “I don’t think that's a good idea.”

You started getting up. “Then I’m leaving.”

“No.” He reached over the counter to grab your hand.

You looked up at him. “You were a real asshole the last time we spoke, you know that right?”

He let out a sigh, letting your hand go. “I know. I… I didn’t expect to see you and I was drunk.”

“You never acted like that while you were drunk before.”

“That’s because I dated you.”

You felt your face heat up at that. “Maybe you shouldn’t make it a habit. You're a bit of a mean drunk.”

He let out a small chuckle. “I wasn’t that bad.”

“You were rude.”

“I was flirting.”

“You’re engaged.”

He frowned. “I know.”

“We’re going to have to talk about it. At least to make peace.”

His eyes softened. “I-I can’t.”

You moved to grab your stuff as you made your way to the door. More secrets, more difficulties. You needed the whole truth or nothing and you were beginning to grow tired of being the only one who wanted to have a peaceful life.

“It’s the Lannisters.”

Your feet stopped moving, you almost dropped your things. You slowly turned towards him. “You said they were gone.”

“They were but- but things got complicated. I am going to take care of it.”

“What happened, Aemond?”

“You came back, you weren’t supposed to come back and then everything got more complicated and then Alys-”

“Slow down.” You couldn’t make sense of anything he was trying to say.

He was breathing quickly and his words were beginning to jumble to the point where understanding him was impossible. Tears looked like they were ready to spill from his eyes. You dropped your stuff, walking over to him and taking his face in your hands.

You forced him to look at you. “Breathe, Aemond.”

You moved your hands down so they were rubbing up and down his arms. “You need to breathe.”

He leaned forward, putting his forehead against yours, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

Then another.

You closed your eyes, leaning into him and the familiar sage scent that he got from using his body wash. Despite the years, despite the pain, despite everything you still missed him. He was your everything when you were a teen, he was the only family you had at one point and now, being this close to him, you wondered how you had gone so long without him.

But he was engaged, and as much as you wanted to be selfish you just couldn’t do it.

You pulled away, taking a step back from him. “The Lannisters are back?”

He seemed disappointed.

He nodded, rubbing his face. “They’ve been back for a couple months now.”

“You should have told me.”

He shook his head. “No, I don’t want you involved in this again.”

“Aemond I am involved in this, I mean I was being followed home. Daemon got hurt. It’s like five years ago all over again.”

“No it's not.” He came towards you taking your hands and rubbing his thumb in a circle on the back of your hand. “I’m not going to let that night happen again. I’m not gonna lose you, do you understand me?”

He was looking intensely into your eyes, then his gaze moved to your lips. You hadn’t realized he had gotten so close.

“Aemond.” You breathed. Your head began to spin as if you were drunk, your thoughts going quiet as your body started to move closer to his as if you were magnets destined to meet again.

“I’ve missed you so much.” He leaned down, his breath fanning your face.

“Aemond.” The noise you made was a mixture of a whimper and a plea as Aemond leaned closer meeting your lips with his.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer as his tongue invaded your mouth. You snaked your hands up into his hair, pulling the strands from the bun he wore. He moaned, pulling you impossibly closer as he nipped your lower lip. You felt like you were on fire, as your teeth clashed, the kiss becoming more hungry.

More desperate.

Suddenly his phone rang, causing the two of you to jump apart, finally being brought back to reality. He took his phone out of his back pocket, glancing at the caller ID.

“I have to take this.”

You nodded.

“You aren’t leaving tonight,” he said. “You can stay in my room, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Don’t you still have a guest room?”

His face turned red. “Not anymore.”

He turned, heading towards his office as he answered his phone, closing the door behind him.

You made your way upstairs, heading past where you remembered the guest room to be. Against your better judgment you peered inside to see the room that used to house a queen sized bed now be filled with boxes of all kinds of things.

You crept inside, looking into one of the closer boxes. You knew you shouldn't be snooping but after everything that happened tonight you thought fuck it.

You reached into one of the opened boxes pulling out a small onesie. One that was meant for a baby.

Your heart felt like it shattered.

Yeah, maybe you should have minded your business.

Tag List: @dixie-elocin @liannafae @toodlesxcuddles @watercolorskyy @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @namelesslosers @tssf-imagines @xcharlottemikaelsonx @yourbane @beary-rambles @a-beaverhausen @lightblindingme

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januaryembrs · 1 month

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SUCH A PRETTY HOUSE | Joel Miller x Reader

request: Can you do Joel miller x reader no surprises by radio head angst fic

description: Joel remembers that one summer he knew her, and the ten year scar it left him.

word count: 1.6k

warnings: Pregnant!Reader, major character death (canon to TLOU and also reader dies, not explicit,), guns, death, violence. Joel feels unworthy, mentions of Sarah.

authors notes: em tries not to write something heart wrenching challenge, go.

There weren’t many things that meant something to Joel anymore. The day cordyceps took over the world, it took almost everything in him with it. Whatever was left made room for anger and resentment to curl inside him, make its home in his bones, make him lash out at everyone who wasn’t Tess.

But he felt himself make an exception the day he met her.

He’d been entirely sceptical when Tess told him she’d been able to find someone on a radio channel who could help them with supplies. It would mean sneaking out of QZ, a dumb move even on a good day, and trusting a stranger that was all but promising them candy if they climbed into his van. He wasn’t a stupid man, not by any means. But Tess had this way of bending his resolve, pushing him further and further if it meant they could come out better in the end.

When they’d arrived to Frank and Bill’s for the first time, they were gobsmacked to see an entire street of houses cordoned off with barbed wire and explosives, as if it had never been touched by cordyceps, as if they’d catapulted into a time before people were eaten alive and before the world ended. A quaint little town with dusty cars and clean streets and houses and empty shops and gardens full of wildflowers and strawberries.

Joel felt like he might be sick, but perhaps that was something between jealousy and caution just playing on his tongue.

A spritely man a little older than him bounded down the stairs to the first house on the left, piercing blue eyes looking over them with the same excitement of a puppy being told to play fetch. There was no way a man so jolly could have done all of this himself.

“Tess?” He called, and Joel remembered the way Tess smiled sweetly, because she was just as stunned as he was that they were in some sort of utopia, a little fence and a gate the only thing between them and how things used to be.

“It’s Frank, right?” She guessed, and it was then that Joel heard the caution, “Didn’t you say there was two of you?”

“Yes, Bill, my-” He stopped himself short, as if he didn’t quite know what to call him. He breezed over the hesitation quickly, buzzing in on the remote the combination, looking then to Joel, “You must be Joel,”

Joel gave him a nod, his fingers tightening on the shotgun in his hand. It wasn’t even a split second after the gate started to slide open that another man emerged from the house, his face thunderous as he barrelled down the stairs and towards where they stood.

“Frank, didn’t I tell you to wait,” He snapped, his brows strained into a frown, a gun of his own in his palms, “We need to make sure she’s ready, they could be infected-”

“She?” Joel cut in it a biting tone of his own, “Who’s she? You said there was two-”

“Bill,” Frank warned, as the shorter man produced a scanner out of his pocket and ran it over both of their necks. Joel knew this Bill could feel the heat of his glare on the side of his head, though as soon as the screen lit up green for both of them, he saw him take a sigh of relief. “We’re never going to make any more friends if you keep shoving them away,”

Joel couldn’t really blame him for worrying.

It wasn’t until they saw the door opposite theirs swing open that he understood even more why Bill was so unwelcoming.

He should have seen it before, the sweet hanging baskets full of lupines and primrose, the luscious lawn trimmed and primped, lined with tended bluebonnets and sunflowers beaming at the woman that emerged from the fresh white house with a bright grin, like she was their sun and they smiled back at her in awe.

She wore a white sundress, long enough to touch her knees, and it flowed with the warm breeze as they stepped past the threshold to the town, her feet bare save for some little brown sandals that seemed in better condition than he’d expect. Her face glowed with excitement, gaze switching between him and Tess, and her figure was full and soft at the same time.

It wasn’t until she got closer he could see where her stomach pulled against the fabric obtusely and it was like a sadness washed over the two of them as she finally got close enough to talk.

She was pregnant.

“You must be Tessa! Frank told me all about you,” She said, pulling the woman in for a warm hug Tess didn’t seem to have much of a choice in.

“It’s Tess,” His companion corrected, though she gave her a light squeeze back, and her face softened out as if she didn’t seem to mind the intrusion, nor the new name.

Bill froze up at the sight of her tugging Joel closer the minute she'd released Tess, ignoring every boundary his standoffish expression could possibly set, and it was like he understood why the flowers twinkled up at her. She was warm, incredibly so to the point even when he didn’t return the gesture, he felt himself conscious of how rough his skin was and how hard the gun must have been pressing against her chest where it squished in between them and how he hoped to god it wasn’t hurting her or the baby.

He felt cruel the minute she pulled away, crueller than he usually felt, but his frown never wavered, not even when she simpered at him, despite Bill saying her name in a worried tone.

“Just ignore him, he would bubble wrap me if he could,” She whispered to Joel, and her laugh was a tinkling bell in the wind. She grabbed Tess’s hand in a quick and gentle motion, walking her up the pathway back to her house, and Joel could have sworn he heard the promise of ice tea leave her lips.

“I’m so pleased to have another woman around,” She said to Tess, who looked as if she was fighting back a feathery happiness of her own around the woman who seemed too good to be true in a world so harsh as this one.

Joel knew he would have his work cut out for him trying not to get attached.

Ellie knew she was on thin ice already. For a girl of only fourteen, she was incredibly perceptive of people’s feelings, especially the grumpy, grey haired bastard that had just lost perhaps the only woman who meant anything to him. She had to admit Tess’s death made her feel like she was some sort of unlucky charm, like anyone who so much as got close to her was doomed from the word ‘go’.

She hated herself for it, and she assumed from Joel’s silence and the way he’d stormed out of Bill and Frank’s house as soon as she’d read that letter that he hated her too.

That was until she saw him walking across the street to the house with dead flower beds and smashed windows and no sign of life that she thought perhaps she wasn’t entirely the problem.

She found him in the bedroom, laying on the double mattress with his eyes closed, though she knew he wasn’t sleeping. The walls were a pretty sort of posy pink, the sheets an intricate pattern of doves and white lilies, and a little painting on the nightstand of two women smiling at one another, one so clearly being Tess while the other remained an enigma.

It wasn’t until she spotted the cradle next to the bed that her heart sank into her stomach.

“Bill and Frank weren’t the first ones to die, were they?” Ellie asked softly, and he shook his head wordlessly, “Was it yours? The…” The baby.

She couldn’t bring herself to say it. She wouldn’t put it past him to yell at her for prying.

He lay there like a wounded animal, and he shocked her when he actually spoke.

“It wasn’t mine,” His voice was gravelly, hardened, yet worn out all the same, “But we were going to-” He stopped for a moment, taking a deep breath, “We were going to raise it together, the two of us. Tess was supposed to be godmother,”

He remembered the way she used to call her Tessa, and how Tess didn’t seem to mind it so much once she saw how truly sickly sweet she was to her core, and how she said it so full of love, the way you could only love your best friend. He remembered how he kissed her, a few months after that first time he’d seen her, how he’d kissed her and pulled her close and how they’d slept in that room together, and how he’d promised her everything was going to be okay because he was going to protect her and that baby.

Joel remembered thinking that was his second chance. How he knew it wouldn’t bring Sarah back, nothing could ever, but maybe his sweet girl and that baby would be his chance to prove that he could save someone, that he could do some good.

“What happened? Where’s the baby?” Ellie asked too intrusively, hoping he didn’t shut her out entirely after this, but she had to know. She had to know who the pretty woman in the picture was, and why Tess, even the little splotch of paint she was now, looked at her so besotted that Ellie had to have answers now. She had to know why they had never spoken about her and why Joel seemed to be giving up on her now. Like Tess had pushed him over the edge of a sadness years in the making.

She didn’t think he would reply, but then; “One night, raiders came while me and Tess were getting her supplies from the city. Few weeks before she was due.” She heard his voice deepen into something dark and angry, “She didn’t stand a chance.”

And Ellie never brought her up again after that day, only once to ask her name, and neither did Joel. He left his sweet girl and whatever he could have been in that pretty house, put her in a box in his chest right next to Sarah, until it didn’t hurt so much to think about her.

#Joel miller x reader #Joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x pregnant reader #Pedro pascal x reader #Pedro pascal fanfiction #the last of us imagine #the last of us x reader

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crackedpumpkin · 2 months

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𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬 | 𝟎𝟐 |

[ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 ] | [ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ] | [ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law.”

“It’s a charity auction, not my judgement day.” You point out, smirking at your dad who’s adjusting his wig after sternly pointing a gavel at you. “Besides, I didn’t know that it was themed.”

“Maybe you should be the judge instead,” He says with a sarcastic scoff, handing over the gavel, “Put those skills to use.”

You bang the gavel against the wooden table, shaking your head disapprovingly at him. “I sentence you to a lifetime of being unable to make lame dad jokes.”

“Anything but that!” He gasps, collapsing to his knees in horror. “Give me mercy!”

“You know what to do.” You hold out your hand, gesturing for him to hand it over. He reluctantly takes out a fifty dollar bill from the pocket of his robe, slipping it into your palm discreetly with a handshake. You nod in approval, handing him back the gavel. “You have been pardoned.”

“Are you ready for the event yet?”

“Yeah, I’m going as a Musketeer.” You hold up your sword, lazily uncrossing your legs where they’re placed on the coffee table. “En garde, my good man.” He chuckles at that, pretending to be defeated when you pretend to stab his side. He falls to the couch with a cry, smothering you with his entire body.

You gasp in surprise, only to get the air knocked out of you when he rolls over. “Get off me!” You demand, shoving him off playfully. He obliges with a cheeky smile, sitting next to you with dishevelled hair.

“Right.” His phone chimes with a text. He skims over it quickly, getting up from the sofa and grabbing his gavel from the coffee table. “C’mon, Emily’s waiting for us at the museum. Her autograph session should be ending soon.”

Your fingers close around the sheath of the sword, hooking it onto your waist. Hopefully, no one would question why you had a real sword with you at a formal masquerade. Oh well, go big or go home, you suppose.

The car ride is peaceful enough in the beginning, but tension starts to rise when you approach the entrance of the museum. The majority of the ride was spent on the phone with Melody, texting back and forth about how excited she was to finally get the ninja's autograph, and how her date had gone.

The car slows to a halt, and you spot a plethora of reporters all crowded around a woman in a simple, yet suave black suit and a bejewelled black mask adorned with small crystals. Her hair is done into an impeccable ponytail, and a briefcase is placed on the table where she’s busy signing autographs.

“A judge and a lawyer…?” You turn to your dad who has a sheepish smile on his lips after adorning his identical mask. “Very cute.” You remark sarcastically. The mask you’d taken out moments earlier feels cold in your hands, your thumb stroking the glittering red rubies that line the eye area.

He simply shrugs. “You ready?” He gives you a moment to put on your mask before opening the door and stepping out. You hesitate briefly, glancing down at the sword. Nothing would happen, you decide, closing the car door behind you.

You go up the stairs together, making sure that no one accidentally steps on the hem of your cape. Luckily, you escaped unscathed. Emily spots you approaching, standing up with a bright smile. She holds her hands out to greet you, and you reluctantly let her take yours when your dad shoots you a look, gesturing to the reporters who swarm around you both.

“I’m so happy you could make it! You look stunning. I’m guessing a Musketeer?” She asks though the knowing glance directed at her husband reveals the fact that he’d already informed her of your costume before arriving.

“Thanks. You look…good too.” It’s hard for a compliment to not sound sincere when it’s about her. No one can deny how pretty she is. Maybe that’s one of the factors why your dad had fallen for her in the first place. You retreat your hands after, starting to feel uncomfortable being under the scrutiny of all the cameras.

Emily chuckles, accepting it gracefully. She looks at the line at her table filled with fans, seemingly realising how many more autographs she’ll have to sign. “You must be hungry. I’ll meet you inside after I’m done?”

Your dad wraps an arm around her shoulder, giving her a chaste kiss that makes you roll your eyes. “I’ll stay here. Why don’t you go mingle around? Maybe you’ll meet some new people from your school,” He says encouragingly.

You merely shrug, turning to leave. The entrance of the museum is decorated lavishly with an arch covered in fairy lights. Various guests enter with partners and some without. They’re all dressed to the nines, of course, and you even spot a well-known reporter lounging on the side with a wine glass in hand.

You avoid most of the crowds, choosing to sit down in a space near the back where a bunch of comfortable chairs are. The spread of goodies and pastries does catch your eye, focused on the tantalising pan au chocolates that rest on the left of the table. A chandelier adorns the centre of the room, the light reflecting off of it in glittering beams.

They went all out for this event. After all with such public figures gracing it with their presence, how could they not? You stare curiously at a hallway to your left, intrigued by some of the exhibitions you can see inside. Was that a dinosaur skeleton at the end?

You’d be sure to check it out after you’d gotten ahold of some of those delectable pastries, though. As you approach the table, you become aware of some of the whispers in the room growing louder. Luckily, there’s still some form of security at the doorway, poised to take action just in case anything happens.

As you move for the pan au chocolate, another hand reaches over and grabs the exact one you’ve been eyeing.

What the fu-

Your lips part, about to protest. The words die at the tip of your tongue when you see exactly who’s the person beside you. He looks familiar, well-built and impeccably dressed. You’re not sure exactly where you’ve seen him before, but there’s just something about him you recognise.

Maybe it’s his hair or his outfit? His shoes…?

You watch the stranger dressed as a… actually, you’re not sure what he’s dressed as. Either way, he takes a huge bite from the pastry in his hand, humming in content. He’s wearing a simple suit, but his mask is decorated rather simply. His sigh of satisfaction amuses you, letting a slow smile spread across your lips and all of your shock from his sudden appearance (and taking away the beloved pastry of course), fades away.

He freezes when he registers you staring at the half-eaten pastry in his hands, glancing between it and you. “Were you gonna take this?” He asks sheepishly, gradually lowering it back down onto his plate with a guilty smile.

You wave it off, take another and put it on your empty plate. “It’s fine. It’s just a pastry.”

Doesn’t hurt that he’s kinda cute either.

He chuckles. The melodious sound makes your breath hitch, looking away to take a bite, and chewing thoughtfully. “This is good. I wonder which company they got it from.”

“Oh, I know! It’s Papa’s Cakeria. You see, their butter has a really sweet aftertaste, and their chocolates are sourced organically, which is why it’s so clean and not overly sweet. Their cupcakes are really good too, but that’s in another store-” He cuts off his ramble when he notices the amused grin on your face, clearing his throat and taking another bite of his pastry.

You notice the flush on his cheeks, deciding to do him the favour of remaining oblivious to it. “I take it you’re a fan of their store?”

“I’ve tried a few things here and there.” He polishes off his pastry in a few more quick bites, reaching for a slice of chocolate cake next. “The thing about Papa’s though, is that they make their stuff to order, so you always have to order in advance.”

“Dang, so I can’t just waltz in and grab one?” You frown, disappointed by this piece of news. “Maybe I should find some Tupperware or something…” You mumble, though he seems to overhear. He clears his throat, taking out his phone and showing you the screen.

“This is their website. You should order at least two days in advance though, so you can secure a spot. I know the owners, so I can help you speed up a pastry or two if you ever need it.” He offers. You quickly take a picture with a delighted smile, pocketing your phone happily.

“Thanks, I’d appreciate that. I’ll be sure not to abuse the privilege, though.” You say warmly, your joking words drawing a laugh out of him.

He shakes his head in amusement. “Anything for a fellow pastry-lover.”

“So, what’s your name?”

He pauses a forkful of cake halfway to his mouth. “My name’s Cole.”

Oh?

Wasn’t the guy at the comic book store also named Cole? The very guy who coincidentally turned out to be your soulmate? But the man standing in front of you now is completely different from his frigid, cold and angsty demeanour.

However, his eyes glint with the same gold tint when the light reflects off of them, and although his hair is styled a little differently, his wavy strands are still the same. The only thing different is his outfit and his attitude.

“Hold on.” You place the plate down, taking a moment to gather yourself. The complete overturn of his brash attitude toward you yesterday is a stark contrast to his current one. The drastic difference gives you whiplash, even mistaking him for a gentleman. “You’re sure your name is Cole?”

“I’m pretty sure,” He chuckles, nonchalantly continuing to munch on his cake. Your hand subconsciously grips the hilt of your sword, fight or flight instinct creeping up on you. You didn’t want to feel as powerless as you did last time when he’d forcefully dragged you into that alleyway. That’s not how your mother raised you.

His curious eyes signal another unsaid question. Before he can ask it, however, a calm, yet friendly voice interrupts.

“Cole! Where were you? We’ve been looking everywhere for you.” A man dressed similarly as Cole asks worriedly, making his way over. He notices you, glancing at Cole who stares back just as cluelessly. “And who is this?”

“She was just about to tell me.” Cole shrugs.

The presence of his relaxed and soothing voice does ease your nerves a little, letting go of the hilt. You take another moment to compose yourself before saying your name. So much for not seeing each other ever again. You’re not sure if it’s fate or luck, but either way, you’d be sure to not let him realise now that you’re his soulmate.

Now that you’ve regained your composure, though, you realise one fundamentally wrong with the picture-perfect scene in front of you of the two boys chatting with each other.

One of them has metal as skin.

You don’t want to be rude, so you decide not to point it out. After all, he seems nice enough. You take a step toward the cake, Cole noticing and helping you take a slice. “Thank you,” You say gratefully, though your gaze flits over to the very person you’re dying to not ask.

Cole spots this, clearing his throat and introducing his friend. “This is Zane.”

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He takes your hand and places a small kiss on it. You’re too stunned by this sudden move to reply, processing his name. It rings a faint bell, finally placing his face.

“You’re the Ice Ninja,” You state simply. He nods, confirming your words. “It’s a pleasure to meet you too,” You hurriedly add to not seem impolite. Melody’s reminder nudges a small corner in your mind, the wheels finally turning. You hurriedly take out an album of the ninja from the hidden pocket of your vest, along with a marker.

“I know we just met, but I was wondering if you’d do me a favour. Could you sign this for a friend of mine? Her name’s Melody. She’s a really big fan of the ninja.” Zane takes the marker and signs it with a smile, adding a small message at the end before handing it back to you.

“I hope this will suffice?”

“It’ll more than suffice, thank you!” You say gratefully, putting away the album before noticing Cole’s outstretched hand. “Can I help you…?”

“It’s nothing.” He coughs, retracting it. Zane glances at him curiously, about to say something before he’s silenced by a quick shake of his friend’s head. You watch the whole exchange go down with an oblivious smile, focusing purely on the rest of the buffet spread.

“I have to go check on Master Wu now, but I hope you enjoy the party. It was nice meeting you.” The words are just empty formalities, but there’s a sense of sincerity in Zane’s voice, along with a hint of amusement.

Cole holds up his plate with a different cake now on it, the yellow sponge with buttercream nestled between its layers making your mouth water. “Want another slice?”

You agree with an eager nod, humming happily when the scent of lemon fills your mouth upon taking a bite. “So tell me, fellow cake enthusiast, how does one simply get to know the Ice Ninja enough for him to be so familiar with you?”

“We’ve been friends for a while now.” His words intrigue you, though you can’t help but still feel wary around him. It doesn’t seem like he’s realised who you are yet though, so that’s a relief. “I think it’s been like, what, five years? I can’t remember anymore,” He laughs. “Besides that, it seems like this friend of yours knows her stuff.”

“She does. She became a fan a couple of months ago and every time she rambled about them I’d kinda tune her out,” You admit sheepishly. He raises a brow in interest. “In my defence, it’s almost always the same thing about how Kai’s the strongest or something.”

He takes a break from yet another slice of cake to take a sip of water. “Well, you should never say that around him, that’s for sure,” He muses.

Seriously though, how is this guy downing cakes faster than you can talk?

“I take it he’s another friend of yours?”

“You could say that. He’s more like an annoying brother that needs to be given a good whack every now and then to bring his ego back down to earth.”

“If you’re their friend, could you do me a favour?” He tilts his head.

“Anything for my fellow cake enthusiast,” he replies, cheekily quoting you from earlier.

“Could you help me get his autograph too? I kinda need autographs from all of them, and if I don’t keep my promise to her…There’ll be consequences, that’s for sure.” Your emotionless smile makes him laugh, already resigning yourself to the fate of a hospital bill to be paid for your poor finger.

“What kind of consequences?”

“Broken pinky finger, y’know the usual.” You reply with a shrug, handing him the album and marker. “Pretty please?”

Cole takes it from you with a playful salute. “You have my word.”

He disappears into the crowd, and your shoulders instantly relax in relief. It’s incredible how he hasn’t noticed, considering that you’ve only just met yesterday. Then again, both of you look vastly different and even have masks on. It’s insane how different he is though, to a stranger who shares his clear fondness for cake, compared to his interaction with his actual soulmate.

Your fingers curl into fists, mildly infuriated by this fact.

Are you, his soulmate, not even worthy of civil conversation?

Ridiculous.

With that thought, you suddenly feel much better about your own reaction to him yesterday. Regret fills your chest when you think about how you could’ve given him another punch yesterday. Alas, what’s done is done.

You’re about to gorge yourself on the rest of the buffet when a blaring siren starts to resound through the halls, murmurs and confused whispers filling the air. The sound is familiar. A fire drill, perhaps.

Who’s the idiot that’d set fire to a museum of artefacts?

“Please remain calm everyone, and follow the ninja to evacuate safely.” A staff member announces, flashing their staff ID to reassure everyone that they can be trusted because, y’know, authoritative figures usually have a big badge.

Unfortunately, the presence of said authoritative figure doesn’t calm everyone else’s nerves. The people around you are filled to the brim with panic, and you spot a few trembling hands here and there. What are they so scared of? It’s not like they’ll get hurt with the ninja around, right?

Your mask slips off in the rush of people scrambling to the exit, roughly bumping against you in the process. You’re just about to pick it up when someone’s foot kicks it away. Annoyed, you make your way toward it, pushing past the panic. Again and again, it’s constantly kicked away from you.

Why are you even making so much effort to get it? A small voice whispers in the back of your mind. You push past another person with gritted teeth, finally making your way to where it’s landed in the corner of the atrium.

The answer is simple — because it’s made with actual emeralds.

Or is it because Emily gifted it to you? The same small voice pokes at your patience, trying to get you to admit an answer that doesn’t exist. It’s valuable, that’s all there is to it.

You spot a shadowed figure slipping away into a different hallway. Suspicious, you glance around. Good, no one’s paying attention to a simple musketeer in this panic. You skulk around the corner, keeping close to the walls as your fingers close around the hilt of your sword.

The further you walk away from the main rooms, the fainter the sounds of chaos. The lights are oddly dim, and a few flickers, giving an ominous feel to the room of scrolls that you enter. A hooded figure stands under a painting of an old man, an ancient scroll in their hand. They're engrossed, reading it intently to the point they don’t even notice your presence.

You draw your sword, the light reflecting off of it alerting the suspicious person when it shines on the painting. They turn instantly, rolling up the scroll and stuffing it into their cloak. “Who are you?” You demand.

Upon seeing you, their shoulders relax, a shadowed smirk on their lips almost as if to say ‘Oh look, I’ve been caught by a costumed musketeer’. Unfortunately for them, you’d taken a few lessons in kendo.

Sure, maybe you’ve never bested your master to this day, but whatever skills or muscle memory you have, you’d have to utilise it to the best of your abilities. A sense of unease stirs something uncomfortable in your stomach, eyeing their shapeless figure and trying to figure out what exactly seemed so off about this person.

They watch you, making no move to defend themselves. They’re waiting, you realise, to see what you’re going to do next. “I will use this,” You threaten, though the way you glance around the room draws a muffled laugh out of them.

Are they…amused?

“Over here!” A voice echoes down the hallway, just out of sight. This alerts them, glancing between the skylight and you before seemingly deciding that being caught isn’t worth the entertainment value you provide.

Before you can react, they punch the ground, revealing an arm covered in a strange contraption, reminding you of a gauntlet. The tiled floor caves below you, and you fall into a pit of their making. “Hey!” You shout, scrambling to your feet, watching them easily manoeuvre their way to the skylight and exit without a problem.

“Damn it,” You mumble, sheathing your fallen sword with a frown. They’d taken the scroll with them. So much for being a musketeer and bringing justice. Looking around, you try to climb your way out of the pit. However, your attempts are in vain as the ground easily crumbles beneath your fingers, giving you the honour of letting you fall again and again.

You grumble, sitting down. May as well wait for someone to arrive.

Butt, meet ground.

The light is momentarily blocked by a shadow. You squint, looking up to see someone staring down at you. He jumps down from above, landing with ease. You scan him briefly, taking in his black gi and hood that covers his face. The Earth Ninja. Once his gaze lands on you, however, he does a double take.

Recognition flashes in his eyes for a fleeting moment. He shakes his head, refusing to let it sidetrack him from his duty. "There’s someone down here!" he urgently calls to what you suppose is another person above, before pivoting back to you. You regard him with an air of suspicion, mildly confused about his reaction toward you.

His voice, his piercing gaze, his build…Finally, finally, the puzzle pieces click into place. You stare at him, ignoring his concerned hand reaching out for you. “Come on! We gotta get out of here!”

You’ve gotta be kidding me.

You reluctantly take it, allowing him to tug your body into his arms as he hauls you out of the pit. Landing on solid ground jolts you, and you grumpily hit his arm, sending him a signal to at least make your journey more comfortable.

He accepts it with a muffled huff under his hood, manoeuvring you with care until both of you stand outside. You let go of his arm, taking a step back and brushing yourself off. The weight of his gaze lingered on you, and you met his eyes head-on. A flinch gives him away, and he awkwardly turns, feigning interest in checking on other civilians who had also escaped unharmed, thanks to the rest of the ninjas.

You can’t help the exasperated sigh that brushes past your lips, crossing your arms. “Of course, my soulmate’s the fucking earth ninja.”

#ninjago #lego ninjago #cole brookestone #cole brookstone x reader #cole x reader #ninjago x reader #cole ninjago #lego ninjago x reader

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f10werfae · 1 year

Text

My Little Love

pairing: Boyfriend!Henry Cavill x Short!Reader

summary: they're at his parents house because she's meeting his family and one of his relatives says something about their size difference which triggers Henry's size kink (Major Dom, Loving Henry) (requested by @hallecarey1 )

Disclaimer: This story is fiction and should not be taken literally, the behaviour is simply imaginative and the content may be inappropriate

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated♥️

Henry Masterlist, Full Masterlist, Taglist Form

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Bunny don’t worry, you look so pretty n’ gorgeous” Henry smiled smoothing back Y/n’s hair which was tamed back with a white headband. His bulging arms going around her smaller frame, pulling her flush against his chest, a squeal leaving her mouth as his fingers dipped underneath her skirt and pressed against her freshly groomed pussy.

“Stop being naughty Henry! I’m meeting the rest of your family for the first time and I don’t wanna keep them waiting” Y/n whined shoving his hands off as he laughed smugly, his hands falling to grope her ass roughly before walking over to reach for his car keys. “You ready to go love?” Henry said intertwining her smaller hand with his, watching as she applied another smooth layer of pink lip gloss skilfully, putting it into her small Hermes bag.

“What’s wrong bunny? Why you shakin’ a storm over there?” Henry frowned driving down the country road, his hand settled onto her exposed thigh, his thumb rubbing it soothingly. “Well it’s the first family gathering i’m going to, and all your aunts, uncles and cousins are gonna be there” She said smiling back up at him, her hand holding onto his tightly, playing with the multiple rings adorned on his fingers.

“Listen once we get there, I guarantee they’ll all love you like I do, well maybe not exactly like I do” Henry chuckled gripping her thigh rougher, prompting the smaller woman to laugh and press a wet kiss onto his beard covered cheek. The car falling silent once they pulled into the large house’s driveway, the front filled to the brim with an array of different vans and cars.

“Hold onto me, m’nervous” Y/n breathed out shakily, holding onto his bicep as she watched her boyfriend knock chirpily on the oakwood door.

“Henry my baby! awk Omg and my future daughter-in-law, I missed you!” Henry’s mother Marianne laughed pulling Y/n into her arms, kissing the younger woman on both cheeks, pulling her back to look at her. “You look stunning lovely, we need to do another spa day this month, bet you’re sick of looking at this face all day” Henry scoffed as his mother tugged on his chin, not even receiving a hug from his own ma.

“He’s alright I guess, I missed you too” Y/n smiled sweetly, enough to give anyone a toothache, her demeanour not faltering as she was brought straight into the living room filled to the brim with relatives. Henry’s hand on the small of her back, his fingers drumming softly.

“Awk Henry is this your wee darling! She’s such a small thing, bless her soul she’s so pretty” One of Henry’s aunts exclaimed, holding Y/n in her arms turning her side to side, everyone in the room smiling at the new arrival. “Henry you must have to be so careful with her, must break like glass with a touch of a finger” She winked at them both, causing something to spark inside Henry, the rest of the family laughing the seemingly innocent joke.

“Oh we’re far from careful aunt Luce, surprised she isn’t in pieces yet” He smirked coming up behind her, her head levelled with his chest, both his arms wrapping around her shoulders to clasp in front of her chest. “Hen! That’s so inappropriate, i’m sorry everyone” Y/n scolded, her face heating up at everyones laughs, a small gasp erupting as she felt something hitting her ass from behind.

“Ma i’m gonna go show Y/n around the house, been dying to show her my old room” Within minutes Henry had taken his woman up the stairs in the mansion, her having to jog a little to keep up with his long heavy strides. “W-wait Henry slow down” Y/n gasped as she was pushed into a random room at the end of the extended hallway, realising she was in a room surrounded by DC comics. Henry’s room.

“Sorry bunbun, can’t slow down, all their comments just got to me you know? Break like glass? Bloody laughable” Henry laughed tauntingly, his hands pushing Y/n over the edge of the bed, flipping up her skirt lewdly revealing her cotton white underwear. These were definitely new.

“Henry we can’t, they’re downstairs, what if they hear?” Y/n gasped feeling his middle finger rub up and down her slit, causing the fabric to cling to her wet pussy, a small damp stain starting to appear. “Woahoho look at this love, this is what I needed to see”

“W-what are you doing bear?” Y/n said looking back to see Henry shoving his face against her ass, feeling him take a deep inhale against her pussy. “All freshly shaved for me huh? You smell so fucking good, feel how hard you make me” Henry coaxed taking her hand, not even comparable in size to the bulge basically jumping out of his jeans. Y/n immediately felt her mouth water, remembering all the times her poor pussy had been impaled on his cock.

“I want it, need it now” Y/n said curtly scrambling to turn around and unbutton his jeans and unzip his pants. “Aren’t you eager little one?” He smiled cupping her face, pressing a soft endearing kiss onto her pouty lips, tapping her cheek softly to let her continue her plan. “Actually bunny, lay back for me, be my little starfish yeah? I’ll take care of you n’ quick” He cooed pushing her flat against his old king size bed, a small squeak leaving her as she slightly bounced on the mattress.

Pulling her dress over her head roughly, Henry smiled noticing her chest was left bare, there was a reason he bought a dress with a built in bra. “I love your tits baby, soso much, make me so fucking hard” Henry growled cupping a breast in each hand, his thumb rubbing over her slowly hardening nipples which pebbled in his hands.

“Now for this sweet pussy” Pulling her cotton panties off with one swipe, her bunched it up and shoved it under the pillow her head was on. “What if i’m too loud-“ Y/n felt Henry clamp his lips onto hers, her full lips being sucked in passionately as his tongue eagerly searched for hers. Spit dripping down her face from the corner of her mouth, a whine leaving her as she watched Henry wipe her face with her panties.

“What baby, don’t like the taste of your pussy? Tell you what I love it, love to eat it morning day and night, favourite fucking meal” He growled kissing her again, tasting remnants of her own pussy on her tongue, making him even more harder. His cock now springing out of his boxers due to being so engorged,

“Really? That’s how I feel about this cock of yours bear” Y/n whispered kissing his cheek, fisting his cock in her soft hands, her hands running up and down her nape. “i’m going to cum all over you, wan’ fuck you all night, my little love” Henry moaned humping his sensitive cock against her naked mound, her clit starting to poke out against him.

“yeah feel me fill that little pussy? God you’re my woman aren’t you” Henry nodded along with her as he slowly inched inside her, her voice whining as his thumb rubbed slow circles on her poor clit. His smile widening as he thrusted slowly and deeply, making sure to hit the deepest spots, one which he knew sent her into a frenzy.

“Henry feel so good, could keep you in me forever, you’re so big” Y/n whined, her tits bouncing rhythmically against Henry’s chest, his minty breath fanning her face as he whispered dirty filthy things ‘Gonna make you carry our baby yeah? Maybe they’ll be jus as small as you were? Been dreaming of the day i’d be able to make you a mother, mother of my babies, let everyone know you’re able to take my huge cock’

“F-fuck Henry I cant, ya know that gets me” Y/n whimpered softly, hiding her face in his neck. Henry always knew his words and slow, deep thrusts could get her cumming in minutes, and it doesn’t take him long to follow. “Wait! Mm’sensitive oh my gosh, mmmy oh my fuck” Y/n mumbled highly pitched, her hips slowly grinding against his actively thrusting hips, feeling him chase his own finish.

“Gonna fill you up bunny, right up here” Henry growled smoothing his hand up her stomach, feeling her soft skin under his fingertips, reminding him of just how lucky he was to find someone who loved him like she did. Man if only he knew how lucky she felt, finding a man like Henry to take care of her like no one else before, her big scary soft man.

“Yes yes yes wan’ it now” Y/n grunted cupping his face roughly, her tongue swiping over his lips, his tongue flicking against hers; his cum filling her to the brim. Both of them whining in satisfaction and overstimulation as they watched their mixed juices flow out onto his old superhero sheets. Fuck sake how were they going to get out of this now?

———

Taglist Tags (Form is up there^^): @luvabellee @cookielovesbook-akie @theekyliepage @cilliansangel @thoughtsofreid @kzhlvlysstuff @grxnde-dwt @p4st3lst4rs @thebaileybugle @teti-menchon0604 @uwiuwi @stormcloudss @thereisa8ella @kimhtoo17 @pandaxnienke @bookfrog242 @alina02 @alexxavicry @ggmimitf @ninasw0rld @acornacre @fdl305 @keiva1000 @spencerreidat4am @diyabhanushali1 @angelmather1 @hp-hogwartsexpress @lastwandastan @aerangi @i-beg-your-pardon-laufeyson @sparklemarysunshine @oliviah-25 @mischiefsemimanaged @nikkitc0703 @hallecarey1 @misshale21 @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mansaaay @princess-paramour @marvelgurl @mysticfalls01 @kebabgirl67 @athena-roy @tinyelfperson @madebylilly @dumb-fawkin-bitch @vrittivsanghavi @beck07990 @

#henry cavill #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill one shot #henry cavill x shy!reader #henry cavill x short!reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill rpf #romance

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